Cold Blooded (15 page)

“Having Suzan and her kids over a day after you whacked their security guy would be unthinkable for anyone human…no offense meant.” She smiled at him, leaning a little so she could see his reaction.

“None taken.” Nick pulled the Escalade into the open garage and shut the door. “It’s all the more reason to have them over. I don’t suppose you’d like to model your black bikini for me until Suzan arrives with the kids for the barbeque.”

“You write some more Diego and research Jim Benoit. I’ll prepare everything for our get together.”

“Throw the potatoes into the microwave, brush barbeque sauce on the steaks, cut up the French bread, and boil the corn on the cob. That’s about five minutes work. You’d have a long time left to model,” Nick pointed out as he exited the Escalade.

“Ever hear the old Jim Croce song ‘You Don’t Mess Around With Jim’?” Rachel began singing as she danced into the house. “You don't tug on Superman's cape. You don't spit into the wind. You don't pull the mask off that old Lone Ranger, and you don't mess around with…Nick.”

Nick laughed.
Damn, she can carry a tune too
. “Ah…when I was asking you to model the black bikini, I wasn’t considering it as a prelude to unarmed combat, Rach.”

Rachel spun around, only to find Nick had covered the intervening space more quickly than she had anticipated. “Weren’t you? Why don’t we take a step back for the time being? I haven’t been assimilated completely into my new Terminator mentality yet.”

“Sure,” he agreed, taking her left hand in his right at the doorway. “I wasn’t trying to give you a hard time.”

“Yes you were.” She smirked at his double entendre, putting her right palm against his chest as he moved closer. Nick’s nearness, coupled with Jean’s absence, forced the more unpleasant aspects of the day before from her mind. “Hey, you’re invading my airspace.”

He pulled her right hand away from his chest and down to her side. They had dressed casually, he in t-shirt and jeans, Rachel in a burgundy cotton dress. As he forced her hands back around her hips, very little material separated them. She looked away from his face, feeling the heated flush enveloping her from where their bodies touched. Nick drew her tightly against him, making sure she had no question what the ‘hard time’ he had in mind really was. Deke stuck his nose up under Rachel’s dress, touching cold wet nose to bare back of thigh. Rachel jumped away from Nick with a cry of surprise. She laughed, seeing Deke sitting between her and Nick, looking questioningly from one to the other.

“Thanks Deke. Good of you to stick your nose into my business, Butthead.”

Rachel, her hand still suppressing her laughter, watched Nick frown and then grin at the attentive Deke. He shrugged and walked around her. “I’ll be up in my room on the computer if you need me. Maybe I can get Diego laid.”

Rachel bent down to pet Deke. The dog sat still for a moment under her hand, but then ran to catch up with Nick. She straightened slowly, her body tingling where it had been pressed close to him. She walked over to close the sliding glass door he had left open for Deke, and lowered the thermostat setting. As Nick had predicted, it took her only minutes to get everything for the barbeque ready to go, including setting the table. He had eight full place settings stored neatly in the cupboard on the side of his kitchen sink. The closer she came to being done, the more she glanced toward the stairs. Even with the air conditioning working full blast, sweat beaded on her face. Her pulse quickened as she considered excuses to visit his bedroom.
Why didn’t you just strip for him before he went upstairs
?

Rachel looked at the clock.
Damn, it’s only a few minutes to one
. She wet a paper towel and used it to cool her face. After taking two sodas out of the refrigerator, Rachel walked to the stairs, pausing to second guess her course of action once again. A full minute passed, and she nearly returned to the kitchen. With a small grunt of annoyance, she stepped decisively up the stairs, halting only when she was standing outside Nick’s open bedroom door. He sat at a small desk across the room with his back to the doorway.

“I brought you a soda,” she announced.

“Thanks.” He didn’t look up from his notebook computer where he typed at a rapid pace. “Just set it down on the night stand.”

She did as he asked before unzipping her dress and shrugging out of it noiselessly. Wearing only a red thong and low-heeled black shoes, she approached him with growing apprehension and rising excitement. Nick stopped typing as Rachel’s hands clasped his upper arms.

“I don’t type well with company watching over my shoulder,” he said in a joking manner, attention focused on his fictional assassin’s abstract life, with a writer’s tunnel vision concentration. “I…”

She felt his body tense as she leaned into him, her bare breasts pressing into his neck.

“On second thought, I think I can work through an interruption.” He spoke without turning, his hands reaching behind the chair to stroke her legs.

“I thought perhaps you might need some inspiration in creating a difficult scene like Diego getting laid,” she explained in a husky whisper, moving in small, slow, side to side motions. “I figured maybe I could be your…what do writers turn to for inspiration…a…?”

“Muse,” Nick finished for her. Leaning back, he stroked her bare skin from upper rear thighs to rear calves, fingers kneading the flesh momentarily at the sensitive area behind her knees. “I have a good feeling about this collaboration, Ms. Muse.”

“You’ll take your time, though, going over the rough spots, right?”

“Absolutely.”

Rachel lay naked across Nick, their bodies entwined tightly. Her chest heaved against his, trying to draw breath, while at the same time unable for the moment to move her limbs. Bathed in sweat, the two had been immobile for the last couple minutes. Nick stroked her sides, his touch eliciting a moan from Rachel, who propped herself up momentarily, and then rolled onto her back. She reached over his chest to cup his chin with her right hand. She shook his chin, making an admonishing noise in her throat as she took a deep breath.

“Nick…you…dog.”

“I was innocently writing about an assassin. I was seduced against…well…okay, not against my will, but at least in spite of my will.”

“Just because I innocently flirted with you does not give – ”

“Flirted?” He sprung up into a sitting position, growling as he reached for her. “Don’t touch me!” She squealed, trapped under him, her hands captured and held to her sides.

When he leaned into her, his mouth sealed off more exclamations. He released her hands, and her arms wound once again around his neck. She twisted under him, and drew her hands to his chest, pushing him away reluctantly.

“It’s nearly three-thirty, Nick. We…we have to get ready.”

“Eventually,” he whispered, his lips trailing down over her chin, throat, and between her breasts, pausing to glance up into her eyes only when he reached her stomach. “Are you sure?”

“Please let me go.” Her hands gripped his shoulders, unable to push him away, as reality battled desire with weak resolve.

Nick spun away and off the bed, turning to give Rachel a hand up onto her feet.

“Thank you.” She kissed him, trying to ignore his obvious state of tension.

“Want me to take a shower with you…you know…to save water?”

“No!” She broke away from him, pointing a finger in his direction as she backed away. “You stay right there.”

Half an hour later, Nick showered quickly, thinking ahead to how he would question Suzan without getting her guard up. The faint sound of the phone ringing through the open bathroom door roused him from his deliberation.

“Nick!” Rachel cried out as she ran into the bathroom with Deke close behind, the dog sensing her fear. “They have Jean!”

Nick threw open the shower door and grabbed a towel. In a glance, he saw Rachel's terror. Her fists were clenched, and she hunched slightly forward, trying to control the obvious panic threatening to overcome every other thought. He dried in a rush, putting an arm around Rachel while guiding her toward the bedroom. He pushed her down on his bed.

“Take a deep breath and tell me only the facts,” he ordered, hurriedly pulling on his clothes.

Rachel breathed deeply, setting the nightmarish conversation with Suzan firmly in her mind with effort. Tears welled up as she fought down sobs. “Two men…came to her house. She recognized them as friends of the security guy, Brewster, and let them in. They were looking for Brewster. When…when they saw Jean…they…they -”

“Easy, Rach, you’re doing fine,” Nick soothed, sitting down, and pulling her close. “Keep going.”

“One of the bastards took all the kids with him.” Her body heaved under his arm in a mixture of rage and terror. “The other one…he’s with Suzan. He wants us over there now. Would they trade Jean for me and let her go?”

“They’ve kidnapped Suzan’s kids, too, and her husband’s an exec somewhere in the hierarchy they plan on scoring from. These guys aren’t trading anything. We have two things going for us: one, they don’t know what happened to Brewster, and two, they don’t know anything about me. We need to find out how much they know and what they want.”

“Tell me what you need me to do.” Rachel wiped her eyes.

“Act like a mom with her kid in danger. I’ll be supportive, just a friend along to comfort you. I’m hoping the guy at Suzan’s house will give us some hint as to what they have planned. I need an Oscar-winning performance from you once you’re near him. Collapse crying at his feet, but not too near. I’ll lean down to comfort you and then we play psycho. If I miss my chance, or something goes wrong, don’t wait for an invitation. This guy will be the key to getting Jean back.”

“I’m ready. Let’s get going.”

“He’ll have Suzan let us in so our chance won’t come right away,” he added, following her out of the room and down the stairs. “Under no circumstances do we let this mook tie us up.”

Nick ran around to the passenger side of the Escalade when they reached Suzan’s house, supporting a sobbing Rachel to the Benoit’s front door. Suzan held open the screen door for them before they reached the entrance. Nick noticed the left side of Suzan’s face was swollen. A man wearing a button up, khaki, short sleeve shirt and dark brown slacks stood about ten feet inside the doorway, covering their entrance with a silenced automatic. He was at least a couple inches taller than Nick, and thirty pounds heavier, mostly in his gut. Although probably in his late thirties, the man’s thin brown hair was arranged in a comb over.

“Close the door, sweetie, and sit your ass down there on the couch,” the man said to Suzan. “Now then, you two strip down to your underwear.”

“But…” Rachel started to protest.

“Do it, Rachel,” Nick urged, looking fearfully at the man as he quickly stripped out of his shoes, jeans, and t-shirt.

Rachel took off her shorts, and then her blouse. Not having a bra on, she covered herself with folded arms. The tears flowing down her cheeks needed very little acting ability on her part.

“Now then, you can call me Joe. I need some questions answered. If you hesitate in answering, I’ll have to get mean. As you can see, I don’t need to worry about noise, at least not from my gun.”

“Sure…whatever you say,” Nick agreed. “Please, we just want Jean back.”

“We’ll do anything…anything,” Rachel added with a heartfelt sob.

“Good.” Joe nodded, smiling. “First off, where the hell is Brewster?”

“Brewster came over yesterday and showed us a picture of Jean and Rachel,” Nick blurted out. “He said he wanted ten thousand dollars to keep his mouth shut. We agreed to pay him. I gave him the money. He gave us the picture and left, saying maybe we wouldn’t see him again.”

“Shit!” Joe showed real anger for the first time. “You had ten thousand at your house?”

“I…I have a vault.” Nick could tell Joe believed Brewster would have taken off with the money.

“How much more do you have in there?” Joe asked, his voice calming down.

“About thirty grand,” Nick said with enthusiasm. “It’s all yours. Just let -”

“Well now, I think we might work something out,” Joe cut him off. “I need your little lady here to take me wherever she has the safety deposit box everyone’s looking for. My partner and I heard there are some very valuable items in it. Jean and the rest of you will have to stay here so Ms. Rachel will be cooperative.”

“Please, Joe!” Rachel cried out, falling forward on her knees, pleading. “Let Jean go. I’ll go with you and get what you want. Don’t -”

Nick crouched next to her, putting comforting hands on her shoulders. He saw Joe take a half step back, enjoying the view. Joe glanced at Suzan, and Nick launched into the man’s gun hand, grabbing Joe’s right wrist with his right hand. Nick slapped the barrel of the 9mm automatic up as Joe pulled the trigger. Twisting the weapon up against Joe’s thumb, Nick ripped the gun from the startled Joe’s hand. In the next split second, Nick controlled the silenced automatic and fired point blank into both of Joe’s kneecaps. The man screamed in agony, falling backwards to the floor, hugging his injured legs.

“Get dressed, Rachel,” Nick ordered, pulling her to her feet. “Suzan, go get some plastic garbage bags, and drag one of your kitchen chairs in here. Hurry!”

“Who…who are you?” Suzan stared at Nick in horror.

“No time, Suzan,” Nick replied sternly, locking eyes with her momentarily. “Do as I say and we’ll have the kids back safe and sound. Give her a hand, Rachel.”

Suzan nodded her understanding. She ran into the kitchen. Rachel followed, buttoning her blouse. They returned moments later with a kitchen chair and the large black plastic trash bags. Joe had stopped screaming. His mouth and eyes were clenched shut as he rocked slightly on the floor in a fetal position. Nick motioned Rachel over next to him.