Chapter 4
Jack
As soon as I get into my Uber, I call my counterpart, Kyle, who’s watching out for Mel and the kids while I take the night off. “Hey buddy, can you take another few days for me?”
“Same pay?” Even through the connection I can tell he’s grinning, thinking how he’s going to rob me blind.
“Yeah, same pay.” I figure it’ll be worth every penny if I can keep the pretty doctor safe.
“It’s early, dude. I thought you had a hot date.” Kyle is hoping for some details but should know me better by now. I never kiss and tell.
“We’re finished.”
He snickers and, in the background, the volume of some movie goes way down. “You strike out?”
“Not really. I’m going with her to Utah tomorrow.” I grin, imagining her surprise when she sees me at the airport.
“Seriously? You’re off to the magical land of bigamy?”
The Uber cuts across Fifty-Seventh then barrels down Eight Avenue. “I’ll give you the details when I get home but don’t tell Mel. I don’t want her worrying. She’s worse than a mother hen.”
Suddenly, Kyle’s voice turns serious. “Whoa there, Jack. Exactly what’re you planning?”
I put my tablet on my lap. “The lady I dated tonight is doing some fucking documentary on some cult. Hold on for a few minutes, I need to check some things out.”
He waits quietly while I access the Patten Securities database and plug in her name. I find her driver’s license and dig up her birth certificate. From there, it isn’t hard to find the names of the seven brothers who started the Church of Heavenly Bliss.
Taking a deep breath, I text Kyle the name of the cult and he whistles under his breath. “You sure stepped in a big steaming pile, brother.”
I probably break a few dozen more laws by finding which flight she’s on but I’m not letting her out of my sight. By the time I’m done, I’m home and Kyle’s sitting at my kitchen table with his laptop out.
He looks up at me. “Did you get the name of the film company doing the documentary?”
“Not yet, but I will.”
“Shedoesknow how dangerous this is?” Still researching, he shakes his head and hands me his computer.
“I tried to tell her but she showed me her weapon, a fucking Glock in her purse.”
“Are you shitting me?”
“I wish. And thanks for keeping Mel safe. Can you check up on Rasha, too? Slate put some new guy on her.”
“Copy that.”
I pack a bag, put my weapon into a carrying case with its permit, and set my alarm.
Early the next morning, I call Slate on the way to the airport. In the background, his girlfriend, Lilac, mutters something about just getting to bed.
“Sorry. Did I wake you?” I forget they keep odd hours.
“Nah. Never went to sleep. Lilac just got back from her ER shift. What’s up?”
“I’m guessing you heard what happened at Talon. Thanks for sending someone to guard Rasha. Is he any good?”
Bed springs creak, sheets rustle, and his voice gets clearer. “One of the best.”
“Tell him I got a feeling there may be more trouble but that’s not why I called. I’m on my way to JFK. I got Kyle covering Mel and the kids.” The car slows when it hits the tunnel and he winks out.
