“See, Tim, it’s not registering.” Grace told her partner with a knowing look. “Kimmy’s panties are wet already thinking about danger boy in there.”
“Grace!” Rachel shoved the now laughing agent against Tim, who steadied her while shaking his head in commiseration with Rachel.
“Sorry…did…did I say that out loud?”
“I need to finish my drink.” Rachel walked toward the bar. “Thanks for the report. Feel free to leave the moment you get your book back, bitch.”
“I’m having a Margarita no matter how offended your sensibilities are.” Grace yanked Tim along with her.
* * * *
Nick watched the trio’s return with some concern. Rachel was at least a few paces in front of the agents as if she were trying to outdistance them. He stood up and pulled the chair out next to him. Rachel smiled at him crookedly and sat down, taking a gulp of her drink. Nick handed the book to Grace. The waitress came over right after the Marshalls sat down.
“I’ll have a Margarita.”
“Make it two,” Tim added.
“So, Nick, where do you get your material for the novels? They’re so realistic. Diego always knows exactly what should be done at every instant and he’s so matter of fact about it. Doesn’t your agent or editor complain about him not having any real conflict?”
“Not bad, Grace.” Nick smiled, as their waitress returned with the Margaritas. “You must know a little about the publishing business. That was one of the hurdles I had to overcome. They liked the writing but complained how one dimensional it was. I explained one of the traits a world class assassin would have is the skill to foresee every possible scenario on a job. It would be idiotic to have him stumbling from one situation to another as if he were Peter Sellers in a ‘Pink Panther’ movie.”
“The details do sell the character,” Tim piped in. “When Grace loaned me Diego’s Way, I figured it would be one of those thrillers with James Bond type action. Instead, it read as if an assassin kept a diary with every gruesome detail. A third of the way through the book I’m rooting for Diego to pull off the hit, collect the money, and return to his place in Venice.”
“Yeah, and the way you describe his life in Venice…that whole other life he leads in complete obscurity,” Grace added. “I like how you handle his sex life too. It’s realistic and pretty sad. If Diego ever got too involved with anyone, his life would be in jeopardy.”
“I appreciate the feedback,” Nick said with some surprise. “Other than my agent urging me to throw contrived obstacles in Diego’s path, romance is the second most complained about aspect. I have it in there but romantic ties have to be handled with the utmost care.”
“This assassin of yours.” Rachel looked into Nick’s eyes. “Does he kill people indiscriminately? I mean…is he a real bad guy?”
“He kills people for a living,” Nick answered without turning away, noting Rachel had finished off her drink already. “Because of what he does, I think he would have to be classified as a bad guy.”
“Diego kills bad guys though,” Grace argued as if she were defending the character, having downed her Margarita already. “He takes hits where a bad guy orders a hit on another bad guy. It’s not like he’s out mowing down regular folk.”
“Whatever made you start writing a book series about an assassin?” Rachel asked.
“You –”
“Can I get you folks anything else?” The waitress had returned, having spotted empty glasses on the table during her rounds.
“I’ll have another,” Grace held up her glass.
“Same here.” Rachel handed her empty glass to the waitress.
“Maybe we should get some appetizers too,” Nick suggested, hearing a slight slur in Rachel’s words.
“No, we’ll be eating dinner soon anyway,” Rachel replied.
“I’ll have one more.” Tim drank the last of his Margarita and put his glass on the waitress’s tray.
“Since we are having dinner together after all, would you and Tim like to join us, Grace?”
“Sure, that sounds –”
“Don’t you and Tim have a party to go to?” Rachel asked innocently, while staring laser beams at Grace, who grinned and shook her head.
“No, Kimmy, Tim and I canceled out already. We’d love to have dinner with you two.”
“Oh, wonderful,” Rachel said without enthusiasm. “Nick, why did you decide on writing a series with an assassin as the main character?”
“I was always into action/adventure books and movies, even as a kid. I really liked the James Coburn movie series where he played a super suave secret agent named Flint. Have any of you seen the series? Flint was always two or three steps ahead and super slick. Using the same template, Diego formed in my head.”
“I’ll put those Coburn movies on my list of ones to see,” Grace said. “It’s neat hearing where a writer’s ideas come from first hand. We thought maybe you were basing the books on real life experience.”
“Funny you should say that.” Nick chuckled appropriately, pretending he thought Grace was making a joke instead of going on a fishing expedition. “I tell everyone who asks me that very thing. Usually I get laughs.”
The waitress arrived with their fresh drinks.
“I’m getting hungry,” Nick announced as he sensed Grace was going to continue with her questioning. “Why don’t we take our drinks into the dining area?”
No one objected, and the four were soon seated in the restaurant area. After ordering their dinners, Nick quickly warded off more questions with a stream of his own.
“How long have you all been friends?”
“About a year,” Grace answered. “Kim waitressed for us a couple times and we hit it off.”
“Are you and Ted married?”
“No, we work together,” Ted cut in before Grace could answer.
“Oh, where do you two work?” Nick launched ahead.
“We work together out of the Federal Courthouse in Sacramento,” Grace filled in quickly. “Luckily, our work doesn’t involve a commute thanks to the computer age.”
“Nice,” Nick said. “I don’t envy any of you three. I hate the heat.”
“How long are you planning to hang around Pleasanton?”
“Probably another day. I’ll make the trip up here again whenever a plot line requires it.”
“Then your assassin will be killing someone in the US this time?”
“Not that I don’t trust you implicitly, but I can’t divulge the plot of a work in progress,” Nick answered, patting Rachel’s hand.
“Of course,” Rachel nodded her head in understanding. “I don’t know much about –”
The waitress arrived with their orders. Dinner proceeded with little conversation other than small talk. Nick insisted on picking up the tab for meals and drinks.
“You had some very strong drinks,” Nick mentioned to Rachel as they left the restaurant area. “Did the food and coffee help, or would you like me to drive you home?”
“I’ll be fine.” Rachel smiled at Nick. “Thanks for the offer though. You can walk me to my car if you want.”
“I want. It was nice meeting both of you,” Nick told Grace and Tim as the four walked toward the Marriott’s front exit together. “When I get back up here, maybe we can do this again.”
“I’d like that,” Grace chirped in immediately. “Knowing a famous author is so cool.”
“You are such a groupie,” Tim needled his partner with over-enthusiastic zeal.
“Don’t let those two Margaritas you downed make your mouth write a check your ass can’t cash, Sparky,” Grace fired back, eliciting laughter as they cleared the entranceway.
Chapter Three
Hit Still On
Nick saw a glint in the darkness and jerked Rachel to the left by her arm as the glass behind them shattered. He snatched the befuddled Rachel off her feet, carrying her along until they were behind a car parked near the Marriott’s entrance. Knowing the sho
oter would not stop with one shot after missing Rachel, Nick pressed her to the ground. He then ran straight at Tim and Grace, who had dropped into shooting crouches with weapons drawn. He hit into Grace hard from the left and slightly behind, launching her against Tim as more shots passed where the two Marshalls had been.
“Get down by those cars to your right!” Nick ordered. “I’ll go back to Rachel. Watch for muzzle flashes straight out and to the left.”
“We almost shot you,” Grace gasped, but Nick was already streaking in a zigzag pattern back to Rachel.
* * * *
Tim saw the muzzle flashes from what he guessed could have been hundreds of yards away. He pulled the struggling Grace toward cars parked on the right side of the entrance. Grace had her Glock 9mm trained on Nick as she allowed Tim to guide her. When she saw Nick shield Rachel, holding her pressed up against the parked car, Grace quickly snatched the cell-phone from her purse and pressed a number on speed dial.
“Code Red…I repeat…Code Red,” Grace stated calmly into the phone, knowing her ID would be flashed automatically. “I want everything you can launch in an outgoing radius from the Marriott Hotel at 5zero5niner, Hopyard Road, in Pleasanton. We are taking sniper fire. I repeat, we are taking sniper fire.”
“If that guy’s just a writer, I’m Bill Clinton,” Tim stated after Grace ended the call. They stayed behind the cover of parked cars on their side.
“Yeah, well at least he’s on our side.” Grace motioned with badge in hand for the people approaching the shattered entranceway to get back. “He was in Delta. It’s not like you forget all that. He did just save our lives.”
“Duly noted.”
* * * *
“Are you okay?” Nick asked Rachel, turning so he could look into her eyes.
“I…I’m okay…I guess,” Rachel answered. She took stock of her physical condition, while trying to calm her heart rate down before the organ burst from its chest cavity position. “Did somebody try to shoot me?”
“Does anyone want you dead? A few of my readers have e-mailed me about pooling their money together for my demise, but –”
“How did you know?” Rachel broke in, ignoring Nick’s attempt at levity. “I’d have been dead if –”
“Hey…you two alright?” Grace called out, as the sound of sirens drew closer. “I think it’s over.”
“We’re okay. You’re probably right, but maybe we should stay where we are until some help arrives,” Nick suggested. “Hey, Grace, you civil servants are pretty well armed.”
Nick heard a stifled laugh from across the way.
“Tim and I are trying to figure out whether you paid for this just to impress Kimmy,” Grace shouted back, drawing laughter from Nick as the first approaching squad car screamed up in front of the Marriott entrance, joined by three others in short order.
Nick turned to see Rachel staring at him questioningly. He stopped laughing. “I hope you don’t think –”
“How did you know, Nick?”
“I saw a glint in the distance and decided looking like a fool would be preferable to one of us getting shot,” Nick answered truthfully, lowering his voice as the police sirens cut off. “So, I yanked you to the side. I figured if I was wrong, I could tell you I tripped.”
“That was fun.” Grace leaned down to give Rachel a hand up. “Nice moves for a writer, Nick.”
“I wasn’t always a writer.” Nick stood up away from the car, allowing Grace to handle Rachel.
Tim walked over to join them. “Maybe we should go back inside.”
“Another Long Island sounds pretty good to me,” Rachel said.
“I have no objections,” Nick added. “I’m staying here.”
“Margaritaville, here I come.” Grace guided Rachel back inside the Marriott’s entrance, walking carefully over to the side away from the glass. Tim walked slightly behind Nick and to his right.
“May I make a suggestion?” Nick stopped, when they were all inside the lobby area. “I think every person walking through any entrance here should be on camera: a good camera, not those grainy, piece of crap, security cams. Also, if it’s not being ordered yet, every person through the doors should be monitored. Anybody expressing interest in my name or room at the front desk should be investigated.”
“You don’t think the sniper’s out of the area by now?” Tim asked.
“Professional assassins have complete disregard for law enforcement and they won’t panic. A silencer was used, so pinpointing the source, even if your investigators narrow down the trajectory, is remote. It might be possible to catch one unawares. They’ll want to know if you’re going to move Kim or not, and any new acquaintances she has in or out of the area.”
“You’re beginning to worry me, Nick.” Tim exchanged concerned looks with his partner.
“I could pretend I’m stupid. I wrote a book titled –”
“No Protection,” Grace broke in excitedly. “I loved that one. Diego takes a –”
“Can I get that drink now?” Rachel interrupted.
“You go ahead, Grace. I’ll run these suggestions by the locals and see what I can come up with. I don’t want to steal your thunder, Nick, but can I speak as if these suggestions are mine?”
“If you want any chance of them getting followed, you’d better.”
Tim nodded with a smile and left. Grace, Rachel, and Nick took seats again at the same table Nick had reserved earlier. Grace and Rachel ordered their drinks but Nick ordered Iced Tea.
“Not drinking with us, huh partner?”
“Nothing personal, Grace, but I’m not your partner, and I have a sneaking hunch I might end up answering questions all night long in front of a spotlight.”
Grace laughed. “Fair enough.”
The waitress brought over their drinks, including the extra Margarita Grace ordered for Tim.
“You don’t really think he had anything to do with this, do you?” Rachel asked Grace, after gulping a quarter of her drink.
“I’ll have to get back to you on that one, right Nick?”
“She’ll have to get back to you on that, Kim.” Nick relayed the answer as if he were an interpreter.
“I’m sorry I mixed you up in this –”
“Kimmy!” Grace cut her off. “Slow down on the booze, girl.”
Tim arrived at their table a moment later. He took a grateful sip of his Margarita. “They like the suggestions, mostly because they don’t have William Petersen and the CSI Las Vegas cast here to do all those magic tricks like on TV. Did I miss anything? You were saying something about one of Nick’s books?”
“Diego takes a job involving this murderous scumbag who had decided to turn on the mob in exchange for witness protection and a new life. He buys his way in at twenty-five grand a pop, picking people he can get info from in the justice department until he locates the scumbag.”
“Did he shoot him from long range?” Rachel leaned forward uneasily.
“Nope.” Grace shook her head. “Diego blew the crap out of him with a car bomb. The interesting part of the book is how every one of the people who tipped Diego off ended up behind bars but they couldn’t finger Diego. Nick here knows a lot about the Witness Protection Program, don’t you, Nick?”
“Six months of intense research went into that one,” Nick admitted, remembering the hit on Paulo Cortesa. He had scared Cortesa into fleeing the program to Mexico, by planting notes where only Cortesa could find them. “I wrote the whole book first and filled in the details concerning the US Marshalls’ service afterward.”
“You’re just dying to ask us, aren’t you, Nick?” Grace kidded him.
“I’m a writer. I have an imagination and I can add two plus two. No, I don’t care to know anything more than I do right now. If I could put Pandora back in the box, I would have eaten my meals at Denny’s instead of Applebee’s. That’s all you’re gettin’ out of me, Coppers.”
Even Rachel laughed this time.
* * * *
&nb
sp; “Hello, Nick.” Grace waved animatedly as she walked into the interrogation room with Tim behind her. “Sorry about all this.”
“I’m okay with it. I didn’t figure you’d let me toddle along as if I weren’t there. The Detectives have been very nice. The good cop was good and the bad cop was good. Is it time for you two to take a shift? How’s Kim doing?”
“Kim’s getting some sleep at a safe house until we figure this out. You’re a little too calm in interrogation, Nick.” Grace raised her hand in warning as Nick started to speak. “Don’t give me that ‘I wrote a book on it’ nonsense either. I know you did.”
“They’ve been going over my military record since you left me off here last night. You know I was in Delta. We do train for anything, including interrogation.”
“We told them, Nick.” Tim sat down opposite Nick. He placed a cup of coffee in front of him. “We told them you saved Kim and us.”
“We told them we know right where to get you.” Grace sat next to Nick, a big smile on her face. “Want to hear what finally got through to them?”
“Will it get me out of here?”
“They caught him. It was like you wrote the scene. He waited until five in the morning, when everything was quiet, and approached the desk dressed like a business executive. When he asked if you were still checked in, our guy at the desk hit the switch and sniper Sam was surrounded – false ID, false documents, false passport, the whole smear. The bad news is he picked you as his accomplice.”
Nick burst into laughter, nearly choking on his coffee, with Tim and Grace joining in.
“I told them we were acting on your suggestions,” Tim informed him after many moments. “They believe you had nothing to do with the hit – and it was a hit.”
“Interpol lit up like a Christmas tree when we put out the guy’s picture and fingerprints,” Grace added. “We can’t tell you anymore about him, but you’re off the hook.”
“Well, in that case.” Nick stood up “Can I go home now? I’m thinking maybe I have enough Pleasanton material after all.”
“Kim would like to see you,” Grace said.
Cold Blooded Page 3
