These details wouldn’t tell her too much about him, so they were safe to share.Not that his lineage was all that remarkable.
She clucked her tongue.
“And you?”he asked to politely continue the conversation and keep her awake.
“Irish, German, and Norwegian.”
He peered over his shoulder.“I don’t meet many Nordic people these days.”
She shrugged through a yawn.“Are we done yet?”
He smirked at the word “we.”This was a solo task.Which was why she hadn’t assisted much in inspecting the room.Though, to be fair, she hadn’t a clue what to do.He’d excuse her lack of participation today.This was her first time, but on the way back, she’d be an active participant in sweeping the room.
“I have to check the bathroom.”
She scrambled off the bed.“I should probably brush my teeth.”
“Do you have any idea what I’m looking for?”
“Cameras,” she said as she dug through the bag.“Listening devices.Spy shit.Maybe a peephole.”She glanced around.“This looks like the sort of place where the owners stare at you through the eyes of a painting on the wall like perverted creepers.”
He snorted.
“Maybe a glory hole or two.”
“What?”This woman was out of her damn mind.
“I don’t know.I’m not well-versed in seedy motels.”
27
Sydney
Three Days Later
Sydney had never been to New Jersey.She’d always heard it called the “Armpit of America.”From what she’d seen so far, it was industrialized.How was this the Garden State?She hadn’t seen one tree or bush.
Then again, they hadn’t explored much.They stayed within a mile or two of the massive shipping port, which was like a bustling city.There were train lines, massive stacks of colorful containers, and the largest cranes she’d ever seen.She was in awe of how smoothly this place ran.
After following Joey Burke, the union head challenger—can anyone say motive—for the past twenty-four hours, they had to regroup.They hadn’t planned for the size of the port.With all the research they’d done, apparently they hadn’t considered how large one of those cranes was.Not to mention, neither of them knew how to operate one.
Not to be deterred, they discovered empty containers readily available.Which actually would work to their advantage.
Sitting on the edge of the bed in their motel, Sydney cocked her head to the side while Fink stared at his reflection in the mirror.He’d laid out the face paints, hair dyes, and everything he would use to hide his appearance.
Meticulously, he dipped the wide brush first in the white paint pot and covered his face.He followed the line of his jaw, went under his chin, and around his mouth.He covered the shaved sides of his head to make sure none of his skin showed.
Another brush went into the black paint pot.He raised his head and dragged the darker ink over his neck and down his shoulders and chest.The large clover on his neck disappeared beneath the strokes.
While that dried, he squirted a tube, and blue goop filled his palm.He brought his hands together and spread the gel before running it through his hair.With his focus on his reflection, he slicked his strands back.
His ritual was mesmerizing.With each stroke he added, Fink transformed from the man she’d enjoyed for the past week into the devious clown she’d met a week ago.She’d witnessed nothing more beautiful.
As he left the bathroom, she scooted in after him.Her turn.She had to be quick, though.Standing in front of the mirror, she studied her reflection.
Plain.Generic.A little plump.Sydney was an average woman with medium-brown hair and eyes.There was nothing remarkable about her.Perhaps she didn’t have to get all done up like he did.
But where was the fun in being everyday Sydney?She was on the verge of greatness.Tonight was her chance to explore a part of herself she never knew existed.It called for more flair.
