planning on any deep-space exploring.”
“Very funny, Borg. I’ll call Eve and get some of her blue pills.”
“Hi, Elle,” another schmuck interrupted, waving at her.
“Hi, sweetie,” she answered, offering him a smile. Jack turned to her and she shrugged and whispered, “Can’t remember his name, but he makes to-die-for daiquiris. And knows all the names of the pulsars.”
“Are you acquainted with every-fucking-body here?” Which was amazing, considering all her extracurricular activities and how much time she actually spent away.
“I’m friendly and talk to people, not like others.”
“I’m friendly enough,” Jack muttered.
“Sure, for a bloodthirsty, inarticulate terminator you are,” she said, going in the direction opposite from where the car was parked.
“Now what?”
“A short stop.”
“A detour to learn how to restore old buildings?”
“Ha-ha. I agreed to get a mani with the girls. It’s just here around the corner.”
“I don’t think so,” Jack growled, but his cell rang, and when he saw that the caller was Mullen, he decided that fighting with Elle had to wait.
“Jack here,” he said, answering the call while she sprinted to the beauty salon. “Any news?”
“Maldonado is back in the US. We subpoenaed all the videos from the airport. We’ve placed Aalto at the airport, but not near Maldonado’s jet, which, by the way, was spotless.”
No surprise there. The second he realized the body had been found, he must have started covering his bases. Major criminals didn’t make it that long without taking precautions.
“We’re going through Aalto’s computers with a fine-tooth comb, but so far we haven’t found anything.”
“Using Elle is not an option,” Jack warned, already foreseeing where Mullen was heading.
“You know she would want to testify. Bring her friend’s killer to justice.”
“Please spare me the bullshit. What about the two bodyguards? Have you turned the heat up on them?”
“Escudero and his niece have disappeared.”
If Elle would be more agreeable, Jack would consider leaving her under someone else’s watch and go to Florida himself to sort that mess out. He was not a cop, so he didn’t have to play by the same rules; he would get results much faster. Too bad Elle would eat her keeper alive. She’d smile and bat her eyelashes, and the poor devil would be doing her bidding in no time.
He knew firsthand; he was waiting outside a beauty salon. How fucked up was that? He hadn’t done shit like that since Ronnie.
“And the autopsy? Any leads there?”
“No bullets recovered if that’s what you are asking. They couldn’t find any injury inconsistent with plunging twelve thousand feet at a hundred twenty-five miles per hour. There wasn’t a single bone unbroken.”
Fuck.
“Oh and Copeland?” Mullen said from the other side of the line, taking Jack out of his musing. “The NSA is sniffing around, extremely interested in getting Maldonado. So far the FBI is coordinating the whole operation, but if they decide to take over, we will have to hand the whole investigation to them.”
That wouldn’t happen. Jack would make sure of it. Having the NSA involved would mean more people knowing about Elle. Unacceptable.
After disconnecting the call, he took a deep breath and entered the beauty salon.
“You have a back exit in there?” he asked the befuddled girl behind the counter, who shook her head. “Windows that open into the street?” Another head shake.
He didn’t get why those questions always left people flabbergasted. First thing he did when entering a place was study the layout. Entrance and exit points. Shit happened no matter what, but there was no excuse for letting it surprise you.
Satisfied with the clerk’s answer, he nodded and sat down. No risk of Elle disappearing. Not that he hadn’t covered her with bugs, because he had—one could never be too safe when dealing with such a nutcase—but he didn’t want
“Very funny, Borg. I’ll call Eve and get some of her blue pills.”
“Hi, Elle,” another schmuck interrupted, waving at her.
“Hi, sweetie,” she answered, offering him a smile. Jack turned to her and she shrugged and whispered, “Can’t remember his name, but he makes to-die-for daiquiris. And knows all the names of the pulsars.”
“Are you acquainted with every-fucking-body here?” Which was amazing, considering all her extracurricular activities and how much time she actually spent away.
“I’m friendly and talk to people, not like others.”
“I’m friendly enough,” Jack muttered.
“Sure, for a bloodthirsty, inarticulate terminator you are,” she said, going in the direction opposite from where the car was parked.
“Now what?”
“A short stop.”
“A detour to learn how to restore old buildings?”
“Ha-ha. I agreed to get a mani with the girls. It’s just here around the corner.”
“I don’t think so,” Jack growled, but his cell rang, and when he saw that the caller was Mullen, he decided that fighting with Elle had to wait.
“Jack here,” he said, answering the call while she sprinted to the beauty salon. “Any news?”
“Maldonado is back in the US. We subpoenaed all the videos from the airport. We’ve placed Aalto at the airport, but not near Maldonado’s jet, which, by the way, was spotless.”
No surprise there. The second he realized the body had been found, he must have started covering his bases. Major criminals didn’t make it that long without taking precautions.
“We’re going through Aalto’s computers with a fine-tooth comb, but so far we haven’t found anything.”
“Using Elle is not an option,” Jack warned, already foreseeing where Mullen was heading.
“You know she would want to testify. Bring her friend’s killer to justice.”
“Please spare me the bullshit. What about the two bodyguards? Have you turned the heat up on them?”
“Escudero and his niece have disappeared.”
If Elle would be more agreeable, Jack would consider leaving her under someone else’s watch and go to Florida himself to sort that mess out. He was not a cop, so he didn’t have to play by the same rules; he would get results much faster. Too bad Elle would eat her keeper alive. She’d smile and bat her eyelashes, and the poor devil would be doing her bidding in no time.
He knew firsthand; he was waiting outside a beauty salon. How fucked up was that? He hadn’t done shit like that since Ronnie.
“And the autopsy? Any leads there?”
“No bullets recovered if that’s what you are asking. They couldn’t find any injury inconsistent with plunging twelve thousand feet at a hundred twenty-five miles per hour. There wasn’t a single bone unbroken.”
Fuck.
“Oh and Copeland?” Mullen said from the other side of the line, taking Jack out of his musing. “The NSA is sniffing around, extremely interested in getting Maldonado. So far the FBI is coordinating the whole operation, but if they decide to take over, we will have to hand the whole investigation to them.”
That wouldn’t happen. Jack would make sure of it. Having the NSA involved would mean more people knowing about Elle. Unacceptable.
After disconnecting the call, he took a deep breath and entered the beauty salon.
“You have a back exit in there?” he asked the befuddled girl behind the counter, who shook her head. “Windows that open into the street?” Another head shake.
He didn’t get why those questions always left people flabbergasted. First thing he did when entering a place was study the layout. Entrance and exit points. Shit happened no matter what, but there was no excuse for letting it surprise you.
Satisfied with the clerk’s answer, he nodded and sat down. No risk of Elle disappearing. Not that he hadn’t covered her with bugs, because he had—one could never be too safe when dealing with such a nutcase—but he didn’t want
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