Nick laughed, pointing at Jean appreciatively. “You’re all right, kid. I’m sorry things aren’t as easy in real life, or as straightforward.”
He spread margarine on the toast and doctored the tea up as he remembered from his own childhood. After cutting the toast diagonally, he placed the tea and toast in front of Jean on saucers.
“Better sip the tea, Jean. Make sure it’s perfect or the whole tea and toast thing will be ruined.”
She sipped the tea and made an audible ‘ah’ sound in satisfaction. “Yep, just right.”
Nick made more toast and filled his cup, joining Jean for breakfast with toast and coffee. She made a face as he dunked his toast in the coffee and gobbled it up.
“That’s gross! You’re supposed to dunk the toast in tea.” She giggled.
“Why you little elitist.” He reached over toward Jean as if to swat her, only to earn a no nonsense warning growl from Deke, who had appeared instantly at Jean’s side. “One of these days you won’t be with your bodyguard. You’ll be sorry then.”
“I still like you, Nick,” Jean petted Deke. The dog started lapping at the crumbs and bits of margarine on Jean’s hand. “Can I give Deke a piece of toast?”
“Sure, if he’ll eat it. He already scarfed a whole can of dog food this morning.”
Deke gulped the toast down as if he hadn’t eaten in a month.
“Wash those yucky hands after you finish giving Deke his treat, young lady.”
“Nick,” Jean said suddenly, sipping her crumb-filled tea. “How come you’re allowed to kill bad guys?”
Nick grinned. “Uh…actually, I’m not allowed to kill bad guys. You should know by now that no one is allowed to kill bad guys. They had tough childhoods. Their mommies and daddies beat them. Their self-esteem was lowered from the time they were in diapers. No one wants them to be bank presidents. People flash devil’s horns on their heads when they get their pictures taken. Animals growl at them. Pigeons decorate their cars. Even their -”
“What’s going on in here?” Rachel asked from the doorway, seeing Jean laughing raucously as Nick barked out his bad guy excuse list, counting them off on his fingers.
“Nick was…” Jean suppressed her laughter. “Nick was explaining why no one’s allowed to kill bad guys even though they keep trying to kill us.”
“Oh wonderful.” Rachel gave him a malevolent look, geared to make his toes and testicles curl up simultaneously. “Perhaps it would be better if you left off on teaching Jean from the psycho training manual for now.”
“At least Nick does something about bad guys!” Jean turned on Rachel. “Maybe if Nick kills enough of ‘em, we won’t have to run anymore, Mom. I’m tired of being scared all the time. I want the bad guys to be scared!”
Deke barked, lending his support. A few toast crumbs exited his mouth. Rachel’s shoulders sagged. Jean climbed off her chair and walked over to hug her around the waist.
“Don’t be mad at Nick. We weren’t really talking about killing. Mostly, we were talking about toast and tea.”
“I know.” Rachel held Jean’s head to her gently. “I’m cranky from sleep deprivation. Sorry, Nick, I’m just jealous from hearing you two yucking it up in here. What’s this about toast and tea?”
“Nick ate toast and tea when he was a kid, just like me. He even slurps up the tea and crumbs same as I do.”
“Eeeewwww!” Rachel exclaimed, making a face. “There’s an image I could do without.”
Jean laughed and ran back to her seat. She held up her crumb-filled tea for Rachel’s disgusted reaction, and then sipped it noisily. Nick followed with his crumb-filled coffee.
“I think I’ll just have coffee,” Rachel announced, walking to the coffee maker with her left hand held up to the side of her face like a horse’s blinder, preventing the sight of crumb tea and coffee slurping on the way by.
“Jean reminded me of her scheduled get-together today,” Nick said, when Rachel was seated at the table across from Jean. “I think we should introduce ourselves to the mom, and have a chat.”
“No, Nick…don’t even -” Rachel began, a horrified look on her face.
“Calm down.” He cut her off with some disappointment, but understanding her leap in logic. “I meant a simple chat to be sociable.”
“Oh… Sorry.”
“God, Mom, what’d you think he meant, kill her?” Jean clucked, while shaking her head at Rachel. “I’m done. Thanks for breakfast, Nick. I’m going to take a shower and get ready.”
“You’re most welcome, my dear.” He watched Jean run off. He could feel Rachel looking at him appraisingly. “I think your daughter likes me better too.”
“Yeah, right! That’s because she doesn’t know you like I do. It’s all fun and games until someone gets their nose bone driven into their brain.”
“Ouch.”
“I hope Suzan isn’t a Diego fan,” Rachel whispered sideways at Nick, as Jean ran ahead to her new friends’ door. “Your beard is coming in nicely, but Brewster freaked me out.”
“I’m more worried about whether it was Brewster’s idea to come visit, or Suzan sending him to check us out. You said she acted strange at the pool when you told her we were renting one of the cabanas,” Nick replied in an equally hushed voice, glancing up at the noon day Las Vegas sun. “Damn, it’s hot out here.”
“Deke should be happy grinding his soup bone into dust rather than rearranging furniture today.”
“We won’t be long.” Nick grinned, thinking of Deke working over the soup bone on his kitchen floor.
Kelly and Garth opened the door before Jean reached it. Nick heard their mother admonishing them for answering the door without her. The kids’ laughter receded as they ran together away into the house. A mid-thirties brunette in blue shorts and a white blouse smiled at them from the doorway, opening it for Nick and Rachel. Nick watched the woman for any sign of recognition.
“Come in. I’m Suzan Benoit, and I believe you’ve already met my two children,” she greeted them, gesturing Nick and Rachel inside. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk more at the pool, Rachel. The guy my husband hired as security for us gets really obnoxious when we meet anyone new while my husband’s out of town.”
“No problem – this is my husband Roscoe.”
“Just call me Ross.” Nick shook Suzan’s hand.
“Would you like something to drink?” Suzan led them through the western ranch style house into her kitchen. “I have soda, iced tea, juice…”
“I’ll have a soda,” Rachel said.
“Iced tea sounds good,” Nick added. “We were wondering about Mr. Brewster. He came over to see us yesterday afternoon, mentioning he worked in security for your family. He asked us some questions about our stay in Las Vegas, and then left.”
“He actually stopped by to see you?” Suzan looked genuinely surprised, as she served the drinks, taking iced tea for herself. “Carl usually asks my husband if he should check someone out. I hope he didn’t upset you. Carl can be rather abrupt and a little scary.”
“Not at all,” Rachel put in immediately. “Mr. Brewster was very nice to us.”
“Good.” Suzan sounded relieved. “I’ll ask him about it Monday when he comes over. He has the weekends off, because we locals stay away from the crowds. Carl knows we don’t go anywhere on the weekends, other than the smaller restaurants and grocery stores away from downtown. My husband, Jim, has been getting more and more uneasy about the new gang conglomerate formed in the city called ‘Squad Up’. He says they don’t need a reason to shoot at someone. Gang members even fired into a gated community just for the hell of it.”
“Thanks for the warning. We’ll watch ourselves.”
“Rachel said you own a house over on Fort Bowie. It’s funny we haven’t run into each other before.”
“Actually, I’ve owned the house for quite a while, but only spend a couple weeks a year there,” Nick explained. “Do you have much gang activity around here?”
“No, not really, and the school near here is real nice. What do you do for a living, Ross?”
“I’m a troubleshooter for a large firm,” he answered, hurrying into the question he wanted answered. “What does your husband do?”
“He’s in the import/export business on both coasts, which is why he’s away a lot.”
