Their meals arrived and were arranged in front of them. Chef’s salad for June, steak and fries for Jack. Rare, with peppercorn sauce. June picked up her fork and set it down again. There was nothing wrong with her salad, but she still had something on her mind.
“Now we’re moving into new territory, this whole man-woman relationship thing.” She nodded her head at the other three tables, Leopold and Jerome seated near them. “That’s hard enough to contend with, even without them watching.”
“And you want to know how often I do this with someone else?”
She shrugged.
“Most of my meals are eaten in a car or plane, or with guys like them. Otherwise, if I can get some privacy to eat alone, I do that in a hotel room. I know it’s probably breaking one of your brain surgery rules for me, but I rarely get a day off. Much less socialize.” He too set down his fork. “And my upcoming schedule will only get busier over the next few months.”
“So…”
“It’s been a while since I’ve had dinner with a woman.”
June flashed her dimple again, satisfied with his answer. She had no way of knowing if it was the truth, but it was good enough for that weekend. It still left her in new territory. Just exactly how does someone flirt with a presidential candidate while security agents waited nearby? The answer came quickly. She slipped her foot out of her shoe and stroked his ankle with her toes. He looked at her, a mischievous smile spreading across his lips.
The evening was just getting started.
Chapter 21
FROM THE OPPOSITE side of the hotel restaurant, Jonny Yamada saw what he needed. Just to be careful, he checked images he had stored in his phone, current images from news stories, and older pictures from years before from when the woman was a known fashion model. He was certain it was her, but still, he wanted to make sure. Jonny knew the drill. Countless hours studying old movies and novels. Sit with your back to the wall and face the exits. Use reflective surfaces to your advantage. Don’t look anyone in the eye. Stay under the radar, disappear into the background.
With a casual air, he held his smart phone up to his face and pretended to have a conversation on it. He aimed the camera lens of the phone in the direction of the couple dining in the far corner of the private room, saved a couple images, and took a look after enlarging them.
It’s got to be her. He held the phone in his lap, staring at the screen. He looked at the man she was with, hoping to confirm her identity through her choice of dining partner. To him, all Hispanic men looked alike. Strong features, dark skin, hair, and eyes, masculine. And that looks like Jack Melendez. But he couldn’t be sure about him either.
He sent the new images to Mariel. As a Filipina, she could tell better than him about the appearances of Hispanics. Uploaded to a secure FTP site, they would be untraceable. No way to link him to them.
Is that mom and dad? he asked in a subsequent text message.
Looks like them, Mariel sent back.
OK, it’s time.
He stabbed one last piece of ravioli with his fork and tossed down some cash on the table, more than enough to pay for the meal and a tip. He left his table in a hurry, his waiter watching him leave. He got out to his car, grabbed the large hotel laundry bag stuffed with pillows and went back into the hotel. Quickly, he made his way to the basement using the key card Mariel had given him, watching for the VIP elevator to come down. He made a call.
“I’m here,” was all he said. He endured a two-minute wait until the elevator doors slid open. Mariel emerged in a rush.
“This is stupid,” she told him, taking the linen bag. “I should’ve just brought these things with me when I came to work.”
“What’s stupid is that little outfit they make you wear.”
“It’s a job, and better than the one you have,” she said. “I’ll change the pillows over tomorrow, like you said.” She asked to confirm their plan. She dropped the bag at her feet.
“Careful,” Jonny said. He grabbed the laundry bag off the floor and gave it a quick inspection. “Knock these things around. You’ll set them off.”
“Okay, okay, I get it.”
“Just get them swapped over before tomorrow night. I’ll handle the rest.”
Mariel frowned. “What time are you detonating them?”
“That’s not something for you to worry about. Better you don’t know.”
Mariel knew better than to argue. “Fine. You really piss me off sometimes, you know.” She hefted the laundry bag and rushed back to the elevator. As the elevator doors slid closed, she gave him the finger.
Chapter 22
AFTER DINNER, JUNE was escorted to her room first, leaving Jack at the table. Leopold accompanied her to the elevator. That was a clue to something she had been wondering about. If he was with her, that left Jerome back with Jack, the more important of the two of them. And that meant Jerome was the better bodyguard of the pair. Did that mean Leopold was the brains? She hoped so.
Leopold hit the button for the seventh floor at the VIP elevator.
“You have to go up there with me?” June looked at the key card and wondered when she would get one herself. “I can find my way to my room. Just give me a pass.”
“Just here to the elevator. Our focus is on Mister Melendez.” He handed her a key card. “You’ll be in room five. Go there and wait.”
“You don’t need to escort me?” she asked, wondering why she had so much free rein. She glanced up at Leopold. His eyes bored through her. It made her a little uncomfortable.
He shook his head. “The floor is mostly empty; it’s just us and a housekeeper. But don’t bother with her if you need something. Make any requests through either me or Jerome.”
“Same housekeeper for the entire weekend?”
“She passed our security background checks, but you need to leave her alone. The less contact with hotel staff, the better. Mostly, if she remains invisible, it means she’s doing her job correctly. Usually there would be a cook and housekeeping staff, drivers, along with nannies and teachers if the client has a family. That’s the good thing about being employed by a single man. Staffing is limited.” Leopold smiled at her. “No high-maintenance women to watch over.”
She grinned back. “You’ve just met me.”
They reached the seventh floor of the hotel. There were only four suite doors along the hallway, two rooms at each side of the elevator, just around the corner, and stairwells at the ends of the hallway. She wondered which was Jack’s. Two other doors, closets perhaps. A young woman in a housekeeper’s uniform appeared from within one of them. She noticed them and smiled, her hands clasped in front of her.
“Hi,” June said as she got close.
The smile broadened. “Hello, Miss Kato.”
June shook hands with her. Strong grip, toned arms. She looked as though she was a few years from seeing thirty, skin dark and even. “Call me June. Are you the housekeeper for the weekend?”
“Yes, ma’am. If you need anything, please ask. I’ll be in room seven.”
“I should be fine, thanks. Just don’t call me ‘ma’am.’ What’s your name?”
“Miss Mercado.”
She seemed nervous, so June let her go. She hurried away in the opposite direction to June’s room.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Leopold said, turning to leave. “I’m needed downstairs.”
“Thanks”
He left. As she walked to her room, June noticed something peculiar about the stairwell doors, some sort of X-shaped bars across them, blocking entry. Probably a safety precaution.
June went into her room, pulling the door closed behind her. Her jaw nearly hit the carpet. Her suite was huge, almost as big as her entire house. She had two bedrooms, two complete bathrooms, a kitchenette, and a full-sized living room with couches, easy chairs, a dining table, and a flatscreen mounted on the wall. The suite was neat and tidy, scrubbed clean, but still cozy. The bed looked inviting. If she hadn’t been meeting up with
Jack in a few minutes, she could easily have flopped down in the bed and settled in for an early night.
True enough, her bag had got to her room safe and sound. Not only that, her clothes were hanging up in the closet or arranged in drawers. Her toiletries were on the bathroom counter, neatly arranged. Several bottles of water on the counter top.
June took off her clothes and climbed in the shower. Once she was out, she put on the thick hotel robe and flopped down on the bed with her phone. It had a soft downy cushion to it, and June made the mental note to get the brand name so she could buy one for herself at home. She felt her eyelids droop.
Here – so far so good. She sent a text message to Amy.
And? Amy replied quickly.
Tell you in the morning.
She slid the phone aside and stretched her arms over her head with a yawn. Pulling the bedspread partly over her, she punched a dent into the pillow and settled her head down.
***
The dreams came quickly. The smell of electrocautery, a sour barbecue stink. A wisp of smoke, like a cigarette burning. There was confusion, noise. Someone asking her something.
“Doctor Kato, are you ready?”
She looked up. The senior surgeon, her trainer, stared at her.
“Just call me June. But yes, I guess so,” she said. The surgeon seemed familiar, but she wasn’t sure why, or who. “What instrument do I use first?”
“The scalpel. But you need to put your hand out so I can give it to you.”
June held out her hand and he slapped a sharp surgical knife into it. “Just cut on the blue line,” he said.
June did as she was told, finding it much easier to slice through skin than she expected. Once she was down to bone, she handed the knife back again. “What about the mess?”
“Never mind about that,” the surgeon said. “You have other things to do.” He handed her a gauze sponge and an electrocautery hand piece. She used it on the patient. Wisps of smoke rose from the spots she cauterized, sealing the wounds. The more she worked, the warmer the tissue became. Once the prep work looked done, she felt over it with her hand. It was just as she remembered.
He passed her a heavy power instrument with a large drill bit at the end. Using both hands, she somehow knew what to do with it. Holding the bone perforator tightly in one hand, she tested the tool by pressing the button with her other thumb. It quickly spun to life, working smooth and fast.
She pressed the drill bit onto the clean, shiny skull at just the right spot. Giving the button a squeeze, the bit spun fast, digging into the bone. The surgeon rinsed warm irrigation fluid over the area until there was a slight plunge. Wiggling the device a bit, she pulled it back out, took a breath, and repeated the procedure. She followed the same routine four times. Once she had pushed completely through, she was ready to wash the area with warm irrigating fluid of her own. She felt with her fingertip the firm, healthy tissue that was waiting for her.
“Doctor Kato? Are you ready?” someone asked her again. A different voice. Familiar.
“Huh?” she said back, trying to open her eyes. “I’ve already started.”
“I think you dozed off for a few minutes.” It was Jerome. He was standing over her at the side of the bed, casting a shadow.
She balled her hands into fists. “What do you want?”
“Mister Melendez would like to see you.”
Once reality settled in, June relaxed her hands and sat up on the edge of the bed. “Crap. I think I was dreaming.”
She rubbed her face, and then remembered she was wearing only a robe. It might’ve been okay to run down the hall in her robe if there were no men around, but not with the current arrangements. Closing herself in the bathroom, she washed her face, pinched her cheeks, put on a bit of lipstick, ignored replacing the eyeliner, fluffed her hair, and put a tiny dot of gardenia perfume on her chest. She found clean clothes, not so classy but comfortable.
While she dressed, she rethought her assessment of Jerome’s duties. Maybe he got the assignment of transporting someone from one place to another, rather than just being the bigger and brawnier of the team. But she didn’t care about the answer right then. She had naptime cobwebs to push aside and a date to finish. She didn’t bother with shoes when she went to the door, Jerome right behind.
“Why do I feel like I’m being fed to the lion?” June said, reaching for the door latch.
Just as she got her hand on it, Jerome stopped her.
“Wait,” whispered Jerome.
June stepped aside and let Jerome go to the door. He peeked out the peephole before turning to face her. “Leopold was supposed to have this talk with you earlier but he never had the chance. If anything should happen, we’ll need to use code names in case our communications channels are compromised.”
“What, like nicknames for each other?”
He nodded. “Leopold would be known as Whistles, and I would be called Happiness. But if something should happen, do exactly as you are told by either me or Leopold. Understand?”
“You choose those?”
“Understand?” he repeated.
“Yeah, fine. But I seriously doubt…”
“Let me clue you in on something, Doctor. Just between you and me, if shit hits the fan, Mister Melendez is our client, not you. Mostly, you’d be on your own.”
In the hallway walking toward another suite, June asked, “If the two of you are Whistles and Happiness, what name have you given Jack?”
“You don’t need to know,” Jerome said. “It changes every day.”
“Okay, so who am I today?”
“Chickadee.”
June looked at him after she got the answer. “Oh really?”
“Nothing personal,” he told her, straight-faced.
Jerome opened Suite Three’s door to find Jack standing there. Leopold stood next to him. While June lingered at the door waiting for a prompt on what to do, Jerome went into the room to stand at the end of a short hallway. Jack smiled and stepped back into the middle of the room.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. I had some work to finish,” Jack said to June.
June went in right past Jerome and Leopold. At first glance, she could tell it was a mirror image of her suite. “Where are all the busy people in uniforms with computers and headsets talking on satellite link-ups solving Earth’s crises?” she asked.
“Soon enough, if everything goes well in the next few months.”
“I can’t talk to the Russian President?”
Jack smiled. “Maybe later.”
They looked at each other from a full step apart.
“Thanks, guys,” Jack said to Jerome and Leopold. He shook Leopold’s hand. “I really appreciate you doing this.”
Leopold grunted. “A pleasure, Jack. As always.”
Jack went to his room door and opened it. “We’ll be fine.”
“Mr. Melendez…” started Jerome.
“Both you and Leopold have secured the room and floor, yes?” he said quietly.
“Yes, sir.”
“And there is another room next door, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well?”
“One of us will be outside the door at all times if you need anything, Mr. Melendez,” Jerome said, stiffly. He turned to leave and Leopold followed, one final glance at June. Those eyes again.
Jack shut the door on both of them. He turned his attention back to June.
“So…” she said, feeling a little lost for words.
“Is your room comfortable?” he asked.
She kept her eyes on him. “It’s great. Too big. What am I supposed to do with all the space?”
“Anything you want. Have you looked in the refrigerator yet?”
“Wasn’t hungry.”
He went to his. Opening the small household-sized fridge, she was surprised that it was well stocked. Milk for cereal, cream for coffee, butter and jams, fruits and vegetables for snacking or even cooking. On the top were several packet
s of instant ramen. Far too much for just a weekend.
“You have the same in yours,” he said.
June opened the freezer. There were two tubs of ice cream inside. One carton was mint chip, her favorite. The other was rocky road.
“Okay, so how’d you know I like mint chip?” she asked with a smile, closing the freezer door again.
“You mentioned it once.”
She took a step closer to him. “Oh? When?”
“When I was still in hospital in Balboa. There was no reason for you to keep coming for visits, but every Saturday, there you were. Well, one time you said you were going to stop for ice cream on your way home. I asked what kind, and you said mint chip.” His smile had drifted away while he explained. “I got it right, didn’t I?”
“Yes, it seems your memory is intact, sir,” she said, hoping the doctor-like formality of it sounded playful. She took one last step, putting herself directly in front of him. “Maybe I should proceed with the rest of your neurological evaluation now.”
“There isn’t much you haven’t examined.”
“There are still one or two autonomic responses that I could check,” she said.
“Which are?”
“You’ll find out.” She felt a little warm, almost hot, over-dressed for the moment. Her arms ached, wanting to hold him. “Or maybe we’ll find out at the same time.”
Once she saw his smile, she leaned in, reaching her arms around him. In her bare feet, she wasn’t as tall as he was, her face only reaching to his shoulder. It felt good there, and taking a deep breath, could tell he had showered in the time since dinner.
His arms were around her, one staying at the small of her back, while the other slid up to her neck, and then to her head. She looked into his eyes, and couldn’t wait any longer.
“Jack…” was all she could whisper before their mouths met.
He held the embrace. When they separated again, they agreed on ice cream and television for a while. By the time she got back to him on the couch, with both cartons and two spoons in her hands, he had the television tuned to a Spanish language international news show.
Ratio: A Leopold Blake Thriller (A Private Investigator Series of Crime and Suspense Thrillers) Page 10