Time To Kill (Witness Security Book 2)

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Time To Kill (Witness Security Book 2) Page 10

by Jamie Hill


  * * *

  Nick kicked the counter at the bus depot. They’d shown Charlie’s picture on Jordan’s phone to each of the booking attendants and one recalled selling him a ticket to LA. That bus had left an hour ago. Jordan was on the phone with Evan discussing their next plan of attack.

  She held her phone to her stomach to block the speaker and turned to Nick. “He wants us to catch a flight to LA and rent another car there.”

  He nodded. “That’s what we talked about doing.”

  She scrunched up her face. “We could drive it, you know. The thought of another flight doesn’t thrill me.”

  Nick whipped out his phone and started Googling directions. “The bus trip is about twenty-four hours. Driving takes roughly sixteen.” The thought of a sixteen hour road trip didn’t exactly thrill him.

  “We’d have plenty of time. I’ll sleep while you drive and you can sleep while I drive.”

  He kept searching. “Flight time is two hours.” He looked at her. “Two hours, Jo. Why spend sixteen hours in the car when we can fly it in two?”

  “You like road trips. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  “I must have lost it somewhere between ‘men are pigs’ and ‘2.5 kids’, because things sure as hell went downhill from there.”

  With a definite scowl she put the cell back up to her ear. “Book us two seats on the next flight and text me the details, will you? We’ll head to the airport now.” She ended the call and pocketed her cell. “Let’s go.”

  “Bossy,” he muttered, and headed to the Jeep. He unlocked the doors and they climbed in.

  “You can be such a dick, you know that?” She fought with her seatbelt.

  He suspected she’d rather be fighting with him. “I do, because you remind me at least once a day. Lucky for me, it seems to be happening oftener now. So I really won’t forget.”

  Jordan could have shot lightning bolts from her eyeballs. “Just drive.”

  He raised his hands. “Going. You want me to stick to the roads or should I Chitty Chitty Bang Bang it and try to make the car fly?”

  He thought her head might explode. Before she could spout off, he slammed the Jeep into gear and headed back to the airport.

  At the rental car lot, they proceeded to remove their weapons and pack them up again, Jordan muttering the whole time. “Wouldn’t have to fuck with this if we’d just driven.”

  He zipped his bag and swung it out of the vehicle. “Sixteen hours in a car with you? I’d want to slit my wrists halfway there.”

  She grabbed her bag and forced the Jeep hatch down. “I’ve got a nail file if you need some help with that.”

  Nick winced as she slammed the hatch shut. “You don’t have to bang that thing. It’s automatic, just press the fucking button.”

  Jordan made a face as she passed him. “Cabron. You’re right. I don’t have to bang anything I don’t want to. No banging here, that’s for sure.”

  He shook his head. “Women.”

  “Women?” She glanced back at him with disbelief. “You’re the one who’s lost your sense of fun and adventure. We could have made this a grand ol’ road trip. Now here we are, checking our luggage again and winging it to LA. I fucking hate flying commercial.”

  “Get over it, princesa. We’ll be there in two fucking hours, remember?”

  “Oh, I remember. Then we’ll have twenty hours to sit and wait for Charlie to show up. That’ll be a barrel of fucking fun.”

  Nick raised his brows. “Where’s your sense of adventure?” He strode past her and opened the door to the rental office. An older couple was leaving and Jordan nearly bowled them over.

  “Oh! Sorry.” She stopped short, and then didn’t seem to know what to say after that. She stepped around them and went in.

  Nick smiled at the folks apologetically. “I’m so sorry, please excuse my wife. We just got bad news. Her poodle was hit by a car and we have to cancel our vacation to Fiji.”

  The woman appeared horrified. “That’s horrible! I’m so sorry! Please give her our best, and tell her as bad as it seems now, time and prayer will take care of everything.” She placed a hand on Nick’s forearm and squeezed.

  He smiled and patted her hand. “Thank you so much. God bless you.” He allowed them to exit then joined Jordan at the counter where the clerk was finishing their paperwork.

  “That’s all we need, you’re good to go. Thank you for choosing Friendly Rentals,” the woman said.

  Jordan stomped off.

  Nick smiled at the clerk. “Thanks so much. Have a nice day.” He followed Jordan into the airport. “You want to take it easy? I’m not sure these people can handle your spreading anymore sunshine around.”

  Ignoring him, she checked her phone. “Our flight leaves in less than an hour. Let’s check our bags then I’d like to find a ladies’ room and freshen up.”

  “You’re the bossy one. I mean, you’re the boss.”

  She didn’t speak again as they found their gate, checked their bags and retrieved their boarding passes. They each used the facilities and when they met up again the flight was boarding.

  The flight attendant on board glanced over the crowded plane. “I’m not sure we have two seats left together. I could ask—”

  Jordan pressed past her. “This is perfect, thanks.” She wedged into a middle seat, sitting between two businessmen.

  The attendant looked at Nick questioningly. “The other seat is right back there.”

  He cast Jordan one last glance then told the woman, “The further away the better. Thanks very much.” His was also a middle seat. A teenager with several facial piercings had the window seat, and a woman old enough to be his grandmother was on the aisle.

  “Excuse me.” He scooted in front of her and sat.

  “Hello.” The grey haired woman smiled at him. “Looks like we’re going to be seatmates. I’m Marjorie.”

  Nick nodded at her as he fastened his seatbelt. “Raphael. Pleasure to meet you.”

  “Raphael! What an exotic name! Are you Italian?”

  He pulled out his phone, connected the ear buds and made a show of inserting them. “No, but my mother thought I was an angel. Now if you’ll excuse me, I get airsick if I don’t drown out all noise with music. You wouldn’t want me to get airsick.” He shook his head apologetically. “Not pretty.”

  “Oh! Of course.” She looked away.

  Nick leaned his head back and closed his eyes. It was going to take all of the two hour flight and every Kenny Chesney song on his phone to calm him down after the last confrontation with Jordan. She was purposely putting up walls, and while he understood it, that didn’t make it easier.

  It’d started the minute he mentioned children. They’d joked about it years ago, after she’d read a study which said the average family had 2.5 kids. They’d shared lots of laughs trying to figure out how that half kid thing worked. Apparently, the subject was too raw to joke about now.

  He hated knowing he’d hurt her that deeply, all those years ago. If he could go back and change things, he would in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, life didn’t work that way.

  She’d lashed out at him, and in an effort to give her something else to be angry about, he’d fueled the fire. He still knew which buttons to push to irritate the hell out of her. And he wasn’t sure that knowledge was a good thing.

  A short while later, Nick opened his eyes cautiously. The teenager was sleeping against the window and Marjorie was engrossed in a book. He looked ahead a few rows and spotted Jordan, who seemed to be chatting up her seatmates. Both men appeared to be hanging on every word.

  Pangs of jealousy stung him but he tamped them down. Jordan knew he was behind her. She was pushing buttons herself. He closed his eyes again and tried to catch a nap. It might be the last chance he’d get for a few hours.

  Sleep eluded him, but the flight went quickly and soon they were disembarking at LAX. In the throng of people at the gate he searched for Jordan, hoping she wasn’t foolish en
ough to proceed to baggage claim without him. He spotted her looking for him, but once they saw each other she pretended like she wasn’t.

  Nick approached her. “How was your flight?”

  “Quite enjoyable. How about yours?”

  Marjorie passed them and patted his arm. “Looks like you made it, Raphael.”

  “Yep, I made it. Thanks.” He turned away from her quickly.

  Jordan blinked. “Raphael? Are you kidding me? You’re nobody’s angel.”

  He grinned. “What? I suppose you told your seatmates your real name? I hope not, because whatever you said, they seemed to be taking notes.” They began walking toward baggage claim.

  “Were you watching me?”

  “You were in front of me. I couldn’t help but see you unless I closed my eyes.”

  “Sure. Right.” She shook her head.

  They continued walking on what seemed to Nick like a mile long trek to the other end of the airport. Twenty minutes later, the baggage began filtering down the conveyer belt.

  One of her seatmates grabbed his case and walked by, smiling at her. “Enjoy your Mary Kay Cosmetics conference, Genevieve. I hope you win the pink car this year.”

  “Thanks, Rob. Have a nice visit with your family.” She turned back to see Nick staring at her. “What?”

  “Genevieve? Mary Kay Cosmetics? Ay Dios mio! And I was worried about you blowing your cover.”

  She smiled. “I still got it. You don’t need to worry about me, mister.” She snagged her bag as it came around. “There’s yours.”

  Nick retrieved his case and they once again headed toward the car rental kiosks.

  Jordan glanced at the flyers as they waited in line. “I want a sports car. Something jazzy and red. A little two-seater, perhaps.”

  “Sure. Whatever you say.” He moved ahead in the line.

  “I’m driving this time. I’m sick of you thinking you’re the only one who knows how to drive. I’ll have you know, I’ve been driving the whole time you were gone, without one accident, by the way. So I’m driving the sports car.”

  He stared straight ahead. “Whatever you say.”

  “Jazzy and red. I don’t care what make it is.”

  Nick reached the counter and spoke with the agent. “Hi there. We need a SUV. Black or silver if possible. The lady doesn’t care what make.”

  “Yes sir.” The clerk punched buttons on her computer. “We have a silver Ford Expedition available.”

  “That’ll be perfect.”

  “I’ll need your driver’s license and a credit card.”

  He turned to Jordan. “Go ahead, if you’re driving.”

  She made a face at him and stomped off.

  Nick smiled and handed over the requested cards.

  In the parking lot, they once again piled their luggage in the back and retrieved their guns. He tucked his into its holster and smiled as Jordan ranted.

  “A silver SUV? Great. You’re a real one-trick pony, Nick. Boring. Ho hum.”

  “I considered the sports car, I really did. But there’s no way we could do it in a two-seater. Believe me, I know, I’ve tried. The gear shift is totally in the way.”

  “You are an arrogant ass!” She slapped his arm.

  “Hey! Gunshot, remember?” Nick grabbed his arm.

  She scowled. “Whiner.”

  “I’m not whining. I just hope you didn’t reopen the wound. I’d hate to spend another couple of hours in the ER.”

  Jordan’s face turned red. “Oh shit. I didn’t think of that. Are you okay?”

  He grinned. “Other arm. Gotcha.” He darted out of reach as she came swinging at him again. “Truce. Are you driving or am I? I expect we’re going to encounter at least eight lanes, if not ten, leaving LAX.”

  Jordan scowled and climbed into the passenger seat. “Just drive, cabron. I’m a better navigator than you anyway. I’ll get us to the storage facility.”

  He entered the car and fastened his seatbelt, then paused to adjust the seat and mirrors. The afternoon sun was setting and he donned his sunglasses. “I’ll have you know I’ve been navigating the whole time I’ve been gone without one accident, by the way.”

  “Sabelotodo.” Jordan stared out the window then slipped her own sunglasses on. Pulling out her phone, she typed in a few strokes then said, “You’re going to take right on Sepulveda Boulevard when we get out of the airport.”

  He smiled. “Sepulveda Boulevard. I like the sounds of that.” He navigated the roads and finally said, “Did I ever tell you my mom always called me sabelotodo? Smarty pants. Apparently her step-father spoke a lot of Spanish. Some of it stuck, I guess. It was friendly when she said it.”

  “It’s still friendly. When I don’t want to be nice I call you cabron.”

  “So did she. When she started drinking we ran the gamut of names. Nino pequeno, little boy, diablito, little rascal, pequeno demonio, little devil, malcriado, little brat. We eventually worked our way to cabron, or bastard.”

  Jordan inhaled. “I’m sorry, Nick.”

  “It’s okay. When we hit that particular name I knew it was time to vamoose. I’d get the hell out before she found my father’s belt and started whaling on me.”

  The silence from the other side of the car was deafening. He realized he’d dropped a pretty big bombshell on her, but he hoped in some way it might help explain his aversion to bringing more children into the world.

  She finally sighed. “I’m sorry. I never knew.”

  “Of course you didn’t. I never wanted you to know. I got out, and I’m okay. Or mostly okay. You might debate that.”

  Jordan stared straight ahead as he drove. “You never told me about your crappy childhood. That could explain why you never wanted kids. You didn’t think I had a right to know?”

  Nick sighed. “I just didn’t think, Jo. It wasn’t something I wanted to talk about.” He glanced at the road signs. “Where am I going from here?”

  She looked at her phone. “Straight to Venerable Avenue.”

  “How far do we have to go?”

  “Thirty miles. Not knowing the area, that could take thirty minutes to an hour.”

  He maneuvered through traffic and chuckled. “That’s being optimistic. I believe we hit rush hour. We have to set our clocks back two hours, remember?”

  “Yeah. Okay. Whatever the hell time it is, I’m hungry.”

  “Let’s find the storage facility first. We can get some food and set up surveillance after that.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  He managed to find U-Serve Storage in about forty-five minutes. There were no fences or gates, but there were security cameras. He drove around the block several times until they got the lay of the land, and found the best spot to observe unit 328.

  Jordan glanced around. “I don’t see anyone else setting up camp around here.”

  Nick shook his head. “They wouldn’t know to expect him. Somehow, they’d have to have eyes and ears in the area to know if anyone showed up. I’m betting they paid off the facility manager to alert them if anyone shows up for 328.”

  “Maybe.” She glanced at her phone. “We’ve got hours before the bus is even supposed to arrive. Let’s get some food and come back.”

  “Agreed. What are you hungry for? We’re by the ocean so we could get some really fresh seafood. They say white wine goes best with shrimp and clams, but I don’t think you can go wrong with a nice Pinot Noir.”

  Jordan blinked. “I’m disturbed that you even know that. I saw a Mickey D’s a couple of blocks back.”

  “That works, too.” He smiled at her and headed in that direction.

  They ordered cheeseburgers and fries and diet Cokes and ate staring at the storage facility.

  “This is going to get old, real fast,” Jordan commented.

  “We can play Scrabble on our phones.”

  She shook her head. “You always kick my ass at Scrabble. There’s a new game app called ‘The Test’. You can find out how much you
know about someone.”

  He chuckled. “No, thanks. We should steer clear of that if at all possible.”

  They ended up listening to music and he kept watch while Jordan slept. He tried not to look at her. Even snoring, she looked sexy as hell.

  She woke a few hours later and rubbed her eyes. “Wow. Sorry. I didn’t realize how tired I was.” She glanced at him. “You must be beat. We should run back to the restaurant. I’ll use the john and grab some coffee. Then I can watch while you sleep.”

  “Maybe.” Nick had his eye on a man wearing dark jeans and a black hoodie. “I’m wondering what this dude is up to.”

  Jordan peered out the window. “You think that’s Charlie? Has it been long enough, I mean, could the bus even be here yet?”

  He shrugged. “Depends on how many stops they made. It could be.”

  They both watched the shadowy figure.

  “Have you seen his face? Or his hair?” she asked.

  “Nope. But he’s being stealthy, and he’s nosing around our unit. Curious.”

  “Curiouser and curiouser,” she agreed.

  The man reached for the padlock on 328 and fiddled with it.

  “That’s got to be him,” she murmured.

  “I think so, too. You said there were only two keys. He has one and the feds have the other.”

  Jordan put a hand on her door.

  “We should take a minute and put our gear on.”

  She waved a hand. “It’s just Charlie. Let’s nab him and get out of here.”

  “He’s gonna want that damn memory stick.”

  “Yeah. Oh well, I guess we can take a few more minutes and let him grab it. Since we’ve come all this way.”

  Nick smiled. “It’d be the nice thing to do.”

  They headed across the street.

  “I’m not particularly in the mood to be nice,” Jordan muttered. “I need to pee and I haven’t had my coffee. But I don’t want to do this again next week. If we let him find the stupid stick maybe he’ll be happier back at home.”

  “Maybe.” Something felt off to Nick. The man was still toying with the lock. If he had the key, he should have been inside by now. “Jo, wait.”

 

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