Cold Blooded (25 page)

With the beverages in separate ice buckets, Nick entered the pool area where Rachel and Jean were already swimming. He watched Rachel in her black bikini glide smoothly from one end of the pool to the other, as did the other half dozen men in the pool area with their families. Nick placed the towels and ice buckets on an empty table, along with his bag containing the satellite phone, keys, and stun gun. The pool area was crowded and noisy, but the people thinned out quickly, having been at the pool longer.

Rachel followed Nick into the hot tub nearly forty-five minutes later. Jean played in the swimming pool with three siblings near her age: two girls and a boy. Rachel pointed at the satellite phone Nick had in hand.

“You’re going to call Grace, aren’t you?”

“You know me so well.”

“It couldn’t wait until morning?” She settled in next to him.

“We haven’t called her since we were on the road to Denver. I have to see if anything’s changed before we move on,” he explained. “I waited until I had a beautiful woman, a beer, and a hot tub before calling her.”

“You think I’m beautiful, big boy?” Rachel batted her eyes at him comically, nearly making him lose the last gulp of liquid through his nose.

“Don’t…” Nick choked while avoiding Rachel. “Let me get this over with.”

“Oh fine. One measly compliment and then it’s back to business.” She moved away from Nick haughtily.

He hit the key to speed dial Grace, shaking his head at Rachel.

“Nick, is that you? Speak up, boy. You’re the only caller who can get through to me without an ID.”

“It is I, Nick the novelist, checking in with my favorite Marshall. How’s Timmy and Lassie?”

“Oh, you’re a real crackup. All hell is breaking loose around the country. I want to know where you are and what you had to do with it?”

“Huh?” He waited for Grace’s reaction.

“We have a dead senator in a Denver love pad with his mistress, and a sniper team nearby who apparently came to blows and killed each other in a fit of angst over God knows what. The real kicker is the senator and this sniper team were connected by the same closed down clandestine operation your name popped up in. Care to comment?”

“In what way? What…you think I caused some senator to screw himself to death, and talked two sniper guys into a duel, all while I’m hiding out with Rachel, Jean, and Deke the dog? Wow, you really do have a high opinion of my abilities, Grace.”

Rachel was in a full blown, hands-over-mouth, convulsions of laughter, with Nick making quieting gestures at her with his hand. She moved further away from him.

“Okay, that does sound stupid when you put it like that,” Grace admitted. “We hadn’t heard from you for weeks and…well, we were worried you were connected with Denver.”

“We’re laying low, Grace, sorting things out. Are we still on for the drives?”

“Yes. They’re willing to meet your demands and let you extract the drives any way you can. We’re to cover for you unless the op gets turned into a wild-west show, in which case we disown your ass.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Frumpy. Talk to you soon.” Nick ended the call as Rachel moved in close again.

“Denver caused some waves, huh?”

“Yep, but we surfed right over them like Banzai Jack. I love it when a plan comes together.”

Rachel knocked on the door, and Nick let her in. He was dressed in khaki shorts and a strapped t-shirt. Rachel moved into his arms, the thin pink cotton pullover nightgown doing nothing to insulate the feel of her body against his. She held him tightly, her cheek resting against his shoulder.

“Good Lord, woman, you smell good,” he whispered.

“It’s called Scent of Arousal. Like it?”

“More than I can say.” He forced her toward the bed. “It smells just as wondrous as it did last night.”

“Last night?… Oh, don’t Nick, Jean’s up. I told her I was waking you for breakfast. I thought you’d be comatose after, well, you know?”

“Our extended interlude?”

“Yes.” She laughed, feeling Nick’s attention right through her clothes. “You look like you’ve been up for hours. I’m glad Jean went to bed early yesterday.”

“Me too.” He guided Rachel over to his notebook computer set up on the desk with his satellite uplink attached. “Fletcher Exports definitely ranks up there with Tanus. I can understand why they want to get their hands on the flash drives. I did some hacking around and found some interesting new hires on their payroll sheets. We may not be flying blind when we get to Sarasota.”

She looked over the pictures Nick had on the screen and gasped. She pointed to a husky, clean shaven man with dark hair. “That’s the guy I saw with Tanus, when they finished torturing Rick. He’s working for Fletcher now?”

“Yep. He’s among the hired-muscle I think would be waiting for us in Florida,” Nick answered, nuzzling her neck. “I guess it explains how Fletcher Exports all of a sudden knows the drives are in Florida. I’m surprised Tanus didn’t whack this Javier Martine before he had a chance to switch sides.”

Rachel moaned, her hands dropping to her sides, as she jutted back against him. Suddenly she spun around, grabbing his hands. “Nick, I want that Javier guy.”

“To play with or just do yourself?” he asked curiously.

“I…I don’t think I could torture him.”

“Good. One step at a time, Nikita. I believe you’ve earned it. Let’s see what part our Javier plays in Sarasota before you carry out the death sentence.” He pulled her right hand up to his lips, while he ran his fingertips up and down her arm until she shuddered.

“Huuuuummmmm…don’t do that. You know it drives me nuts,” Rachel complained, but moved into him instead of pulling away.

Nick lifted her up and into him, his hands supporting her bottom. Her legs wrapped around his hips and their open mouths met in tense anticipation. She groaned, feeling him poke into her through the flimsy nightgown. She reached down and tore it upwards toward her waist. She unfastened Nick’s shorts, never parting from his lips. A knock on the door startled them both as Nick had been on the verge of impaling Rachel.

“Hey, in there…Deke and me want to play Frisbee before breakfast,” Jean’s voice called out, followed by a short gruff bark from her sidekick.

“Oh my God!” Rachel whispered, panting for breath as she slid down away from Nick, her face flushed.

“We’ll be out in a minute, Danger,” Nick yelled back. “You and Scruffy the Wonder Dog go back to your room and we’ll be right there, okay?”

“Okay, Nick.”

“So, this is what married with children is all about.” Nick gave Rachel a quick kiss before turning away to get dressed.

Rachel seethed. “She has your timing.”

“I like staying here, Nick,” Jean commented as they walked toward the restaurant at the Days Inn. “How long can we stay?”

“Maybe one more day,” he answered, exchanging glances with Rachel. “Deke really likes this place too. We still have a ways to go on this leg of our journey, kid. Tell you what, when we finish in Florida, we’ll head back to California this way. We’ll make a real sightseeing trip out of it with no more than a few hundred miles a day driving.”

“I’m flying back if we don’t stop at least three times in Kansas,” Rachel added.

“Three times it is, then,” he agreed. “I -”

He looked out at the parking lot, where three young men were walking along, checking out cars. Jean had wanted to stay late at the pool, because her three friends were there, so they were eating late. The parking lot security lights had come on as the sensors detected the approaching night. Rachel followed Nick’s line of sight toward the lighted parking lot.

“What’s wrong?”

“Those three gentlemen wandering around out in the parking lot are looking to boost a car,” Nick answered, stopping to watch them. “I’ll go put in a word at the office. I’m sure they have some security guys here. I don’t know what level of expertise they have, but I damn well don’t want the Escalade taken right under my nose.”

“This is Missouri, not New York, Nick. Are you sure they’re not simply checking out the different models?”

“I’m pretty sure.” He grinned over at Rachel.

“Why don’t you go get them, Nick?” Jean looked around Rachel at the parking lot. “Where’d they go?”

“Around the corner, looking for an easy one. I’m not Batman. I don’t want to draw any attention, so I think I’ll leave this up to the proper authorities. You two go on in the restaurant and order me up anything that looks good.”

“Don’t do anything that’ll put us on the road again tomorrow, Batman,” Rachel warned. “I need another day and night break after Kansas.”

“We won’t have anything to be on the road with if they get the Escalade, Nikita,” Nick pointed out with some exasperation. “It is one of the most stolen vehicles around.”

“You should have Lojack.” Rachel giggled at his reaction.

“That would fit right in with my secret identity. Get moving.”

He waited until Rachel and Jean entered the restaurant before jogging toward the office. The same desk clerk who had checked them in the night before was on duty. He smiled at Nick.

“Hello, Sir, may I help you?”

“I believe you have three young guys looking to steal a car in your parking lot. Right now, they’re looking for a quick one with the keys in the ignition. Do you have a security man on staff?”

“Yes, we do,” the clerk answered, picking up his phone. A few seconds later he engaged someone on the phone, and then hung up. “Our assistant manager handles security matters after six. She’ll be right out.”

“Okay, should I wait?” Nick wondered if the trio had reached the parking lot where his Cadillac was parked yet.

“Yes, Ms. Tobler will, ah, here she is, Sir.”

Nick turned around. He watched a brown-haired woman in her late thirties, dressed in a black skirt and light blue blouse approach. She had on black shoes, flat at the heel and was only a couple inches shorter than Nick. Her brown hair, cropped in short straight fashion, lent a lean hard look to the woman’s face. She stuck her hand out as she approached.

“Leslie Tobler, Mr…”

“Weatherby, Ms. Tobler, Roscoe Weatherby.” He shook her hand, appreciative of the solid grip. “I saw three young men out cruising your parking lot on foot. Two were about my height, light complexion, wearing jeans, white t-shirts, and ball caps. The third was a couple inches taller than me, dark complexioned, wearing jeans and a black parka. He had on a ball cap too.”

“Wearing a parka, in this heat… maybe you’re on to something, Mr. Weatherby. Would you walk with me and identify these three men?”

“Ah, do you have a weapon, Ms. Tobler? The guy with the parka’s probably packing something lethal, and the other -”

“Why don’t we have a look first, Sir?” Tobler smiled reassuringly at him. “I have my cell-phone with the Concordia police on speed dial. If the three look suspicious, I’ll call it in while we keep an eye on them.”

“Sounds good. They were on their way around the building to our left.”

“Fine,” Tobler acknowledged, setting a brisk pace toward the entryway. “Where do you hail from, Mr. Weatherby?”

“Nevada, Ma’am.”

“Leslie, please,” Tobler urged with a slight English accent, veering to the left as they cleared the entryway. “Anywhere near the Las Vegas area?”

“Yes, we have a house there,” Nick answered, not liking where the questions were going.

“Have you heard about the bodies they’ve discovered in the desert? It was on all the newscasts.”

“No, we’ve been taking in the sights on the way, trying to keep clear of the news.”

“I know what you mean.” Tobler glanced over at Nick’s bearded countenance. “I guess they still lose a few bodies out in the Las Vegas desert even now.”

“They sure do.”
Too bad the damned discovery wasn’t a couple months away though. This may play hell with my stay another day plan.

“There’s one of them.” Nick pointed to a t-shirted man looking into car windows in a line of parked cars. “His two friends are down the way, working back towards him.”

“I see them.” Tobler sighed, taking out her phone. She pushed a button and waited. “This is Leslie Tobler, assistant manager at the Day’s Inn on Third Street. We have three men casing our parking lot and… Yes, that’s right. Okay then. Fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen minutes?” Nick repeated with some concern, seeing the taller one of the three glance their way.
Maybe they’ll abort the heist.

Instead the man walked toward them, exaggerating his already affected glide. Nick watched parka man’s hands as he approached, with his two buddies falling in behind him.

“What you lookin’ at?” Parka man asked Nick.

“I’m Leslie Tobler, head of security at Day’s Inn,” Tobler broke in with confident tone. “Do you have a room here, Sir?”

“It’s a free country, cuz,” parka man retorted. “We just checkin’ out the rides, Mrs. No need to go Dick Tracy on us.”

“The police will be here shortly,” Tobler continued. “I would advise -”

“What?” Parka man backed off a step, reaching into the pocket of his jacket. “I’ll show you shortly -”

Nick dropped and leg-whipped parka man off his feet, spinning to trap his adversary’s hand in the jacket pocket. Tobler had calmly stepped back and sprayed parka man’s companions from a keychain pepper spray can she had in hand. They stumbled back in agony, but Tobler pressed the attack, spraying until the two dropped to the ground gagging and yelling. Nick flipped the gasping parka man to his stomach, crossing the man’s arms behind his back, rendering him immobile. He held him there while patting the parka pocket.

“Are you all right, Mr. Weatherby?” Tobler kept her eyes on the two she had sprayed.

“I’m fine. This one’s armed. Feels like a 9mm.”