“The fun part starts when we get the flash drives and they launch an all-out manhunt for our asses in a spiraling search from ground zero out across the states. They’ll be desperate. The kid gloves will be off. That’s where our friends Grace and Tim come in. We need to pass off the drives to someone not on the payroll of this syndicate, who can get them high up the ladder. We’ll have copies of the drives, because they won’t want to deal with some of the folks who’ll just need killin’.”
“This will be a test of Grace and Tim too… won’t it?”
“I’m afraid so. There’s so much money loose on this deal, we can’t afford to trust anyone. I’d also hate to get those two killed.”
“They were the only reason I’m not stark raving mad. Doing a disappearing act is not as much fun as it sounds. I do not want to keep on the run with my daughter for the rest of our lives. I sure envisioned a different kind of day after our…ah -”
“Interlude?” Nick finished for her. “If I told you how many times our interlude flashed into my mind, even while we were all in danger, you’d probably promote me back to full psycho.”
“You Satyr!” Rachel leaped up out of the lounge chair, pointing at him. “I’d forgotten all about when Joe made us strip. You were popping right out of your underwear.”
“What can I say?” He shrugged. “Sometimes my priorities get a bit skewed at inappropriate moments. While you’re up, Sister Mary Rachel, get me another.”
Rachel giggled. She grabbed Nick’s proffered mug on her way inside. When she returned, she wore only a black thong. She handed him the mug over his shoulder. When he glanced back, he nearly ended up wearing the beer.
“I have a kink in my neck. Would you mind working it out for me like you did the other day?” Rachel sipped from her mug while turning the chair she had been sitting in around in front of Nick. She sat down on it with her backside perched out over the edge, leaning with her chin over the chair back.”
Nick set the now half-empty mug down near Deke, who lapped up the remainder without hesitation. Leaning forward, Nick splayed out the fingers of each hand near Rachel’s temples and his thumbs at the base of her skull. By rotating his thumbs into the jumble of nerves, he had her groaning audibly in under a minute. Slowly, he worked every inch of her spine, his thumbs methodically moving over and against her spinal column, while his fingers probed the shoulder area before trailing down with feathery caresses in tandem with his thumbs. With more freedom than the day before, he massaged the base of her spine with powerful upward pressure while gripping his fingers into her hip area. Rachel cried out, shuddering as she staggered forward, chair in hands, out of Nick’s grip. She spun around, breathing heavily, having tossed the chair aside.
“No fair,” she whispered, grabbing his hand and pulling at him. “Let’s go.”
“I need a shower.”
“Later!”
“How come you get up so early, Nick?” Jean asked, rubbing her eyes at the entryway into the kitchen, dressed in pajamas, robe, and slippers.
“About five to six hours is about all the sleep I care to have.” Nick looked up from his notebook computer, where the character Diego had just killed the hierarchy of a gang in East Los Angeles with a car bomb. “How are you feeling this morning, Danger Girl? You had a rough time yesterday.”
“Danger Girl,” Jean repeated, giggling as she walked over to pet the ever-present Deke, who rolled over for a belly rub. “I’m okay. That guy didn’t beat us up or anything. He told us to stay quiet or he would beat us up. I guess he’ll be pretty quiet himself now, huh?”
“That’s a very grim way of speaking, DG.” Nick saved his file and closed the notebook.
“Oh, right, we’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead.” Jean grinned up at Nick, who immediately dropped his head into his hands.
“Keep it up, keep it up.” Nick covered his face in feigned exasperation. “It won’t be funny when you say things like that at the worst possible moment by mistake.”
“Okay.” Jean sighed, plunking down in the seat next to him. “I’ll be more careful. Hey, do you know how to make pancakes?”
“Absolutely.” He moved to the counter nearest the stove. He took pancake mix out of the cupboard along with a four cup mixing bowl. After collecting an egg and milk from the refrigerator, he gestured Jean over. “C’mon, I’ll show you how to do it, too, Danger. Do you like bacon with your pancakes?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Rachel woke smelling the aroma of bacon drifting up through the house, one of the most tantalizing odors in the world. She sat up groggily, glad Nick had bullied her into her own bedroom after they had showered together. The thought of explaining to Jean a relationship change involving her suddenly sleeping in Nick’s bed did not appeal to her. The alarm clock on her nightstand read eight-thirty. She wondered idly how long her two cohorts had been up. After donning her robe, she made a quick trip to the bathroom before going downstairs. She could hear laughter coming from the kitchen. Pausing at the kitchen entryway, she saw Deke doing somersaults to get small pieces of bacon thrown to him. Nick noticed her, and gave her a quick salute.
“You’re just in time for breakfast.” He walked over to the oven and took the leftover pancakes and bacon out. “I saved you a plate all warmed up. Good thing you came down when you did. Deke is getting demanding.”
“Nick taught me how to make pancakes, Mom,” Jean told her. “He calls me Danger Girl, and Danger for short. I like it.”
“Wonderful.” Rachel grimaced as she sat down and took the plate from Nick, along with a napkin containing silverware. “You could have slept in at least until eight, Nick.”
“Diego waits for no one,” he stated solemnly, while placing a mug in front of her. “How’d you sleep?”
“Great. I don’t think I even moved. Did you already check the news?”
“There’s nothing on the internet. The local news starts at nine. I’ve been meaning to bring this up, but you two trouble magnets keep cramming our days full of adventure. I think it would be a good idea to dye your hair darker.”
“Mom already bought the dye at the store.”
“We should have done it in Monterrey.”
“Then they would have known.” Nick pushed Deke away from the table. “This way, maybe we get a little extra time.”
“These are really good,” Rachel pointed at her pancakes. “Did -”
The doorbell rang, and Deke ran to the door. Nick made a calming gesture.
“Easy…easy…not everyone in this town is out to get us.”
Nick walked to the entrance and looked through the security eyelet. Two police officers stood on the front stoop. Nick looked them over carefully, from their shoes to how they wore their belts and badges. As the taller one reached for the doorbell again, Nick opened it, kneeling down to quiet the growling Deke.
“Good morning,” Nick greeted them.
“I’m Officer Mendez, and this is my partner, Officer Carrington. Are you Roscoe Weatherby?”
“Yes?” He assumed a questioning look and stood up.
“May we come in? We have some questions for you about a missing person’s case.”
“Sure,” Nick said, opening the screen door, as Rachel and Jean came out of the kitchen. Jean beckoned to Deke and the dog went to her reluctantly. “This is my wife Rachel and daughter Jean.”
Some of the tenseness left the police officers’ faces at the appearance of Rachel and Jean. Rachel clasped Nick’s arm. She leaned into him with a natural grace.
“What’s this about, hon?”
“Something about a missing person,” he answered, gesturing toward the kitchen. “Would either of you like some coffee? We were having breakfast.”
“Sure.” The dark-skinned Carrington nodded with a smile. “I’ll have a cup if it isn’t too much trouble.”