“Because you are a kind, decent man who has been thrust into a hell not of your making. I will not take up more than a few seconds of your time. Then. . .you can . . .” She glanced at the gun.
His breathing slowed and he gazed at her. “What do you have to say to me that would make a damn bit of difference?” he said in a bare whisper, as though that was all he had the lungs for.
“May I?” she asked, looking at the gun. “As Hiroko-san did for me that night? Please?”
A long moment passed as the two stared at each other.
Finally, he allowed her to take the gun from him and she carefully placed it back on the nightstand. Then she grabbed her phone and returned to Nash, tapping keys on it to access something.
“This will be a shock, Walter. And I want you to be prepared.”
Now alarmed, he gazed at her. “Victoria, what is going on?”
Steers tapped some more keys, checked the screen, and then held it up to him. With her other hand she clutched his shoulder tightly, as though she was single-handedly trying to buck him up against whatever was coming.
“Please just try to remain. . .s-stable, W-Walter,” she said.
When Nash looked at the phone screen, he immediately saw that it was a picture. And though a long time had passed, he had no trouble at all recognizing the person.
He drew his gaze from the phone and stared at Steers, the tears bubbling in his eyes.
“Maggie? She’s alive?”
“Yes.”
CHAPTER
76
THEIR LOVEMAKING NOW WAS SLOWand sensual, instead of the previous attempt’s feral and frenetic display. Nash’s pelvis methodically rose and fell between her legs before he pulled her upward and she sat astride him, seamlessly moving her hips up and down against him. When they were both done, she slumped against him, breathless. With her in his arms, Nash fell to one side and they lay next to one another on the bed. She let out a throaty moan and rubbed his arm. Then she rose on one elbow and turned to him.
“This was much more pleasurable than how it started out between us,” she noted.
He managed a weak smile. “The first attempt was more of a war.”
Her large sad eyes took him in fully and she said, “We should get ready, Walter, and then. . . discuss things.”
Forty-five minutes later Nash and Steers sat in front of the flames from the gas fireplace in the living room after a hastily prepared meal that they ate quickly and with little conversation. The weather had turned cloudy, with a damp chill.
Steers had explained very little about Maggie’s being alive and, in truth, Nash would not have been able to process it if she had elaborated. The fact that they had made love after the stunning revelation was probably good. He had not wanted to think at that moment. If he had, Nash was certain he would have convinced himself that Maggie was in fact dead.
But now, the time had come for an explanation from Steers.
He looked at her. “Maggie?”
“I had mentioned long ago that your CIA was interested in me?”
“I remember that, yes. But you didn’t get into details.”
“I could not at the time. But. . .they were not just interested. They made me an offer, an offer I could not refuse.”
“What sort of offer?”
“A future. Not a bright one, really, but better than what I had.”
“Why come to you with an offer? They must have known the authorities were already after you.”
“The truth is, I made discreet overtures to certain parties that led the CIA to secretly approach me. My mother believed she could make me just like her. But she could not. And you have always been right about that, Walter. I am not her.”