Part 5 (1/2)
”Working on a Sat.u.r.day night? What do you do?”
There was a pause and then he said simply, ”Hunt.”
Jo raised her eyebrows and drawled dubiously, ”Right.”
Silence fell in the vehicle as they reached the gates at the end of the drive. Two men were stationed at the guardhouse today, she noted. One rushed to open the inner gate for them while the second stood at the booth and watched them pa.s.s. She wondered briefly if the added security was because of Bad-Breath Boy's visit last night, and then they were out and heading up the road.
”So... Anders,” Jo murmured, sitting back in the seat. ”What's that trace of accent you have?”
His eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. They were narrowed at the moment and a beautiful black with gold flecks, she noted, and then his eyes s.h.i.+fted back to the road. ”I don't have an accent. You do.”
”Beg pardon,” she said dryly. ”This is Canada and I have a Canadian accent, which means I have no accent here. But you do, just a trace, but it sounds...” Jo paused, considering the few words he'd said so far and then guessed, ”Russian?”
His eyes met hers in the mirror again. This time there was a flicker that might have been something like appreciation in his eyes as he nodded.
”So is Anders your first name or last?”
”Last.” Jo pursed her lips. ”Anders doesn't sound very Russian.”
”It was originally Andronnikov,” he admitted. ”I got tired of North Americans mangling the name.”
”Hmm,” Jo said. ”Russian. We should get along great then.”
”Why?” he asked, and she couldn't help but notice that his tone was dubious as he met her gaze in the mirror again. There was also true confusion on his face. She suspected he doubted they would get along at all.
Jo met his gaze, smiled sweetly, and said, ”Well, it just figures, doesn' t it? I'm a bartender, you're a Black Russian. It's a perfect match.”
Bricker burst out laughing, but Anders, she noticed, looked less than impressed, and Jo wondered if that crack would be considered racist. She hadn't thought so. Actually, she hadn't thought at all before saying it. d.a.m.n, she really needed to learn to think before she spoke.
”It wasn' t racist,” Anders said dryly. ”It was a very bad play on the name of an alcoholic beverage, but not racist.”
Jo peered at him sharply. ”How did you know I was worrying about that?”
He hesitated, but then s.h.i.+fted his eyes back to the road and said, ”You have that guilty look white people get when they're worried they've misspoken.” Anders glanced back to the mirror and raised an eye brow as he asked, ”Or is it racist to call you white? Perhaps I should say Caucasian.”
Jo snorted and then found herself babbling, ”h.e.l.l if I know. You can call me white if you want. Although I don't really get the whole white business myself, I mean we aren't really white. Well, I suppose we can be when upset and we pale, but mostly we're kind of tan in the summer and pink like pigs in the winter.”
”Shall I call you pig then?” he asked sweetly.
Jo's eyes sharpened on his face in the rearview mirror, but she caught the twitching of his lips and asked, ”Was that an attempt at a joke?”
”It was better than yours,” he said, and actually cracked a smile.
”Hmm,” Jo muttered.
”Right,” Bricker commented with amus.e.m.e.nt, ”So now that you two have broken the ice and moved straight to the slinging of insults, where are we going for breakfast?”
”Do not look at me,” Anders said dryly. ”I do not eat... breakfast,” he added when Bricker glanced at him sharply.
”You should,” Jo said with feigned solemnity. ”It's the most important meal of the day, you know.” ”Is it?” Anders asked. ”And what do you usually have for breakfast?”
”Dried-up day-old pizza or anything else I can scrounge up,” she admitted wryly.
”Why am I not surprised?” Anders said in dry tones.
Jo frowned at his knowing expression. ”It's my pores, isn't it? They give away my bad student-type habits.”
His eyes sharpened on hers in the mirror, bewilderment in their beautiful depths. ”Your pores?”
”Yeah. I have big pores that give away my vices while you guys all have baby's a.s.s pores.”
”Baby's a.s.s pores?” Bricker asked incredulously.
”Smooth and poreless like on a baby's b.u.t.t,” she explained dryly.
”Jesus,” Anders muttered, his hand rising to rub his own cheek and his eyes examining his skin in the rearview mirror.
”Eyes on the road, big guy,” Jo ordered. ”You can look at your pretty self later.”
Anders stared at her in the mirror briefly and then glanced to Bricker and muttered, ”It's a shame I can read her. She's an interesting female.”
”I know. I've been bemoaning it all summer,” Bricker said on a sigh, and then added, ”She's hot too.”
Jo wasn't sure what the h.e.l.l they were talking about with the reading business, but was relatively certain she'd just been given a compliment. It cheered her up and made her smile.
Jo smiled a little wider when she realized that her headache was easing. Something to eat and some juice and coffee might help eradicate it completely, she thought. ”There's a little place not far from my apartment that serves all-day breakfast.”
”Address?” Anders asked, apparently reverting to his man-of- few-words persona.
Jo gave it to him and then leaned her head back and closed her eyes, hoping that relaxing a little on the drive would help ease the headache some more.
When Ernie's van pulled into the gas station, Nicholas scanned the street, spotted an open parking spot, and managed to maneuver into the tight s.p.a.ce. He then glanced toward the gas station. Ernie obviously hadn't stopped there in search of gas. He'd parked on the edge of the lot and was now staring at the restaurant parking lot across the street.
While it was Ernie he had set himself the task of watching, Nicholas couldn' t resist looking toward the restaurant himself. He was rewarded with a perfect view of Jo, Bricker, and Anders getting out of the SUV they had driven there in and heading into the restaurant. They disappeared through the front door, only to reappear a moment later in the large front window as they claimed an empty booth there.
When Nicholas then glanced back to Ernie, it was to find that the other rogue had shut off his van and looked like he was settling in for a wait. It seemed he could no longer deny the obvious; while he was following Ernie, Ernie for some unknown reason had set himself the task of following Jo, Bricker, and Anders. Mouth tightening, Nicholas shut off his own engine and sat back to wait as well, but it wasn't long before he was s.h.i.+fting uncomfortably in his seat and wis.h.i.+ng he had the little foam cus.h.i.+on he liked to place at his back.
Unfortunately, that was still in his old van, which he suspected was now in enforcer hands. At least the d.a.m.ned thing had been gone by the time Jo had broken him out of his cell, and he'd ridden out on the undercarriage of the SUV. He'd dropped to the pavement as it had raced past the spot where he'd left the van, taking a d.a.m.ned good road burn in the process, only to find his van missing.
It didn' t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Mortimer had sent men out to find his vehicle after he'd been captured. He had no idea where they'd taken it to. They hadn't brought it back to the enforcer garage before he'd left, so he supposed they'd taken it somewhere to search it.
Perhaps Argeneau Enterprises where Bastien Argeneau's science geeks could go over it with a fine-tooth comb.
It had been a great disappointment to Nicholas to find his vehicle gone. Aside from the fact that it held all of his meager belongings, it had meant a rather long walk for him. Had a car with some slightly drunken teenagers returning from a party not come by, he would have been forced to run all the way back to the city. Fortunately, he'd barely started out for town when they'd roared up the road in his direction. Nicholas had immediately taken control of the driver and brought the vehicle to a halt, then had gotten in to hitch a ride into town.
Nicholas holed up in a motel until morning and then headed out to purchase some supplies: clothes from a secondhand store, tools, and weapons, as well as this new van. Well, new to him, he supposed. It was used, but then he'd had to pay cash and didn' t exactly have access to his previous wealth. Used or not, it had four wheels and ran. It would do for a while, he thought, watching as Jo laughed at something Bricker had said.