On The Rocks (26 page)

Her chest rose and fell quickly, and she
kept her focus straight ahead. Lennox knocked on the glass. Without
looking she flipped him the bird, and then Rook hopped over from
the back seat and shoved that little face in front of his view.

“At least let me get my cat,” Lennox said,
hoping she’d open the door.

The window came down a hair. A little more.
A touch… more…

He shoved his arm through the gap.

The window went up, trapping him.

“Shit!” He grit his teeth. “Goddammit,
Kizzie.”

An older woman came up the walkway pushing a
stroller. She slowed to a stop about a foot away, her brown eyes
huge behind the thick lenses of her eyeglasses.

He flashed a megawatt grin. “Just a little
lover’s quarrel.”

The window went up a touch more. “Ow!” He
slammed his palm against the glass. “Ow!” Went back to smiling at
the older woman.

“Buy her some nice jewelry,” the woman
suggested, like it was totally normal to see a man’s arm get
amputated by a car window. “That always works.”

She shuffled away with the stroller leading,
her two cents on the matter delivered. If he had change for a
dollar, he’d give her a refund.

Jewelry was what got his ass —and arm— in
this mess in the first place.

God, don’t let her put the car in gear…

Nearby, a couple of other shoppers had
stopped to watch the commotion. Because once one person pulled a
gooseneck, everyone wanted to see what was happening.

“We’re starting to draw a crowd out here.”
He glanced at a kid with his cellphone out. “Our video’s gonna be
viral any minute now, agent. Can you let me in, please?”

A string of inventive curses filtered
through the gap in the window. Then the glass lowered enough for
him to pull free. Just as his fingers got clear it went right back
up on a motorized hum.

The door lock popped up.

Rotating his shoulder, he grabbed the handle
and got the door open. Hopped inside and shut it just as a fist
came barreling into his injured arm.

“Could you stop beating me for
one
minute.” Damn, the woman had a jab on her.

“Really, Lennox?” Kizzie’s brow bunched
together so hard a vein had to be constricted. “
Really?
”

Heaving a sigh, he flexed and curled his
fingers, trying to keep the circulation going.

Yesterday’s recon was a major bust. The
owner didn’t bother to open the store so they’d spent the day in
town, keeping their ears open, hoping for any Intel they could get
to drop out of the sky.

Of course, they got nothing for their
efforts. So when they came back today, they had to make it
count.

Lennox had gone into the jewelry story by
himself to search for an engagement ring. That woman S… S…
Galletti’s wife —whatever her name was— was there speaking in
hushed tones with Sanzio, the brother.

Naturally, Lennox needed a distraction. So
he’d called in Kizzie, and it was the first time he’d ever seen the
agent freeze.

“You
knew
that Sanzio could peg me,”
Kizzie snapped. “Why would you call me in if you saw him in
there?”

“I needed a distraction.”

“So you thought, ‘hey, let’s risk Kizzie’s
ass
again
, she won’t mind’?”

“Did he make you?” Lennox asked calmly.

Her dark eyes narrowed. “He asked me where
he knew me from, Lennox. Somewhere in his pea brain he remembers
me. I told you about Belém two-point-oh. The drug didn’t take as
fast as it should have.

“So, first, you risked compromising me
and
then
you compound it by telling him of course he
knows me because I’m a
porn star
?”

“Hey, I didn’t call you a porn star. I said
you were an adult
film
star. I kept it classy.” Fighting a
laugh, Lennox shrugged. “Besides, you star in most of my
fantasies.”

Kizzie slammed back against the seat and
shook her head. “I thought you could do normal for the rest of this
trip. You didn’t even crack forty-eight hours.”

Rook shifted in his lap and he scratched the
cat’s head. “All these years later and I’m still schoolin’ you,
rook. Misdirection one-oh-one. You got your pen and paper?”

Kizzie rolled her eyes.

“If people are busy staring at the gorgeous,
alluring,” he bit his lip and eyed her up and down, “absolutely
scrumptious—”

“Tate.”

“—porn star, they’re not focused on her
equally attractive
if
misunderstood male friend. That gives
said male friend enough time to plant all the bugs he can. Pay no
attention to the man behind the curtain, folks…”

Somewhere in that brain of hers, she was
picturing him dead in about a hundred and forty different ways.
Wait, nope, a hundred and forty-one… and climbing.

“That’s not the point. We’re in on this
together, Tate. A heads up would be nice next time.”

“You’re mad at me again? Oh, come on,
Kizzie, don’t be mad at me again.” He held Rook up over his face,
working the cat’s paws with his hands. In a tiny little voice he
pleaded, “
Pwease
don’t be mad at my daddy. He only looks
like an idiot.”

“Why didn’t I get on that goddamn plane?”
Kizzie muttered. Shaking her head, she took a couple deep breaths
and shot him a look. “Know what, that’s my fault. I should have
checked the sat-link tracking Zio myself. I know better than to
think I can depend on you.”

Ouch. Having his arm stuck in the window
hurt less than that punch to the gut. He stayed quiet, letting her
stew.

She puffed out her cheeks and blew out a
breath. “How many did you get?”

“Seven.”

“Seven?”

Rook tucked in his lap again, Lennox snagged
the transmitter from the footwell, turned the volume up a hair. “I
was working on eight, but the woman— What’s her name?”

“You really can’t remember a woman’s name,
can you? It’s like you have some sort of defect where once they’re
out of sight they are literally out of mind.”

“I remembered yours.” His voice went serious
and he held her gaze. “Yours is the only one that matters to me,
chuchu
.”

“If I matter to you, Len—” She cleared her
throat. “Her name’s Sabine.”

Lennox wanted to press, but he left it
alone. Eight days wasn’t a lot of time to begin with, so here on
out he had to be really careful about when and how he pushed.

“Right. I was working on eight but
Sabine
started getting suspicious.”

He handed the transmitter over and glanced
up. Kizzie stared at him, that brow cocked.

“What?” he asked.

“
Seven
?”

He shrugged. “I work fast.”

Kizzie snorted. “Yeah, I remember.”

Lennox’s eyes went wide, and his brow shot
up high on his forehead. “Holy hell, Rook! Did Kizzie Baldwin just
make a joke? Oh,
Haaaallelujah!
I thought you were gonna be
all serious this entire mission.”

“Whatever, Tate,” she said, chuckling.

“See.” He reached out and cupped her
shoulder softly. “I’m not so bad a guy, rook. Just made a bad
mistake.”

“I never thought you were a bad guy, Tate. I
just…” She let out a shaky breath. “Let’s see what we’re
getting.”

If only she’d finish her thoughts. If only
they could talk about the past. He could explain. She kept circling
what she wanted to know —
Why
did you leave me in Belém?— but
wouldn’t just outright ask.

Slowly, reluctantly, he pulled his hand
away, breaking the contact between them.

Eight days.

Arm perched on the center console, Kizzie
held the transmitter in the space between them, head tipped a bit
to hear what Sanzio and Sabine were chatting about. The writing was
on the wall with those two.

“They’re definitely fuckin’,” Lennox said
bluntly, passing his hand over Rook’s fur.

Kizzie bobbed her head. “Definitely. All
while planning a party for her anniversary with Abrahan. Ice
cold.”

Lennox stopped listening and just stared at
the woman beside him. She’d changed so much in the last decade, but
in so many ways she was still the same. Guarded—not that an agent
would be all willy nilly with their info and emotions, but Kizzie
made a point to never let him get too close, even after they’d been
together so long.

What was she like now? Were her lips still
as soft? Did she still taste the same?

He’d slept with so many women since Kizzie
he should have her well and truly out of his system. But he
remembered everything about her.

She jerked her head up. Curled a loose
strand of hair behind her ear. “What?”

“You still dance, Kizzie?” They used to
dance all the time in Belém. Well, she’d dance. He’d make a fool of
himself. But as long as he was with her he didn’t feel foolish at
all.

She massaged her forehead with the fingers
of one hand. “Not often, no.”

“Dance with me?”

“Lennox, we can’t go—”

A low trilling started up from the ether.
Rook hopped from his lap and darted to the back seat.

“Can’t what, Kizzie?” he pressed.

“Answer your phone.”

Swallowing curses, Lennox shifted his hips
to wedge the device free and jammed it against his ear.

“Tate. Hold on.” He tapped a button and held
the cell phone between them. “Go ahead, agent.”

“You there, Gracie?” Agent Hayford
asked.

“I’m here, Sam.” Kizzie said.

“I see Eric’s still alive.”

“He’s been begging me to put a bullet in
him,” Kizzie said, shooting him a playful glare, “but I’m holding
back. What’s up?”

“Just got a message to Sanzio’s phone from
Metis,” Hayford said. “Got a date and time for delivery of the NOC
list.”

Lennox’s heart dropped and
then
the
beat sped up. This mission just got an end date, and if it wasn’t
longer than his eight days, any chance for him with Kizzie was dead
in the water.

“When?” He held his breath, praying it was a
month from now. A year from now.

“Three days.”

All the air punched out of him like a popped
balloon. He twisted his head toward Kizzie, who looked right back
at him, that brilliant smile of hers on display.

“Three days,” he echoed softly. She’d be
going back to that other guy in three days…

“Delivery’s exactly at ten-thirty on the
eighteenth.”

Kizzie turned her attention back to the
phone. “What’s the plan, Sam?”

“You can eighty-six tagging the phone,
guys,” the agent replied. “We need to get access to Abrahan’s
computer.”

“Remote hack?” Kizzie asked.

“No. Metis is operating on the deep web,
same as us. Either going through something like an onion router or
a virtual private network. Everything is completely anonymous, but
given time there are ways to trace the movements back to the
source. We can also trace the money, provided the payment is made
electronically which we’re fairly certain Metis will require. But
to do any of this, we first need access to either the sending or
the receiving device. Obviously, Galletti’s computer is our only
play. We, well,
you’d
have to do a man in the middle attack,
but using his computer.”

The other agent’s words were so much
background noise Lennox couldn’t stand it. He kept his gaze on his
girl, on the way her mouth moved as she discussed the new objective
and the method of acquisition.

This wasn’t fair.

He had eight days, dammit.
Eight
.

Now three.

“Yoo-hoo… Tate.” Kizzie said an eternity
later.

Lennox shook himself from his thoughts.
Scenery flew by outside his window as the SUV climbed up the narrow
lane hugging the cliffs. “What?”

“You okay?” she asked, slowing into a
hairpin turn.

No.

He was going to lose her again before he
even got a chance to get her back.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

“Looks like we’ve got fire, huh?”

Nodding, Lennox turned his head out the
window. They had fire, all right. And he only had three days to
stop everything he’d hoped for from going up in flames.

15

Naples, Italy

AS THE SUN went down on another day, Abrahan
plugged his Porsche into a parking space and hopped out. He already
didn't want to be in Naples —didn't yet know what he was here for—
so stalking across this same stretch of sidewalk for the second
time today had his irritation at full boil.

Metis had said three days. It had been three
days. But when Abrahan had shown up this afternoon there was no
mail for him at this location. He'd had to spend the day in a city
he loathed. And now, most likely, he'd spend the night. The
ninety-minute drive home would no doubt balloon to double that in
the evening traffic, and he'd been sitting in the car all day.
Sitting for another three hours was out.

The prospects of sleeping in Naples
ratcheted his ire up another notch. He preferred his quiet home on
the coast to the chaotic city, thrumming with energy even at this
late hour. With his muffled hearing in one ear, and amplification
working twice as hard in the other, excessive noise was
disorienting. Made his head hurt.

It was a weakness he shared with no one.

Weaknesses were points for an enemy to
exploit. And when it came time to battle, the victor was often the
man who hid his weaknesses well.

Unfortunately, some weaknesses weren’t so
easily disguised.

Unfortunately, some weaknesses were
family.

He had to do something about Sanzio. With
each day that passed his brother's drinking worsened, his lips got
looser, and his rage came closer to exploding.

Never
had Sanzio threatened him.
Never raised a hand to him, even if it was to shake Abrahan loose.
It was just a matter of time until Sanzio turned on him, and the
most confusing thing about it? Abrahan didn't know
why
.