“My money’s on the tire iron,” Britt deadpanned. The smell of axel grease was strong in the shop this morning, but not as strong as the coffee Eliza held in her hand. He could see the steam rising from the mug and rethought his response. “Scratch that. Ten to one she dumps her coffee over his head.”
“I hear Northwestern Memorial has a decent burn unit.”
“Question is, do we call an ambulance or pull the child seats out of Becky’s car, load him up, and drive him ourselves?”
Before Hewitt could answer, Eliza took a step closer to Fisher. Hewitt and Britt both held their breath, waiting to see what violence would follow.
“My father is expecting my summary tomorrow,” she growled menacingly but, thankfully, didn’t resort to death-by-scalding coffee. “Thepresidentis expecting it too. And here I am stuck between a rock and someone I’d like to hit with it!”
“I’ll finish it this afternoon,” Fisher assured her cooly, refusing to match her animation and only pissing her off more because of it. “Until then, have a nice day…somewhereelse.”
Eliza threw a hand in the air. “I can’t have a nice day when I’m going out of my mind. I haven’t left this stinking factory intwo weeks.I haven’t even seen the sun! Oooohhh!” She stomped her foot, then turned on her heel to march angrily toward the kitchen.
To keep from committing homicide, no doubt. Smart girl.
She stopped in her tracks, however, when her phone chimed in her pocket. Lifting the device to her ear, she barked, “What?” Her tone was instantly contrite when she quickly added, “Sorry, Geralt. I didn’t mean to bite your head off. But I’ve got the worst case of cabin fever you can imagine, andFisherisn’t helping matters by?—”
She quit talking and walked over to the television screen hung next to the front door. “Really?” Now there was curiosity and maybe a bit of excitement in her voice. “Are they coming to tell me this is all over and I can go back to having a life instead of hiding in this sunless hovel? A hovel that’s home to the world’s most frustrating troll, I might add.”
Britt felt a little kick of adrenaline. Tilting his head around the bike frame, he saw on the monitor that Agents O’Toole and Douglas stood at the front gate.
Julia…
He’d made it a point not to think of her for the past two weeks.
Had he rewatched everyStar Warsmovie and TV series ever made in the interim? Sure. But he hadnotthought about her.
And dreams don’t count because I don’t have any control over them.
He wiped his hands on his jeans. His palms were suddenly sweaty. So was his brow. He dashed his forearm across it.
“What’s with you all of a sudden?” Hewitt lifted a bushy eyebrow. “You coming down with something?”
“Nah.” Britt shook his head. “It’s just hot in here.”
Hewitt narrowed his eyes but refrained from calling bullshit.
Hewitt could be counted on to keep his mouth shut, and Britt decided he’d never given the man enough credit for that particular trait.
He watched on the television monitor as Julia and her partner made their way across the grounds after Geralt opened the gate. Her pantsuit was black. Her shirt was gray. But instead of her usual ponytail, she’d piled her long, blond hair atop her head in a sloppy bun.
It suited her.
But maybe he thought that because it gave him an idea of how she’d look postcoitus, hair all tousled and messy.
Before he could stop them, his feet had skirted the bike lift and were taking him across the shop to the front door. “Ozzie!” he called. “Cut the music, man! The feds are here!”
Night Ranger, who’d been in the middle of singing about Sister Christian, immediately switched off. In the sudden silence, theclackingof Ozzie’s fingers on a keyboard sounded as loud as gunfire.
Britt nodded to Eliza. Ever-dutiful, she pressed her back against the brick wall beneath the TV screen so she didn’t present a target should someone nefarious be on any of the surrounding rooftops. Once he was assured of her safety, and before the FBI agents had time to knock, he threw the door wide.
The day was sunny and bright. Andhot.
Heat mirages waved atop the blacktop. But he noticed them as an aside. Because his eyes were instantly glued to Julia O’Toole.
Her brow was dewy-looking. Her button-down shirt was damp and wrinkled from the humidity. And she whipped off her wayfarer-style sunglasses when he said without preamble, “We meet again. At last. When I left you I was but the learner; now I am the master.”
Just as he’d hoped, her pale, pink lips quirked up in a smile. “Darth Vader’s famous line when he meets up with Obi-Wan inA New Hope.” She cocked her head. “Is this a thing with us now?”
