Free a Touch of the Past (An Everly Gray Adventure) by L. j. Charles

out a loud growl. "Guess so," I said, rubbing away the grumbling sounds.  
    Annie used the facilities, then we jogged downstairs, across the parking lot, and piled into the Jeep. Wait. Not a military green Ford truck. A white Jeep with a rental sticker in the corner of the windshield. "What happened to the truck?"  
    "Swapped it out. Jeeps blend. Military vehicles don’t."  
    I didn’t even bother to ask who or how, just reveled in the openness. There were no doors, no roof, and the breeze shot through the open vehicle, bathing me in the rich, moist scent of the islands.  
    And then reality crashed in. "How come we’re in an open vehicle when someone has been taking pot shots at us?"
    Pierce grinned. "Hiding in plain sight."
    Annie glared.  
    And then Pierce added the clincher. "If they want to kill you, the windshield isn’t gonna stop them."
    He had a point, one that raised my blood pressure a few notches. But if I was about to take a shot in the head, I was at least going to enjoy the wind whipping around my body while I waited.  
    I took in the scenery until Pierce pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant. An impossible-to-miss, red neon sign said Zippy’s.  
    "I've noticed a lot of these restaurants around town," I said, climbing out of the Jeep. "So, the food must be good, right?" Pierce winked. "I’m in the mood for Hawaiian stew, and they have the best."  
    "Hawaiian stew?" I let the idea roll around in my mind. "How’s that different from regular stew?"  
    "You’ll see," Annie said.  
    They flanked me as we made our way across the parking lot. "Don’t you think two bodyguards are overkill?"  
    "No." It was a single syllable in stereo.  
    Annie glared at Pierce. "Don’t you think a vehicle with doors and a roof would’ve been a better choice."
    "Too normal. Expected. The Jeep gives better cover."  
    I really wanted to be done with conversations that focused on my demise, so I changed the topic. "You’ve been to Hawaii, Annie?"  
    "Few times."  
    So much for conversation.  
    The restaurant wasn't busy, and a plump young woman with dark features seated us right away. "I'm Kanani," she said, introducing herself. "I can bring you something to drink, yah?"
    She pulled a pencil from the knot of hair on the top of her head and tapped out a rhythm on her notepad.
    Annie and I ordered Diet Cokes, and Pierce stayed with the water she'd brought when she seated us.  
    I started to open the menu, but Pierce snatched it from my hand, stacked it on top of his and Annie's, then handed them to Kanani.  
    "Three Hawaiian stews." He gave her a grin filled with straight, white teeth. The one that makes every woman for miles around melt at his feet. Kanani simpered and hurried off to do his bidding.
    "Guess I’m having Hawaiian stew." I folded my arms across my chest. "Not to change the subject or anything, but do you wanna talk about who the hell was shooting at us today?"  
    "Nope."  
    "Huh," I grunted. This wasn’t going well. "Do you think it’s gonna happen again?"  
    "Yep."  
    "That’s just super duper. I’m thinking I’d like to know who wants me dead. And Annie might have a point about doors and a roof on the Jeep."  
    I carefully watched his expression.
    Annie wouldn’t look at me.
    "Don’t either of you know someone to call so we can find out what’s going on? That’s what black op super spies do, isn’t it? You know bullets make me twitchy—especially when they whiz by my head."
    Silence.
    Pierce angled his head in my direction. "Told you they weren’t trying to kill you, or they wouldn’t have missed."
    Resentment bubbled, and I considered poking at their super spy façade. Maybe try to guilt them into spilling all sorts of confidential information. Problem was, I had a secret, too, and wasn’t about to share my newly discovered grandfather with them. Not after my grandma had been murdered on their watch.  
    Kanani reappeared, placing three large, steaming bowls on the