Leo paid the dinner check, leaving a generous tip. That was one thing that was different between him and Nathan. While co-owner of a multi-million dollar computer company, the guy was still a bit of a cheapskate — tipping at exactly fifteen percent right down to the cent.
Why was she comparing Leo to Nathan? They were completely different people. Damn it. Was she looking at Leo as a replacement for Nathan? The man was an admitted professional killer. He didn't try to hide it from her, but she did sense that he had never revealed this to anyone else. She wasn't sure as to how she felt about that. They were in this together.
Besides, it looked like Nathan might have even more blood on his hands that Leo did. The extent of his duplicity was yet to be fully revealed.
She found herself relishing the challenge of figuring out what Nathan had done, and why. Just present her with a puzzle, be it a secure computer system, a locked door or anything like that, she was like a terrier fighting a rat — not going to give up no matter what happened.
The unaccustomed weight on her hips of the Beretta and the magazines broke her reverie. She didn't expect to be a gun slinger today, but here she was, packing heat. She still wasn't sure if she could actually shoot someone with it if she had to. Leo seemed unconcerned about that fact when he had insisted that she carry a weapon. They would have to deal with that when it came down to it.
“Where are we going now?” she asked.
Leo was walking out towards the truck.
“I need to buy some things, and then we need to lay down a false trail or two.”
The first stop was a drug store where he picked up some incidentals, like a toothbrush, shaving tackle and shampoo.
The next place he took them to was a hardware store where he purchased a staple gun and bought out the store's entire stock of cheese cloth. What the hell was he up to?
They then went to a bookstore where he picked up half a dozen 'Word Finder' puzzle books. Now she was really confused.
Getting back into the truck, she said, “I don't have a clue as to what those last two purchases were all about. Want to confide in your partner in crime?”
“The cheese cloth is for a sniper hide. At the right angle, you can't see into where I'll be hiding. It works very well and I've used it several times. It looks like there's a curtain in front of the window, yet I can see and shoot out of it. The puzzle books are to help me pick out targets. You look for something out of place — be it a window open that shouldn't be, someone looking around too much, heck, a blade of grass out of place could be an important clue. I like to keep my mind active, stressing the skills I need to snipe.”
He put the car in gear.
She said, “You are like a hundred percent shooter, aren't you?”
He nodded. “Yep. Shooting is what I'm good at, damn good at, and be grateful that you are on my side of the rifle; otherwise, the story would be completely different.”
“Really?” she asked, trying to keep the indignity out of her voice. “You would have killed me?”
“If it had come down to doing it to protect my life and the way I want to live it, in a heartbeat. But I know that there is something bigger going on that I was going to get dragged in on and I hate not being in control of my own destiny.”
The drove to a chain motel. In the parking lot, Leo took out a floppy hat and put it on along with a pair of sunglasses even though it was dark outside.
“Make sure you stay out of the view of any of the cameras. And if you do, look down. We don't want your face on any more TV broadcasts than you need to be.
Clutching a small suitcase in which Leo had loaded all of his purchases except for the cheese cloth, he stalked to the desk and rented a room. Strangely, he used a credit card. The clerk ran it, and as he was handing over the key card, he said, “Have a nice evening, Mr. Phillips.”
There was a hidden innuendo in his voice that irritated her. It wasn't like the place was a hot sheet hotel, but when it looked like two strangers checked in to a hotel, one obviously disguised, the other hiding from any cameras, without much, if any, luggage, there was probably a logical conclusion that almost anyone could make without stretching too far.
Leo had insisted on a ground floor room behind the building, probably adding to the mystery. They unloaded a few other things from the truck. Leo reached up and tapped the camera at the door of the hotel out of the way so that it wasn't pointing at the door any more. The man was careful.
When they got to the room, Leo checked it quickly. Turning to her, he said, “Get cleaned up, take a shower, whatever. We won't be staying here tonight.”
“Why not? And who the hell is Phillips?”
“We are setting a false trail. And James Phillips is the guy I killed with a letter opener and then set the body on fire in the trunk of his rental car with some super thermite that I brewed up. At some point, the cops or the feds will figure out who it was that was cooked in the trunk of his car and wonder why the hell he's renting hotel rooms with pretty girls in Denver. Tomorrow, I'll make some calls using his cell phone to really screw with them. If the guys, good or bad, are looking for him, maybe they won't be looking for us.”
He had said it so matter of factly, like, “I stepped out to the corner and crossed the street.” This man could be cold. She made a note to herself not to ever get in the way of something that he really wanted. Was he much different than Nathan had been — possessing a drive and tenacity that bordered on inhuman?
She stepped towards the bathroom. “What about my gun?”
“It's a pistol. Correct terminology will lead to the right mindset. From there, you can do almost anything.
“Anyway, take it with you. The humidity won't hurt it. When we settle down for good tonight, I'll show you how to clean and oil it. Lock the door. If I knock three times, come out shooting. If you hear a struggle out here, same thing. We should be all right for a couple of hours, but it's best to play it conservative.”
She did as he asked, setting the pistol on the sink where she could grab it without reaching too far out of the shower.
First time that she ever took a shower with a pistol. Once she got the shower going, she luxuriated in the heat and steam, feeling it melt away some of the tensions of the day. She was still uncomfortable, in a hotel room with a strange man, doing things that were completely beyond her comfort zone, but at least she had been fed a decent meal and looked to be safe. For now.
When she got done, dressing in the same clothes she had worn all day, she pried the door open. Leo had taken off his shirt and was doing some sort of strange exercises — it started out like a pushup, but then went in different directions from there.
There was a weird looking pistol right by his hand; small but it had a cylinder at the end of the barrel. A silencer?
She marveled at Leo's physique — the man was ripped. Sure, he looked and sounded like a coin geek or a gun nut, but she knew she wouldn't have been able to put both her hands around his biceps, they were that big. It wasn't the kind of muscle built at a gym, lacking in some of the definition that she had seen in gym rats, but looked to be built the long and hard way. Wow, was the best thing she could say.
“You done looking?” Leo asked from the floor.
“Yes,” was all that she could bring herself to say. Leo grabbed his pistol and hopped to his feet. The view was even better. He had six-pack abs and a well-defined chest. Whereas Nathan had merely used his body as a vessel for his mind and it showed in some of his personal grooming habits, the way he dressed and the crap food he shoveled into his system, Leo's body was a temple and she found herself wistfully wondering what it would be like to worship at it.
On his shoulder was a strange hump. He must have seen where she was looking because he said, “Callus. From shooting.” He rubbed it and said, “No matter, it still is a little sore from all the shooting I did today.”