either. Did she say where they'd taken him? Or was it a her?' He took so long to answer I thought we'd been cut off. 'Hello?'
'I just had a thought and I'm feeling like an idiot for not thinking it before.'
'What's that?'
'I have pictures of everyone Assan's talked to in the last two weeks.' Cole speeded up as he began to get excited. 'Amanda hired me as the new pool boy so she and I could talk without making Assan suspicious. I might have a picture of that houseguest. And if Assan's meeting with terrorists I might have the pictures to show which ones!'
'I'm supposed to clean the pool today,' Cole went on. 'Why don't you come with? You could meet me at my office and take a look at the pictures first. Then we could go to Assan's together. We'll both do the pool work, then I'll go to the kitchen, now that I know where it is,' he paused and I could tell he was smiling, 'and distract the cook while you snoop around. What do you say?'
'This could be incredibly dangerous for you, Cole.' I don't even think he heard me. He rushed on, like a parent- challenged teen planning his first kegger. 'You know what else? I saw somebody the night we met. At the party?'
'Yeah?'
'As I was leaving, a door opened and a man looked out. I got the feeling we were having a mutual oh-crap- you're-not-supposed-to-see-me reaction.'
'Could you identify him again?'
'No problem.' Being purely hetero, I'm a little embarrassed to say this, but he was easily the best looking guy I've ever seen.
Click. Blocks of information shifted and realigned in my brain as I realized Derek Stinkin' Steele must be the same stud Cole had glimpsed during the Great Bathroom Escape. And his amazing looks suddenly made sense in light of Assan's legitimate profession. It was suddenly imperative to know the man's true identity.
'Forget the pool work for now,' I said, 'and tell me you're a big fan of the Pink Panther movies.'
'I own the whole set.'
'Then I assume you also own a few disguises?'
'A dozen at least.' I could tell he was grinning. Despite knowing better, so was I.
'Excellent.' I told him to meet me down the street from the hospital Vayl had taken Derek to. 'How soon can you get there?'
'An hour.'
'Good. See you then.'
We hung up, and after a quick phonebook search I found Samaritan Care Center in the yellow pages. Thirty seconds later I knew Derek was still there, reclaiming some lost fluids in room 429.
I kicked it into gear. I pulled the costumes I'd brought from my trunk. One would transform me into a working- class brunette, the other a truck-stop blonde. I chose brunette.
The hair was straight and shoulder-length. I stuck a red beret on top at a jaunty angle and a new girl began to emerge from the mirror. I called her Dee Ann. She liked to pronounce her name Dee-on and, though she worked as a bank teller, she pretended she could paint better than Van Gogh. A man's shirt covered in multicolored parrots, blue jeans, army boots, a long green trench coat and reflective sunglasses completed the ensemble.
I dressed in my room. My weapons case coughed up Grief and a small black box containing Bergman's latest prototype. It had started life as a band-aid. But Bergman had replaced the absorbent padding with a tiny bug. That went on the middle finger of my right hand. I stuck the receiver, a former hearing aid, into my left ear. Theoretically I should be able to attach the bug to Derek's skin, and it would transmit every conversation he took part in for the next two hours. Having had some experience with Bergman's new inventions, I wasn't expecting it to last more than 20 minutes. Hopefully that would be all the time I'd need.
On the way to the hospital I dialed Albert. I often called him in transit. That way I always had a good excuse to hang up. He answered on the second ring.
'Hello?'
'Hey Albert, it's Jaz.'
He chuckled and said, 'Two calls in two days. Jazzy, are you turning into a nag?'
I had to slow down so I wouldn't swerve into a fire hydrant. Albert hadn't been nice to me—or anyone else—in years. Was he high?
'Just curious what the doc said,' I replied, careful to keep my voice neutral.
'Said I could keep my foot—for now. I gotta tell you, I've never been so relieved about anything!' Ah, so that explained it.
'That's great!'
'So, uh, about the nurse.'
'Yeah?'
'I cleaned the house. They're pretty anal about week-old sandwiches on the end tables.'
'I imagine so,' I said.
It is a strange and unfair phenomenon that children of crappy parents still love those parents. Despite my best efforts, I'd never been able to erase that feeling. So maybe it's understandable that I suddenly felt the urge to park
