“Twelve-thirty.”
He shot Robertson twice in the chest and once in the face. “Time to go.”
They strolled out the office door and across the street to the Cadillac. A few clouds were drifting across the sky. “It’s so much fun working with you,” Bryan said. “I just feel so much more confident knowing that you’ve got my back.”
Nicole smiled and took his hand. “Whether I’m with you or not, I’m always going to have your back.”
“Let’s do some banking.”
On the drive over to Milton Bank, they stopped at a Pick-N-Pay. Nicole went into the ladies’ room with a canvas tote bag and locked the door. She took off the blonde wig and her black suit, folded them into the bag, and put on some padding to fill out her hips and her bust. Then she put on a teal dress and black sweater suitable to an office assistant, and styled her hair to match Molly’s. A few touch-ups to her makeup, and she could pass for Molly if anyone at the bank happened to remember the one time she had been there.
Bryan pulled up to the front as she came out of the building. “You’re a magician.”
“Don’t jinx it.”
“I’m not jinxing it. I’m just telling the truth.”
It was 1:30 p.m. when they pulled into a parking space away from the security camera at Milton Bank. There were three cars in the parking lot, all parked away from the doors. “You set?” Bryan asked.
“I’m ready to go.”
“Knock ’em dead.”
The bank was empty. Nicole walked up to the teller counter carrying a canvas tote. She felt hyperaware, almost as if she was outside her body watching herself work. Mr. White was nowhere to be found. She took a slow breath and fell into her role. The teller, a young woman wearing designer glasses, smiled at her. “Welcome to Milton Bank. How can I help you?”
“I’m Molly Wright. I’m from Mr. Robertson’s office. I need access to the safe-deposit box.”
“Do you have a key?”
She held up the key. “Yes.”
“Are you on the list?”
She nodded.
The teller came out from behind the counter. “Follow me.”
Nicole followed her into a vault lined with safe-deposit boxes of various sizes. The teller took out the list of people allowed to access Robertson’s safe-deposit box, saw the name Molly Wright and asked Nicole for a picture ID. Nicole produced a forged ID. The teller had her sign and date the box access list. Nicole forged Molly’s signature.
“Do you need a viewing room?”
“Yes.”
The teller used Nicole’s key and the bank’s key to open the safety deposit box, slid out the drawer, and carried it into a room the size of a closet that contained a built-in counter and a stool. She set the drawer on the counter. “Let me know when you’re ready to leave.”
Nicole locked the door and lifted the lid on the box. It was full of fat envelopes. She opened the top one. Inside was a half-inch thick, banded bundle of one-hundred-dollar bills—$10,000. She counted the envelopes out onto the counter. Thirty-two, which meant $320,000. She opened her tote. She only had $200,000 in banded bundles of counterfeit hundreds. She swapped the counterfeit for the genuine, emptying and filling the envelopes, put the counterfeit into the drawer first, and then covered it with the $120,000 she couldn’t swap. She stepped back out into the hall, where the teller was waiting for her. “All done?”
Nicole handed her the drawer. The teller took the drawer back into the security-deposit-box vault and brought Nicole’s key back to her. “Anything else I can help you with?”
“No, thanks. That’s all.”
Nicole strolled out of the bank and climbed back into the Cadillac. She felt giddy. This was the way every job should go.
“All good?” Bryan asked.
“All good.”
He backed out of the parking spot.
“There was three-hundred-twenty thousand in the box.”
He pulled out into traffic. “So we left a hundred-twenty thousand.”
“Yeah. I put the good stuff on top.”
He chuckled. “Two hundred K.”
“Do you want to pick up some more counterfeit and go back for the rest?”
“Let’s not get greedy. When Robertson’s found dead, everything is going to go crazy. It’s time to leave town.”
Two weeks later, Bryan and Nicole stood in the shower together in a one-bedroom timeshare at Vista Lake Villages. No one was after them. Neal Robertson had vanished from the face of the earth, which meant the somehow Spanish Mike had gotten there ahead of the police. And according to the news reports, all the bodies at Cricket Bay had been conveniently filed under gang warfare. They stood under the spray together, saying nothing, just holding hands, their eyes closed. Finally, Nicole turned off the shower. Bryan looked her over, slowly turning her in a circle. “All healed. One new scar, but not a big one.”
She kissed him lightly. “It’s time for me to get back to James.”
“I know.”
She gave him a quizzical look.
“You’ve got your spirit back.”
“Mr. White rarely sneaks up on me anymore. I’m feeling good. I’ve got you to thank for that.”
“You did the heavy lifting. I just provided the pattern.”
They stepped out of the shower. Nicole handed Bryan a towel before she started drying herself. “I don’t want to be gone too long. James will think he’s lost me. You going to be okay?” she asked.
“I’ll be fine.”
“I need to know that you’re going to be a good boy.”
“I’ve got plenty of money.”
“What are you going to do when you get bored?”
“Is it okay if I seduce a married woman?”
“As long as she’s not part of a job.”
Bryan hung up his towel. “If it’s your last day, you get to choose the restaurant.”
Nicole studied his face. “Are you really going to be okay?”
“I’ve got to say, baby, I was really worried about you after what Mr. White did to you.”
“I could tell.”
“Doesn’t matter how tough you are, you only bounce back from so many of those.”
“I know.”
“I couldn’t be prouder of the way you handled yourself.”
She put her hands on his hips and looked up into his face. “So you want me to be safe. That’s why you’re going to be okay.”
He kissed her. “There’s no air between us. We’re always skin on skin. It doesn’t matter who you’re with or where you’re at—you’re always mine. That’s why I’m going to be okay. Let’s get dressed and go to dinner.”
Denison stood on the right of way near the San Francisco Bay Trail leading up to the Golden Gate Bridge. Even though it was still early, in the midst of morning rush hour, tourists on rented bicycles, runners, and skaters all zoomed past behind him. The fog on the bay was slowly thinning, the sun cutting through it and promising a sunny afternoon. Denison sipped his coffee. This was his morning spot. He sat on a boulder and watched the seagulls ride the breeze and swoop down for edible bits. A freighter appeared out of the fog, easing along, headed for the docks. A man carrying a tripod camera walked along the edge of the water, found his spot, set up the tripod, and started taking pictures of the bridge. Denison wondered if he was any good. So many pictures of the bridge seemed pretty much the same.
“James.”
He looked back up toward the street. Nicole was walking toward him, making her way through the rocks. She looked like a mirage: slave sandals, skinny jeans, a bright red, scooped-neck top, her hair loose around her shoulders. For a moment he wasn’t quite sure it was really her. But it was. Not the woman who left with Bryan, but the woman he’d known at the beginning.
She walked straight into his arms and gave him the hard kiss that always says “I missed you.” He breathed in her scent, then stepped back and held her by the arms as if he was afraid she would vanish into thin air. �
�When did you get here?”
“Just now. I let myself into your apartment. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind.” He laughed. “That’s great, in fact. How did you find me?”
She punched him playfully on the shoulder. “I have my devious ways.”
“I’m so surprised. I can’t stop looking at you.”
“You thought I wasn’t coming back.”
“It had crossed my mind.”
“You should have called.”
“I didn’t want to crowd you.”
“Jimmy, really? We’re closer than that.”
“What do I call you now?”
“Call me? Nicole. With you I’m always Nicole.”
“Have you eaten? You want to get some breakfast? There’s a place near my apartment.”
They walked hand-in-hand out of the park, across the street and past the nearby businesses, and into a neighborhood of narrow two- and three-story houses with privacy fences. The on-street parking was crowded with cars. Up ahead on the corner on the left was a mom-and-pop restaurant called Morning Flower Cafe. Denison held the door for her. The restaurant was mostly empty. Contemporary folk music played from speakers high up on the walls. A sign at the hostess stand said Seat Yourself. They sat at a table in the window.
“How’s Bryan?”
“He’s keeping busy. You might remember that he ran into some trouble just before he came to help us.”
“Yeah.”
“That was because I wasn’t there to help him and his new associate wasn’t up to the job. But we got that sorted out.”
Their server, a thin young man wearing black pants and a white shirt with a turquoise and gold bolo tie, set menus down in front of them. They ordered coffee. Nicole looked out the window and twirled a strand of hair before she spoke again. “I was going to wait until later to talk about this, you know, after a few days of bliss, but since we’re on the subject, in the interest of transparency, I guess we’ll have the tough talk now.” Her smile faded.
“The tough talk?”
She nodded. “I really like being with you, James.”
“I really like being with you.”
“And I think we’re good together.”
“Ditto.” His heart began to pound.
“And after that crazy trouble, your kids will get behind us now.”
“But?”
“But Bryan needs me. He thought he’d train somebody new, but that didn’t work out.”
Denison sighed. “So you’re not going to stay?”
“No, silly.” She swiped at the air. “I want to stay. But if we’re going to be together, I need to be able to help Bryan when he needs me.”
Their server brought their coffee. They ordered omelets with toast. After he left, Denison said, “Will you sleep with other guys?”
“For work?”
He nodded.
“If I have to.”
“Even after what happened?”
“Rape isn’t about sex.”
“I know that.”
“But you don’t know it. How can you, when it’s never happened to you?”
“But sleeping with guys, in your work—that can be dangerous.”
“Yeah, what I do can be dangerous.”
“And you still want to do it?”
“It’s my choice.”
“But you don’t have to do it anymore. I want you to stay with me.”
“That’s sweet, Jimmy, and I really appreciate it, but I just can’t leave Bryan in the lurch. If you want me, that’s the way it’s got to be.”
“So I’d have to share you with him.”
“If you put it that way.”
“And you’d still be sleeping with him?”
She shrugged. “I won’t lie to you. Not about anything important.”
They were quiet while their server set their breakfast dishes down before them. “What’s important?” he asked.
“Anything that’s about us.”
“It’s crazy. I don’t know how I’ll feel about it in the future, but right now I want to be with you so much that I’ll share you with him if that’s what I have to do.”
“When I’m with you, I’m only with you.”
“I know.”
“But when I disappear for weeks at a time, come back with a new scar and can’t tell you what I’ve done—well, you’re just going to have to trust me.”
“So that’s the talk?” Denison asked.
“Yes, that’s the talk.”
“And what about what happened to you? You seem completely like your old self. Before, you cringed when I touched you.”
“Some days are worse than others, but I am doing better. It’s hard to explain, but me and Bryan together, doing our thing, it heals me. Little by little I feel my confidence return, and the crazy despair goes away. It must sound weird.”
“So this has happened before?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“I love you. I want to know everything about you.”
They sat quietly for a while, eating their breakfasts and looking out the window onto the street. Their server cleared the dishes and brought their check.
“What do you want to do next?” he asked.
“Don’t you have work?”
“It’s been a month since I’ve seen you. I’m going to take the day.”
She smiled mischievously. “Then I think we should spend the day like newlyweds, lying naked in bed and ordering delivery food. What do you think about that?”
“Maybe we should go out for a late supper. I know a little Italian place where we can get a reservation.”
“That sounds great.”
He reached across the table and took her hand. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me too,” she said. “Me too.”
Later that day Bryan received a text from Nicole. Everything was as it should be. He slipped his phone back into his pocket. He was watching a middle-aged woman sitting with two girlfriends at a table across the restaurant. She was wearing a bright red, short-sleeved dress and a strand of pearls. She seemed a likely prospect: outgoing, sure of herself, working on her second glass of wine. She looked amazingly like Nicole, though her gestures were different. She finally noticed he was watching her. He smiled. She smiled back. He went back to his newspaper and his Rueben sandwich, but he surreptitiously kept an eye on her. When she and her girlfriends got up to leave, he followed them. Out in front of the restaurant, he caught up to her.
“I’m sorry,” he said, putting his hands into the pockets of his sports coat, “I know this sounds like the worst sort of cliché, but you look familiar to me. Have we met before?”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”
He put on a puzzled expression. “Really?”
“Now you’re just flirting.”
“Guilty as charged. I’m Doug. Doug Johnson.” He stuck out his hand.
“What makes you think I’m going to tell you my name?”
“Ouch.”
She smiled.
“You busy this afternoon?”
“You bored?”
“Yes. Yes, I am bored. Do you like the aquarium? I’d like to go, but I don’t want to go alone.”
“You’re very persistent, Doug.”
“Thank you.”
“What do you think my husband would think of me spending the afternoon with a strange man?”
“We keep talking, and I won’t be a stranger.”
“And why did you choose me?”
“You really do look like an old friend of mine. She’s the kind of woman who knows her own mind, likes a little adventure. I thought you might be that sort of woman too.”
She folded her arms. “You are a bad boy.”
“Hey, if you don’t like the aquarium, we could go to the art museum, or just take a walk in the park. All nice, safe public places. Just looking for some stimulating conversation. I find that most experiences are improved by
the company of an interesting woman.”
“You’re quite the flatterer.”
“Is it flattery if it’s true?”
“There’s a photography museum around the corner from here on Eleventh Street. There’s a new exhibit of landscapes I haven’t seen, if you care for that sort of thing.”
“Fantastic. Lead the way.”
They started down the sidewalk, Bryan making light conversation, thinking about how much he was going to enjoy the challenge of getting her into bed. He was glad it wasn’t an obvious sure thing. Hit or miss, it was going to make a great story to share with Nicole.
A Note from the Author
What a wild ride! The Travelers went to the edge and clawed their way back. They freed Bell, they dealt with the drug crew, and now Nicole is back on her feet.
What’s next?
Nicole’s living with Denison in San Francisco. She’s trying to adjust to the straight life, but the road’s got a few bumps. She’s found a new gal pal and she’s been teaching her some tricks. When one of these tricks backfires, her new friend comes running to Nicole for help.
Meanwhile, on the East Coast, the Traveling Man takes on a short-term safe-cracking job. Should be easy money. But when his partners are gunned down, he can’t run before he makes it right.
The Travelers live by a simple code. Keep civilians out of it. Never cheat a partner. Always get revenge. But when you’re backed into a corner and you’re at the limit of your tradecraft, what do you do?
The Murder Run is a no-holds-barred, hard-to-put-down thriller. Would you like to come along for the ride?
Find a sneak peek below, but if you can’t wait, click here: The Murder Run
A Sample of The Murder Run—The Travelers Book Six
1: Mitchellville
On Wednesday, in Mitchellville, a few hours west of Washington, DC, the Traveling Man, a con man going by the name Tony Rogers, sat on the sofa, his head down, trying his best to look despondent. Janet Gibson stood in the middle of the living room, her hair wet, her Japanese robe pulled tight around her thin body, an exasperated look on her face. “We both knew this was coming,” she said. “We’ve had some fun times.”
The Kidnap Victim Page 18
