“I think so. Jesus, Nick. Did you have to kill him?”
Nick watched Rachel’s lip trembling in her attempt to keep from crying.
“You’re reacting and not thinking. We will always have very few choices. When we choose, it will be quick, and there will be no time for regrets. Can you pick me up?”
“Yes.”
Nick started toward the garage, and then turned back. “This is all still a trial time until we get those flash drives to Tim and Grace. Afterward, you’ll be free to choose again.”
“I know.”
Chapter Nine
Complications
By the time Nick drove back to the Las Vegas city limits, it was nearly ten o’clock at night. He had decided to leave the Toyota in a low-income housing project on the outskirts of the city. He parked the Toyota and carefully went over the inside of the car again with his rags, cleaning the vehicle meticulously, wiping every square inch of the trunk and passenger compartment. Nick wrapped the shovel, rags, and bleach bottle in a black plastic bag, took the bag with him and abandoned the vehicle. When he reached the corner of East Sunset and Pabco, Nick called Rachel, giving her specific directions to his location. Twenty minutes later, she drove up next to him in the Escalade with Jean and Deke in the back. Nick threw the black bag into the rear storage compartment and got into the front seat.
“Is everything okay?” Rachel asked.
He could tell she was relieved he no longer wore Brewster’s clothing. “We’ll know soon. Did you bunch eat without me?”
“It’s almost midnight.” Jean replied, yawning. “We ate a long time ago. Where were you?”
“Running errands,” he answered, and left it at that.
* * * *
Nick took his beer out to the back patio with Deke trailing him. He felt much better after a shower, but knew from experience it would be a while before he could sleep. The sliding glass door opened behind him, startling Nick. Rachel pulled another chair over near his, holding out a fresh beer to him. Rachel wore the same shorts and blouse she had worn earlier.
“I thought you went to bed,” he said.
“I couldn’t sleep. I keep seeing Brewster staring at me with the ‘I’m dead’ look.”
“It was all nice and cozy there for a few moments, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, Nick,” she said with a sigh, “It really was.”
* * * *
Nick glanced down at Deke where he lay near his chair. He nudged Deke’s flank with his foot, smiling when Deke replied with a short growl without looking up. Nick had been typing away on his new manuscript since getting up at six. As usual, writing smoothed the rough edges of reality. A mobster put out a hit on his character Diego, endangering the assassin’s way of life. Nick had enjoyed turning Diego loose to cut a swath through the mobster’s ranks, killing indiscriminately until the mobster rescinded the order and paid Diego a million dollars. He heard footsteps and looked up as Jean walked into the kitchen. The little girl waved at him before fending off Deke, who was now leaping around in front of her. Nick gave out a short whistle, and Deke returned to his place beside Nick’s chair.
“You’re up early.” He noticed it was only twenty minutes past eight. “I figured you’d wake around noon after being up so late.”
“I’m excited about hanging out with Kelly and Garth today.” Jean slipped into the chair next to his. Nick had cleaned and moved the chair Brewster had died in, and Jean sat in the same spot. He dropped the image of Brewster’s last moments at the same kitchen table from his mind and patted her hand.
“What can I get you for breakfast? Your mom did the grocery shopping for me while I was doing my errands. We have lots of food.”
“Could I have toast and tea?”
“I remember having toast and tea when I was a kid. The tea has to be strong, mixed with lots of sugar and milk, while the toast has to be crispy with butter, right?”
Jean nodded. “You know a lot of stuff, Nick.”
“Do you dunk the toast like I did?” He hung a teabag in one of his larger mugs, filled it with water, and heated it in the microwave. “It used to drive my mom nuts. The tea would end up filled with crumbs and I’d slurp it up. She’d look at me like I was from outer space.”
“That’s what my mom does!” Jean laughed, nodding her head excitedly. “She always says, ‘that is so gross’. Is your mom still alive?”
“No, honey, she passed away many years ago.” He put the bread in his four-slotted toaster and took the margarine from the refrigerator.
“Nick, is Mom mad at you?”
“She was a little upset because I had to go out on those errands last night and leave you two alone. I’m sure she’ll be fine this morning. You’re a pretty neat little girl, Jean. You don’t complain, and none of the awful things happening around you for the last year has messed with your mind too badly. What’s your secret?”
“I was messed up real bad when my dad was killed.” She clasped her hands in front of her in serious fashion. “That’s why I like you, Nick. See…ever since Dad died, everyone’s been running us around looking all scared and worried, even Grace and Tim. They’re US Marshalls, but they can’t really do anything. Bad guys killed Dad. Bad guys are tryin’ to kill us. Bad guys are why we had to leave New York. I kept wondering how come we can’t just kill the bad guys before they hurt us.”
Nick laughed, pointing at Jean appreciatively. “You’re all right, kid. I’m sorry things aren’t as easy in real life, or as straightforward.”
He spread margarine on the toast and doctored the tea up as he remembered from his own childhood. After cutting the toast diagonally, he placed the tea and toast in front of Jean on saucers.
“Better sip the tea, Jean. Make sure it’s perfect or the whole tea and toast thing will be ruined.”
She sipped the tea and made an audible ‘ah’ sound in satisfaction. “Yep, just right.”
Nick made more toast and filled his cup, joining Jean for breakfast with toast and coffee. She made a face as he dunked his toast in the coffee and gobbled it up.
“That’s gross! You’re supposed to dunk the toast in tea.” She giggled.
“Why you little elitist.” He reached over toward Jean as if to swat her, only to earn a no nonsense warning growl from Deke, who had appeared instantly at Jean’s side. “One of these days you won’t be with your bodyguard. You’ll be sorry then.”
“I still like you, Nick,” Jean petted Deke. The dog started lapping at the crumbs and bits of margarine on Jean’s hand. “Can I give Deke a piece of toast?”
“Sure, if he’ll eat it. He already scarfed a whole can of dog food this morning.”
Deke gulped the toast down as if he hadn’t eaten in a month.
“Wash those yucky hands after you finish giving Deke his treat, young lady.”
“Nick,” Jean said suddenly, sipping her crumb-filled tea. “How come you’re allowed to kill bad guys?”
Nick grinned. “Uh…actually, I’m not allowed to kill bad guys. You should know by now that no one is allowed to kill bad guys. They had tough childhoods. Their mommies and daddies beat them. Their self-esteem was lowered from the time they were in diapers. No one wants them to be bank presidents. People flash devil’s horns on their heads when they get their pictures taken. Animals growl at them. Pigeons decorate their cars. Even their -”
“What’s going on in here?” Rachel asked from the doorway, seeing Jean laughing raucously as Nick barked out his bad guy excuse list, counting them off on his fingers.
“Nick was…” Jean suppressed her laughter. “Nick was explaining why no one’s allowed to kill bad guys even though they keep trying to kill us.”
“Oh wonderful.” Rachel gave him a malevolent look, geared to make his toes and testicles curl up simultaneously. “Perhaps it would be better if you left off on teaching Jean from the psycho training manual for now.”
“At least Nick does something about bad guys!” Jean turned on Rachel. “Maybe if
Nick kills enough of ‘em, we won’t have to run anymore, Mom. I’m tired of being scared all the time. I want the bad guys to be scared!”
Deke barked, lending his support. A few toast crumbs exited his mouth. Rachel’s shoulders sagged. Jean climbed off her chair and walked over to hug her around the waist.
“Don’t be mad at Nick. We weren’t really talking about killing. Mostly, we were talking about toast and tea.”
“I know.” Rachel held Jean’s head to her gently. “I’m cranky from sleep deprivation. Sorry, Nick, I’m just jealous from hearing you two yucking it up in here. What’s this about toast and tea?”
“Nick ate toast and tea when he was a kid, just like me. He even slurps up the tea and crumbs same as I do.”
“Eeeewwww!” Rachel exclaimed, making a face. “There’s an image I could do without.”
Jean laughed and ran back to her seat. She held up her crumb-filled tea for Rachel’s disgusted reaction, and then sipped it noisily. Nick followed with his crumb-filled coffee.
“I think I’ll just have coffee,” Rachel announced, walking to the coffee maker with her left hand held up to the side of her face like a horse’s blinder, preventing the sight of crumb tea and coffee slurping on the way by.
“Jean reminded me of her scheduled get-together today,” Nick said, when Rachel was seated at the table across from Jean. “I think we should introduce ourselves to the mom, and have a chat.”
“No, Nick…don’t even -” Rachel began, a horrified look on her face.
“Calm down.” He cut her off with some disappointment, but understanding her leap in logic. “I meant a simple chat to be sociable.”
“Oh… Sorry.”
“God, Mom, what’d you think he meant, kill her?” Jean clucked, while shaking her head at Rachel. “I’m done. Thanks for breakfast, Nick. I’m going to take a shower and get ready.”
“You’re most welcome, my dear.” He watched Jean run off. He could feel Rachel looking at him appraisingly. “I think your daughter likes me better too.”
“Yeah, right! That’s because she doesn’t know you like I do. It’s all fun and games until someone gets their nose bone driven into their brain.”
“Ouch.”
* * * *
“I hope Suzan isn’t a Diego fan,” Rachel whispered sideways at Nick, as Jean ran ahead to her new friends’ door. “Your beard is coming in nicely, but Brewster freaked me out.”
“I’m more worried about whether it was Brewster’s idea to come visit, or Suzan sending him to check us out. You said she acted strange at the pool when you told her we were renting one of the cabanas,” Nick replied in an equally hushed voice, glancing up at the noon day Las Vegas sun. “Damn, it’s hot out here.”
“Deke should be happy grinding his soup bone into dust rather than rearranging furniture today.”
“We won’t be long.” Nick grinned, thinking of Deke working over the soup bone on his kitchen floor.
Kelly and Garth opened the door before Jean reached it. Nick heard their mother admonishing them for answering the door without her. The kids’ laughter receded as they ran together away into the house. A mid-thirties brunette in blue shorts and a white blouse smiled at them from the doorway, opening it for Nick and Rachel. Nick watched the woman for any sign of recognition.
“Come in. I’m Suzan Benoit, and I believe you’ve already met my two children,” she greeted them, gesturing Nick and Rachel inside. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk more at the pool, Rachel. The guy my husband hired as security for us gets really obnoxious when we meet anyone new while my husband’s out of town.”
“No problem – this is my husband Roscoe.”
“Just call me Ross.” Nick shook Suzan’s hand.
“Would you like something to drink?” Suzan led them through the western ranch style house into her kitchen. “I have soda, iced tea, juice…”
“I’ll have a soda,” Rachel said.
“Iced tea sounds good,” Nick added. “We were wondering about Mr. Brewster. He came over to see us yesterday afternoon, mentioning he worked in security for your family. He asked us some questions about our stay in Las Vegas, and then left.”
“He actually stopped by to see you?” Suzan looked genuinely surprised, as she served the drinks, taking iced tea for herself. “Carl usually asks my husband if he should check someone out. I hope he didn’t upset you. Carl can be rather abrupt and a little scary.”
“Not at all,” Rachel put in immediately. “Mr. Brewster was very nice to us.”
“Good.” Suzan sounded relieved. “I’ll ask him about it Monday when he comes over. He has the weekends off, because we locals stay away from the crowds. Carl knows we don’t go anywhere on the weekends, other than the smaller restaurants and grocery stores away from downtown. My husband, Jim, has been getting more and more uneasy about the new gang conglomerate formed in the city called ‘Squad Up’. He says they don’t need a reason to shoot at someone. Gang members even fired into a gated community just for the hell of it.”
“Thanks for the warning. We’ll watch ourselves.”
“Rachel said you own a house over on Fort Bowie. It’s funny we haven’t run into each other before.”
“Actually, I’ve owned the house for quite a while, but only spend a couple weeks a year there,” Nick explained. “Do you have much gang activity around here?”
“No, not really, and the school near here is real nice. What do you do for a living, Ross?”
“I’m a troubleshooter for a large firm,” he answered, hurrying into the question he wanted answered. “What does your husband do?”
“He’s in the import/export business on both coasts, which is why he’s away a lot.”
“Maybe it’s a good thing we met. My parent firm deals off shore. Do you have one of your husband’s business cards around? You never know when a need for someone with your husband’s expertise and contacts will come in handy.”
“Sure, I’ll get you one.” Suzan left the table and the kitchen for a few minutes before returning with a couple of cards. She handed them to Nick.
“Thank you.” Nick pulled out a business card he had made up that morning with his name and the Fort Bowie phone number on it. He handed one to Suzan. We’re going to have a barbeque later after Jean gets home. Would you and your kids like to join us?”
“Sure,” Suzan accepted gratefully. “It’s a treat being with adults. Should I bring anything?”
“Nope,” Nick answered, standing. “We’d better move along, hon. It was nice meeting you, Suzan. We’ll see you later then. How about around five?”
“Great, I’ll bring Jean with me.” Suzan walked Nick and Rachel to the door.
“That’ll work. If Jean starts acting up, call me, and I’ll come drag her home.”
Suzan laughed. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Goodbye.”
“It’s a Tanus subsidiary,” Nick said, handing Rachel one of Jim Benoit’s business cards in the car. “I’ll check on Benoit when we get home. It does explain how a mook like Brewster came to have a picture of you, Jean, and Rick.”
“And you invited her over for a barbeque…why?” Rachel asked caustically.
“Suzan will do one of two things, call her husband immediately, or take us at face value and forget the whole thing. I want to see which one she does.”
“You’ll actually know without her telling you?”
“I’ll work it into the conversation. Tanus Import/Export is a huge conglomerate on both coasts, which means they’ve been able to hide some very big undertakings. I’m certain their employees were given your picture long ago. I doubt more than a few people even knew Tanus was under indictment. I’d wager Mr. Benoit gave the picture to Brewster because he couldn’t be bothered with it.”
“Having Suzan and her kids over a day after you whacked their security guy would be unthinkable for anyone human…no offense meant.” She smiled at him, leaning a little so she could see his reaction.
&
nbsp; “None taken.” Nick pulled the Escalade into the open garage and shut the door. “It’s all the more reason to have them over. I don’t suppose you’d like to model your black bikini for me until Suzan arrives with the kids for the barbeque.”
“You write some more Diego and research Jim Benoit. I’ll prepare everything for our get together.”
“Throw the potatoes into the microwave, brush barbeque sauce on the steaks, cut up the French bread, and boil the corn on the cob. That’s about five minutes work. You’d have a long time left to model,” Nick pointed out as he exited the Escalade.
“Ever hear the old Jim Croce song ‘You Don’t Mess Around With Jim’?” Rachel began singing as she danced into the house. “You don't tug on Superman's cape. You don't spit into the wind. You don't pull the mask off that old Lone Ranger, and you don't mess around with…Nick.”
Nick laughed. Damn, she can carry a tune too. “Ah…when I was asking you to model the black bikini, I wasn’t considering it as a prelude to unarmed combat, Rach.”
* * * *
Rachel spun around, only to find Nick had covered the intervening space more quickly than she had anticipated. “Weren’t you? Why don’t we take a step back for the time being? I haven’t been assimilated completely into my new Terminator mentality yet.”
“Sure,” he agreed, taking her left hand in his right at the doorway. “I wasn’t trying to give you a hard time.”
“Yes you were.” She smirked at his double entendre, putting her right palm against his chest as he moved closer. Nick’s nearness, coupled with Jean’s absence, forced the more unpleasant aspects of the day before from her mind. “Hey, you’re invading my airspace.”
He pulled her right hand away from his chest and down to her side. They had dressed casually, he in t-shirt and jeans, Rachel in a burgundy cotton dress. As he forced her hands back around her hips, very little material separated them. She looked away from his face, feeling the heated flush enveloping her from where their bodies touched. Nick drew her tightly against him, making sure she had no question what the ‘hard time’ he had in mind really was. Deke stuck his nose up under Rachel’s dress, touching cold wet nose to bare back of thigh. Rachel jumped away from Nick with a cry of surprise. She laughed, seeing Deke sitting between her and Nick, looking questioningly from one to the other.
Cold Blooded Page 11
