Chapter Seventeen

It was difficult to breathe with a dead man lying across her. She moved her arms. They were still tied. Krinna opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. She could see clearly. She rolled her head to the side and spotted the dry beans on the floor. She thought they had rolled under her feet just as she fell forward and hit her head on the solid block. She began to count them until her eyes saw the true culprit. A loose board protruded above the floor on one end. Her toe had hooked against it.

She raised her head high, and still couldn’t see the man lying on her. In the distance, the men were still talking. She didn’t understand them. Lying back, she closed her eyes and went to sleep.

“I loved you.” She watched his head hit the cold cave stone. Dark red jugular blood pooled into the dirt and filled the cracks.

It was good to snuggle with him. His body provided the life-giving heat she needed to survive.

“I’m your executioner.”

“I loved you.”

She held the dry, crushed skull in her murderous hand. The lioness’ bone-crushing teeth had shattered it to pieces.

“I loved you.”

“I loved you, Watermelon,” she cried, throwing her left arm over her face. It hit the large bruise on her forehead. The pain helped her to think more clearly.

Her arm was free. Cautiously, she moved her extremities. Everything had been freed. She pushed the corpse off of her stomach and rolled to her left side. It was the want-to-be rapist and thief, Ratter. His blue face and bulging eyes told her he had died from a hefty dose of toxic poison.

Krinna slowly stood to her feet and used the kitchen counter for support to get dressed. She quietly searched the restaurant for any signs of life or death.

The aroma of food led her to the kitchen stove. A pot sitting near the back burner contained mutton stew. She reached for a plate in the cupboard and noticed the two drying on the counter. Two spoons lay near them. Without hesitation, she filled her plate, went to a table, and sat where she could see Ratter’s body.

Her eyes scanned the rooms as she searched for hidden panels and footprints. Two men had eaten and left, or they were hiding somewhere in the building. It could have been Ratter and his minion. She didn’t think so. His body lay on her when she tried to see the men who were talking. Who were they, and where did they go?

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Was the assassin one of them? It would be impossible for him to know her location. Only a fool charged off into a blizzard. He was no fool.

What happened to Ratter’s minion? If her nemesis killed Ratter, then why did he spare him? He wasn’t smart enough to kill anyone with poison.

The delicious stew suddenly became unpalatable. It needed to be adequately seasoned. The cook could take lessons from Wat. … She thought. She held the spoon suspended in front of her mouth and wondered at the tears running down her face. She put the wooden spoon down and used the back of her sleeve to dry her eyes and cheeks.

Krinna went to the body and grabbed it by the feet. She dragged it to the door, opened it, and pulled the body onto the back porch. Using her foot, she pushed it off the side. It sank into the deep snow. A cold blast of wind-driven snow filled the store. She rushed inside and slammed the door to retain the heat. Stoking the firebox with wood sticks, she took sea salt and black pepper from a shelf and dumped them in the food. She refilled her plate with hot stew and returned to the table.

The floor creaked above her. A thin trace of dust and dirt fell near a pot on the stove. She raised her eyes without lifting her head and marked the spot. Perhaps the gust of wind caused it to fall. I’ll check it out after I eat. She thought. It didn’t pay to be careless.

She touched the knot on her forehead. Stumbling on the raised board was inconceivable and stupid. The fall could have killed her. It nearly did. Ratter and his minion stripped her clothes off. I don’t have to think about his useless threats anymore. Someone killed him before he had his way with my unconscious body.

Krinna clutched her chest as the terrible truth ravaged her tortured mind. He killed him. The Myth tracked her to the Gulch and killed Ratter. Galvar said he would kill anyone who hindered his progress under the contract. I should have recognized the poison sooner. Only certain assassins had access to the toxin that wasted Ratter. The stiff was dead before he started falling.

He now hid himself in the confines of the building. She would never be safe until she eliminated him. She had to do everything possible to convince him she didn’t know he was in the restaurant. Pleased with her logical deduction, she replenished her plate again. She reverently searched the walls for any peepholes or cracks. Keeping her eyes down, she nixed the idea of looking at the ceiling.

She carefully listened to the sounds. The howling storm winds caused the old structure to creak and groan. The snapping pop of wood in the fire occurred occasionally. It was the calm in the middle of a storm. A stiff wind gust struck the building. Someone ran across the second-floor room. Sifting dirt fell through the boards.

I have you now. She thought as she silently raced into the other room and up the stairs. A glance showed the bedroom was empty. A more thorough search of the private quarters proved fruitless. The dusty floor showed no footprints. Two small windows, one in front and one in the back, graced the bedroom. She tested the lock on each and found them secure. The storm's intensity obstructed any view out the windows.

Disappointed, she returned to the kitchen and filled the firebox. She turned the damper down, threw her blanket on the floor, lay down, and slept.