Creighton and Randi arrived at the warehouse’s expansive parking lot. He saw Randi sending a text message.
“Who’s that to?”
“My roommate. I’m telling her not to wait up for me.”
“That’s a good idea.”
She closed up the phone and set it down, then peered out the window. “Where are we? I thought we were going to your place?”
“I need to take care of something here first. Come on. I don’t want to leave you out here alone.”
“What are you talking about? What do you need to do here?”
He didn’t answer her, just opened his door. But as he did so, the cell phone in his pocket vibrated to life. He knew who it was right away. Only one person had this number. He retrieved the cell. “Yeah?”
“It’s time,” the electronically altered voice said. “We do it tonight.”
“What?” Creighton’s eyes danced over to Randi. “You can’t be serious.”
A pause. “You’re ready, aren’t you?”
“Of course I’m ready. But we were set up to do it during the day. I need at least a few hours to find her and-”
Randi folded her arms. “To find who?”
“Shh,” he said.
“Who’s there?” asked Shade.
“It’s nothing,” Creighton said. “Listen, I’m telling you, tonight’s no good. I don’t like being rushed. The plan was to pick her up on her way home from work-”
Randi put away her makeup, then zippered her purse shut and set it on her lap. “Pick up who, Neville?”
Creighton turned the phone away from his mouth and glared at her. “Just a minute,” he hissed.
“Things have changed,” Shade said. “We do it now. Hunter’s on the run. Don’t let me down.”
The phone went dead and Creighton realized it was too tough to jam it into his pocket while he was sitting down. He set it beside him, between the seats.
“What’s going on?” asked Randi.
Creighton rubbed his rough fingers together. It seemed he needed to make a decision. “Let me think.”
“It’s another girl, isn’t it?”
“Quiet.”
Creighton weighed his options. Randi… Cassandra… Randi
… Cassandra… who should he give this night to?
“Who is she?” Randi asked.
Then Creighton made his decision and started the car. “We’re not going to my place. Something’s come up.”
“Oh?”
“Get out.”
Randi looked at the weary warehouse district stretching to the ocean. “I’m supposed to get out here? You’re not dumping me out here in the middle of nowhere!”
Creighton let his voice become a two-by-four. “Get out of the car.” He reached across her, cranked open the passenger side door.
She cussed loudly as she scrambled to grab her things, and then swung her legs outside. “I could have given you a good time.” He put a hand on her back, pushed her out the door. She staggered to her feet. “You don’t know what you’re missing!” “Neither do you.” Before she could close her door, he stamped on the gas, jerking the car forward, using the momentum to slam the door shut.
In the rearview mirror he saw her kick at the tire of the car as he sped past her. She was shaking her arm at him, yelling.
For a moment he was tempted to go back for her, to see just how good a time Randi with an “i” might have provided him. But no.
He had a job to do for Shade, and if he stuck to the plan, then he would soon die happily ever after.
But before that, an FBI agent would die too.
But not quite so happily.
Creighton needed to pick up a few things. He wanted to break the speed limit but was careful to keep all the traffic laws on his way to his condo to pick up the darts and the dart gun Shade had given him to use.
After all, you can never be too careful.