Pink Neon Dreams

by Pink Neon Dreams [Evernight] (mobi)

  Cecily put down her cell. “She’s coming.”

  “What time?”

  “Five-fourteen.”

  “It’s after three now,” Daniel said. “I’m taking a shower and then we’ll go. We’ve got a lot to do, chica.”

  Aware of the powerful musk they both emitted, she grinned. “I need a shower too, sugar. And then we’ll get whatever we need done including picking up Nia.”

  ****

  Two hours later, they waited in the main lobby at the Springfield-Branson Airport. Although Cecily asked what might happen if any FBI personnel happened to see them together and Daniel admitted it wouldn’t be the best thing, he refused to let her meet Nia alone.

  “We’re in this together,” he said. “And I’m not going to risk letting Tillman or some other gung-ho dickweed try to take you into custody.”

  If she weren’t in trouble up to her chin, Cecily would’ve objected on general principle, but at the moment she craved his protection, almost as much as she did his body. And she admitted if only to herself having someone take responsibility for her offered an appeal. Except for her mom during early childhood, it wasn’t something Cecily had experienced.

  “Thank you for being with me,” Cecily told Daniel.

  “At the airport?” he asked with an upraised eyebrow and a grin.

  “Here and in this whole mess,” she said. “If the information board is right, her plane’s here.”

  Although the lobby seemed small compared to the scale of Chicago’s O’Hare and the many other major airports she’d visited, it provided both space and comfort. When passengers funneled in, she spotted Nia and squealed. “There she is!”

  Without waiting, she sprinted over and hugged her cousin. Nia’s hair hung in dreadlocks and she wore a vivid yellow outfit. “I’m glad you’re here,” Cecily said. “I’ve missed your ass, girl but damn, I didn’t know I should’ve worn sunglasses.”

  “You look damn fine,” Nia said. “Bitch, don’t you dis my outfit. Yellow’s my color, girl and you know it. Where’s your guy? He can carry my bags for me.”

  “He’s not your servant,” Cecily said with sass. “But he’s the good looking one over there.”

  She pointed and when Nia followed her finger, she screeched. “Damn, he’s fine.”

  “And he’s mine,” Cecily said. She wasn’t joking now. “He’s off limits for you, Nia.”

  “All right,” her cousin said with pouted lips. “But tell me he’s got a brother just as sexy.”

  Aware she had no clue if he had one brother or a dozen, a sister or none, Cecily laughed and moved through the milling crowds toward Daniel with Nia trailing behind. She linked her arm through his to stake her claim. “Daniel, sugar, this is my cousin, Nia. Bitch, this is Daniel Padilla, best damn thing to happen to me in a long time.”

  After the pleasantries, Daniel retrieved Nia’s bags and they headed for his sedan. Nia pleaded a need to use the ladies room so the two women made a stop. “I’ll pick you up out front,” Daniel said.

  Once they entered the restroom and found it vacant, Nia turned to Cecily, hands parked on her hips. “Are you all right? He’s hotter than salsa, but you’re in deep shit and I’m worried.”

  “I’m fine,” Cecily said. “We’ve got it under control, Nia.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “One hundred percent, yeah, I am. I trust Daniel.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And I love him, too.” Saying aloud took courage and made it real. Now if she could just summon up the guts to tell Daniel, they’d be good.

  Nia shook her head. “That’s no surprise. I knew it. I read you like a book, cuz. Kind of fast work, though, isn’t it?”

  “Not really,” Cecily said. “We connected from the moment he walked into Pink Neon. I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”

  “I have and then I got over it, like the flu,” Nia said with a wicked grin. “Oh, don’t look at me like you want to carve me up. I’m happy for you if it’s real. I’ve had the worst luck with men so I’m suspicious.”

  “Don’t be.”

  “So what happens after this is over? Do you two ride off into the sunset together?”

  Cecily had wondered too. “I don’t know, but I’d like to be together, whatever, however.”

  “You’ve got it bad, don’t you?” Nia said with some sympathy. “Well, let’s go before he comes after us. He might put us in handcuffs or something.”

  Once they were in the car, Daniel offered to stop somewhere for a meal. Cecily, mindful they might run into someone from the local FBI office, suggested they wait until they reached Branson. “I’m not familiar here,” she said to explain.

  He nodded. “Neither am I,” he said. “Okay, we’ll wait.”

  After a meal at a crowded café along Branson’s busy Strip, Daniel drove them back to Cecily’s. Then, at his suggestion, Cecily drove Nia down to Pink Neon to show her cousin around. “Aren’t you coming with us?” she asked Daniel.

  “No,” he said. “I’ve got a couple of things to take care of first. I’ll meet you at the house later. And Cecily?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t freak out if I show up driving something different.”

  Her mouth opened to ask why, but he shook his head. “I’ll explain it later. No questions, querida.”

  Her sigh came up from the depths of her soul. “All right, be careful.”

  “I will,” he said. “And you do the same.”

  Although the boutique wasn’t open, she’d left the neon turned on so the pink track lighting glowed in the summer dusk. Above the front door the name ‘Pink Neon’ stood out bright. Nia clapped her hands with delight. “Looks pretty damn cool,” she said. “I love it.”

  “Wait until you see the inside,” Cecily said with a feigned enthusiasm she didn’t feel. On one level she longed to show off her pretty shop, but her current situation distracted her and she wondered where Daniel had gone.

  Ten minutes later, after Nia walked from one shelf to another, gasping and cooing with delight, she gave her cousin a basic rundown of how things worked. She showed her the cash register, the computer, and handed over the keys. “I didn’t open today at all, but you need to be here in the morning, early.”

  “I can handle it,” Nia said. “Shit, I think this will be a blast.”

  “I hope so,” Cecily said. “Let’s go home.”

  “Not so fast. I want to see some of the sights. It’s been a long time since I’ve been here.”

  The last thing Cecily wanted was to play tourist, but she gritted her teeth. “All right but you can go sightseeing on your own after I’ve left town. We’ll just hit some of the highlights.”

  Cecily drove her GTO up and down the Strip. She pointed out the half scale Titanic museum, replica of the ill-fated ocean liner, waved a hand toward Dolly Parton’s Dixie Stampede, and named off some of the bigger theaters. They killed more than an hour’s time gawking, twice as long as she’d wanted before Cecily headed home. She wanted Daniel, but instead she found an unfamiliar truck parked in front of her house. Anxiety exploded until she recalled what he’d said. Still uneasy, she parked and went inside, ready to know what he’d done—and why.

  Chapter Twelve

  He’d like to leave within the next twelve hours, but Daniel wasn’t sure it was possible. As soon as Cecily drove away in her bright red vintage car, he gathered up some of his gear and drove to the Strip. He sought a motel, a cheap one, but he avoided the one where he’d stayed before. Although he doubted they would remember him in a town where guests came and went daily, Daniel wanted somewhere where they would.

  The dump he selected didn’t even offer a name on their sign which read “ROOMS—CHEEP”. The rundown property suited his purpose, and he liked the fact guests had to drive through an arch to reach his room. The U-shaped units surrounded the central parking space on three sides and centered on an empty pool. Huge cracks marred the concrete and indicated why it wasn’t in
use, but Daniel figured it served as a monument to broken dreams, too. He paid for two weeks in a single room. When he carried some minimal baggage, stuff he wouldn’t need anywhere else, into the space, he winced. Mildew climbed a large part of the visible walls and two cockroaches scuttled into the shadows. A stale aroma combining rank piss and sour beer hung in the air. Ancient cigarette burns marred the battered dresser and he doubted the sheets had been changed in months. He tossed his bag onto the bed and put his work issue phone beside the television set.

  Daniel used his pay-as-you-go phone to call a number he’d lifted out of the pages of some free shopper paper at the airport. He expressed interest in the 1976 pickup truck advertised for sale and asked if he could get a ride to see it. At first, the woman who answered the phone sounded wary, but he charmed her into sending her son to pick him up. A sullen young man, face pocked with pimples, arrived fifteen minutes later. A half hour after that, Daniel exchanged cash for the pickup and drove away. At the first car wash he spotted, he scrubbed it and cleaned the interior as much as possible. A quick stop at a dollar store yielded sanitizing spray to kill any remaining gnarly bacteria and a cheap seat cover to hide the ugly tear on the passenger side.

  At Cecily’s, he did motor staples, checked the oil and fluids. Overall, for the cheap cash price, the truck appeared to be fairly sound. He thought it could make the trip to Texas without trouble and if not, he’d figure out something else.

  Daniel drove past Pink Neon, confirmed Cecily and her cousin were still inside, and then returned to her place. She wasn’t back yet so he let himself inside and poured a tequila shot. He tossed it back and savored the burn as it traveled to his gut. If he’d been alone, he would’ve followed it with more, but Daniel stopped with one.

  He needed all his wits to deal with the situation, he decided. Despite all the assurances he made Cecily, Daniel figured if he could pull this off without Cecily in custody, without any charges for either of them, hold onto his job, and keep them both alive, it’d take a miracle, the kind his mama prayed to the saints to deliver. Pray, Mamacita, pray, your son needs it now.

  Since his phone call, he imagined she was.

  When Cecily drove up, he watched from the window and saw her apprehension. Her expression changed when she remembered what he’d told her or so he believed. He opened the door to her and she came inside, her cousin on her heels. He hadn’t planned to show affection in front of Nia, but he couldn’t resist a quick embrace and a swift kiss. “How’d it go?” he asked.

  “Fine,” she said. “What’s with the truck?”

  “It’s part of the plan,” he said. Her eyes burned into his, curious and needy. “Sit down and I’ll explain everything to both of you.”

  Nia flopped into the sole arm chair, a match to the gold couch. Cecily sat down on the couch and after a moment’s hesitation, Daniel settled down at the opposite end. He needed to focus as he talked to them both and he couldn’t if he sat beside her.

  “Okay,” he said, feeling more like he briefed staff than shared his plan. “Nia, you need to drive Cecily’s car, keep the shop open, and otherwise just do your thing. Keep a low profile if you can, but the reason you’re here, besides keeping Pink Neon going for your cousin, is so maybe another agent won’t realize Cecily’s not around. Sooner or later, yeah, someone will, but it’ll buy us a little time if we’re lucky. Sound doable, Nia?”

  “You bet,” Nia replied. “I can handle it, easy. But will it work? I’m three shades darker than she is, always have been.”

  Despite their circumstances, Cecily beamed and Daniel’s heart melted to see her smile. “I don’t think most of these folks will notice,” she said. “Lots of tourists in and out of here and all they see’s a black gal.”

  Daniel nodded. “I agree. And I don’t think you’ll be in any danger. If the FBI tries to take you into custody under the belief you’re Cecily, all you have to do is show your ID and resolve it.”

  Nia frowned. “So what are you two doing while I’m playing store at Pink Neon?”

  He glanced at Cecily and asked a silent question with his eyes. Do you trust her completely? She seemed to understand and nodded. Daniel cleared his throat. “We’re heading to El Paso, Texas, to my mama’s house to get Cecily out of reach of both the FBI and whoever killed her ex-husband. Then we’re going to try to figure out what really happened to Bradford VI, who killed him, and see if we can’t get evidence to verify it. If things stay hot, we’ll head down to my abuela’s home in Mexico.”

  No one spoke for a moment and then Cecily scooted over beside him. “Okay, so what’s with the old truck parked out front?”

  “I bought it,” Daniel told her. “Its cover your ass time. I checked into a crappy no-name motel and left my work cell there because they can ping it or track location. I left one bag with shit I don’t need and the car, too. If Martin sends anyone looking for me, they’ll find the stuff. I’m hoping it throws them off the trail and slows down any search parties. Best case scenario is we’re back with evidence before anyone realizes we’re gone.”

  Cecily put her hand on his arm and gazed into his face with her soulful eyes, serious and almost sad. “And what’s the worst case one, sugar?”

  For starters, jail, death, dishonor. At a minimum, losing my job. But he wouldn’t share those dark thoughts with his lady. “Let’s hope we never need to figure it out, querida. You need to pack, casual clothes, jeans, t-shirts, nothing too flashy, comfortable shoes, anything you can’t live without except your phone. You need to leave it here in the house.”

  Her lips parted and he knew she’d protest, so he held up one hand. “I’ll get you a pay as you go phone, harder to trace. If you want, I’ll go get one right now. And bring plenty of cash if you have it, your purse, your driver’s license, passport, all that kind of stuff.”

  “How long will we be gone?”

  “As long as it takes,” Daniel said. He wished he had an answer to give Cecily.

  “When are we leaving?”

  He’d like to head out now, but it wasn’t practical. Both he and Cecily could use some rest before they made the grueling journey, one he estimated would take a minimum of eighteen hours and maybe as much as twenty, depending on how many stops they made and the weather. “Early,” he said. “Before daylight anyway so you’d better pack tonight. Leave out what you’re going to wear for in the morning.”

  Cecily frowned. “All right,” she said. “I better do it now. Are you ready to go?”

  “Always,” he answered.

  “Then I’ll go pack.”

  Daniel watched her go but made no move to rise from the couch. He admired the way she held her back stiff and straight, a no-nonsense pose. She’s got guts and courage. She’ll need both to see this thing through.

  Thirty minutes later, Cecily returned rolling a suitcase and dragging a duffel bag. He’d figured she’d have more baggage and asked, “Is this all?”

  “Yeah, sugar,” she said. “I crammed them full.”

  He lifted the duffel and groaned. “Damn, you weren’t kidding. It’s heavy.”

  “Do I need to take stuff out?”

  “No, its fine,” he told her. “Keep your purse and I’ll pack everything in the truck. Then we’ll go to bed.”

  After stowing his gear and her stuff in the bed of the truck, making sure it rode secure and wouldn’t shift during the long trip, Daniel came inside. Cecily and her cousin huddled together on the couch, deep in conversation, a serious one judging by their expression. Although he moved with a quiet step, Cecily became aware and glanced up. “Sugar, what now?”

  “Let’s get some sleep,” he said. His jaw ached where he’d clenched it tight with tension and stress. Both, combined with fatigue, delivered a dull headache too.

  Nia, quiet for some time, spoke up. “So who sleeps where?”

  “Shit,” Daniel said in a low voice. He hadn’t thought about sleeping arrangements, certain he’d share the only bed with Cecily. But he didn’t want
to assign Nia the sofa. “I guess I can take the couch.”

  Cecily rose. “Oh, no, sugar, I want you with me,” she said, eyes bright and intent. “If you sleep out here, so do I.”

  “Guess that leaves me the couch,” Nia said. She didn’t sound angry.

  “Are you sure?” Daniel asked.

  “Oh, yeah,” Nia said. “I’ll take over the bed after you two leave me in charge. I’m cool with that.”

  He laughed, more out of politeness than mirth. “Thanks, Nia.”

  “Don’t mention it,” she said. “Just get my cuz out of this mess.”

  “I’ll do my best,” he said. “Cecily, you ready to try to get some rest?”

  Two steps and she stood at his side. “Sure, sugar. I’m ready when you are.”

  A yawn stretched his sore jaw and he slid an arm around her waist. “Let’s go, then. I’m tired.”

  Without waiting for Cecily, Daniel headed into her bedroom, removed his shoes, and sank down on the bed. His headache expanded and he rested his head in his hands for a single moment and massaged his temples. Preoccupied, he failed to hear Cecily enter, but he caught a whiff of her perfume and looked up.

  “Does your head hurt?” she asked in her dark sugar voice. “Here, let me.”

  Her fingers, cooler than his, moved with light motions over his skin. Her touch created delicate circles, soothing and steady. Cecily stood in front of him, her breasts at eye level, and concentrated on what she did.

  “Damn, it feels good,” he said.

  “Does it help?”

  “Yeah,” he said, surprised. Although his headache didn’t vanish, it diminished enough to make a difference. “Thanks.”

  Cecily laughed, soft and low. “I’ll do you better than this,” she said. “Take off your shirt and lay down on your belly. I’ll give you a real massage.”

  His flesh tingled with anticipation but Daniel said, “You don’t have to, chica. You must be tired, too.”

  “I am,” she said. “But I want to do it for you. You’re tenser than I’ve ever seen you and you won’t sleep if you can’t relax.”