“Sure,” West said over the line. “Being a handler is different from being the operative.”
Raider pressed the phone to his ear, being careful of the earring. Was West’s head in the game? Only one way to find out. “How’s Pippa doing, anyway?” Pippa and West had moved in together the month before, after West had investigated her and a cult that was hunting her down. She’d been terrorized for years and had almost become a hermit.
West chuckled. “She’s doing well. Took on a new client—a high school—that’s driving her a little nuts, but she actually enjoys it. Says their books are a disaster, but nothing gets her logical mind going faster.”
It was nice to know one of them could find happiness. “How’s it having Wolfe for a neighbor?” He cut Wolfe a look, and his partner just rolled his eyes, concentrating on driving. When West had moved out of his bungalow and into Pippa’s next door, Wolfe had moved right in.
“Let’s just say he shows up at dinnertime a lot,” West said wryly. “It’s Pippa’s fault for being such a great cook and for enjoying cooking so much. She loves feeding the overgrown bastard.”
Raider couldn’t imagine actually enjoying cooking. Thank goodness Pippa often sent cookies and pies to the office.
“Now that you’re assured I’m on the job, let’s get to work.” West cleared his throat. “You need to get into character and remember that Wolfe can reach you within minutes if necessary.”
“Got it.” Raider said.
West coughed. “You ever been undercover longer than a week?”
“No. No longer than a couple of days, really.” Raider was usually the handler. He looked at his partner. Wolfe wore a yellow polo with “Hurley Water Supplies” above his left pocket, along with worn slacks and scuffed shoes. His buzz cut was growing out slightly, and when he’d checked them into the motel, he’d shuffled as if he truly was a down-on-his luck salesman and not an ex-soldier with issues. Wolfe was pretty good at this. “I don’t know how you did it for two years,” he said to West.
West sighed. “You have to embody the person you’re supposed to be. It’s not acting, it’s becoming.”
Raider nodded. “I acted like an ass last time.”
“Then you’re an ass,” West said easily. “Take the worst parts of your real personality and capitalize on those aspects. Forget about the cameras in your ears. They don’t exist. If you acknowledge they’re in place, you’ll act different and speak different from your cover. “Got it?”
“Yep. Thanks. We’ll call with details.” He clicked off.
“They like me eating at their house,” Wolfe said, taking another turn around the block.
“I’m sure they do.”
Wolfe glanced at him. “Okay. Let’s get you into the right mindset. Those diamond earrings are something else. What are they?”
Raider scratched his head. “My babe Brigid bought them for me the first time I gave her cash.”
“Good, though probably not enough true. Try again, and get your accent in place,” Wolfe said, taking a left by a bar called Deoch that had a newly painted bright green door.
All right. “An ex-girlfriend, one with crazy purple hair who was slightly nuts, gave me the earrings after getting me drunk and shoving a needle through my ears.” He barely kept from rubbing the aching lobes as he lapsed into the New York accent. “It bugs Brigid that I wear them still, but I like big diamonds.”
Wolfe slowed down behind a red truck. “Better. Truth will inflect in your voice when you talk about Agent Millicent Frost and her needle.”
“Millicent?” That name so did not fit the woman. Neither did Frost.
“Yep. How are the lobes? The shit she put on them after opening your piercings looked painful.” Wolfe took another left.
“Burns like hell,” Raider admitted. “But the gel is supposed to keep my earlobes from getting red or swelling from the recent insult to them, so I’m taking it as a good sign.” He couldn’t look like he’d just gotten them pierced. He ran through his cover again. “I think that Eddie’s headquarters is a working tavern, so any weapons will probably be under the bar and near the cash register.”
“Check,” Wolfe said, watching the few cars around them. “There will be a back room.”
“With computers and who knows what else.” Raider put himself firmly in character. “I’ve locked down my girlfriend and her father to keep them safe from Eddie, and neither are happy about it, but people in my organization do as I say.”
“How’d you get the bruise on your face?” Wolfe started throwing questions.
“Fight with Sean over Brigid. He doesn’t think I’m good enough for his daughter. I won,” Raider said.
“And Brigid? How serious?” Wolfe asked.
“Not very, at least not yet. I’m a free agent. But it’d be an insult to me if Eddie hurt her.” That sounded more plausible than he had no clue how he felt, and based on Eddie’s past, he’d respect Raider’s claim.
