cigarette.
She removed her hand from the leather bag. Killing one person was manageable. Killing two was messy. Too messy for Marta.
She opened the front door, and the black guy with the cigarette grunted a polite but detached New York hello. The white guy followed her out of the building and stood at the top of the front steps.
“Happy trails, Professor,” he said.
She walked down the steps and onto Perry Street.
She’d be back. To kill Matthew Bannon and the redneck bastard from apartment 1.
Chapter 37
Getting through airport security at JFK turned out to be a snap. For me. I breezed through with my multimillion-dollar carry-on.
Katherine, on the other hand, got caught red-handed, carrying a five-ounce tube of toothpaste into a three-ounce world.
She was stopped by a TSA screener—a chunky Hispanic woman wearing a government-issue white shirt, black pants, blue latex gloves, a gold badge, and a name tag that said MORALES.
“I’m going to have to confiscate this,” the screener said, pointing at the toothpaste.
“I know the three-ounce rule,” Katherine said. “And yes, this is a five-ounce tube. But it’s more than half empty. There’s maybe only two ounces left.”
“I appreciate that, Miss,” Morales said, “but you really don’t know the rule. All liquids, gels, and aerosols must be in three-ounce or smaller containers. Larger containers that are half-full or toothpaste tubes that are rolled up are not allowed on the aircraft.”
“You’re joking,” Katherine said.
“Miss, we do not joke here.”
“For God’s sake,” Katherine said, “what do you think I’m going to do with half a tube of toothpaste? Blo—?”
I clamped my hand on Katherine’s mouth before she could say the four words that would land us both in jail— blow up the plane.
Katherine pulled away. “Matt, what the hell are you doing?” she barked as two more security screeners stepped in and flanked us on both sides.
“I’ll tell you what he’s doing, Miss,” Morales said. “He’s saving your ass. Now, unless you want to miss your flight to Paris, you’d be smart to toss that toothpaste in that bin and be on your merry way.”
I squeezed Katherine’s arm gently. “Please,” I said. “I promise I’ll buy you toothpaste in Paris.”
“This is Tom’s of Maine,” she said. “They won’t have it in Paris.”
“I’ll buy you French toothpaste. They make the best in the world.”
“This one is called Tom’s Wicked Fresh and it’s all natural and it keeps my breath fresh for hours. It’s the only one I use.”
I leaned close to her and whispered in her ear. “You may find this hard to believe, but we are about five seconds from being arrested, strip-searched, and thrown in jail for the night. I’ve never asked you to do anything for me on blind faith, but I’m asking you now. Please, please, please, give the nice lady your toothpaste, don’t utter another word, and I promise you that tomorrow morning we will be checking into our hotel, racing up to our room, peeling off our clothes, snuggling under the sheets, and I will kiss you over and over and over, even if your breath smells like a Paris sewer. Please?”
She tossed the toothpaste in the bin.
“Have a nice flight,” Morales said.
“Thank you,” I said, bowing my head. “Thank you.”
Morales smiled. She knew what I was thanking her for.
I only wished I could have told her that she might have saved the world from Tom’s toothpaste but she missed the guy who was leaving the country with a bag full of diamonds he stole from a dead Russian.
Chapter 38
“Let’s find a bar, ” I said as I propelled Katherine as far from security as I could. “I need a drink.”
We found a little place close to our gate that served burgers and beer. I had one of each. Katherine didn’t want either, so she decided to backtrack to the Starbucks we had seen as we walked through the terminal.
I sat at a small table, munching my burger, which
She removed her hand from the leather bag. Killing one person was manageable. Killing two was messy. Too messy for Marta.
She opened the front door, and the black guy with the cigarette grunted a polite but detached New York hello. The white guy followed her out of the building and stood at the top of the front steps.
“Happy trails, Professor,” he said.
She walked down the steps and onto Perry Street.
She’d be back. To kill Matthew Bannon and the redneck bastard from apartment 1.
Chapter 37
Getting through airport security at JFK turned out to be a snap. For me. I breezed through with my multimillion-dollar carry-on.
Katherine, on the other hand, got caught red-handed, carrying a five-ounce tube of toothpaste into a three-ounce world.
She was stopped by a TSA screener—a chunky Hispanic woman wearing a government-issue white shirt, black pants, blue latex gloves, a gold badge, and a name tag that said MORALES.
“I’m going to have to confiscate this,” the screener said, pointing at the toothpaste.
“I know the three-ounce rule,” Katherine said. “And yes, this is a five-ounce tube. But it’s more than half empty. There’s maybe only two ounces left.”
“I appreciate that, Miss,” Morales said, “but you really don’t know the rule. All liquids, gels, and aerosols must be in three-ounce or smaller containers. Larger containers that are half-full or toothpaste tubes that are rolled up are not allowed on the aircraft.”
“You’re joking,” Katherine said.
“Miss, we do not joke here.”
“For God’s sake,” Katherine said, “what do you think I’m going to do with half a tube of toothpaste? Blo—?”
I clamped my hand on Katherine’s mouth before she could say the four words that would land us both in jail— blow up the plane.
Katherine pulled away. “Matt, what the hell are you doing?” she barked as two more security screeners stepped in and flanked us on both sides.
“I’ll tell you what he’s doing, Miss,” Morales said. “He’s saving your ass. Now, unless you want to miss your flight to Paris, you’d be smart to toss that toothpaste in that bin and be on your merry way.”
I squeezed Katherine’s arm gently. “Please,” I said. “I promise I’ll buy you toothpaste in Paris.”
“This is Tom’s of Maine,” she said. “They won’t have it in Paris.”
“I’ll buy you French toothpaste. They make the best in the world.”
“This one is called Tom’s Wicked Fresh and it’s all natural and it keeps my breath fresh for hours. It’s the only one I use.”
I leaned close to her and whispered in her ear. “You may find this hard to believe, but we are about five seconds from being arrested, strip-searched, and thrown in jail for the night. I’ve never asked you to do anything for me on blind faith, but I’m asking you now. Please, please, please, give the nice lady your toothpaste, don’t utter another word, and I promise you that tomorrow morning we will be checking into our hotel, racing up to our room, peeling off our clothes, snuggling under the sheets, and I will kiss you over and over and over, even if your breath smells like a Paris sewer. Please?”
She tossed the toothpaste in the bin.
“Have a nice flight,” Morales said.
“Thank you,” I said, bowing my head. “Thank you.”
Morales smiled. She knew what I was thanking her for.
I only wished I could have told her that she might have saved the world from Tom’s toothpaste but she missed the guy who was leaving the country with a bag full of diamonds he stole from a dead Russian.
Chapter 38
“Let’s find a bar, ” I said as I propelled Katherine as far from security as I could. “I need a drink.”
We found a little place close to our gate that served burgers and beer. I had one of each. Katherine didn’t want either, so she decided to backtrack to the Starbucks we had seen as we walked through the terminal.
I sat at a small table, munching my burger, which
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