“And?”
“And? And friends are supposed to help friends.”
“Tell me something, Caitlin. If I came to you and asked you to design a special computer interface for me, would you do it for free?”
Caitlin shook her head. “No, we run a business, I couldn’t very well –”
“Exactly.”
“But this isn’t in your line of work.
“Is that so? What is it that you think I do?”
“The article mentioned something about the recovery of stolen information or something like that.”
“Yeah, that’s one aspect. I provide security, security for property, ideas, and self. I think you’re in need of a little self-protection. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Caitlin hesitated, and then reluctantly nodded. “Then how can I pay you?”
“We’ll work something out, assuming we both live through this. If not, well, satisfaction is guaranteed or your money back.”
Caitlin sat back in her chair and stared at him. “Is that your idea of humor?”
“No, not at all. I want to be honest with you. You’re in serious trouble, and I think I can help you. But until we have some inkling as to who these people are and why they want you dead, it’s going to be very hard to protect you.”
The front door opened, and Caitlin’s eyes jerked toward it. It was the Lexus couples leaving. She turned back to John. His steady gaze was questioning.
“Okay,” she said. “You’re hired. What’s our first move?”
“Our? Our first move is to put you somewhere out of sight. Then I’ll talk to the hotel security and check with the police, to see if your report was filed.”
CHAPTER 9
John settled his tab and told the bartender to give the transmitter thirty seconds on high. Then he directed Caitlin down a hallway choked with cases of beer, boxes of snack mix, and both full and empty kegs, toward the rear of the bar. They passed the restrooms and reached a steel fire door.
John opened it and looked around, then motioned for her to follow.
His car, a 1973 ‘Cuda was backed into a space on the wharf next to a garbage bin. As they approached it, he remotely triggered the locks.
The drive took them down the two eighty, past Daly City, onto highway 1, and across the last hills to the coastal road. A half-hour later, they pulled into the lot of a motel overlooking Half Moon Bay.
“Why here?” Caitlin asked.
He pulled into a parking space out of sight of the lobby and stopped. “I’ve used it on several occasions, but never under my real name. It’s far enough out of San Francisco to skip a check if they’re circulating your photo but close enough to run back into the city.”
“I see.”
“Besides, you’ll like the view of the bay.”
Caitlin’s eyes narrowed. “I hardly think I’ll be admiring the view.”
“Relax, no one will bother you. Wait here while I get the key. I’d prefer you be seen as little as possible.”
“But you just said–”
“I know what I said, but there’s no sense in tempting fate.”
He left the motor running, the big V-8 hummed softly as if alive. The fog had turned into a heavy mist as they neared the coast. Odds were slim that anyone would see Caitlin well enough to identify her, but he didn’t play the odds, he played the sure thing.
He walked around to the lobby and entered the main door. His trench coat dripped water onto the thick vermilion tile. The night clerk, an attractive young woman barely out of her teens, studied a textbook on oceanography. John figured her to be a student at Palo Alto. That was one of the things he liked about this motel. The night clerks were almost always students and seldom worked more than a semester before deciding the graveyard shift crimped their sex life. The ones who did stay longer only did so because they could study most of their shift. That meant they spent as little time as possible noticing who came and went, a definite plus in John’s view.
As he approached her counter, she reluctantly looked up from the book on oceanography. Her dark eyes widened as they focused on his scar. Then she met his gaze and forced a smile. Her teeth were straight and clean but had a faint stain.
John nodded to her and flipped a credit card onto the counter. “I’d like a room for two people, separate beds, overlooking the bay.”
She picked up the card and did a quick scan. He could almost read the computer screen as information scrolled down. She nodded. “Yes sir, Mr. Kurdys. How many nights will that be for?”
“Let’s start with a week and see how we like it.”
“Yes, sir.”
She punched information into the terminal and then passed the card back to him. Ducking under the counter for a moment, she came up with a small map and a plastic card. She set them both on the counter and indicated a point on the map. “You’re booked into room 187. It’s right here.”
“Thanks, I can find it.”
He checked the map, and then picked up the key.
“Have a pleasant stay.”
John tucked the credit card and the key into a pocket of his coat and nodded. “Thanks.”
He walked back to the car and got in next to Caitlin.
“How’d it go?”
“No problems.”
He put the car into reverse, backed down the length of the hotel, and stopped two doors past room 187. There were several cars parked nearby, but no one was in sight. It didn’t look like the hotel did a lot of business after midnight.
“Come on, it looks clear,” he said.
He killed the engine, opened his door, and then popped the latch on the trunk before getting out. At the rear of the ‘Cuda, John reached into the trunk and
