“Gee, where was that count your blessings crapolla three hundred miles ago when I could have used a pick me up?”
“It looked like you were having the time of your life. We’ll check in separately again. I’m glad I had time to get a Colorado driver’s license for you. It makes checking into hotels a lot easier. This day and age, they need your life history even when you’re paying cash for the room.”
“I was surprised how fast you managed to get my false ID. How did you get the license, Nick, or is that need- to-know?”
“An old friend. We hadn’t seen each other in years. I have quite a few contacts across the country, but none I trust more than Jake. He does it professionally, so you can bet you’re listed in Colorado’s DMV as Jane Austin.”
“I liked the name you picked out.”
“I was surprised you’d read
“Not likely.” She shook her head slightly with obvious distaste. “I read
“My thoughts exactly.” Nick chortled in agreement.
“You must trust the false ID guy implicitly.”
“I saved his life in the first Gulf War when we were just kids. Jake doesn’t ask and he doesn’t tell. It’s the first time I’ve asked him for anything. You should have seen his face light up. We’ll go see him under better circumstances. He hasn’t been to Pacific Grove in over seven years. Jake has a wife and three kids. That’s why I didn’t want to have a big meet up. No one knows we’ve kept in touch. I have to keep it that way.”
“Does he know what you do?”
“Jake thinks I’m one of the good guys.”
“So, you lied to him.”
“Exactly.”
Chapter Sixteen
When they reached the Concordia Days Inn, Nick took Deke off to the hotel side. He played Frisbee with the dog for a half hour until Rachel and Jean were checked in. After noting what room they were given, he went in and asked for the room adjoining theirs. Although the clerk did a double take when asked for a room next to the one he had just rented out, he completed the transaction quickly under Nick’s Roscoe Weatherby card.
“I’m friends with the lady and little girl who were just in to register,” Nick explained, when the clerk gave him the room electronic keys.
“Oh.” The clerk smiled. “I was wondering. Anyway, we have a very nice Continental breakfast served in our dining area every morning. Enjoy your stay, Mr. Weatherby.”
“Thank you.”
Nick rejoined Rachel and Jean, who were allowing Deke to lap up a bowl of water after his Frisbee exercise in the dusky light. It was still nearly ninety degrees outside. Nick sent them ahead to the rooms while he parked the Escalade closer. Jean decided the pool and hot tub were preferable to dinner, so Nick put on his swim trunks and shorts hurriedly. He went out to play more with Deke while Rachel and Jean were getting ready. He put Deke inside with food and water. He then ordered soda and beer inside the hotel restaurant.
With the beverages in separate ice buckets, Nick entered the pool area where Rachel and Jean were already swimming. He watched Rachel in her black bikini glide smoothly from one end of the pool to the other, as did the other half dozen men in the pool area with their families. Nick placed the towels and ice buckets on an empty table, along with his bag containing the satellite phone, keys, and stun gun. The pool area was crowded and noisy, but the people thinned out quickly, having been at the pool longer.
Rachel followed Nick into the hot tub nearly forty-five minutes later. Jean played in the swimming pool with three siblings near her age: two girls and a boy. Rachel pointed at the satellite phone Nick had in hand.
“You’re going to call Grace, aren’t you?”
“You know me so well.”
“It couldn’t wait until morning?” She settled in next to him.
“We haven’t called her since we were on the road to Denver. I have to see if anything’s changed before we move on,” he explained. “I waited until I had a beautiful woman, a beer, and a hot tub before calling her.”
“You think I’m beautiful, big boy?” Rachel batted her eyes at him comically, nearly making him lose the last gulp of liquid through his nose.
“Don’t…” Nick choked while avoiding Rachel. “Let me get this over with.”
“Oh fine. One measly compliment and then it’s back to business.” She moved away from Nick haughtily.
He hit the key to speed dial Grace, shaking his head at Rachel.
“Nick, is that you? Speak up, boy. You’re the only caller who can get through to me without an ID.”
“It is I, Nick the novelist, checking in with my favorite Marshall. How’s Timmy and Lassie?”
“Oh, you’re a real crackup. All hell is breaking loose around the country. I want to know where you are and what you had to do with it?”
“Huh?” He waited for Grace’s reaction.
“We have a dead senator in a Denver love pad with his mistress, and a sniper team nearby who apparently came to blows and killed each other in a fit of angst over God knows what. The real kicker is the senator and this sniper team were connected by the same closed down clandestine operation your name popped up in. Care to comment?”
“In what way? What…you think I caused some senator to screw himself to death, and talked two sniper guys into a duel, all while I’m hiding out with Rachel, Jean, and Deke the dog? Wow, you really do have a high opinion of my abilities, Grace.”
Rachel was in a full blown, hands-over-mouth, convulsions of laughter, with Nick making quieting gestures at her with his hand. She moved further away from him.
“Okay, that does sound stupid when you put it like that,” Grace admitted. “We hadn’t heard from you for weeks and…well, we were worried you were connected with Denver.”
“We’re laying low, Grace, sorting things out. Are we still on for the drives?”
“Yes. They’re willing to meet your demands and let you extract the drives any way you can. We’re to cover for you unless the op gets turned into a wild-west show, in which case we disown your ass.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Frumpy. Talk to you soon.” Nick ended the call as Rachel moved in close again.
“Denver caused some waves, huh?”
“Yep, but we surfed right over them like Banzai Jack. I love it when a plan comes together.”
Rachel knocked on the door, and Nick let her in. He was dressed in khaki shorts and a strapped t-shirt. Rachel moved into his arms, the thin pink cotton pullover nightgown doing nothing to insulate the feel of her body against his. She held him tightly, her cheek resting against his shoulder.
“Good Lord, woman, you smell good,” he whispered.
“It’s called Scent of Arousal. Like it?”
“More than I can say.” He forced her toward the bed. “It smells just as wondrous as it did last night.”
“Last night?… Oh, don’t Nick, Jean’s up. I told her I was waking you for breakfast. I thought you’d be comatose after, well, you know?”
“Our extended interlude?”
“Yes.” She laughed, feeling Nick’s attention right through her clothes. “You look like you’ve been up for hours.
