Nick?”
“Yes, except on the weekends. I usually walk down around five-thirty in the morning on weekends. Weekdays, I seldom see anyone until nine out here, except a couple joggers.”
“Are you going to write me into your next book?” Rachel watched Jean poke into a tide pool while Deke romped around her, expecting something to be dislodged from the water.
Nick shook his head, snorting derisively.
“Why don’t I just surrender myself to the law while I’m at it? This writing gig is supposed to be a cover for us not an autobiography.”
“Don’t you write Diego’s adventures using your own hits as a template of sorts?”
Nick stared at Rachel as if she had sprouted a horn out of her forehead until Rachel started laughing.
“Okay, I’m stupid. Tell me why.”
“Think about it, Rachel. How many plots using real life hits would it take before someone saw a pattern? I thought you were an up and coming psycho. Now, I’m afraid you’ll have to be satisfied with simply being the decorous wife cover.”
“That’s so cute. You were going to train me to be a psycho like you.” It was Rachel’s turn to stare grimly at Nick. “Don’t law enforcement people figure out a connection when you arrive somewhere supposedly doing research and someone ends up dead? Forget I asked. This is where you say
I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you
.”
“Let’s just say I’m a bit more devious. When the mark arrives where needed, I’m staying on the same continent. You can cross many borders in a short space of time in Europe, especially when some very strong strings get pulled. Intel is the key, coupled with area familiarity. It helps if the mark won’t be missed by anyone important, and doesn’t get discovered until I’m far away. Having you and possibly Jean along, staying where I’m researching, will allay virtually all local suspicion.”
“Do you ever kill anyone in the US?”
“Tanus was my first here, and he wasn’t sanctioned. I’ve had business offshore though.”
“I could get used to the in-betweens around here.” Rachel clasped Nick’s hand. “Maybe I do have some psycho in me.”
* * * *
They sat together in silence for a moment, watching Jean and Deke. Nick patted her hand.
“Nah, you’re a survivor,” Nick looked up toward Ocean View Blvd. He saw Carol and Dan walking toward Otter’s Point. “Here come a couple old friends of mine you and Jean will like. I was hoping we made it down here early enough to see them. They know nothing about me other than I’m a novelist.”
“You have friends?” Rachel’s face dropped comically into open mouthed wonder, drawing laughter from Nick. “You’re a more personable psycho than you’ve led me to believe.”
“Repartee is a dual-edged sword, Kimmy,” Nick retorted, standing and helping a now growling Rachel to her feet.
“I…hate…that…name!” Rachel whispered through clenched teeth as Dan and Carol descended to the beach area waving animatedly.
“Well, damn. What the hell have you gone and done, boy?” Dan asked gruffly, shaking Nick’s hand while smiling brightly at Rachel.
“Dan!” Carol cringed before holding her hand out to Rachel. “Hi, I’m Carol Lewis and big mouth here is my husband Dan.”
“Dan, Carol…I’d like you to meet Rachel Hunter.” Nick caught up on the introductions. “The little girl over there is Jean and the mutt is named Deke.”
“Very happy to meet you,” Rachel shook Carol’s hand, happy to hear her real name after so long.
“Did Nick order a family from an on-line catalogue without telling us?” Dan smiled at Rachel, taking her hand in both his weathered ones. “You do realize you’ve taken up with a serial killer, right?”
Nick grinned, noting as Rachel nodded gamely, covering up for the split second of utter confusion that rolled over her.
“Why yes, I believe he did mention something about being a cold blooded murderer. That’s why I brought the
Charlaine Harris, Patricia Briggs, Jim Butcher, Karen Chance, P. N. Elrod, Rachel Caine, Faith Hunter, Caitlin Kittredge, Jenna Maclane, Jennifer van Dyck, Christian Rummel, Gayle Hendrix, Dina Pearlman, Marc Vietor, Therese Plummer, Karen Chapman