“I think we need to get John looked at,” Gus said. “Kabong is nuts for those birds.”
“He’s damn entertaining though,” Dan replied. “I think the goofy birds recognize him now. I only believe he’s in denial about them being flying rats. Good coffee this morning, Nick.”
“That’s because Rachel brought the fine china down to serve it in. There is a difference.” Nick fingered Cassie’s private number. She answered on the second ring.
“Nick! Oh my God, I love ‘Assassin’s Folly’. Linda called me. She’s sending you a galley with very few changes. They want to publish it in the next couple weeks. They need a hit, so they’ve cranked up the marketing barrage already with hints in all the major outlets. Linda doesn’t want anything delaying the release. She thinks springing it out in the public by surprise will make a real splash, instead of the usual months of teasing crap. Best of all, not one word about plot changes.”
“That’s great, Cass. Listen, what kind of contacts do you have in a place like Olympia, Washington? I know they have a big Barnes and Noble bookstore there. I have another bit of personal business in the same area, and I thought doing a book signing would be great since ‘Assassin’s Folly’ is coming out.”
“Holy shit, Batman! Let me call Linda. Maybe she could do a rush printing of a couple thousand books, and we could do a real extravaganza there with the first raw print run. I’ll call you right back!”
“I…” Nick began, but realized his agent had hung up on him. “I know it’s wrong, but load me up with one, Gus.”
Gus and John, who had returned from his birdman duties, grinned at each other, and then shrugged in unison. Dan laughed.
“I think you’re a little late to the feed, Muerto,” Dan explained. “I believe Heckle and Jeckle imbibed your share of whatever might have originally been saved for you.”
“Just as well.” Nick watched Rachel trailing Jean and Deke near the shoreline. He sipped his un-Irish coffee wondering not for the first time how long his string of blessings would last. Being a cynical psychopathic killer, Nick believed it would end soon. Glancing at his friends, he hoped it would be just him. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, deciding it was never a good thing to develop a conscience.
“Muerto… you have visitors.” Gus nudged Nick out of his reverie.
Nick glanced toward the small line of beach parking places in the dirt. US Marshals Tim Reinhold and Grace Stanwick plodded gingerly down into the beach sand toward them. Not so long ago, they handled Rachel, Jean, and Deke in the witness protection program. During the cross-country journey in which Nick freed his chosen family from needing witness protection, Grace and Tim became aware Nick was one of the deadliest assassins in the world. Since then, with Nick’s rogue assassin days behind him, he had consulted on some deadly cases, helping them rise in the Marshal’s Service. Thanks to his intervention on Tim and Grace’s behalf in the cases leading all the way to the Attorney General’s Office, official ties with the Marshal’s service, FBI, as well as the NSA and CIA were now part of his life. Nick also the had full backing of the new CIA Director, Paul Gilbrech, because of his willingness to be a secret enforcement arm on United States soil. Nick smiled, cursing himself inwardly for the jinx he instigated to bring the Marshals for a visit.
“Well, well, well! Look Tim, we have them all together, including their old fossil recruit,” Grace declared, arms folded over chest, complete with shaking head. “Do we have enough sets of cuffs for all of them?”
“Who ordered the set of government stooges for breakfast,” Nick asked, glancing at his friends. “It wasn’t you, was it, fossil?”
“No way,” Dan answered. “Damn, Timmy, I would have figured you’d have shot this foul mouthed dowager by now in self-defense before she spews something that will get you killed. Didn’t you say Grace Slick’s getting a cameo in the new book as an old whore with gout, Hemingway?”
“It’s my next scene,” Nick replied to much amusement at Dan’s retort.
“Dowager? Really?” Grace smacked her partner in the back of the head. “That’s enough enjoyment out of you, Reinhold. Can we talk to you in private, Nick? Paul let us in on a particular plan being formulated in the great Northwest, because we requested your help through him a couple weeks back. You can fill in your social circle if it interests you.”
“Damn, Paul piggybacked a Marshal’s gig on you, Nick,” Gus said. “At least he’s allowing right of first refusal.”
Nick handed Dan his coffee cup. He imitated ‘The Terminator’. “I’ll be back.” While following the two Marshals to their vehicle, Nick smiled, noting something beyond the scope of less enlightened observers. He entered the rear of their all black SUV. Tim slipped into the driver’s seat, while Grace sat crosswise to glare with a grin at Nick after shutting the door.
“You two are finally sleeping together.” Nick watched the startled look springboard across Grace’s features with amusement. She started to stammer out denials, but Nick waved her off. “Too late, Grace Slick, what the hell do I care? Spit out what my boss allowed you to add to my journey north. Yes, I know you and Tim have jurisdiction over the entire west coast sector. Is someone breathing down your necks over at the DOJ?”
“How… oh, the hell with it. Yes, we’ve been working a damn serial killer case in the Seattle area in conjunction with the FBI’s special branch, led by a woman named Kaitlin Anderson. She thinks she’s the second coming of a real life ‘Criminal Minds’ TV show character. There’s a guy in Seattle, maiming young prostitutes as if he were ‘Jack the Ripper’. He’s the TV show wannabe’s worst nightmare: random slayings, random time intervals, random ages, random appearances, and random races – nine victims so far, not counting the three pimps they can’t connect for sure.”
“I read about him. ‘The Seattle Ripper’, the press calls the killer. On the positive side, I heard prostitution is down,” Nick commented with the express purpose of getting a rise out of Grace. He was not disappointed.
“That is fucked up, you psychopathic-”
“Grace!” Tim shook his head at his partner. “Nick’s messing with your head. Stay on point.”
“Heh… heh. Okay, so we have a slicer and dicer carving the prostitute population, while an FBI special branch bimbo condescendingly blames you and Tim because she’s locked into a serial killer motif in one of her text books.”
Tim glanced back. “Exactly. Grace can’t get her to consider any other approach, but the FBI formula zombies are attacking us, claiming we’re shackling their investigation with incompetence. We’ve only been allowed in support, and belittled every step of the way. The son-of-a-bitch hacked a fourteen year old runaway into pieces a couple days ago after a two week layoff.”
“The AG called us on a conference call,” Grace admitted. “This has gone nationwide, Nick. In another few weeks, this bastard will be doing interviews with CNN about policing agency complete helplessness. The AG asked for you. He says name your price. If you can bring the asshole in alive as if it were a law enforcement task force effort, he’ll double your asking price. Bottom line is he wants this killer stopped, by any means necessary.”
Nick shrugged, because he had something in mind for this serial killer, and it had nothing to do with giving out credit to law enforcement. He stayed silent as Grace’s mouth went to full torque. Her fists clenched in absolute rage as what Nick wanted blasted into her head. Tim grabbed her hand.
“Don’t Grace. Paul said Nick would insist on it. At least he trusted us with the truth. We want to stop this perverted psychopath. We can’t be choosy about the method.”
“Damn it, Nick! Couldn’t we do this by the book with your insights? You could even get official credit with Nick McCarty, bestselling New York Times author, consults with the FBI and the US Marshal’s Service to bring a murdering psychopath to justice.”
“Heh…heh.”
“Get the hell out of our vehicle!” Grace turned to sit rigidly in her seat. “I’ll ne
ed a few moments before Tim and I say hello to Rachel and Jean. I have to erase your presence from my memory banks. Mr. Gilbrech warned us you’d pull this crap! There is no way in hell we’re letting you play out your comic book fantasies on this operation, so get your fucking El Muerto ass out of my backseat!”
“Nice seeing you two.” Nick exited the vehicle, barely containing his laughter, knowing Paul had shared his El Muerto identity with the marshals. He had reached down deep for his inner uncaring psychopath, and felt relieved when his cold blooded killer surfaced. “Have a nice day, kids.”
Nick returned to his chair with a look of satisfaction that elicited worried looks from his partner, Gus.
“Uh oh. What did you do Muerto?”
“I think I separated us from a cluster fuck of biblical proportions, Payaso.”
“Oh.” Gus settled into his beach chair. “It’s good you’ve grown a set, and learned how to say no. I’m sure Rachel and Jean will be thankful. I know I am.”
“I am confused.”
“And I, John.” Dan leaned forward in his small beach chair, pausing as he saw Tim and Grace walk down to the shoreline before meeting with Rachel and Jean in a happy reunion. “Care to share, Muerto?”
Nick explained the parameters, complete with comical insights about Tim and Grace sharing not only a vehicle, but also a bed. He outlined the Marshals’ problem then in detail. “I like this for our secret identities.”
“He butchered a fourteen year old girl, Muerto. Is that some kind of comic book collateral damage?”
The Terminator surfaced in spite of the silence, the ocean, and his beloved adopted family nearby. “Listen to me carefully, Dan. I’m not a robot someone launches like a weather probe. I do things within a multitude of unknown circumstances. I pick and choose the way and the how I do it. Don’t confuse me with a social worker or a government incompetent, who can spout all the politically correct jargon, but get nothing done. Mark what I say now. Timmy, and Grace Slick will take what I said back to the Attorney General. That’s when we find out how desperate they are to get this ‘Ripper’. If they decide they want this prick at all cost, I’ll gladly go collect him… as El Muerto. Payaso and Kabong follow my lead. Maybe this would be a good time for you to shed us as a business entity, Dan. We’ll all be friends no matter what you decide. I will cover anything to do with your living costs as separation pay. Hell… the unholy trio will pick up the morning bar tab, right guys?”
John reached out to grasp Dan’s hand. “I am always your friend. I admit I have done violence on a number of levels, and in a number of circumstances. With Nick, I know I am on the right side of what I believe. We can still be friends, Geezer.”
“I don’t do touchy-feely, Dan,” Gus said. “I respect any decision you make. Because of circumstances beyond even your combat and real life experiences, Nick is my brother. I trust him beyond any outside source. That will never change. This is a good point for you. Now’s the time to bail. No matter what though, we don’t kill our own. You can walk away clean.”
“Amen to that,” Nick said. “We’re your friends forever. I can envision how you feel. In a case with a child killing asshole attached, there is a temptation to spread the cape, and goose Superman in the ass. Unfortunately, we have our own kryptonite to deal with. I believe Tim and Grace to be fine upstanding, and trustworthy human beings. The people they work for and control this country… not so much. If lies were nickels, I would have been smashed flatter than the Road Runner under a cartoon boulder. Here they come, family… and the government ding dongs. Think about it, Dan. There’s no hurry.”
Nick stood as Deke reached him, exuberant and sandy from tail to snout. “Oh hell, Deke. I’m going to spend the rest of Sunday morning separating you from the beach.”
“We’ll be talkin’ at you, Nick,” Grace said on the way by.
Tim shook hands with Nick. “Good to see you, Nick. We need you on this, but I believe you’re right for holding out. Even Grace and I don’t know what the hell the FBI’s end game is on this. If they could have thrown us under the bus already, we’d be wearing tire tread marks from one end to the other.”
“Watch your six, Timmy. It ain’t over yet.”
“Understood.”
Jean and Rachel joined Nick then, both wearing the suspicious masks of past occurrences. “Okay, what have you done, Muerto?”
“Nothing, Dear. In this case of the Grace and Timmy show, it’s what I refused to do. All will become clearer. It’s a process.”
“Grace was really pissed, Dad.”
“Sometimes we have expectations that can’t be met, Dagger. Grace found herself wishing for candy and the Easter Bunny, but instead her Easter basket was filled with Brussel sprouts and canned spinach. You look tired Hon. Why don’t you sit down in my chair, and I’ll jog to the house with Deke, spray the bugger off, and come back with the car?”
Rachel grasped Nick’s hand, leaning in to kiss him. “Thanks for being a mind reader. I don’t know how you pluck those wishes out of my head, but I do appreciate it. Can you sprint uphill too? I have to pee.”
“On it. Come Deke, I’ll race you to the house. Maybe you can shake off half the sand on the way.”
* * *
Nicks iPhone dinged. He saw it was Cassie finally calling back. Gus, John, Dan, and Deke at his feet decided to stay with him in their favorite hangout on the deck. Nick wrote, while his three companions plotted out the areas in Washington, they would be either baiting serial killers or infiltrating a terrorist compound. The three worked from new laptops, networked together. The only sound in the last couple hours had been Dan cursing his less nimble computer savvy. Nick answered.
“Hey, Cass. Tough time getting a gig in Olympia?”
“I need two weeks, Nick. Please! Our publishing friend, Linda will move heaven and earth to get a print run to the bookstore in that time frame. She’s already launched it. The only thing she requests is a signing in Seattle, and possibly a few signings at small shops in each area. She wants to do a print run of five thousand. Linda told me they’ll work a deal with the printer so these will be numbered copies of a much larger first edition printing.”
“That’s nice marketing, Cass. Sure, two weeks will be fine. If I have to leave earlier than that, I’ll hang around for whatever you can arrange. Gus will be with me, so we should be able to sell a bunch of ‘Caribbean Contract’ too.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ve already talked to the store in Olympia. He’s ordering in more of your complete line of novels. We’re doing a consignment deal with ‘Assassin’s Folly’ because of the numbers. How’s the new novel coming? Did you title it yet?”
“I’m considering ‘Dark Interlude’, and yeah, it’s coming along great. My assassin Diego opens himself up to a relationship with one of his marks, a woman named Fatima.”
“I’m hooked already! Send me the first twenty thousand when you get there.”
“I passed that yesterday. I’ll e-mail it later today in Kindle form.”
“What’s gotten into you? You’re writing at a Nora Roberts’ pace.”
Nick enjoyed that comparison for a moment. “No, I’m not even close to ‘La Nora’, but I am having more fun lately with the writing. Are you making the trip out this time?”
“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it. We’ll hit all the sites. I hope you’re bringing Rachel and Jean along with Gus.”
“Yep, and Deke the dog. Rachel thinks she’s going to be early delivering Quinn, so this trip may be more exciting than it should be.”
“I’ll warn the pediatric wing around every major signing,” Cassie said. “This signing excursion will absolutely put you into the upper stratosphere, Nick. I’ll have to convince you on a really big stay in the heartland next.”
Nick smiled, thinking about the Detroit area, where the Middle Eastern population had skyrocketed. “The heartland is a neglected area, Cass. We’ll talk about it.”
On a side note, you really took th
at ‘Big Texas Son’ book killer off the radar. He hasn’t checked in with a book killing in quite a while. I never thought it was a good idea to engage those bastards on a personal basis, but you proved me wrong.”
The fact he had done much more to the ‘Book Killer’ Big Texas Son than reply to his book killing reviews brought another smile of satisfaction to a real killer’s mouth. “Yeah, we have to confront them, Cass. I think authors who hide away, or worse, get devastated by these people with hidden agendas is the wrong formula. If we can keep a sense of humor, and remember that most of these ‘Book Killers’ haven’t even read what they’re killing in the Amazon marketplace, the key is common sense confrontation. For instance, why do a one star hit piece on the latest novel in a long selling series, but offer no specifics, or even hint the ‘killer’ had even read the ‘Look Inside’ feature on Amazon. I promise never to lose my sense of humor when confronting them, but I will have my say.”
“There’s no question you’ve handled legitimate criticism very well, especially repeated hits on your first novel. Reminding the detractors that everything they were turned off about in the first novel was illustrated in the preview feature, even helped with the first novel in your series. It’s always been policy not to confront readers.”
“I agree with the policy if an author can’t confront with anything but whiney crap, or ‘how dare you question my writing’ episodes. Anyway, let’s get this new signing endeavor in the works in any time frame you can manage. I’ll await your confirmation from Linda.”
Bloody Shadows Page 4
