Chameleon Assassin (Chameleon Assassin Series Book 1) Page 5

  I dropped by Dad’s on my way home from the airport to let him know I was safe and that I’d completed the assignment. He had a pleasant surprise for me—proceeds from part of the Carpenter jewelry.

  The next day was a typical Toronto summer day, cloudy with temperatures in the mid to upper nineties Celsius, totally different from the hell in Dallas. I grabbed an umbrella and set out for a walk.

  I wandered along the seawall along the lake into Old Toronto. With my mask, I could barely smell the lake. They kept saying they were going to ban dumping pollutants into Lake Ontario, but they had been saying that for two hundred years. As long as someone made money off it, the corps did what they wanted.

  Past the entertainment district, I turned inland and made my way around the sewage treatment plant toward the old tenement building where Amanda Rollins had her orphanage. The corporate types never saw that part of town, nor did the corporations provide any services to the people who lived there. Neither the subway nor the buses ran there, and they had to pay scamming resellers for electricity and water at far higher rates than people paid in the corporate parts of town.

  I passed a small store with a beggar out front. Across the street, none of the windows in the house had glass. I wouldn’t see any more beggars on my route. No one bothered to beg from people who didn’t have anything.

  Picking my way through rubble in the street where an old burned building had fallen down, I heard whistles—signals between gang members that an outsider had entered their territory. It was rare that someone who could afford shoes went into that part of town. Most of the people who lived there couldn’t even afford filter masks and had to breathe the raw air. Even with my skills, the danger was very real. My mask alone made me worth mugging. The corporations employed the police, but they paid them to keep the inhabitants in the slums, not to control their behavior.

  “I’m a friend of Miz Rollins,” I shouted and continued walking as though I didn’t have a care in the world.

  A couple of blocks farther on, a dirty-faced girl of about fifteen stepped out of an alley ahead of me, her skinny legs poking out from what used to be a blue floral-print shift. Her ragged hair might have been blonde if it had been clean.

  “Miz Libby?” she called. She looked ready to bolt.

  I smiled. “Hello, Glenda. How have you been?”

  A big smile split her face. “I been pretty good.” She skipped toward me.

  Crouching down, I opened my arms and gathered her into a hug.

  “You been gone,” she said.

  “Yes, I know. I’m a bum.” I pulled a package of beef jerky out of my pocket and handed it to her.

  “You’re not a bum. You’re the best.” She tore open the package, stuffed a wad of the dried meat in her mouth, and fell in beside me.

  “The boys been bothering you?” I asked.

  “Not too bad. Jorey keeps em off me.”

  I controlled a flare of temper. “That’s nice of Jorey,” I managed to say. I didn’t know Jorey, but I doubted he was an altruist.

  “I’m nice to him, and he’s nice to me. He never hurts me and he say he’ll keep me warm this winter. You goin to see Miz Rollins?”

  Glenda got tired of her alcoholic mother selling her for booze and drug money, and ran away when she was twelve. It wasn’t much better on the street. I met her when I stumbled over two older teens taking turns with her in an alley. Those two, and three more over time, served as a warning to others that tumbling the little blonde girl could carry a death sentence. Most of the street people stayed away from her after that. I couldn’t save all the thousands of girls living on the streets, but I figured that shouldn’t stop me from killing all the rapists I could get my hands on.

  Like most of the people in that part of town, Glenda couldn’t read or write. She had been to a doctor once in her life, when I took her to get all her immunizations and an implant. In spite of all the constantly mutating diseases, Glenda amazingly hadn’t caught any. During my sex-ed class in middle school, the teacher told us scientists identified a new sexually transmitted disease every week that were mostly caused by mutations of known pathogens. In spite of growing up in a brothel, those classes made me so paranoid I was still a virgin when I got to university.

  Nellie kept telling me I should take Glenda to my mom. With regular nutrition and hygiene, she would be pretty. It would be a better life, but the thought of her in a brothel turned my stomach. Maybe Nellie was right, though. It would be better than leaving her to the tender mercies of whoever the hell Jorey was. She’d at least have a chance at a decent life.

  We arrived at the orphanage, and the place erupted, kids screaming and running around.

  “Miz Libby!”

  “It’s Miz Libby!”

  “Miz Rollins, it’s Miz Libby!”

  Most of the kids were able at least to dress and feed themselves. They were all either crippled or disfigured, some so severely they might face harm in the richer parts of town just because of the way they looked.

  One boy who couldn’t take care of himself was Walter. *Hello, Miz Libby,* Walter’s voice sounded in my head. *I hope you’re doing well.*

  Walter was blind and confined to a wheelchair, but he was the most powerful telepath I had ever met. Of course, I hadn’t met too many.

  Amanda Rollins came to the door and waved, a broad smile on her face. Amanda was a tall, thin, light-skinned black woman. I figured she was in her forties but she appeared older. She was the only person in my life that I knew was going to heaven.

  We embraced and went inside to the kitchen. She shooed everyone out and closed the door.

  “Libby, it’s good to see you.” She shook her head. “That money you sent with Nellie, I don’t know how I can ever thank you. Dear Lord, that’s more money than I ran this place on all of last year. If it wasn’t for you, I think everything would just fall apart. You’re an angel, girl. An angel from heaven.”

  “I’ve been accused of a lot of things,” I said, “but that’s a first. I’m no angel, and I’m definitely no saint. That’s you.”

  Amanda was Nellie’s aunt, and that’s how I met her. I emptied my bag of the stuff I brought. Beef jerky, dried fruit, children’s vitamins, basic medicines, such as aspirin, alcohol, hydrogen peroxide, sterile gauze and surgical tape.

  “Oh, Lord,” Amanda said. “It don’t matter what you show up with, it’s always something I need that I don’t have.”

  The building didn’t have electricity, therefore no refrigeration. How she managed always amazed me.

  I pulled out the credit card Dad had given me for Carpenter’s jewelry and her eyes popped wide.

  “I want you to move someplace with electricity,” I said. “I want you out of this neighborhood. And I want you to have a doctor come regularly, at least once a month.”

  “Oh, Libby. I can’t afford all that.”

  “You can now.” I handed her my dad’s business card. “Call this man and tell him I sent you. Tell him how big a place you need, a place with electricity and heat in the winter. Tell him you can pay a thousand a month, but no more.”

  “A thousand a month? There ain’t no way I can afford that. I never seen a thousand a month my whole life.”

  “Tell him I’m paying the rent.”

  Her mouth fell open.

  “I’ll pay the utilities, too. Now, this,” I held out the card again, “is for furniture, food, medicines, doctors, all the other things you’ll need. Let me know when you’re ready to move, and I’ll bring some friends and a truck to help.” I couldn’t think of a better place to spend Kahlil Carpenter’s money, although it was probably his insurance company’s money.

  She shook her head so hard I thought she might sprain something. “No, no, no. Libby, you don’t know how much all that will cost. How am I going to keep things going after you spend all your money? Your heart’s in the right place, child, but you got no sense.”

  I slid the card into her shirt pocket. “I set up an account wi
th a hundred thousand, Amanda. When it runs dry, I’ll put some more in it. And tell Jason, when he finds the building, to send the rent and utility bills to me.” I figured the money would last years. I was sure Amanda wouldn’t know how to spend a hundred thousand credits.

  I was doing pretty good up until then, but when the tears started running down her face, I almost lost it.

  “Hey, I gotta go. One thing, though. You know this Jorey that Glenda’s hanging with?”

  “Sure, I know him.”

  “Where would I find him?”

  “You don’t want to. Damned gangbanger.”

  “He’s in a gang?”

  “He runs a gang. The Eastside Boys. Girls, drugs, extortion.”

  “How old is he?”

  “I dunno. Nineteen, twenty maybe. Stay away from him. He’s bad news.”

  “Thanks.” I gave her a hug and fled. I don’t do well with tears and thank yous.

  On my way out, I grabbed Glenda. “You want to go live someplace that’s warm all the time? Three meals a day? Shoes?”

  She stared at me as though I’d grown another head.

  “Well?”

  “You’re gonna ‘dopt me?”

  Damn. Careful Libby. “No, I’m going to take you someplace that will give you a job and teach you to read and write. Someone who owes me a favor.”

  “Is he nice?”

  My heart about broke right then and there. Glenda categorized men as nice or not nice, depending on whether they enjoyed hurting her when they raped her.

  “No, honey, it’s a woman, and she won’t ever ask you to take off your clothes and be nice to men.”

  “Sure,” she said with a perky smile. “Will I still see you sometimes?”

  “You’ll see me more often.”

  She reached out and took my hand. “We shouldn’t tell Jorey I’m leaving. I think he’ll be mad.”

  As we passed into the nicer parts of the city, I noticed a number of people giving us some strange looks. Glenda was filthy and she stank. When we got to Mom’s place, I took Glenda around back and knocked on the kitchen door. The dishwasher answered.

  “What do you want?”

  “I need to see Lilith.”

  “Go to the front. You can’t come in here.”

  “Call Dominik, please.” The chef knew what I looked like in my regular form as well as the redheaded form. A lot of Mom’s employees thought she had two daughters, the nice redhead named Lizzie, and me.

  The dishwasher sneered at me, but turned and yelled for Dominik, who came over.

  “I need to see Mom,” I said. I wasn’t sure he heard me because he was staring so hard at Glenda. I didn’t care. Taking her hand, I walked up the steps and into the kitchen. Dominik backed up out of my way.

  “Thank you,” I told him with a smile. I dragged Glenda through the kitchen as quickly as I could. I didn’t think her smell would affect any of the food, but better not to take the chance. As for her, she simply gaped at everything. I think she was as stunned as Dominik.

  The office door was open, so I presented myself with Glenda behind me.

  “Hi, Mom. I need a favor.”

  “All right,” she said, pushing her chair back from the desk. “Do I get to hear what it is before I agree to it?”

  “Not really. Just say yes and then I’ll explain.”

  She threw her head back and laughed. “Who the hell taught you the art of negotiation?”

  “You did. See how well I paid attention?”

  I stepped into the office, pulling Glenda with me. Mom stared at her even more incredulously than Dominik had.

  “No.” She seemed to be trying to say something else, but in the end she just repeated, “No.”

  “She needs a job,” I said. “Dishwasher, scrub the floors, clean the rooms, take out the trash, anything. She’ll work for room and board, and she needs to learn to read and write. That’s all I’m asking.”

  “No. Good God, Libby. What in the hell were you thinking?”

  I bit my lip, took a deep breath and looked down at Glenda’s crestfallen expression. I realized how stupid I’d been in building up the girl’s hopes. For the first time in years, I wanted to cry.

  “Fine. I’ll just take her back and dump her on the street. The gangs and other predators will be glad to have her back. No big deal. We’ll just wash our hands of her. Would you like to contribute to the burial fund, or isn’t that important either? Just let her rot after they rape her to death?”

  I didn’t know who was more shocked, Glenda or my mom. They stared at me with identical expressions of horror. Mom closed her eyes, and I could see her face twitching and moving. When she opened her eyes, I could see they were filmy with tears.

  “Damn you,” Mom said. “Other people’s kids bring home kittens and puppies. Who is she? Where the hell did you find her?”

  I gave her a brief history of how I met Glenda and gotten to know her over the past couple of years. “Mom, Nellie suggested bringing her here over a year ago. I’m not asking you to train her to be one of your girls. Just give her a chance. She needs a stable environment, and Lord knows, she can’t stay with me. She’s a good girl, honest.”

  “I don’t steal,” Glenda said in a tiny voice. “Miz Rollins says Jesus say stealing is wrong.”

  A single tear escaped my mother’s eye. She wiped it away and said, “I’ll take her on a trial basis. But you, missy, will be involved. You’re not just dumping her on me and then wander off on your merry way. You want her to read and write? You’re going to help teach her.”

  “Thanks, Mom. Glenda, this is Lettie, but when other people are around, you should call her Miss Lilith. Okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you, Miz Lettie. I’ll be good. I don’t take up much space and I don’t eat much.”

  “I can see that,” Mom said, “but I think we can fix it. Come on. Let’s go find you a place to stay and a bath.”

  She led us to a room over the kitchen, near the back stairs. It had a bed, a dresser and a bathroom.

  “Libby, take that dress out and burn it,” Mom said. “I don’t even want to touch it. Then while she takes a bath, you can go buy her some clothes.”

  “Take off your dress, Glenda,” I prompted. The girl pulled the shift over her head. She was completely nude under it, and Mom and I both stared. I could not only count her ribs, but every bone in her body. I knew she was thin, but not on the verge of starvation.

  Mom triggered the intercom. “Dominik, I’m in room twenty-three. Send me up a milk shake made with fruit.”

  “Small or large?” Dominik’s voice replied.

  “Small, but I may want another one in a couple of hours.”

  “Should I expect one more person for meals?” he asked.

  “Yes. Thank you.” Mom turned to me. “What are you waiting for? Get rid of that rag.” She went into the bathroom and started running water in the tub. “Glenda, come here.”

  Glenda looked at me and I nodded. “Do whatever she tells you. She’s my mother, Glenda, and my best friend. You don’t have to be afraid.”

  I picked up the shift with my thumb and one finger. Holding it at arm’s length, I took it down the back stairs and pitched it in the dumpster in the alley. A store that sold clothing was four blocks away, and I bought two weeks’ worth of underwear, a couple of training bras, a few dresses, tops and pants, and a pair of sandals. I could estimate the clothing, but not the shoe size, so I figured I’d take her for shoes later. I also picked up a couple of filter masks. I shuddered to think of how much damage her lungs had suffered, even at her age.

  When I got back, Glenda was sitting in the tub sucking on a straw in a milkshake, and Mom was torturing her with a hairbrush.

  “Hey, don’t do that,” I said. “Just cut it all off. It’ll grow back.” The bath water was cleaner than I expected.

  “That’s the second bath,” Mom said. “She turned the water black the first time around.” She stood up straight and stared down at the g
irl, then at the hairbrush. “You’re probably right. I’m half afraid of what I might find in that mop.”

  “I would suspect lice,” I said. “Hopefully nothing worse.”

  “I’ll be right back. When she finishes that shake, explain the proper use of soap again. I’m not sure she understood the first lesson.” Mom dumped the brush in the bath and left the room.

  Two hours later, we had a pretty young lady with a shining face and half-inch-long blonde hair. Dominik had brought a second milk shake and she was industriously sucking away at it. With her free hand, she kept stroking her new maroon cotton dress as though it was precious.

  “My God, Libby,” Mom sighed. “She actually looks like a human being.”

  Chapter 6

  I dumped my clothes in the washer on the way to the shower. From the moment I hugged Glenda, I’d known that smell would cling to me. By the time I emerged, smelling of shampoo and conditioner, I realized I hadn’t eaten all day and I was starving.

  I called Nellie. She answered on the second ring and told me Richard was doing a family night. We agreed to meet at our favorite restaurant.

  An Poteen Stil, an Irish pub, served the best burgers and fish and chips in Toronto, along with the best beer and whisky. It was independently owned, not a corporate chain, and the grandson of the man who first opened the place tended the bar. I loved that it had a large dance floor and traditional Irish music seven nights a week.

  We were sharing a bread pudding dessert when a man stopped at our table. I looked up and saw it was Ron, the guy I met the night Adnan tried to kidnap me. He was wearing a t-shirt, and both arms were sleeved in tattoos.

  “Hello,” I said, trying to smile, talk, and swallow at the same time. I’m always classy like that.

  “Hi, how are you?” He looked from me to Nellie and back. “So this is where the blues diva comes on her night off.”

  Nellie winked at him. “You’ve discovered my secret.”

  “You with someone?” I asked.