Princess (15 page)

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Authors: Christina Skye

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BOOK: Princess
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“Hurt?” The woman looked down and sniffed. “Sorry, I guess I’m a little jumpy. Fact is, my ex staggered in here drunk last week and tried to slap me around for old time’s sake.” Her voice hardened. “There’s only one way to get rid of a mean, sorry bastard like that, and you’re looking at it right here. As in kiss my .45.” She held up the gun and made a loud popping sound. “Know what I mean?”

chapter
21

D
amn, damn, damn.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jess saw Izzy move between her and Luellen.

“Your ex is giving you problems?” he asked casually.

“From the first second I met him. If he gets in my face again, I’ll shoot him.”

“Being a woman can be a trial, by all that’s holy. But that gun is making me nervous, honey.”

“Sorry about that, but I’m taking no chances. If you’re weak, you’re a target.” Luellen’s eyes were cold. “I’m not going to be weak ever again.”

Jess had to admit that Luellen made a crazy kind of sense. She almost felt sorry for the woman.

When Luellen lowered the gun slightly, Izzy nodded. “That’s better. Not that I don’t sympathize, honey. The best day of my life was the day my husband got blind, stinking drunk and fell off a bridge,” he said casually, putting a few more inches between Jess and the delusional manager. “I didn’t even go to the funeral. Told everyone I was overcome by grief, but I was too afraid someone would see I was laughing.”

“You go, girl,” the manager said, bumping hips with Izzy.

Jess watched in mute disbelief. Izzy was completely convincing in his role as a bumbling old woman.

A loud thump echoed from the first row of washers. “Don’t tell me something’s broken.” Izzy fluttered his hands, looking distressed.

“Hell, something’s always happening to this rotten equipment, not that it gets replaced.” The manager scanned the room and shook her head in disgust. “Matter of fact, this whole place gives me the creeps lately. I could swear that stinking ex of mine has been prowling around here at night.”

“Any idea why?” Izzy asked casually.

“Hell no, but I keep seeing lights outside and cars going past at a crawl. Then I get all itchy behind my neck, like somebody’s out there watching me.”

“Why would they do that?” Izzy spoke very clearly, once again giving Jess the impression that he was speaking for the benefit of people outside. Of course, with Izzy tricked out as Whistler’s mother, and the Laundromat manager acting as if she wanted to harangue every female in sight about the evils of unscrupulous men, the whole experience was becoming a little surreal.

But the gun in Luellen’s hand was definitely real, Jess thought grimly. So was the urgency she sensed in Hawk’s secret mission.

“Things have been pretty damned weird around here the last few days. Lotta strangers in and out of town.” Luellen reached across the counter and gripped her handbag with her left hand, keeping the gun in her right. “I’ve gotta go see my kid,” she said flatly. “If that man is bothering her again—”

“Well now, why don’t I come along, dear? Ride shotgun, you know?” Izzy spoke slowly, leaving Jess no question that Hawk or someone on his team was listening.

“What do you mean?” Luellen asked suspiciously.

“I thought if your ex was making trouble, I could be a witness. You could have the bastard arrested.”

Luellen’s mouth stretched into a slow, nasty grin. “I never thought of it that way. You’d be a witness for me?” She swung around toward Jess. “You, too?”

“Well, I wish I could stay, but—”

“If you want to stay, then
stay.
” Luellen’s face took on a mulish look. “After I pick up my daughter, we’ll go get something to eat. Ruthie can go along with us.”

Izzy fingered the shawl that covered his chest. Jess waited silently.

“Honey, you have got yourself a date.” Izzy picked up his red purse. “I guess my dirty socks are just going to have to wait.” He met Jess’s gaze, as if he were talking to her. “Didn’t you say your husband was waiting for you, Jess?”

“Um, right down the street.”

The manager snorted. “That man comes barging in here trying to order you around, I’ll shoot out both his knees.” She waved the gun for emphasis.

The woman was running on three cylinders, Jess thought. “I can handle him, trust me.”

“You can never trust them.” Luellen paced the room. “They’re supposed to pay alimony, but do they? No. They’re supposed to pay child support, but do they?
No.

Izzy touched Luellen’s shoulder gently. “I’m feeling awfully hungry. Maybe we should go.”

“Yeah, we should.” The manager shifted the gun to her other hand, frowning. “I’m worried about my kid, you know? That creep has been bothering Ruthie. She said he comes out to the trailer when I’m not there. But I got a restraining order after the last time he knocked me around, so I could use two witnesses.”

Jess didn’t move. “I really can’t come with you right now because . . .”

“Why the hell
not
? My car is parked right outside. We won’t be gone much above an hour.” Her hand twitched as she spoke, and the gun waved in the air.

Jess looked at Izzy, waiting for some hint as to how to proceed. “Well, if she’s coming with us, she should tell him first.” Izzy sniffed. “Otherwise the stupid man is liable to go off without her.”

Jess gave Luellen a little wave, backing across the room.

Luellen snorted. “Dumb as cows, most of ’em.” Her eyes seemed glazed and unfocused as she motioned them toward the back door, where a dusty Bronco was parked. “My car is parked right over there. Just call him on your cell phone while we drive.” Her gun was still gripped in her hand.

Jess was afraid to throw more oil on the fire. Every time she spoke up, the woman’s gun hand got twitchy.

“Well?”

Jess cleared her throat, wondering who she was supposed to call, but before she could speak, Izzy dug deep into his purse. “Why don’t you use mine, honey? I swear, I never leave the house without it.” Looking down, he covertly punched two buttons before handing the phone across the seat.

“Thanks.” Jess slid into the car and took the phone, surprised to hear Hawk’s quiet voice.

“Jess?”

“Um, hi, honey.”

“You need to get out of that car now,” he said tightly.

“My friends and I are going out for a while, just up the road to my friend Luellen’s house. Don’t worry, honey. I’ll be fine.”

“Get out of there, Jess.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Why? Is she drunk?”

“No, I don’t like Chinese food. If you want to stop, let’s get barbecue—you know how crazy I am for that.”

“She’s crazy?” Hawk cursed softly. “Is anyone left inside the building?”

“No . . . honey. And I won’t be long.”

“Is the dog, L.Z., sitting up, looking stiff?”

“Yes, I’d say there’s no doubt about it.”

“Jess, I need you to put Izzy on the phone. Do it now.”

“I will, honey. See you soon.” She pretended to power down the phone and held the lit screen toward Izzy so that he saw it clearly.

“All done? No problems?” Izzy looked at the screen, then carefully slipped the activated phone into his purse.

“He said it was fine. He’ll just wait.” Jess was certain that Hawk was either tracking them through the cell phone or recording their conversation . . . or both. He’d used his phone as a recorder in the elevator when the threats had come over the speaker. There was no question that he and Izzy were using state-of-the-art technology.

Luellen gave a cold laugh. “Glad that’s done with. Ladies, start your engines.” She rested her gun on the dashboard as she fishtailed out of the parking lot.

The Bronco went into a skid, and beads of sweat trickled down Jess’s neck.

“Is he good in bed?”

Jess stared at Luellen. They’d been driving for almost fifteen minutes, and Izzy had carried most of the conversation during their drive. Afraid of saying the wrong thing, Jess had volunteered only one-word answers so far. Staring at Luellen, she wriggled in the seat, moving her feet restlessly. “Is who good in bed?”

“Your husband—that man I saw you with on the TV. So is he good in the sack?”

Jess cleared her throat. “Uh . . . pretty good, I guess.” Her toe brushed something hard under Luellen’s seat. Moving aside her purse, Jess searched the floor and pulled out a folded towel that felt unusually heavy.

When she opened the towel, Jess realized why.

Inside the dusty cloth was a Colt 45. The 1911 model was loaded with a full magazine judging by its weight. Jess’s sister had the same model Colt for use as her non-service weapon, and she trained with it once a month at a private gun range in south Philadelphia, even dragging Jess along several times for reluctant and very uncomfortable lessons.

Jess sat back stiffly. Was Luellen so paranoid that she had weapons stashed wherever she could reach them in an emergency? God help them all, if so.

One thing was certain. Jess couldn’t possibly give the gun back to Luellen. The woman was running on empty in the logic department, and a second loaded weapon was the last thing she needed.

Taking small movements, she rewrapped the Colt and slipped it down into her purse where Luellen wouldn’t notice it. “You mean he’s no better than good? Now,
that’s
a damned shame.” The manager blew out a sigh. “You ask me, there’s nobody half as hot as Paul Senior on
American Choppers.
” She grinned, tapping her gun against the steering wheel. “Damn, that man has one prime body.” She gave a ragged laugh. “He can clean my carburetor plugs anytime he wants.” She grinned back at Jess, and barely missed a garbage truck lumbering in the opposite direction.

Izzy inched over the seat, as if he were bracing to grab the wheel.

“Almost home.” The manager slowed down abruptly. “If I don’t crash because of Ruthie’s stuff down here on the floor.” She reached down and tossed a book onto the dash. “That kid leaves books everywhere.”

Beside Izzy, the big dog sat up straight, body rigid.

“Damn, but there’s something real wrong with your dog.”

Izzy stroked the dog’s back. “It only happens around strangers, part of the training. So your daughter reads a lot?” he asked.

“Thanks to that no-account boyfriend she hangs around with. I saw him come out of the public library with twenty books one day, filling Ruthie’s head with his crazy ideas about college and traveling.” She turned the wheel with a nerve-wracking jerk. “If I find out she snuck out to see him tonight, I’m going to lock her in the tool shed.”

Jess swallowed. “You wouldn’t really do that?” Her fingers curled into her palms and she flashed back to panic and disorientation. She scowled at Luellen, hating the memories of her own blinding fear.

“Damn right I would.” Luellen took another curve dangerously fast. “There’s my place. And that ex of mine better not be anywhere close.”

Through the dense trees Jess saw a weathered gray trailer with three smaller buildings, no more than sheds, spaced out along a muddy path.

“It must be peaceful out here,” Izzy said quickly, as if he sensed Jess struggling with her anger.

“Part of the reason I like it. That and I can see someone coming in time to protect myself.” She braked hard, her gun tapping on the wheel. “Any other cars in sight?”

“None that I can see,” Izzy said after a casual check.

“Good. Okay, ladies, you can hit the bathroom, and I’ll find my kid. After that, we’ll go get ourselves some truly heart-stopping barbecue. Beer’s on me.”

FUBAR, Hawk thought grimly. He had heard every word of the conversation in Luellen’s car. Now that Jess had been shanghaied to join Luellen’s crazy expedition, the whole op was spiraling from bad to downright nasty, courtesy of Mr. Murphy and his screwed-up laws. If they hadn’t needed Luellen to give quick access to her trailer for L.Z. to track the bear, he’d have ordered that she be taken out by a quick, nonlethal use of force. But now that L.Z. had signaled a positive scent they needed Luellen, crazy as she was. Hawk didn’t want to risk any harm to the animal.

He walked through the Laundromat, past half a dozen agents who were busy combing every inch of space for evidence. So far they had found nothing to suggest the lab animal had ever been there, and without L.Z., their job would take hours, not seconds.

He motioned to a man in a flight suit. “Is the chopper ready?”

“All set, Lieutenant.”

“Then let’s move.”

“Lieutenant, I need to speak with you first.”

Hawk picked up an aluminum case from the floor and turned to the woman waiting in the doorway. “Yes?”

“I was told to report to you or Ishmael Teague as soon as I arrived, sir. I drove straight up from California.”

“You’ve been fully briefed?”

The woman nodded. “Code name: Princess, sir. I had extensive lab and medical experience before I joined the agency, and I’m ready to take custody of the bear as soon as it’s located. My identification has been verified by your people outside.”

“Hold on.” Hawk adjusted his earpiece as he received the thumbs-up for the new arrival. “I don’t have time to talk.” He glanced down at her ID. “Agent Lindstrom.”

“Yes, sir. We’ve been checking out Luellen Hammel and her twelve-year-old daughter, the way you requested. The girl is an honor student, sir. No discipline problems in school. She keeps animals and seems to be pretty quiet.”

Hard to figure out genetics, Hawk thought grimly. You could tinker with whole animals, but you couldn’t hope to understand a human family.

“Anything else I need to know, Agent Lindstrom? I doubt you came all the way up here to brief me on the suspect’s model family.”

“No, sir.” The agent hesitated, fingering the badge clipped to her jacket. “You need to know two things. One, Princess has had only female handlers, so she may become agitated around males. She has a very sensitive sense of smell due to her genetic programming, so she will pick up subtle hormonal differences.” She glanced off to the south, where a bank of gray clouds straddled the mountains.

“And?” Hawk prompted. “Give me the rest.”

“Princess is sick,” the agent said quietly. “She exhib-ited some organ malfunction during her transport from Australia, but it didn’t appear to be significant. Now that we’ve studied the lab work, it’s clear that her organ problems are growing more severe. These problems are compounded by a highly advanced aging process, which is common in transgenic mammals.”

“So you’re saying the clock is ticking?”

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