15 Targeted (81 page)

“Show me,” Kate said and he pointed at the case. Kate translated rapidly between him and the saleslady, amazed to hear the words pouring out of her own mouth. Words she shouldn’t have been able to understand or pronounce at all and yet they came flowing as easily as if the customer’s language was her native tongue.

The saleslady happened to have exactly what the customer wanted in another case. Before long, the sale was made and everyone was happy. Kate was about to leave and see what other languages she could understand when the manager of the store stepped out from the back.

“I saw that—a very impressive display, young lady,” he said, nodding at Kate.

“Oh yes, Mr. Myers, she was wonderful, wasn’t she?” The older saleslady beamed at Kate. “Thank you so much—I couldn’t have made that sale without you to translate.”

“So do you speak other languages?” the manager asked. “We get quite a lot of international customers here and we’re always on the lookout for sales staff with multilingual capabilities.”

Kate had decided to take a chance. “I can speak and understand just about any language there is,” she’d said quietly, keeping her voice level and calm so it didn’t seem like she was bragging. She wasn’t completely certain it was true but it seemed like a pretty safe bet.

“Is that right?” The manager looked even more interested. “You have a gift for languages, do you?”

“You could say that,” Kate said.

“And are you looking for employment?”

“As a matter of fact, I am.” Kate had stepped up and held out her hand. “Kate McMillan.”

“Arthur Myers,” he’d said, taking her offered hand. The minute she touched his hand, Kate had known this was a good situation for her. But she needed to take things carefully.

“Come back to my office and we’ll talk,” Mr. Myers had said. Kate had allowed him to usher her into the back, knowing from the single touch of his hand that he wouldn’t hurt or assault her. Besides, even if he tried, she had her Glock 42 concealed under her dressy business suit jacket.

The 42 was one of the smallest guns Glock had ever made, which made it ideal both for Kate’s small hands and a concealed carry. She’d found it along with a few small pieces of her past and she wasn’t willing to give it up.

After a few weeks of living with Mimi, more of Kate’s memory had come back and she’d been able to get some of her personal effects, which had been stored in her mom’s house back in Mississippi. Mimi had driven her there—happy to go on a road trip—and though Kate didn’t have the keys, she knew just how to jiggle the handle of the back door to get in.

Inside, stored in the attic, she’d found her driver’s license, birth certificate, social security card—and of course the gun. It had cost her some time and trouble to get the concealed weapons carry permit here in Florida but Kate considered it money well spent. She had a feeling there was something else hiding in that three year time gap—another memory not nearly as useful as her sudden ability with languages. A dark memory—one she might need protection from.

So she carried the 42 with her everywhere she went and even slept with it under her pillow at night. It made her feel better—as though she was somehow in control. As though she hadn’t lost three whole years of her life somehow and wound up naked and alone in a Sarasota park with no knowledge of how she’d gotten there.

“Have a seat, please.” The manager had indicated a plush, leather chair across from his own.

“Thank you.” Kate took the seat and smiled sedately. “Tell me why you want me to work here.”

Mr. Meyers looked rather flustered.

“Oh, well that’s usually my line.
You
tell
me
why you want to work here.”

“Well, I need a job. Right now I’m living with my good friend Mimi and I want to be able to help out—pay half the rent and groceries.”

“That sounds responsible of you.” Mr. Meyers looked sympathetic. “So are you having a hard time finding something in today’s market? Maybe your degree isn’t very useful? Lourdes, the nice woman you helped make that sale, has a Masters in Sixteenth Century Spanish poetry. Not very practical I’m afraid.”

“Actually, I have a degree in Communications. Not terribly useful but not a complete waste of time either,” Kate said pleasantly. “The reason I can’t find a job is that I have a three year gap in my résumé—most employers don’t like that.”

“Hmm, as an employer myself I can see why.” Myers had frowned. “Can you tell me
why
you have this gap?”

This was something Kate had struggled with over and over in other job interviews. She didn’t like to lie but it sounded both crazy and dramatic to explain that she’d been abducted, had three years of her memory wiped, and been dumped naked in a park in Sarasota. She supposed she could say she had been working for the government on some kind of black ops mission but she didn’t exactly look like a spy. Also, she had no Army record of any kind and it would be easy enough to trace the falsehood.

The only lie that fit the situation made her very uncomfortable to use but what else could she do? She really needed this job and just one little lie wouldn’t hurt—she hoped.

“The Kindred,” she said, the words tasting like dust on her lips. “I…I was called as a bride. Went up to the Mother Ship and stayed for the past three years.” Since the Kindred didn’t make their claiming files available to the public, this would be very difficult to confirm or deny. It was the perfect excuse—she just wished it didn’t give her that itchy, uncomfortable feeling between her shoulder blades, like someone was watching her.

“A Kindred bride, eh?” Myers raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Forgive me but it was my understanding that the Kindred took wives for life. Almost no one ever comes back after being mated to one.”

“It doesn’t always work out,” Kate said tightly. “I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind.” She straightened up in her chair. “I think it would be a better idea if
I
told
you
why you want to hire me.”

“All right.” Myers steepled his fingers under his chubby chin and gave her an interested look. “Tell me.”

“Aside from my multilingual capabilities, you want me working here for you because I would be a great saleswoman. I know things about people the minute I meet them and shake their hand.”

“You do? Go on.” Mr. Myers looked more intrigued than ever and Kate mentally breathed a sigh of relief. She’d gotten an impression when she shook his hand that he would be open to her gift, just as Mimi was. But it was always a risk telling someone about the Knowing.

“I know that you’ve been married to a lovely woman named Melinda for the past twenty-two years, that you have two daughters named Jessie and Dawn, and that you live in South Tampa,” Kate began, getting the easy stuff out of the way first.

Myers frowned. “Anyone could find that out just by doing an internet search on me.”

“Yes, but could they also know that you have never—not once—cheated on your wife? Even that time in Vegas at the jewelers’ convention. That girl at the bar was so pretty! She had red hair and green eyes like mine. She bought you a drink and you talked half the night. She wanted you to come up to her room and you were halfway there…then you thought about Melinda and Jessie and Dawn—how much you loved them. How you didn’t want to betray them. And you resisted temptation.”

As she spoke her piece, Myers’ face went first red, then white. But he didn’t start shouting at her or ordering her out of his office, which was a good sign. Some people didn’t take their most private moments being exposed very well.

Kate knew that she was lucky that particular memory had been at the top of his mind when he shook her hand—probably because she reminded him of that long ago girl that got away. It was a good memory too—one he could be proud of. So much better than if she’d caught a flash of him kicking a stray dog when he thought no one was watching or binge eating Chunky Monkey ice cream straight from the carton at three o’clock in the morning when no one else was up.

Myers drew a deep breath.

“Well,” he said at last. “You’re right. That’s certainly something unique that no one else should know. I thought I’d take that memory to the grave. Can you read everyone’s mind or just mine?”

“It’s not mind reading—I just know things about people when I touch them sometimes. It’s a family gift,” Kate said, trying to downplay it a bit. “You can imagine how useful it would be here on your sales floor. As I greet each customer and shake their hand, I’ll be able to tell if they’re really intending to buy and what exactly they’re looking for. I’ll be able to steer them in the right direction.”

“Yes…” Myers rubbed his balding head thoughtfully. “Yes, I
can
see how that would come in handy.”

“I can also tell if they have…dishonest intentions.”

“That could be useful,” he said thoughtfully. “We had some trouble here a few years ago. Maybe you heard about it?”

Kate shook her head.

“Well some gentlemen came in here…ha! I say gentlemen but they were basically thugs. Anyway, they used sledgehammers to break into our Rolex cases and made off with half a million dollars worth of merchandise.” He frowned. “Insurance covered our losses, of course, but it was still a bad situation. The sound the sledge hammers made was very like a shotgun blast. People assumed there was some kind of terrorist attack. The whole mall was evacuated and shut down…just a mess.” He shook his head.

“That won’t happen on my watch.” Kate lifted her chin. “Someone intending to shoplift or rob the store will have to get through me first.”

“Oh, well…” Mr. Myers smothered a laugh. “Of course I would ask you to keep an eye on anyone you had reason to suspect but I would never expect someone of your, er, stature to get involved in any kind of altercation.”

“You think a tiny, petite little thing like me can’t defend herself, let alone defend your store?” Kate raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well…I mean, you are rather…uh,
small.”
He cleared his throat. “You must admit that.”

“I admit it, all right. I know it to my bones—I am always going to be the smallest one in any given situation,” Kate said. “That’s why I make sure I’m always prepared.”

Opening the left side of her suit jacket, she exposed the butt of the dainty Glock 42.

“Oh my!” Mr. Myers scrambled backwards quickly, nearly losing his balance in his swivel chair.

“It’s all right.” Kate let her jacket fall closed. “I’ve got a permit to carry concealed. “I’ll show it to you if you want.”

“Yes, well…that would be necessary if I hired you.”

Good—he was still talking about hiring her. Kate blessed her gift again. She’d been pretty sure he would be receptive to her little show of force but it was impossible to know for sure until you tried.

“All right,” she said quietly.

“But…do you even know how to use it?” Myers nodded at her hidden gun again.

“Let me tell you, Mr. Myers, I grew up in Mississippi without a daddy or any male protection. One of the first things my mother taught me was how to shoot. The second was the right way to clean house—she was picky that way.” Kate smiled and got an answering smile in return which encouraged her to continue. “I can promise you I’d never draw my gun unless somebody else drew a gun on me or one of the other employees first.”

“What if I asked you to leave it at home?” he’d asked, frowning a little.

Kate sighed. “I can’t do that. I need it for protection.”

“From your ex-husband?” His frown deepened. “Is he going to come here hunting you and want to shoot up the place?”

“No, no—nothing like that,” Kate assured him. “It’s just I’m a woman alone—a
small
woman alone. And Tampa is a pretty big city with a high crime rate. If you want me to work evening shifts and lock up for you some nights, I’ll need to feel protected. And in my experience, I can’t rely on anyone but myself for that protection.” She felt a twinge as she said it and a little voice whispered in her head that once she’d had someone else to protect her—someone to get her back. But Kate pushed it away. It was all foolishness—she was all she had and she had to stick to her guns. Literally.

“Well…having an armed sales person on the floor is
highly
unusual. In fact, I don’t think I know of a single other manager who would allow it. If you actually did ever shoot anyone I would have to disavow any knowledge of your…er…armed state. I’d have to be crazy to even consider it. Still…”