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.”
“Well, this puts a new kink in the first date deal.” Rachel sighed. “There’s nothing like having my own personal investigation staff running info on potential suitors.”
“See, Tim, it’s not registering.” Grace told her partner with a knowing look. “Kimmy’s panties are wet already thinking about danger boy in there.”
“Grace!” Rachel shoved the now laughing agent against Tim, who steadied her while shaking his head in commiseration with Rachel.
“Sorry…did…did I say that out loud?”
“I need to finish my drink.” Rachel walked toward the bar. “Thanks for the report. Feel free to leave the moment you get your book back, bitch.”
“I’m having a Margarita no matter how offended your sensibilities are.” Grace yanked Tim along with her.
Nick watched the trio’s return with some concern. Rachel was at least a few paces in front of the agents as if she were trying to outdistance them. He stood up and pulled the chair out next to him. Rachel smiled at him crookedly and sat down, taking a gulp of her drink. Nick handed the book to Grace. The waitress came over right after the Marshalls sat down.
“I’ll have a Margarita.”
“Make it two,” Tim added.
“So, Nick, where do you get your material for the novels? They’re so realistic. Diego always knows exactly what should be done at every instant and he’s so matter of fact about it. Doesn’t your agent or editor complain about him not having any real conflict?”
“Not bad, Grace.” Nick smiled, as their waitress returned with the Margaritas. “You must know a little about the publishing business. That was one of the hurdles I had to overcome. They liked the writing but complained how one dimensional it was. I explained one of the traits a world class assassin would have is the skill to foresee every possible scenario on a job. It would be idiotic to have him stumbling from one situation to another as if he were Peter Sellers in a ‘Pink Panther’ movie.”
“The details do sell the character,” Tim piped in. “When Grace loaned me Diego’s Way, I figured it would be one of those thrillers with James Bond type action. Instead, it read as if an assassin kept a diary with every gruesome detail. A third of the way through the book I’m rooting for Diego to pull off the hit, collect the money, and return to his place in Venice.”
“Yeah, and the way you describe his life in Venice…that whole other life he leads in complete obscurity,” Grace added. “I like how you handle his sex life too. It’s realistic and pretty sad. If Diego ever got too involved with anyone, his life would be in jeopardy.”
“I appreciate the feedback,” Nick said with some surprise. “Other than my agent urging me to throw contrived obstacles in Diego’s path, romance is the second most complained about aspect. I have it in there but romantic ties have to be handled with the utmost care.”
“This assassin of yours.” Rachel looked into Nick’s eyes. “Does he kill people indiscriminately? I mean…is he a real bad guy?”
“He kills people for a living,” Nick answered without turning away, noting Rachel had finished off her drink already. “Because of what he does, I think he would have to be classified as a bad guy.”
“Diego kills bad guys though,” Grace argued as if she were defending the character, having downed her Margarita already. “He takes hits where a bad guy orders a hit on another bad guy. It’s not like he’s out mowing down regular folk.”
“Whatever made you start writing a book series about an assassin?” Rachel asked.
“You -”
“Can I get you folks anything else?” The waitress had returned, having spotted empty glasses on the table during her rounds.
“I’ll have another,” Grace held up her glass.
“Same here.” Rachel handed her empty glass to the waitress.
“Maybe we should get some appetizers too,” Nick suggested, hearing a slight slur in Rachel’s words.
“No, we’ll be eating dinner soon anyway,” Rachel replied.
“I’ll have one more.” Tim drank the last of his Margarita and put his glass on the waitress’s tray.
“Since we are having dinner together after all, would you and Tim like to join us, Grace?”
“Sure, that sounds -”
“Don’t you and Tim have a party to go to?” Rachel asked innocently, while staring laser beams at Grace, who grinned and shook her head.
“No, Kimmy, Tim and I canceled out already. We’d love to have dinner with you two.”
“Oh, wonderful,” Rachel said without enthusiasm. “Nick, why did you decide on writing a series with an assassin as the main character?”
“I was always into action/adventure books and movies, even as a kid. I really liked the James Coburn movie series where he played a super suave secret agent named Flint. Have any of you seen the series? Flint was always two or three steps ahead and super slick. Using the same template, Diego formed in my head.”
“I’ll put those Coburn movies on my list of ones to see,” Grace said. “It’s neat hearing where a writer’s ideas come from first hand. We thought maybe you were basing the books on real life experience.”
“Funny you should say that.” Nick chuckled appropriately, pretending he thought Grace was making a joke instead of going on a fishing expedition. “I tell everyone who asks me that very thing. Usually I get laughs.”
The waitress arrived with their fresh drinks.
“I’m getting hungry,” Nick announced as he sensed Grace was going to continue with her questioning. “Why don’t we take our drinks into the dining area?”
No one objected, and the four were soon seated in the restaurant area. After ordering their dinners, Nick quickly warded off more questions with a stream of his own.
“How long have you all been friends?”
“About a year,” Grace answered. “Kim waitressed for us a couple times and we hit it off.”
“Are you and Ted married?”
“No, we work together,” Ted cut in before Grace could answer.
“Oh, where do you two work?” Nick launched ahead.
“We work together out of the Federal Courthouse in Sacramento,” Grace filled in quickly. “Luckily, our work doesn’t involve a commute thanks to the computer age.”
“Nice,” Nick said. “I don’t envy any of you three. I hate the heat.”
“How long are you planning to hang around Pleasanton?”
“Probably another day. I’ll make the trip up here again whenever a plot line requires it.”
“Then your assassin will be killing someone in the US this time?”
“Not that I don’t trust you implicitly, but I can’t divulge the plot of a work in progress,” Nick answered, patting Rachel’s hand.
“Of course,” Rachel nodded her head in understanding. “I don’t know much about -”
The waitress arrived with their orders. Dinner proceeded with little conversation other than small talk. Nick insisted on picking up the tab for meals and drinks.
“You had some very strong drinks,” Nick mentioned to Rachel as they left the restaurant area. “Did the food and coffee help, or would you like me to drive you home?”
“I’ll be fine.” Rachel smiled at Nick. “Thanks for the offer though. You can walk me to my car if you want.”
“I want. It was nice meeting both of you,” Nick told Grace and Tim as the four walked toward the Marriott’s front exit together. “When I get back up here, maybe we can do this again.”
“I’d like that,” Grace chirped in immediately. “Knowing a famous author is so cool.”
“You are such a groupie,” Tim needled his partner with over-enthusiastic zeal.
“Don’t let those two Margaritas you downed make your mouth write a check your ass can’t cash, Sparky,” Grace fired back, eliciting laughter as they cleared the entranceway.