He chuckled as she turned his head around. “I don’t think so.”
“Fine. Then we’ll do a Mohawk. I’m not picky.”
She spritzed his hair with water and went to work removing the lion’s share of the mane he had grown since being undercover.
She gripped a handful of hair and combed it out, admiring the length. “You could just wear it in a ponytail.”
He shook his head slightly. “Ponytails are for girls who play softball.” He smiled to himself as he added, “And lady cops.”
She pulled his head back hard and he laughed harder. “Sorry, not sorry,” she muttered.
The pair settled into their back and forth banter while Candy clipped him into something more presentable. As she was wrapping up, she stopped and snapped her fingers. “I forgot to carve in lightning bolts on the sides of your head.”
Roger nodded. “I guess I’ll just have to make due ’til the next time.”
She leaned in close to his ear. “Don’t go thinking I do this for everybody. There may not be a next time.”
“Copy that.”
He felt her brush the crumbs from his neck, then she pulled the towel and slid the sheet from around his neck. He stood from the stool and unbuttoned the flannel shirt. She watched the muscles of his back and chest ripple as he snapped the shirt a few times to remove any stray clippings. She actually had to remember to breathe as he slipped the shirt back on.
“Thank you.”
She nodded absently, watching as he buttoned the shirt back up and tuck it into the chinos. “What do I owe you?” He shot her another brilliant smile and she got a very faraway look in her eye.
“Nothing.” She snapped back to the present and blushed. She had to turn around and take her time replacing the trimmers in the travel bag. “You actually clean up kind of good.”
He gave her a crooked grin. “It must be your handiwork.” He ducked into the shower and peered in the mirror. “Wow. You did a really good job.”
“Yup. No mullet.” She zipped the bag and stood behind him. “This time.”
“Candy!” a voice shouted from outside the shower.
She tossed the travel bag to the small table and stepped back out. “What is it?”
“We got riders approaching from the east.” The man waved at her to follow him, then disappeared back to the ladders leading to the roof.
“Great.” She muttered as she trotted after him.
Roger fell into speed. “I’m coming. I might can identify if they’re Simon’s men.”
They rallied at the parapet of the roof and a guard handed her the binoculars. She focused on the area where he pointed and she saw three motorcycles riding slowly near where they had staged Roger’s death.
“Do you know them?” She handed him the glasses and he stared.
“Oh, yeah. The big guy is Savage.” He handed her the glasses back. “And I don’t know his whole story, but nobody gives him shit. In a world of felons, drug dealers, and murderers, he’s considered the bad guy.”
“Great.” She lowered the spy glasses and stepped from the edge. “Any idea what they’re doing out here again?”
Roger shook his head. “It looked like they were headed to the ambush area.” He sighed deeply and gave her a shrug. “It could be that they’re looking for something else. Something that would explain how the Zulus got the jump on their guys?”
“Tell me they wouldn’t have a reason to look for you.” Her eyes told him all he needed to know. She was worried and rightly so.
He shook his head. “Nothing that I can think of.” He paced slowly behind her, his mind racing. “We covered all of the bases. I left my colors, left my Chief…there should be no reason to think there were any survivors.”
She wrapped her arms around herself at a sudden chill. “I want eyes on them while they’re out there and I want to know if they leave or if others show up. Got it?”
Roger snapped his fingers. “You still got the radio I left when I first came here?”
Candy gave him a confused look. “What radio?”
“I left one here earlier.” He turned and headed for the roof access. “All of their radios are on the same frequency. Simon’s orders. If something was going on within range, he wanted to know about it.”
He gripped the ladder and slid down to the floor below. Candy followed and had to trot to catch up with him. “Are you suggesting that we call him?”
“Hell, no.” Roger darted into the warehouse and stopped at the workbench where he’d left it. He rummaged through the material scattered across the top and lifted the radio triumphantly. “We just monitor their traffic. We’ll know what’s going on at the same time they do.”
“And if they decide to sniff around more?”
He gave her another brilliant smile. “Then we pull everybody inside, seal up the doors, and pretend the place is empty.” He turned a slow circle, indicating everything inside. “From the outside, they’d have no reason to stop here or even sniff around.”
Candy gave him fearful eyes. “There’s a grocery store nearby.” She lowered her voice and pulled him away from the others working around them. “What if he found usable stuff, like in the grocery store? Would he be more likely to raid it and leave, or do you think he’d try to put down roots?”
Roger tried to put himself in Simon’s place. The problem was, the man was too unpredictable. “I can’t say. He’s all twisted in the head. “He’ll leave when he should stay. Fight when he should run.” He chewed at the inside of his cheek as his mind tried to anticipate the thinkings of a madman. “I have no idea.”
She sighed heavily and leaned against the workbench. “From the direction they were riding, we could point them to the grocery. At least
