Well, one scar anyway. A deep cicatricial scar ran from the corner of his left eye to somewhere beneath his mustache. It gave his scowling features a menacing look that she couldn’t connect with the man she had known so long ago.
He stood as she reached the table. She met his gaze and knew it immediately that it was John. His eyes had changed; the skin around them had tightened and showed the first signs of crows’ feet and the pupils themselves looked sadder, but they were still the pale, almost gray-blue that she remembered each time she thought of him.
“Hello, Caitlin.”
“My God, John. I hardly recognized you. You’ve changed.”
“It’s been a dozen years, Caitlin. Sometimes they slip by without leaving any sign of their passage, much as they’ve treated you. Other times, they just pile up.”
“Is that what they’ve done to you, pile up?”
“Some have. Won’t you sit? Can I order you a drink?”
Caitlin pulled the only other chair out and sat down. “No, thank you. I had one earlier and life has become a little too interesting to dull with more alcohol just now.”
“Coffee then?”
She nodded.
John caught the bartender’s eye, mouthed coffee, and held up two fingers before sitting down across from her.
The bartender appeared almost immediately and placed two cups on the table. “Cream or sugar?”
“No thanks,” Caitlin said.
John waited until the bartender had moved off. “I understand you need some assistance. From your abrupt disconnect, I gather it’s rather immediate.”
“Right to the point, eh John? You’ve changed more than in just your appearance. I remember when you could make small talk until sunup.”
He didn’t reply.
A chair grated across the wood floor, and Caitlin’s head snapped around. Across the room, a man stood up and staggered toward them. She watched him until he passed their table and disappeared down a hallmarked with a small sign labeled restrooms.
“Would you care to slide your chair around so you can see the front?”
She nodded and scooted her chair sideways until she sat elbow to elbow with him. She now had a good view of the rest of the bar and the front door.
John’s right hand moved toward her and, for a moment, she thought he was putting his arm around her, and then his hand moved toward her purse.
“What?”
He raised a finger to his lips and swept his right hand over her purse.
For the first time, she noticed he wore a bracelet on that wrist. A tiny light blinked on the bracelet.
Without a word, John opened the purse and beginning removing its contents one item at a time. His lack of explanation was irritating, and she reached for her purse to yank it away from him when he paused and held a pearl button over his bracelet. The light stopped blinking and burned steadily.
John closed his left fist tightly around the button. “Just a minute.”
Pushing his chair silently back, John stood and went to the bar. Caitlin watched him speak to the bartender, who nodded once and then held out his hand. John dropped the button into it and came back.
“What was that all about?”
“Did you recognize that?”
“No. It could have been one of my buttons, but I don’t normally have buttons in the bottom of my purse.”
“You didn’t this time either. That was a transmitter. Someone’s been tracking you.”
“Tracking me? Are you serious?”
“Of course.”
“Then this is some kind of detector?” she said as she reached for his wrist.
He pulled back.
Surprised, she dropped her hand back to her side.
“That’s right, an electric field detector.”
“Why’d you give the transmitter to the bartender?”
“He has a microwave behind the bar.”
“A microwave? What’s he going to do? Scramble it or fry it?”
“Neither, for now. If I just wanted to destroy it, I could have stepped on it.”
“Then why?”
“Microwave ovens have a shield to keep the microwave radiation inside during operation. The same shield will block the transmitter’s signal while I decide what to do with it.
“Now, perhaps you should tell me what’s going on.”
Caitlin took a deep breath and began. “Someone is after me.”
She spoke in a rush. She had a need to get it said as if the telling would make it seem more believable.
When she finished, John’s face betrayed no sign of emotion. “Doesn’t sound much like a professional job. Are you having troubles with ... Scott wasn’t it?”
Caitlin’s face darkened. “Scott’s dead.”
“Oh? Recently?”
“This afternoon.”
For the first time, his eyes seemed to shift and soften. “I’m sorry. Did his death have anything to do with the attack on you?”
“I ... I don’t know, but I can’t see it not having some connection. We were on the telephone when he was killed.”
John stared at her until she began to feel uncomfortable, then he looked away and took a small notepad from an inside pocket. “Give me those names again.”
Caitlin recited them and then took phone and called up the photo with the license plate number. John copied it and returned the notepad and pen to his jacket pocket. “They’re definitely government plate.”
John tapped his pen against the table. “Caitlin, how did you happen to find me?”
“I ... I came across your name on the Web a couple of months ago. It didn’t take long to find your home page after that.”
“I see. Well, I’m not tied up at the moment so I can probably help you. Business is business, but I’ll give you the cut rate for my time and whatever expenses I incur while helping you.”
“Expenses? Business? I thought, never mind. Do you take American Express?”
He almost smiled. “Caitlin, normally I do, but I wouldn’t recommend you use any of your cards just now. If the government is really involved, your cards will lead them right to us.”
“I see. Well, I’m not carrying much cash. What are your rates?”
He quoted a figure that made her wince. “But that’s the going rate. For you, half that, after all, what are friends for?”
“Yeah, right.”
“You sound like you don’t think I should be charging you.”
“I came to you because we were friends once.”
“And?”
“And? And friends are supposed to help friends.”
“Tell me something, Caitlin. If I came to you and asked you to design a special computer interface for me, would you do it for free?”
Caitlin shook her head. “No, we run a business, I couldn’t very well –”
“Exactly.”
“But this isn’t in your line of work.
“Is that so? What is it that you think I do?”
“The article mentioned something about the recovery of stolen information or something like that.”
“Yeah, that’s one aspect. I provide security, security for property, ideas, and self. I think you’re in need of a little self-protection. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Caitlin hesitated, and then reluctantly nodded. “Then how can I pay you?”
“We’ll work something out, assuming we both live through this. If not, well, satisfaction is guaranteed or your money back.”
Caitlin sat back in her chair and stared at him. “Is that your idea of humor?”
“No, not at all. I want to be honest with you. You’re in serious trouble, and I think I can help you. But until we have some inkling as to who these people are and why they want you dead, it’s going to be very hard to protect you.”
The front door opened, and Caitlin’s eyes jerked toward it. It was the Lexus couples leaving. She turned back to John. His steady gaze was questioning.
“Okay,” she said. “You�
��re hired. What’s our first move?”
“Our? Our first move is to put you somewhere out of sight. Then I’ll talk to the hotel security and check with the police, to see if your report was filed.”
CHAPTER 9
John settled his tab and told the bartender to give the transmitter thirty seconds on high. Then he directed Caitlin down a hallway choked with cases of beer, boxes of snack mix, and both full and empty kegs, toward the rear of the bar. They passed the restrooms and reached a steel fire door.
John opened it and looked around, then motioned for her to follow.
His car, a 1973 ‘Cuda was backed into a space on the wharf next to a garbage bin. As they approached it, he remotely triggered the locks.
The drive took them down the two eighty, past Daly City, onto highway 1, and across the last hills to the coastal road. A half-hour later, they pulled into the lot of a motel overlooking Half Moon Bay.
“Why here?” Caitlin asked.
He pulled into a parking space out of sight of the lobby and stopped. “I’ve used it on several occasions, but never under my real name. It’s far enough out of San Francisco to skip a check if they’re circulating your photo but close enough to run back into the city.”
“I see.”
“Besides, you’ll like the view of the bay.”
Caitlin’s eyes narrowed. “I hardly think I’ll be admiring the view.”
“Relax, no one will bother you. Wait here while I get the key. I’d prefer you be seen as little as possible.”
“But you just said–”
“I know what I said, but there’s no sense in tempting fate.”
He left the motor running, the big V-8 hummed softly as if alive. The fog had turned into a heavy mist as they neared the coast. Odds were slim that anyone would see Caitlin well enough to identify her, but he didn’t play the odds, he played the sure thing.
He walked around to the lobby and entered the main door. His trench coat dripped water onto the thick vermilion tile. The night clerk, an attractive young woman barely out of her teens, studied a textbook on oceanography. John figured her to be a student at Palo Alto. That was one of the things he liked about this motel. The night clerks were almost always students and seldom worked more than a semester before deciding the graveyard shift crimped their sex life. The ones who did stay longer only did so because they could study most of their shift. That meant they spent as little time as possible noticing who came and went, a definite plus in John’s view.
As he approached her counter, she reluctantly looked up from the book on oceanography. Her dark eyes widened as they focused on his scar. Then she met his gaze and forced a smile. Her teeth were straight and clean but had a faint stain.
John nodded to her and flipped a credit card onto the counter. “I’d like a room for two people, separate beds, overlooking the bay.”
She picked up the card and did a quick scan. He could almost read the computer screen as information scrolled down. She nodded. “Yes sir, Mr. Kurdys. How many nights will that be for?”
“Let’s start with a week and see how we like it.”
“Yes, sir.”
She punched information into the terminal and then passed the card back to him. Ducking under the counter for a moment, she came up with a small map and a plastic card. She set them both on the counter and indicated a point on the map. “You’re booked into room 187. It’s right here.”
“Thanks, I can find it.”
He checked the map, and then picked up the key.
“Have a pleasant stay.”
John tucked the credit card and the key into a pocket of his coat and nodded. “Thanks.”
He walked back to the car and got in next to Caitlin.
“How’d it go?”
“No problems.”
He put the car into reverse, backed down the length of the hotel, and stopped two doors past room 187. There were several cars parked nearby, but no one was in sight. It didn’t look like the hotel did a lot of business after midnight.
“Come on, it looks clear,” he said.
He killed the engine, opened his door, and then popped the latch on the trunk before getting out. At the rear of the ‘Cuda, John reached into the trunk and pulled out a small overnight bag. He slammed the lid shut and saw Caitlin facing him.
“What’s that?”
“An overnight bag.”
“You always carry one in your car?”
“Most times. You never can tell where the night will find you.”
Caitlin followed him to the room. He slid the plastic key into the door, and the locked clicked.
“Wait here,” John said.
Pushing the door open, John hit the lights and stepped inside. He told himself that he shouldn’t have worried about anyone being there ahead of them. He rarely came here and tonight’s trip had been decided after he went through an elaborate search for any tails. The final drive along the coast’s winding road made it easy to spot someone following. Still, there was no such thing as too much paranoia. He checked the closet, the shower and even under the beds before telling Caitlin, it was clear.
Caitlin came in and sat heavily on the bed farthest from the door.
“You’ll be all right here,” John said. “Since you don’t have any more business in town, I’ll go in later and see if I can get a lead on who’s after you.”
“Would it be all right for me to go with you?”
He shook his head. “I’d rather you stay here. You’re safe here, but if you were with me, they’d have the advantage.”
“The advantage? What do you mean?”
“They know what you look like. If they see you with me, then they’ll know me too.”
“That’s a problem?”
“I can’t sneak up on someone if he can see me coming.”
She nodded. “I guess you’re right. After all, it is your business.”
“That’s right.”
He turned away and went to the window overlooking Half Moon Bay. Drawing back the curtain, he looked out. Below the window, waves broke against rock, sending a thick saltwater spray into the fog. He leaned against the glass, blotting out the reflection of the room. The pounding of the surf cloaked Caitlin’s footsteps on the carpet. He flinched when her hand touched his shoulder.
“John, I appreciate what you’re doing for me.”
He nodded, once. Her words were echoes from the past.
“I never forgot you, John, or what you did for me.”
Did she expect a response? Twelve years had passed since the Canyon. A lot of water had passed down that Canyon in the years since. A lot of memories through his life.
“I’d almost forgotten about you,” he lied. “Hearing from you tonight was a hell of a shock, but that was then, this is now. I’ll get you through this safely and then you can go on with your life. Just like last time.”
Her arms went around his chest, and he felt her cheek against his shoulder. Part of him wanted to turn and take her in his arms, but he kept his hands firmly at his sides while he continued to stare out at the pounding surf.
“J-John,” her voice broke. “I owe you so much from before, and now I’ve shown up on your doorstep, in as much trouble as then.”
He kept his eyes on the surf.
“I’ve been thinking about seeing you ever since I learned you were out here. I ... I could have let Scott make this trip, but I thought it might give me a chance to see you again.”
“Then why didn’t you contact me before now?”
“You disappeared right after the canyon trip. I thought it was out of bitterness or something. I’m not sure. I was going to contact you tomorrow.”
He didn’t really believe her. Her answer was too convenient. Back in the Canyon, he hadn’t thought she was the lying type, but he’d been naive about many things back then. “Okay, so you were going to contact me. Now you have.”
“I wanted to see if you still had feelings for me. Back then, I was engaged. I couldn
’t get involved with you, but there’s always been some regret over my decision.”
When he spoke, he picked his words carefully. “You may not have made the right choice then, but I’ve changed too much. You don’t know me.”
She gave him a final squeeze and let go. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to think I only said this to make you help me again. I honestly had intended to look you up even before this trouble.”
“That’s all right. Either way, I’d help you. Business is business and don’t think it has anything to do with your choice twelve years ago. It’s only a matter of what I am.”
“And what are you?”
“I’m your bodyguard for now. Other than that, you don’t want to know.”
He could feel her stepping back and growing distant in more than space.
When she spoke, frost formed on the back of his neck. “I see.”
“No. I don’t think you do, but that’s all right. You’d better get some sleep. I won’t leave until you’re up.”
He watched her reflection in the window. She turned, took her purse from the bed, and went into the bathroom. Over the sound of the surf, he could hear water running. He left the window and went to the door.
He flicked off the interior lights then opened the door and looked outside. The fog was still thick, but all the cars he could see were there when they arrived. He activated his car’s silent alarm, then closed the door, latched it firmly, and threw the night bolt.
The Phoenix Egg Page 7
