“Would you like to join me?”
“Can I?”
“Sure, but it’s Nick when you sit down, okay?”
“Of course.”
She walked up front and spoke to her assistant manager. The man nodded in agreement. Rachel returned to Nick’s table and sat down where Denise had sat earlier.
“I don’t normally do this, but…”
“I’m honored,” Nick cut in gently, eating a forkful of salad.
Rachel laughed. “You’re kind of a smartass, aren’t you?”
“Guilty.”
“What are you doing visiting this furnace, instead of enjoying the ocean coolness, Nick?”
“I’m on a field trip, researching the area for a part in my next book.”
“You’re not going to put Applebee’s in it, are you?”
“Yeah, I am, and you in some form, along with a host of other details.”
“Me? In your book? I…”
“Not you in person, but possibly a waitress who takes breaks with her customers.”
Rachel giggled. She looked away from Nick. Rachel remembered how happy she’d been upon hearing the news which her contact with the US Marshalls had delivered a week ago: Hayden Tanus was dead. The possibility of returning to her old life in New York had been breathtaking. Now, sitting opposite Nick, it didn’t feel as exciting. Rachel shook her head. He’s a stranger. What the hell’s wrong with you, girl?
“You look like something stung you.”
“It’s…it’s just that I…received some good news last week about maybe returning home.”
“Where’s home?” Seeing Rachel hesitate, Nick quickly added, “No need to say. I was making small talk.”
“No, it’s all right,” Rachel smiled, meeting Nick’s eyes again. “I don’t want to talk about it until I have an actual chance to do it.”
“It sounds like you’ve already decided.” Nick kept his voice carefully neutral, but his voice was the only thing in neutral. “Well, I better get moving.”
Suddenly, seeing Nick walk out was the last thing on Earth Rachel wanted. She reached over to take his hand as he started to stand.
“Wait, Nick, do you have to go back tonight?”
“I have a room at the Marriott in Pleasanton. I had planned to stay over.”
“Great, I live close to there. Why don’t we have dinner so we could talk some more?”
“I’d like that. I have to warn you though. I’m not as funny when you’ve been around me more than fifteen minutes.”
“I’ll take the chance. We’ll meet at the Marriott and have a drink together. If you’re still funny after the first drink, we can have dinner. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Chapter Two
US Marshalls
As Rachel walked out to the parking lot she spotted the familiar black Lincoln next to her Honda. Anxiety made her breath come in short gasps, amplified by the discomforting sweat from leaving Applebee’s air conditioned building into the Livermore, California heat. Rachel opened the Lincoln’s passenger side door and slipped quickly inside, thankful they had the air conditioning going. She took a deep breath and gave the couple in front a tired wave.
“Is it still good news, or not?”
“We’re in gathering mode back east but it looks good,” the brunette in the driver’s seat said. “Tanus was the only one you could help us with. We suspect Tanus had the whole operation on his shoulders. We’re hoping his import/export network will be falling apart, instead of someone jumping right into his shoes. Our overseas contacts are already moving on his holdings there. You may be home free, but I’m not sure going home to New York right away would be a good idea.”
“Tim said -”
“Yeah, I know what Tim said.” The woman interrupted Rachel as she skewered the man with dark hair on her right with a grim look. “Want to take it from here, Tim?”
“Sorry, I made a slight jump in logic” Tim acknowledged. He looked back at Rachel. “Grace pointed out the probability of trouble if you popped up in New York all of a sudden. Who was the boyfriend?”
“What boy… oh… you mean the guy I sat with on break. His name’s Nick McCarty. He’s some kind of writer doing -”
“Shit! Are you kidding me?” Grace exclaimed. She looked over at her partner. “Do you remember the book I gave you to read titled Diego’s Way?”
“Yeah, the assassin for hire,” Tim replied. “McCarty must be loaded. How many bestsellers did you tell me he had?”
“Eleven so far, all about the same badass killer,” Grace explained excitedly to Rachel. “He lives down near Monterrey. What’s McCarty doing up here?”
“Nick told me he’s researching the area for his next book, using Pleasanton as one of the locales. He’s staying at the Marriott there.”
“Oh it’s Nick already. Gee, that’s cozy,” Tim said. “So is the fact that you only live a couple blocks from there, Kim.”
“By the way, is there any chance of losing the Kim Hunnicutt moniker?”
Grace nodded. “That may be doable. We should know more in two weeks. So, do you have something going on with Nick, Kimmy?”
Rachel growled, evoking laughter in the front. Grace’s continual banter from their first meeting had put Rachel at ease in a horrid situation. Although professional in all aspects relating to her client, Grace used her jokingly blunt persona to make a connection with people she handled in the program, and to extract bits of information vital to doing her job. Having witnessed the many verbal sparring matches between Grace and Tim, Rachel could tell Grace’s manner was no affectation.
“You know I hate that name.”
“Yeah… What’s your point?” Grace needled her a little more. “You’ve been in the program nearly a year and this is the first social meeting we’ve seen you have.”
“Being afraid for my life has that effect on me,” Rachel retorted. “For the first six months I thought any guy who looked at me was a potential killer. When Nick looked at me…I…it seemed like he knew me.”
“Writers are like that,” Grace stated as if she were an expert. “Did you initiate the interest?”
“A woman came up and asked for his autograph when I brought him an iced tea. I guess I did come on kind of strong after that.”
“I don’t blame you,” Grace said. “Spill it. Are you going on a date or what?”
“I’m meeting him at the Marriott bar at seven and then we’re going to dinner if things work out.”
“We’ll have to check him out, right Tim? I think a double date is in order. Besides, Tim here’s been trying to get into my pants for the last two years.”
Tim started choking comically.
“No way!” Rachel gasped, pushing Grace in the back of her head. “I’m not going on a first date with you two.”
“I’m afraid I’ll have to insist,” Grace began; but one look at Rachel’s face, and she turned to pleading. “Please…please…please…”
Rachel tried to keep from laughing but failed. Grace added hands clasped in prayer over the seat back to her mantra.
“Okay…okay…” Rachel relented. “One look at you two and my romance with Nick will be over before it begins. But what the hell? I came on to him like a cheap hooker. Maybe he’ll think I’m more reserved if you two show up.”
“No, he’ll tell you to take a hike,” Tim warned. “Don’t listen to the Black Widow here. She wants to meet the famous author at any cost and throw our low profile presence to the wind. Take my advice, and tell Grace to get a life. The moment Grace walks into the bar she’ll throw herself all over this McCarty guy like the attack of the Gorgon. She’ll turn him to stone before you get to first base.”
“I have a gun, pencil-neck,” Grace threatened, while Rachel laughed at Tim’s send up of his partner. “One more word out of you and you’ll be on life support.”
“You two can come for a drink,” Rachel relented. “After that I want you both gone.”
“Good enough
. Now get out of the car,” Grace ordered. “I have to find a book store and buy Nick’s latest novel. I’m getting his autograph tonight.”
Rachel opened the car door, gritting her teeth at the blast of heat. “You two better be on your best behavior.”
“See ya at seven, Kimmy.” Grace waved while Tim mouthed, ‘I told you so,’ through the passenger side window.
Rachel let Grace back the Lincoln out and leave before opening the driver’s side door of her white Honda Civic. She pulled the reflectors from the front and rear windows and threw them on the backseat. They were the only reason she could enter the car after it had baked all day in the sun. Rachel smiled as she started the car and put the air conditioning on full blast, wondering what Nick would say when he met Grace and Tim.
* * * *
Nick, parked a block up from where the meeting between Rachel and the US Marshalls had taken place, put away his earpiece. He had picked the two agents out earlier and bugged their car while they went inside the restaurant. They were pretty funny for US Marshalls, Nick thought, driving his Malibu toward the Marriott Hotel.
* * * *
“Grace, could you come here for a second?” Tim called out from the kitchen of Grace’s apartment in Dublin, California.
Tim had his notebook computer open on the kitchen table searching databases while waiting for Grace to get ready.
“What?” Grace walked into the kitchen still brushing her hair.
“Check out Mr. McCarty’s file, Princess,” Tim urged, getting up and gesturing at the screen.
“He’s a New York Times best-selling author, for God’s sake, what…shit…!” Grace had started out scanning the screen, but ended up throwing her brush aside and sitting down in Tim’s seat. “Special Forces…Delta…and then…Jesus…file transferred to DOJ in 1998. What the hell does all this mean?”
“It shows him still in the reserves and the rest of his file after 1998 is blocked. That’s when his writing career took off and he bought the house in Pacific Grove. I pulled up his passport activity. He’s a traveler.”
“His novels are about an assassin who kills people all over the world. He’d say it was research,” Grace muttered, standing up. “I don’t like this. I’ll finish getting ready, and you call it in. Maybe Richards has more pull and can find out about McCarty.”
* * * *
“I figured they’d hit the databases next,” Nick mumbled to himself after deciphering the scrambled message he received by logging on to the anonymous bulletin board online. He took out the satellite phone from his bag, fingered a number in, waited five seconds, and hung up. It beeped thirty seconds later.
“Hello, Romeo.” The gruff voice on the other end of the line greeted Nick. “What the hell do you think you’re doin’? I told you your damned involvement ended with that rogue sanction on Tanus.”
“They put out another hit on her this morning. Apparently, the leak at DOJ is still bleeding information. There’s no way Tanus would have shared his knowledge of Rachel’s location or my involvement. Even with my cover, I can’t…”
“No contact, Nick! You’re the deepest we’ve ever been into this network. You’ve been a ghost, thanks to that goofy writing career you managed to pull off. In one day you pissed it all away. We have US Marshalls hacking into the DOJ databases trying to access your record, and now you’re romancing the mark?”
“You wanted the leak found out. When Tanus bought the hit on Rachel, you ordered me to stall the deal. I stalled it. What happened to ‘we don’t work domestic’? As long as I keep Rachel alive, you have time to nail the leak at DOJ. Who was it that told me the entire Witness Protection Program is for sale to the highest bidder, Frank?”
“Who the hell gave you permission to write your own ticket, genius?”
“Some folks just need killin’.”
“You son of a…okay, listen up cowboy, drop off the radar immediately. Let’s salvage what we still have. Get the hell out of Pleasanton.”
“That’s a negative, good buddy. It was all okay when Tanus ordered hits on scumbags overseas. What were you thinking – sacrifice a witness to keep Tanus in business and find the leak at DOJ as a bonus? You keep hunting for the leak, and I’ll do whatever the hell I want to do.”
“You’ve watched ‘Bourne Identity’ too many times, Nick. Get your head out of your ass. You have too much to lose. We can take it all away.”
“Don’t threaten me, Frank. I don’t like it. Tanus threatened me once.”
“Why you arrogant… Did you just -”
“I didn’t just anything. I’ve played this game by your rules for ten years. I’ll play this one a little different. Take some time to think it over. Call me tomorrow morning. I have a date tonight.”
Nick disconnected. That went well.
* * * *
Nick stood up from his table in the Marriott hotel bar. Rachel spotted him and walked over. She self-consciously smoothed her black scoop-neck dress with gathered bodice.
The hem ended inches above her knees. Her blonde hair, no longer tied back, lay loosely past her shoulders. At six feet tall, Nick was only a couple inches taller than Rachel in her black high-heels.
“Hi,” Nick greeted her with a smile. “You look nervous.”
“Good, because I am,” Rachel conceded, sitting down in the chair Nick pulled out for her. “On the other hand, you look like you do this all the time…I mean, date nearly complete strangers.”
“Hardly,” Nick replied, sitting opposite Rachel as a waitress came over. “Would you like something to drink? I held off on ordering.”
“Long Island Iced Tea, please,” Rachel told the waitress.
“Dos Equis dark,” Nick ordered.
“I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
Nick grinned. “A Long Island, huh? You must be nervous.”
“I already copped to that, smartass.” Rachel giggled. “Look, I know this is weird, but two of my friends who are really big fans of yours are stopping by for a drink with us. Will that be okay? If not, I can -”
“I don’t mind,” Nick cut in gently.
“I…I think my friend Grace is bringing along one of your novels for you to sign.”
“Okay. One book signing coming right up.”
“You’re upset, aren’t you?”
“Nope, if I was I’d already be on my way out the door. I’m not much on hiding my feelings. You look stunning.”
“Thank you.” Rachel glanced away, her face reddening under Nick’s gaze. The waitress arrived and set the drinks down on the table with their tab.
“I thought we’d have dinner here, too, if I don’t scare you away during our ‘have a drink together’ tryout.” Nick liked Rachel more with each passing moment. “I didn’t bring anything with me other than slacks, jeans, and a few pullover shirts, so I’m reluctant to go anywhere fancier.”
“I’m overdressed is what you’re saying?”
“No.” Nick laughed at Rachel’s dig. He saw Tim and Grace entering the restaurant bar. “I was trying to explain why I only wore slacks and a shirt.”
Grace appeared to be a couple inches shorter than Rachel in Nick’s peripheral vision, while he thought Tim looked a little taller than he was. Noticing the grim look he was getting from the agents Nick wondered if they found out more than they should have. Grace carried a hardbound book in her hand. She wore a blue sleeveless dress, so Nick figured it couldn’t be too bad. Tim wore black slacks and a brown pullover shirt. Their appearance startled Rachel, who had been in the middle of telling Nick there weren’t really any dress codes anywhere in the area.
“Hi.” Rachel greeted Grace and Tim, moving over into the chair next to Nick. “Grace, Tim, this is Nick McCarty. Nick, this is Grace Stanwick and Tim Reinhold.”
“Happy to meet you.” Nick stood and shook hands with each of them before gesturing at the empty chairs. “Please join us. I see you have Cold Terror with you, Grace. Would you like me to sign it for you?”
“Uh…sure, if you don’t mind.” Grace glanced down at the book in her hand as if having forgotten she’d brought it along and then handed it to Nick. “I was wondering if we might borrow Kim for a moment.”
“Huh?” Rachel looked up in surprise at Grace.
“Just take a moment,” Grace urged.
“I’m sorry, Nick. We’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be here.” Nick unclipped the pen from the book jacket. While watching the three walk away he signed it to my friend Grace with his signature.
* * * *
“Hey, thanks a lot,” Rachel hissed at Grace as they entered the lobby area side by side with Tim bringing up the rear. “As if this date isn’t strange enough.”
“We found out a few disturbing items of interest about Nick.” Grace handed Rachel a folded sheet of paper she took from her purse.
Rachel unfolded the paper with ill-disguised irritation which quickly turned to shock.
“You can see why we’re a little concerned about Nick,” Tim added as Rachel continued reading.
“Okay.” Rachel handed the paper back to Grace. “Nick’s a little more than a writer. He’s a war hero, travels a lot and I saw your note about his file being blocked from 1998 on. Apparently, when he writes about violent people, Nick probably has some real life experience. I’m surprised, but I don’t see anything on the paper to make me think he’s a danger to me. According to your info, he’s owned a house in Pacific Grove since hitting it big as a novelist in 1998. Maybe that has something to do with his file being vague since then.”
“Restricted access doesn’t mean vague,” Tim pointed out.
“Look, Kimmy, we don’t think Nick’s here to kill you. Hell, he wouldn’t invite you out on a date so he could pop you…at least in the bullet type sense,” Grace explained. “We wanted you to know there’s more unexplained stuff about the guy than there are facts.”
Cold Blooded Page 2