Cold Blooded (36 page)

“We…we can make this right, honest to God, Nick,” Frank rattled off in high-pitched stumbling fashion. “I’m in charge of everything. Anything you want…anything…I can get it.”

“I’m afraid that ship has sailed, Frankie,” Nick put a consoling hand on Richert’s shoulder. “It sailed the moment you called in a strike on Mr. Nason’s boat, The Loose Lady.”

“The Lucky Lady, damn it,” Gus corrected.

“Not for Frankie, Gus.” Nick grinned over at his partner.

Richert began to sob, his shoulders shaking as a real emotion overcame him: fear.

“Awwww… don’t get so upset, Frankie. I’ll make this real easy on you, for old time’s sake,” Nick promised, bending down to give Richert a hug. “I have my notebook computer all set up. You’re going to help me transfer all the ill-gotten gains I know you have in offshore accounts into my offshore account.”

“You’ll kill me anyway!” Frank cried out. “I’ll give you everything-just let me go.”

“Ah…no.” Nick shook his head. “You know how this works, Frankie. You can give me what I want and go out painlessly, or you can scream for death over the next ten hours, and then give me what I want. I’m only making the offer once though. If you start playing me, you’ll get ten hours of wishing you were dead, no matter what information you give me. What’ll it be, ol’ buddy?”

“O…okay,” Frank sobbed in gasping breaths, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“You see, Gus.” Nick looked up at his friend. “I told you Frankie would be cooperative.”

Grace stopped the rental van in front of Nick’s Pacific Grove house.

“Wow, this is gorgeous. I guess Nick really liked you two.”

“He gave me the keys and paperwork,” Rachel replied tiredly. “I don’t have a clue about the legal ramifications.”

“Nick’s coming back!” Jean piped in angrily from the backseat, where she and Deke huddled together.

“Easy Jean,” Grace soothed, exchanging a knowing glance with Rachel. “I didn’t mean to imply anything. Is Deke okay? I know they gave him something for the flight.”

“He’s better since riding from the airport with his nose out the window,” Jean answered, hugging the dog’s neck.

“We really didn’t have to fly straight here from D.C. after our meeting with Richert, although it will sure be nice to drive over and see my place. Too bad we couldn’t get a flight leaving Washington until nearly midnight. Getting stuck in that damn Dallas/Fort Worth hellhole until nearly dawn really frosted me. I’m lucky Tim volunteered to stay in D.C. and cover my tracks.”

“I didn’t want to stay around there any longer. That Richert guy gave me the creeps.”

“This from a woman traveling around with Nick,” Grace retorted, opening her door. “C’mon, let’s get your stuff inside. I’d like to see the inside of Diego’s home.”

Twenty minutes later, the two women sat in the kitchen drinking coffee, while Jean and the still-groggy Deke watched television.

“I’m as spacey as the goofy dog,” Grace complained. “At least with everything the Benoits have given us, you won’t have to testify anywhere. Are you really going to live out here now? This is your first chance in a long time to get back in touch with friends and family.”

“It’s great knowing I can do that, but I’d rather come out of hiding slowly. After being with Nick, I don’t see the world in quite the same way anymore.”

“Look…” Grace leaned over the table, lowering her voice. “We both know Nick won’t be back. Tell me about him. Was -”

Grace’s cell-phone rang. She checked the caller ID with some irritation and then answered it with a sigh. “Yes, Timmy, we’re here safe and sound in lovely California. It’s so thoughtful of…what?”

Rachel watched Grace’s bored expression turn into bewildered, open-mouthed shock. Grace glanced furtively at Rachel while listening intently to her partner’s voice. Minutes ticked by as Grace simply acknowledged what she heard with short grunts of acceptance.

“Okay…call me if anything else comes up, Tim. I’ll check your place, too, after I sleep all day. Yeah, right…you can clean your own damn place, pal. See ya’.” Grace ended the call and hesitated to speak for a moment.

“Grace! What the hell’s going on?” Rachel asked impatiently, dread washing over her in a cold, clammy wave.

“Richert’s dead. They found him slumped over the steering wheel of his car, halfway home, along the roadside. They think he had some kind of stroke. Tim says it’s lucky he didn’t crash into -”

Rachel erupted in laughter.

“What?” Grace looked at Rachel as if she were nuts, and then leaned back in her chair, comprehension flooding in along with stunned disbelief.

“Oh come on, Rachel. You don’t think? No way…”

Jean ran in from the next room at the sound of her mom’s laughter with Deke trying to keep up. Rachel hugged Jean, teary eyed, and barely able to keep her fading laughter from turning into sobs of relief.

“What’s wrong Mom?” Jean asked worriedly, holding onto Rachel tightly.

“The Terminator’s back,” Rachel whispered.

Jean pushed away in jubilation, pointing excitedly at Rachel. “I told you.”

Gus sat on his beach chair, looking out over the surging surf, smashing against the rocks at Otter’s Point. He pulled up the collar of his down jacket for the third time since arriving for what he had lately come to consider Nick’s weekend dawn patrol. No painting could do the little beach justice, Nick had told him countless times. After less than two month’s living in Pacific Grove, Gus now accepted the fact that he was hooked. With a sigh of satisfaction, he reached for the Sunday paper he had carried down to the beach with him. Deke ended his leap from the granite wall a few feet above the sand to a spot not more than six inches from the startled man’s feet.

“Eeeeyaaaaaahhhh!” Gus fell sideways, grabbing his paper while fending off Deke’s lavish attention. “Holy mother of God, Deke! You shaved five years off my life!”

Gus ceased fighting the dog off and simply sat up in the sand with Deke across his lap. It was only then he heard raucous laughter over the wind and beach noise. Gus glanced to his right as Nick and Jean descended the stone steps to the sand, having a merry time at his expense. Jean had her strainer and bucket in order to pursue the hunt for treasure in Otter’s Point’s myriad tide pools. Nick carried beach chairs and a backpack Gus knew contained a stainless steel coffee thermos with mugs. Jean waved hello as she passed by. Deke pawed sand over Gus in his haste to follow her, leaving Gus using his newspaper as a shield. Nick was still laughing when he reached down a hand to the less-thanentertained Gus.

“Oh… that was so funny,” Gus growled, allowing Nick to pull him up to his feet.

Nick brushed sand off his friend with overdone zeal and righted the beach chair.

“Good morning, Gus.” Nick set up the three beach chairs he had carried down with him. “Would you believe I’d never have let Deke off the leash if I’d known he would launch himself from the walkway?”

“Not even for a nano-second, you prick.”

“Good, I’d be disappointed if you thought these entertaining inspirational gems I think up for you were an accident. Coffee?”

“Ha, ha, I beat you to the beach for the first time since being talked into moving here to the Arctic.” Gus held out his hand for the mug Nick filled from the thermos.

“The Arctic? Oh…turn that record over, will you?”

“I might as well be living in Boston,” Gus proclaimed, blending the perfect amount of nostalgia for a place with weather he detested, along with enough insinuated guilt to set Nick’s teeth on edge. Gus chuckled as his familiar barb lanced home for a fleeting moment.

Nick stood up with manufactured outrage. He grabbed up his beach chair, waving at Jean, and calling out to her. “Come, Danger, we must move on. I’ve been insulted once too often by this uncultured rube.”

Jean met Nick’s indignant demeanor with a smile, waved back, and continued her sifting endeavor with the forever curious Deke hunched over the rocks, waiting patiently for new discoveries to sniff at. Gus pulled on Nick’s coat with his free hand.

“Sit down, fool, before you stir up the sand. Where’s Mrs. McCarty?”

Nick barked out a short laugh and sat down again. “I got Rachel so good this morning. You know how she hates it when I’m always up before she stirs. This morning, I inched out silently from beside her and spent ten minutes carefully making her into the bed. The only thing showing from the covers was her face. Then I snuck out of the room and closed the door. It took some doing, but I managed to keep both Deke and Danger from ruining my little charade before we left for the beach.”

Gus shook his head, smiling at what entertained the cold-blooded killer sitting beside him. “I figured when we came back from Vegas after the wedding, you two would settle into humdrum married life. Here it is nearly six weeks later and you’re still trying to annoy her like always. How do you do it?”

“I’m thinking of getting Deke a kitten.”

Gus nearly snorted coffee through his nose, as he had just begun sipping the brew.

“Damn, Nick!” Gus laughed. “You need to get back to work. This family life has released your inner demons. It’s not pretty.”

“I sent Diego’s newest adventure in last week. My agent called me Friday and claimed it’s my best work yet,” Nick said defensively.

“We both know what work I’m talking about, partner. What’d you title your book anyway?”

“Caribbean Contract,” Nick answered with enthusiasm. “Diego took on a partner in this latest literary masterpiece of mine.”

“He wouldn’t happen to be black and a master mariner, would he?”

“Why yes, Gus, how perceptive of you. Did -”

“You’re toast, Hotshot!” Rachel’s voice warned, her voice carrying over surf, wind, and conversation.

“Uh oh.” Gus smirked, as Nick studiously kept from turning toward Rachel’s voice. “Your evil ways have caught up with you, Hemingway. It looks like a triple team. Rachel recruited Dan and Carol on the way. The Dynamic Duo has joined with Wonder Woman to put the Joker in his place.”

“When I get the galley for editing from my agent, I’m writing out the smartass partner,” Nick replied, evoking laughter from Gus.

By this time Rachel had forged ahead of Dan and Carol to stand with arms folded over her chest.

“Hi, Rach,” Gus greeted her, while Nick turned away.

“He made me into the bed! That’s six mornings in a row!”

“Ah… you neglected to mention this wasn’t your first caper, Joker,” Gus pointed out. “Hi Dan…Carol.”

“I wouldn’t sit too close to Nick this morning, Gus,” Dan advised, smiling knowingly.

“You should be ashamed, Nick,” Carol added, trying not to laugh.

“And you, young lady!” Rachel pointed at Jean, who was dancing around with Deke, in a victory dance. “Your mentor here won’t be around every minute. I will have my revenge!”

Gus stood up while Nick continued sitting, looking off to the left as if completely absorbed by the horizon. “Now look, I know tucking the covers around you and sneaking off may be a little -”

“Tucking the covers?” Rachel snapped incredulously. “Is that what he told you? He duct-tapes me into the bed, damn it!”

Gus started howling in laughter, walking away while trying to stop. His reaction set off Dan and Carol, who also stepped back a few paces. Gus noted Nick then peeked over his shoulder at Rachel. Seeing her lip quivering as she resisted laughter, Gus watched with amusement as Nick jumped up and put an arm around her shoulders.

“Good morning, my love.” Nick kissed Rachel’s cheek.

“Don’t you good morning me. It took ten minutes to get out of bed this time, you brat.” Rachel turned her head away, but allowed Nick to draw her closer.

Gus approached the group again with some trepidation, but did so more confidently once he saw Rachel’s arm slip around Nick’s waist. “I told Nick he needs to get back to work.”

“He needs a vacation, Gus,” Carol interjected. “Nick just finished a book.”

“I’m afraid I agree.” Rachel leaned her head against Nick’s chest. “A long vacation.”

“Besides, I have a job,” Nick stated. “Deke and I walk Danger to school in the morning while Rachel…ah…sleeps in.”

“Nick told me he was going to stop,” Jean joined in, seeing she was missing her favorite part of Nick’s morning ritual lately: the aftermath. She beckoned the group to follow her. “C’mon over and look at the shells I found this morning.”

“Actually,” Nick whispered to Gus as they brought up the rear, “I told Danger I ran out of duct tape.”

“Idle hands are the Devil’s workshop,” Gus admonished.

“Maybe you’re right,” Nick allowed.