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“At least I never killed anyone,” Trudy said defensively.
“No,” said Nora with a smile, “you just set them up to be killed or delivered the orders for their deaths. You didn’t have the courage to pull the trigger yourself.”
If Trudy thought she was going to make Nora feel bad, she needed to think again. For a moment, Trudy looked as though Nora had struck her in the face, but she seemed to shake it off.
“That’s neither here nor there. He has another assignment for you,” Trudy said, thrusting a small envelope at her.
Nora took the envelope and Trudy spun on her heel, sweeping out of the room and through the front door, which she tried to slam. The only problem was, the door had been designed to look old, but had soft-close capability. With a disgruntled look at her inability to make a grand exit, Trudy departed.
Grabbing a small knife, Nora slit open the envelope, gasping as a small photograph slid from the interior.
Her mark was Colby Reynolds.
* * *
HUTCH
Hutch spent his morning going through further background information on his three suspects. As it was, Morty seemed to have the best regular job to move around without arousing suspicion. While the bumbling moose thing could be an act, it didn’t strike Hutch as that. Will was the most obvious suspect. He was a weasel, and they were not known for their loyalty. The problem with Will was just that—he was entirely too easy to believe. Ellis Wells could be working with the Shadow League, but he couldn’t see the alpha doing any kind of menial work. He might be an arrogant bastard, but in many ways that tended to eliminate him as a suspect.
He got up and moved around the room. Nora had yet to check in. Surely, she’d reached the Shadow League’s safehouse by now. He was feeling antsy and didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. He moved to the window and looked out over the expansive lawn toward the beach and the sea that lay beyond. He wanted all of whatever was coming to be over. He wanted to be able to focus on himself and Nora and the life they would create.
As he paced the floor, the signal came through that Nora had arrived safe and sound at the safehouse.
Bored out of his mind, Hutch decided to go do what he always did when he was bored—make croissants. Making croissants was not only difficult, but it was also incredibly time consuming and took liberal amounts of patience and concentration. Getting the laminated dough just right had been the bane of many a baker. Once you got the recipe and the technique down pat, though, croissants were hard to beat and provided the baker with a variety of options. He headed down to the kitchen and sought out Maya, Colby’s housekeeper.
“For a dead man, you’re looking pretty chipper this morning,” Maya said by way of greeting. “Was there something I could get for you?”
“No. Just the opposite. If I could take over some counter space and commandeer one of the ovens, I’d like to make croissants for everyone.”
Maya shook her head. “I’ve never been able to develop the knack for that laminated dough.”
“It’s not difficult—” Maya gave him her best side-eye. “—it truly isn’t. It does take a little time and patience, though.”
“I’ll take your word for it. Yours are certainly distinctive. We’d be glad to have them. We have a kind of butler’s pantry off the main kitchen that at one time was used by a pastry chef. We can clear that space out for you. You can make whatever you like and if there’s something you need, just let one of us know.”
“Thank you, Maya. I’ll try to stay out of everyone’s way.”
Hutch spent the next several hours creating both savory and sweet croissants. People wandered in and out picking up the pastries and enjoying them. It was the thing he liked best about baking—you worked hard and got to feed people something they really enjoyed. Even better, the kitchen and the whole of the downstairs was filled with the delectable scent of the croissants.
“As far as I’m concerned, you and Nora can just move in here permanently,” said Maya.
Hutch chuckled. “Well, while I’m here I can make up your usual order of bread and rolls.”
“That would be wonderful. Everyone has gotten used to eating baked goods from you. I know we’re not set up for you ideally, but I’ve got one or two people who would love to give you a hand and might be able to make it a little easier.”
“That would be great. I’ve been thinking about expanding what we offer and having someone come in a day or two a week might be really helpful.”
Maya smiled. “I think we can arrange that.”
He and Maya packed a basket full of filled croissants to take to some of Colby’s people down to Windsong’s onsite medical facility. Colby had a nurse practitioner and three nurses to provide healthcare. For more serious cases, Doc Hadley was called in or those in need were taken to Doc’s clinic in town.
He looked up to see Hamish entering the kitchen.
“I’ll be damned. Hutch, it’s good to see you,” the big Scotsman said, extending his hand.
“Hamish.” Hutch wasn’t sure what else to say. There had been a discussion as to whether or not Hamish, as Colby’s second, should be told, but they felt it might put him in a difficult position as he was Trudy’s mate.
“Hamish,” said Colby as he entered the kitchen. “We need to talk.”
