“Do you want me to call the police?”
Elvis spoke and I realized I was still leaning back against him in sort of an intimate way. Embarrassed, I sat up and scooted over.
“I don’t think so. I’m not sure what I’d say. I’m okay. Maybe the wine just didn’t agree with me. After all, I’d already had a glass before I met him.” Jeez, now I sounded like a lush. “I don’t normally drink. Much.”
“Okay.”
Then I remembered. “Hey, where’s his pouch?”
Basia pointed to a small round table. I stood, took a minute to make sure I was steady, and retrieved the pouch. I sat on the floor next to Elvis and dumped the contents out in front of me.
Elvis whistled. “How much is there?”
Ten stacks of neatly bound hundred-dollar bills lay on the floor. “If we estimate fifty one-hundred-dollar bills in each stack, then we are talking fifty thousand dollars.”
Basia came over to stand behind me. “What kind of a nut job carries around fifty thousand dollars in a purse?”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not a purse. It’s a pouch. But I don’t know the answer to your question.”
Elvis picked up a stack, slid a bill out of the envelope and held it up to the light. “I’m not an expert, but it looks genuine.”
“He’s going to want it back.” Basia ran her fingers through her hair. “This is not good. If he thinks you stole his money, he’s going to go completely off the deep end.”
“I didn’t steal it. He left it behind. If I knew where to find him, I’d give it back.”
“Mark my words, he’ll find you.”
Elvis held up a hand. “No need to panic. This all could be just a misunderstanding.” He slid the bill back into the stack, put the stacks back in the pouch and zipped it up. “Here.” He handed it to me. “You can give it to him the next time you see him.”
I nodded. “Elvis is right. I’m okay. He knows I didn’t steal it. The money is safe with us, and if I see him, I’ll just hand it back to him. If not, I’ll figure out a way to make sure it’s returned.”
Xavier stretched his legs out in front of him and placed them on the coffee table. “Why are his fingers broken?”
Basia started to speak when I interrupted. “Ah, it’s a really long and boring story. Totally not interesting. We’ve got to get going, right, Basia?”
Elvis stood. “We didn’t have anything planned for tonight, so you’re welcome to hang at our place. Maybe we can order a movie or something.”
Basia glanced at me and shrugged. “It’s okay with me if you’re feeling up to it, Lexi.”
“Sure. I guess.”
We ordered ice cream sundaes from room service and watched the entire Matrix trilogy. When it was over, Basia was sound asleep on the couch with Xavier sitting nearby. I caught him watching her sleep, but it didn’t surprise me since Basia is quite pretty and I’d gotten used to guys eyeing her.
Elvis and I had grabbed pillows and were lying on the floor on our stomachs. I felt pretty good, which was unusual since I’d expected some kind of residual hangover or aftereffects of the wine or drug. Apparently, I had neither.
I rolled over on my back. “You know, I don’t think Trinity should have died.”
“She saved the day and perhaps the entire human race from rogue artificial intelligence.”
“I thought Neo did that.”
“They were a team. They needed each other to succeed. Neo wouldn’t have made it without her.”
“True.” I sat up. “Well, guess we’d better be going. What time is it?”
“Three-twenty.”
“We seem to be making a late night habit of this.”
“I noticed. Sure you don’t want to crash here?” He pointed at Basia. “My limit for carrying a woman is one per day.”
“She does look pretty zonked.”
“You can take my bed. I’ll sleep out here.”
“No way. I’m good for the other couch.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Thanks anyway, Elvis.”
“No problem.” He jerked his head at Xavier, who seemed reluctant to leave Basia, and they disappeared into opposite rooms. After a minute, Elvis came back with some extra blankets and pillows. He draped one over Basia and then made up a little bed for me on the couch.
I took off my watch and put it on the table. “You’re kind of good at this domestic stuff.”
“Not really. You want to borrow a shirt to sleep in?”
“Nah. I don’t think your shirt would fit.” My cheeks heated. “Ah, I’ll just sleep in my clothes. But if it’s okay with you, I’ll keep the sweater for tonight. I’m still feeling a bit cold. Thanks.”
“Well, good night, Lexi.”
“Good night, Elvis. Hey, do you think we can squeeze in some more Quake tomorrow?”
“Think we could find a way.”
“Excellent.”
I didn’t remember putting my head on the pillow, but the next thing I knew sunlight streamed in from the open balcony door. I blinked, disoriented, and then remembered where we were. The Zimmerman suite.
I could hear the waves crashing against the beach and the screech of seagulls. I sat up, stretching. Basia was still asleep on the other couch, looking as pretty as ever. I wondered how some girls could do that without even trying. Another mystery of the universe, I guess.
I strolled out to the balcony, surprised to see Elvis sitting there at a small table with a laptop. He put the top down when he saw me, lifting a mug. “Want some coffee?”
I put a hand to my hair, realizing it was tangled like a rat’s nest. Oh, well, we are who we are. “Sure. Did you sleep at all?”
He shrugged and reached over to a carafe, pouring some coffee in a mug for me. “Not much. Sometimes it’s hard for me to fall asleep when I have a lot on my mind. You okay?”
“Yeah, thanks.” I sat and took the coffee, pouring in some milk and two spoons of sugar. “I’m the same way. Except for some unfathomable reason, I conked out right away last night. Is Xavier still asleep?”
“No. He went out for a walk. He should be back soon. I should tell you, he has a thing for Basia.”
I sighed, taking a sip. “Every guy has a thing for Basia. That’s who she is.”
“She seems nice.”
“She is nice, although often annoyingly perky and way too interested in my non-life. But she’s the best friend I’ve ever had and I’m lucky for it.”
“We could all use a friend like that.”
“You know, I hear you two talking about me. And it’s sweet.”
Basia came out onto the balcony looking as if she’d just stepped from a spa treatment. It amazed me how she could appear so pulled together after a night on the couch in her clothes.
She yawned. “Just tell me there is still coffee left in there.” Elvis motioned her to a chair, poured her some. She took a sip and sighed. “How are you feeling, Lexi?”
“Strangely enough, I feel great. No bizarre aftereffects of the weird incident last night.”
“Well, I certainly hope that today is a better day than yesterday. This is not how I pictured our vacation.”
“So, are you girls going to the beach today?” Xavier entered the suite carrying a box full of bagels and another carafe of coffee.
Basia smiled. “Bagels? You’re the best, Xavier.”
He looked so ridiculously pleased that I almost felt sorry for him. Basia was a free spirit when it came to guys, and if Xavier had set his sights on her, he was likely headed for Hurtsville. Then I’d feel responsible for having brought them together by ripping the pants off his twin brother. Neither twin would ever speak to me again and I’d be disgraced. Jeez, this whole relationship thing was so complicated. Why people willingly
engaged in this kind of interaction on a regular basis just baffled me.
“Yes, we’re going to the beach today.” Basia reached into the box and pulled out a bagel. “Lexi got a new swimsuit.”
I choked on my coffee and Elvis reached over and swatted me on the back.
Xavier handed Basia a knife and she smeared some cream cheese on the bagel. “After yesterday, I’m counting on a quiet, relaxing day.”
“Elvis and I are going to the beach today too,” Xavier said, choosing a bagel of his own. “Maybe we could share a blanket or something.”
I really didn’t want anyone I knew to see me in the new bathing suit. Actually, I didn’t want anyone at all to see me in it, but I wasn’t sure how to extract myself from her plans. After all, we were at the beach on a beach vacation. Bathing suits were usually involved.
I decided to give extraction a shot anyway. “Um, Elvis and I thought we might play some Quake today.”
Basia glared at me. “Not during the day, you don’t. Remember, sunshine and fresh air.”
I sighed. “Okay.”
Elvis tapped my coffee mug with his. “But we’re on for later. Okay? Guess it couldn’t hurt to get a bit of sun.”
“Guess not.”
We agreed to meet at the beach at noon. As we were leaving, I started to take off the sweater but realized I still felt a bit cold. Elvis must have noticed because he insisted I keep it on.
We walked back to the hotel while Basia reminisced about the night. “Well, we spent the night with a couple of geeks and it wasn’t all that bad.”
“You do realize I’m insulted by that.”
“No, you’re not. I always say that to you.”
She had a point. “Well, I told you geeks could be fun.”
She laughed as we strolled up to our door. I fumbled in my jeans pocket for the keycard and had just pulled it out when a guy in a dark T-shirt and jeans stepped out from the shadows. Dark sunglasses sat on his nose and his muscled arms were crossed against his chest. He scared the beejeebies out of us and we both jumped.
“Lexi Carmichael?” he said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Chapter Five
Basia and I took a step back against the wall.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Jason Simmons. I’d like you to come with me, please.”
Before I could say anything more, Basia threw her cup of coffee at the guy. It hit him midchest, coffee exploding across his T-shirt and the cup falling to the ground.
“Run,” she shouted at me.
I froze to the spot, trying to decide what shocked me more. Basia taking on a six-foot muscle guy with her paper coffee cup or the fact that he hadn’t even flinched when it hit him. He just stood there as impassive as a rock, coffee dripping off his forearms and onto his dark shoes.
“I need to talk to you.”
Basia wasn’t finished with her bluster. “Back off, buddy.” She shook her finger at him as if that would cause him to run away, screaming like a girl. “Look, we’ve had enough of weirdoes following us around. Beat it. We’re on a freaking vacation.”
The guy kept staring at me. “You will need to come with me, Miss Carmichael.”
He reached behind him and Basia screamed. Two doors down an old man stuck his head out into the hallway.
“Shut up already. I’m trying to watch my show.” He slammed the door shut.
The guy pulled out a wallet and flipped it open. “Calm down, please. I’m Jason Simmons, U.S. Secret Service. I just want to talk to you.”
I took the wallet and studied the badge. Basia peered over my shoulder. “Oh. My God. You’re a federal agent? I just assaulted a federal agent? How was I supposed to know? You aren’t dressed like a federal agent. Except for the sunglasses.”
I handed it back. “Look, Basia is right. We’ve had a bad day. We’ll only go somewhere public with you, okay? For all we know that badge could be a forgery.”
“Do you have reason to mistrust me, Miss Carmichael?”
“Well, for starters, you know my name and I’ve never seen you before.”
He pushed the sunglasses to the top of his head. He had nice brown eyes. “The badge is not a forgery.”
“Then how do you know my name?”
He put the badge in his back pocket. “I’ll tell you. But let’s go somewhere we can talk. It can be the lobby, if you’d like. Lots of people there.”
I studied him for a long moment. He had big biceps, strong legs and would likely catch me if I made a run for it. Mathematically, my odds for escape were in the negative. Besides, I couldn’t just leave Basia behind. “Okay.”
Basia snatched the keycard from my hand. “Wait. Just in case he’s legit, let me get some tissues and wipe that up. You do realize I only acted in self-defense, right?”
She dashed into the room and came back holding a wad of toilet paper. “Couldn’t find the tissues.” She dabbed at his shirt. “There, hopefully this will all come off, Mr. Simmons.”
He grabbed her wrist, stilling it. “It’s okay, Miss Kowalski. I’m fine. Let’s go.” He turned and walked to the stairway.
“He knows my name too,” Basia whispered.
We trailed behind him and when we got to the lobby, he led us to a table with a glass top and a few rattan chairs. The desk clerk didn’t pay us any attention, although the bellboy smiled at Basia before disappearing outside.
Agent Simmons pulled out a smartphone and punched some buttons on it. Then he flipped it sideways and slid it across the table to me.
“Do you know this man?”
I looked down at the screen. It was Broken-Finger Guy. Basia gasped beside me.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“How long have you known him?”
“About two days, maybe less.”
“You know who he is?”
“Not really.”
“Clarify, please.”
“I mean, I helped him fix his laptop and then smashed his fingers in it. Broke two of them. When I met him the next day at the beach, he said he needed to talk to me about something important, so I met him at the bar. We had this weird conversation and he left. Why is the Secret Service interested in him?”
“I’ll ask the questions, Miss Carmichael. Do you know his name?”
“No.”
“So you met a man three times and you don’t even know his name?”
“Well, it wasn’t like I was dating him or anything.”
Basia snorted and he looked over at her. “Did you interact with him too, Miss Kowalski?”
“Just from a distance. I gave him my evil eye and would have smashed him with my water glass if he tried anything on Lexi.”
He looked puzzled, but took his phone back. “You mean in the course of those three meetings he never told you his name?”
I shook my head. “No. I know that seems strange, but somehow it just didn’t come up in conversation.”
“Conversation skills aren’t her strong suit,” Basia offered.
“Thanks, Dr. Phil.”
Agent Simmons cleared his throat. “His name is Humphrey Nickelward. I’m going to need to know everything you talked about with him. Every detail you can remember.”
Basia leaned forward. “Seriously, his name is Humphrey Nickelward? I mean that’s so…geeky.”
“Basia.” I gave her my cease-and-desist look. She frowned and sat back, crossing her legs, tapping one of them against the floor in a nervous rhythm.
Agent Simmons adjusted something on his phone and I saw he’d pulled up a notepad app. He opened a blank sheet, his fingers primed and ready for typing.
“You work for the NSA, is that correct, Miss Carmichael?”
“I will neither confirm nor deny that
.”
“My mistake. Let’s establish only then that you work for the U.S. federal government.”
“I think that’s a safe assumption.”
“Can you tell me how you met Dr. Nickelward?”
I gave him the rundown and he typed some notes, interrupting me only when I told him the guy refused an ambulance to have his fingers checked out.
“But you saw him with bandaged fingers the next day.”
“Yes. I have no idea if he actually went to the hospital or not. He said two of them were broken.”
“All right.”
I kept talking and he typed furiously, asking several more specific questions when I got to the part where we talked about his research. When I finished, Agent Simmons put down the phone.
“So, he left the bar without saying anything else?”
“No. Just that I held his life in my hands.”
“Why did he say that?”
“I have no clue. He completely wigged out.”
“Are you sure when you looked at his computer, you don’t remember the names of any of his files?”
“I wasn’t looking at his files. I just helped him restart the computer.”
“Do you know why his computer froze?”
“He was running Windows. Need I say more?”
“Actually, no. So, Miss Carmichael, at any time did Dr. Nickelward ask you to keep anything safe for him?”
“No.”
“Give you something as a present or a gift?”
“No.”
“He just left without arranging to meet you again or discussing his work any further?”
“Yes.”
Basia tapped her foot against the floor. “Except he forgot his purse.”
“Pouch.” I realized I still had it, my hands resting atop it on the table. “Oh, I forgot. This is his.” I pushed it at him.
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