Chapter 16

Over the course of the next hour, we traveled across town, where the air was much clearer, and finally arrived at Colette’s apartment. Outside the door we stamped our feet and shook off what dust we could off our clothes, then made our way inside. Colette got me a towel and a spare set of clothes (how did she arrange that?), and sent me off to the shower while she began wiping her dirt-covered face with a washcloth. Sash didn’t even bother. He’s either tough or he’s just really used to this stuff.

I tell you, I never enjoyed a hot shower so much. I must have washed my hair four times trying to get all the dust out, and I still had the suspicion that I had left the task unfinished. But when I stepped out and got dressed, I felt clean, comfortable and refreshed. I hung my towel on the bar and left the bathroom to find my hosts.

They were talking, with Sash standing near the door as if to leave. Colette had changed into looser, more casual clothes, but she still looked tired and grimy. I was ready to curl up by a fire with Mozart and dine on apples and cheese and savor a tall glass of fine wine, but Miss Secret Agent here looked like she’d just stepped off the set of Rawhide. And in her own home, no less. She deserved better.

“You headin’ out?” I asked Sash.

“I am. I have…some meetings. Work to do.”

I turned to Colette. “Sash said he’d set me up with a line to the Sirian government, namely the people investigating Rindilosk’s death. Can we do that soon? Today, hopefully?”

Sash nodded. “I’ll send a technician over. He’ll make it work from here. He’s got the equipment, and I’ll see if I can find out who you need to talk to.”

“Thanks.”

With nothing left to say, Sash gave a salute to Colette, a nod to me, and closed the door behind him on his way out.

“He’s a great guy,” I said, turning to Colette.

“He is.” Her answer was distant, but only because she seemed to be lost in gratitude for that man.

I looked her over. “You need to take better care of yourself, Colette. I really appreciate you letting me shower first but…Get in there!” I pointed in the direction of the bathroom.

She gave me a weak smile and hauled herself up. She walked past me and I gently put my hand on her shoulder as she passed. She turned. “Can I get you something? Make us some dinner, get you a drink?”

She gestured tiredly with her chin. “The kitchen’s back there. Go see what you can come up with.”

“Will do.”

I watched her walk down the hallway, admiring her form and tireless fight. Such a pretty woman, such a hard life…

Shaking it off, I clapped my hands, turned and began an earnest hunt for red Roman apples and some yellow gouda. Or beef jerky and range coffee, whichever came first.