“Not five-million-dollars worth of stuff,” Gus replied as he drove toward Nick’s house. “I guess Ken really had to reeducate Phil on his position in all this. He told us Phil may have a cracked rib.”
Nick grinned and sighed with content. “That may be enough to keep me off the hotplate with Rachel. It’s hard to believe Phil would think he could play us for money. Out of curiosity, what did the weasel think he should get?”
“A million.”
It took many moments for the three companions to rein in the hilarity they shared over Phil’s attempted demands of Ken Carter.
“No wonder Ken worked the weasel over,” Nick said finally. “Phil comes to us because he and Clarice try to extort five million dollars from a billionaire and his Senate minions so above the law they immediately hatch a plan to exterminate his family. Then, after realizing the facts, he comes to us for saving.”
Nick paused while again loudly enjoying the moment. “He…he then tries to demand a million from his own nation’s law enforcement agency because his traitorous extortion plot failed. Oh my… I will need to reveal this to Rachel in private. Sonny can take the truth, but not in front of everyone. He’s tough enough for that too, but I ain’t doing it that way.”
“Perhaps Rachel will understand, Muerto,” Cala offered.
Gus nearly drove to the side of the road as he and Nick enjoyed Cala’s hoped for Rachel response. “Never underestimate Rachel’s intense feelings toward Phil and Clarice, Reaper.”
“It is really that bad, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s really that bad,” Nick answered. “I will need a couple of Bushmills before speaking to her on any level about Phil and Clarice. Her head will explode as it is with the amount I’m planning to pay them. We would never have gotten that laptop without them.”
“How much, Muerto,” Cala asked.
“I’m paying Ken fifty thousand for his part in this. He’ll figure I shouldn’t give him anything. I’m giving our dastardly duo a hundred thousand so they’ll hopefully consider doing what’s right in the future. Whether they do or not is anyone’s guess.”
“That is not so bad,” Cala replied. “I am sure Rachel will understand.”
Nick leaned back in his seat. “I don’t think so, but she will need to. In any case, I will have at least two Bushmills in me before I even discuss it with her.”
Cala laughed and clapped her hands. “This is so entertaining, watching the number one assassin in the world groveling at the feet of his wife.”
Cala smacked her hands over her mouth, blurting out in muffled form, “Sorry…sorry… did I say that out loud?”
“Loud and clear, Cleaner… loud and clear.”
“I am Reaper, Muerto.”
“Not anymore.”
* * *
“You’re doing what! Good Lord in heaven, Muerto! Grow a pair for God’s sake! A hundred thousand dollars hush money to keep a government official from betraying his own country? Where in the sane universe could that possibly be considered an option?”
Nick sipped his third Bushmills in the private chat with Rachel, with everyone else up on the deck. “I can’t kill them. I can’t imprison them. Sonny means more to me than anything his parents do. They will plot for anything to get money. I need to get them considering coming to me first with anything of the magnitude garnered off the laptop they bought. I treat them like pet rattlesnakes. Calm down, Rach. I know how you feel towards-”
“No! You don’t! I want them dead. How much? You’re taking contracts again. I want those two dead by morning!”
Nick’s almost blowing his Bushmill’s out his nose was enough to get Rachel off the plateau of death. She chuckled at him snorting and trying to not go into a choking episode. They were speaking in the safe-room downstairs. Nick suddenly ripped Rachel’s slacks and underwear down. He gripped her thighs, keeping her rolled into a tucked position, completely exposed. He grinned at her through the gap in Rachel’s pulled down slacks. Nick kissed the insides of her thighs in exploratory form.
“Don’t…don’t you dare… oh God… no… oh Muerto!”
* * *
Deke greeted Nick and Rachel at the deck door.
“I know.” Nick stroked Deke’s head. “You’ve been waiting patiently for your beer ration.”
“You’re still alive, Muerto. I assume Phil and Clarice will live another day,” Gus said.
“You two were gone a long time,” Tina added.
“We negotiated peace in our time.” Nick poured a beer into Deke’s bowl. “Where’s Jian?”
“He had a date tonight,” Johnny said. “Joe introduced him to Joan at the Monte Café. You were working that day, weren’t you, Rachel?”
“No. Joe mentioned something about it. A woman named Joan Tuan drove down from San Francisco. She has a degree in hotel management. She and Joe hit it off right away. When Jian stopped in for breakfast, Joe introduced them. Joan told Joe she interviewed for a manager’s job at the Monterey Marriott. When Joan found out Jian’s US Marshal status, she invited him to have breakfast with her.”
“Interesting meeting,” Nick commented.
“Don’t get any ideas, Gomez.” Tina pointed a warning finger at Nick. “Now and then, people do meet.”
“Not with our Unholy Trio crew,” Johnny said. “I will see what I can find on Joan. We all know there are a lot of hotels in San Francisco. The Monterey/Carmel area probably has nearly the same number though. Chance meetings in our business need to be taken seriously, Tina. Joan’s interest in Jian’s Marshal status could be legitimate, or there could be something more to it than attraction.”
“Johnny’s not planning on waterboarding her, Hon,” Gus added. “He’ll do a background check to make sure Joan is down here for a job interview at the Marriott. The other question would be how she made her way to a little place like the Monte Café instead of picking one of the restaurants at Fisherman’s Wharf or in the Marriott itself.”
“If Dad doesn’t act like everyone’s out to get us, someone will,” Jean stated. “We don’t hurt anyone’s feelings on purpose, but we can’t ignore stuff and get killed.”
“Jean has it right, Tina,” Nick agreed. “We can’t pretend everything’s great. We make sure it is. Jian has good instincts. His impressions count too.”
“How about a few slow dances, Gomez,” Tina suggested. “We can play at our ‘Addam’s Family Values’ game another time after Jian talks about his date.”
“Sure. I’ll sip a beer and play.” Nick retrieved a beer from the deck refrigerator and headed for the piano. His phone vibrated as he arrived at his bench. “Hey… it’s Cassie.”
“Nick! I’ve read the first draft of ‘Hell Zone’ three times already. This one will be red meat for the fans. I received a call from the Book Works, right in Pacific Grove. They know you live in Pacific Grove. Would you like to do a book signing there?”
“I don’t see why not. I remember driving past it on Lighthouse Avenue. I should have stopped in before. They have like a little café inside it serving coffee, tea, and pastries, right?”
“That’s the one. I’m glad you’re familiar with it. Here’s the catch. They want you to fill in tomorrow, doing a talk on writing, read a chapter of ‘Blood Beach’, and stay for a book signing. The event they planned fell through after weeks of advertising. One of your rivals who lives in Carmel promised to do it, but canceled at the last minute.”
“Sounds like fun. Do they have any of my novels in stock?”
“The manager said she did. She promised to get a bunch on consignment from other bookstores in the area if you’ll agree to do it.”
“Who am I filling in for?”
“Hardin Travers.”
Nick had to put his beer down while having a moment of hilarity.
“I know… I know,” Cassie said. “He’s the guy who had a troll army do book killings on your first novel after it became a bestseller. Travers moved to Carmel at the beginning of the year. You guys are in a
ll the same categories in action and adventure.”
“Sorry… Cass… his troll army introduced me to the meaning of what the term ‘book killer’ meant. He screwed himself up when they all ended their tirade against me with a plug for him as an author, not to mention using nearly the identical wording in their one-star hit pieces. His fans won’t appreciate my replacing him. Hardin’s protagonist, Ren Caulfield, a supposed special forces operative, gets into one goofball situation after another, doing stupid stuff no professional would ever do. It is the typical ploy though in literature: dig holes for your character to claw their way out of at the last second to avoid disaster.”
“Sounds like you have your writing subject,” Cassie pointed out.
“True. Good input, Cass. It will give me an opportunity to politely call attention to the differences in style, so we don’t have a bunch of unhappy people expecting Ren Caulfield type action, but getting a cold-blooded killer like Diego.”
“Thanks for doing this. The incredible publicity you’ve been getting from your endeavors overseas, and here in America, have you in the number one position amongst all authors. Hell… your real-life adventures are beginning to eclipse Diego’s fiction ones. The manager told me the local media will be covering the event. She only asked one thing – please don’t kill anyone.”
“I’ll try not to,” Nick played along, “but I make no promises.”
“I’ll check on you tomorrow. Get some sleep. The event is at 11 am.”
“Did you just insult me?”
“Bye, Nick.”
Nick put away his phone. “I have a book signing tomorrow here in Pacific Grove. Anyone interested, be ready to arrive at the store by 10:30. It’s not mandatory for anyone. I’m filling in for an author so different from me, I’ll be giving a talk on the differences, so the readers attending won’t be expecting one thing and getting another.”
“In other words, the readers at the store will probably not know anything about Jed and Leo, huh?”
“That would be my guess, Payaso,” Nick answered. “Travers style and mine are so different, his readers may have tried my novels, and hated my style. I would introduce you guys if it is a big crowd. I know the store had to send out a notice that Travers had cancelled. He may have had fans coming from as far North as San Francisco, and who knows how far South.”
“I want to come, Dad,” Jean said. “Even if there are only a few people, I’d like to see the Book Works store. I heard you say it was on Lighthouse Avenue. That’s within walking distance of us. It would be fun.”
“I’d like to go too, Sir,” Sonny added. “I like studying the people. If what you describe is true about Travers’ fans, it will be really interesting to see how they react to you. Jean and I will study Hardin Travers’ background. We can read the reviews he gets and read some of his ‘Look Inside’ previews of his books.”
Nick stared right at Rachel with a big smile.
“Okay… okay… Sonny’s a jewel,” Rachel admitted. “We need to keep his folks alive.”
“What my lovely wife is trying to say is that’s good thinking, Sonny,” Nick told him. “You and Jean on the prep work will get us ready to face any readers super perturbed their favorite author isn’t there.”
“Jed’s going,” Gus said. “Like Jean said, we’re in walking distance of home.”
“Leo, of course will be there,” Johnny promised. “We’ve taken care of our local problems. We could all walk down together, have a breakfast roll and coffee in the bookstore. I heard you mention they have a small café inside.”
“That sounds like fun,” Rachel said. “Tina, Cala, and I will bring Quinn down to the Book Works in the Ford for coffee and a roll. That way, you can walk Deke too. We’ll drive down to check out the bookstore and take Deke back with us.”
“I like it.” Nick did a riff on the piano keys. He launched into Louis Armstrong’s ‘It’s a Wonderful World’.
* * *
“This is a setup of some kind, Sonny.” Jean pointed at her screen excitedly. “There are no notices of Travers even being scheduled to do a book signing at the Book Works on their own website. They have a surprise event scheduled with a mystery author. Wow… what do you think this means?”
“I don’t know. We’ve read all of Travers’ ‘Look Inside’ previews. They seem bland compared to your Dad’s. Travers’ novels sink like a stone with a lot of critical reviews wondering if he has someone else writing them. He has the usual release with bought and paid for reviews. After the first couple of weeks, the new release fades quickly as the negative reviews pile up. The tie-in I see is your Dad’s agent, Cassie. She’ll know who contacted her. Whoever it is might be a manager Cassie knows. We need to bring your dad in on this now.”
Jean clenched her fists, resisting the wild urge to play the new scene out without telling Nick anything about it. The adrenaline rush of being amongst adults who thought they could take on the Unholy Trio nearly buried her moral creed.
“I do what you say in all things, Jean,” Sonny said uneasily. “You know better than to hide this. Do you want me to tell him?”
Jean took a deep breath. She gripped Sonny’s hand. “You do it, Cracker. It was your idea. I need to take a step back.”
Sonny covered her hand. “We’re partners… forever. I will remind you of duty and honor. If you decide something different, I follow your lead no matter what.”
“Let’s go get this over with.” Jean listened to the pounding piano upstairs, hearing Nick’s voice belting out ‘House of the Rising Sun’. “I know it’s wrong, but sometimes I fear letting the Terminator know stuff.”
“I hear you. It’s worse if you keep the information away from him and he ends up in the middle of it. Your dad will kill everyone involved in a heartbeat, even in public. This may be something petty having to do with this Travers’ jealousy of your dad. We can’t determine what your dad will do if he gets dumped into something unknown.”
“You’re right. He needs to know without me playing kid’s games.”
* * *
Nick’s mouth tightened. He had been enjoying the late evening more than he could express in words. The passion he performed with, reflected his joy in entertaining. Nick’s return to music restored something in his soul. He gripped Sonny’s shoulders. “Thanks, kid. We’ll scope the situation out. I’ll call my agent now and learn who at Book Works called her. I’m hoping this is just a cheap shot at me by Travers. It may not be good for you kids to go tomorrow.”
Jean gripped Nick’s hand. “Please don’t leave us out of this, Dad. Sonny and I can take care of ourselves. With you and the Unholy Trio crew, there’s no chance of anyone ambushing us now.”
Nick hugged Jean. “You have not yet learned the rule of unintended consequences, Viper. Picture what would happen if someone simply blew the Book Works into the next dimension.”
Jean giggled. “Don’t project, Dad.” Her jab provoked amusement amongst the others.
The little twerp and her accomplice pay too much attention to the news. Nick knew Jean joked about his propensity for using grenades, as did his crew. “I hope you understand I would never do that with my fellow American citizens innocently in the target zone.”
“I know that,” Jean stated. “Call Cassie. We’ll get to the bottom of this quick.”
Nick smiled. “Your will… my hand, Viper.”
Nick woke Cassie up in New York time. She answered with mumbled greetings.
“Nick?”
“I need to know who contacted you, Cass. Travers never signed on to do anything at Book Works. I will show for the ‘Mystery Author’ book signing tomorrow, but I do need to know what the hell is going on.”
“Rhonda Ceries. I’ve met her at agents and publishers’ gatherings. She’s a real person. What is it you suspect?”
“I’m not sure what to suspect. I guess it could be a gag or a roundabout way to get me to do a book signing. That doesn’t make sense either, since all they had to do was call.
Think about it. Why would anyone call you with a ploy to get me filling in for a famous author at a small bookstore in out of the way Pacific Grove?”
“I…I don’t have a clue, Nick.”
“That’s clear enough. Don’t call or contact anyone until this so-called book signing is in the past and we find out what prompted it, Cass. It may be something humorous like leaving me sitting in an empty bookstore.”
“Understood. Rhonda sold me on her sincerity. Please call me with what you find out. I’m sorry about this, Nick.”
“No need to be. This wasn’t your fault. Talk at you tomorrow.” Nick disconnected. “Cass knew the manager who called. Her name is Rhonda Ceries. I think we’re done for the night. The kids and I will do one last check on the situation.”
“This does seem more like a joke than something sinister,” Rachel said.
“You’ve told us about seeing authors with their books piled on a table at a book signing with no one around,” Gus said. “Would someone want to snap pictures of the great author sitting in an empty bookstore?”
“Maybe. This should be a fun Saturday morning adventure,” Nick replied. “It’s like one of those cozy mysteries you hear about.”
“Yeah… because cute little things like that always happen around you, Gomez,” Tina said. “More likely, it’s a trap with a cartel army waiting to give you a Columbian Necktie.”
“I will call Jian in the morning,” Johnny offered. “He loved the last book signing. We will then have a full crew on hand for anything.”
“This book signing sounds interesting enough for me to have a coffee and roll,” Cala added. “With the morning sickness, I may not be able to enjoy coffee and a roll soon.”
“Goodnight, everyone,” Nick said. “I’ll go investigate a few things with the kids and take Deke for a walk.”
Deke began leaping straight up and down.
“Strike that. First I walk Deke the pogo-stick.”
Cold Blooded Assassin Book 8: Rule of Nightmare (Nick McCarty Assassin) Page 18