Rosarito Beach (32 page)

“Still, it might be a good thing if you moved away from here.”

“My daughter still has two years to go in high school, and she's in a good school right now.”

“They have good schools in Washington. In fact, I'm sure I can get Jessica into the school my boys went to.”

“Washington?”

“You see, even though you're not supervisor material, you—”

“I don't agree with that.”

“—you have other qualities. You're quick on your feet, you're brave, you're tough, and you have a facility for languages. Well, there's a certain organization in Washington who needs people with your talents, and I have some pull with this organization.”

“What are you talking about? CIA?”

“Not exactly. But I'm thinking by the time you go through training and get a couple more languages under your belt, Jessica will be out of high school and off to college.”

“Does this unnamed organization know what I did in Mexico?”

“You bet. I told them all about Mexico, and they love what you did down there. As far as they're concerned, that was your job interview. They can hardly wait to meet you.”

Barb finished her second martini. Kay was still on her first.

“Now, I'd suggest you go home and tell your daughter you're going to be moving to D.C., and in a day or two, you'll get a phone call.”

Kay just sat there for a moment, unable to move, unable to believe how lucky she was. She hoped Jessica wouldn't be too upset by having to move to Washington—she knew her daughter liked living in Southern California—but she also knew Jessica would understand and would want what was best for Kay's career. Furthermore, it sounded like this unnamed agency that wasn't “exactly” CIA could even be more fun than the DEA. She wondered if—

Barb gave her a tap on the hand. “Go on, honey. Get moving. Go home to your daughter.” Barb looked over at the gray-haired guy at the bar—he really was a hunk—showed him that her martini glass was empty, and made a little pout. “The grown-ups have things to do.”

I want to thank the following people for their help on this novel:

Kaaren Netwig, Jessie Kanallakan, and Owen Kelly for helping me with and taking the time to read some of the Mexico scenes in the book. Any errors relating to Mexico, border crossings, Rosarito Beach, et cetera, are mine alone.

Linda Kirk for educating me on the nature of fifteen-year-old girls. I don't have a daughter and never spent any time with teenage girls, and Linda spent over an hour talking to me about her daughter, Jessica, when her Jessica was fifteen. The Jessica in this novel is based—very loosely—on Linda's real-life daughter, who is now a brilliant doctor.

Rodger Brown for letting me play with a real .32 caliber automatic like Kay uses in this book.

Judge James P. Donohue for taking so much time to educate me on federal warrants, the Patriot Act, and other legal matters. Any errors in the legal stuff also are mine alone.

George Steffen for introducing me to Steve Wolfe, and to Steve, who was a huge help in so far as educating me on Camp Pendleton when I made a research trip to San Diego.

James Barber, a friend and former boss. There's a line in the book attributed to Caesar Olivera about good news delivered late just being a “pleasure delayed.” I paraphrased that line from a 1986 training paper Jim wrote regarding principles for managing Navy nuclear work. The paper is still in circulation today, twenty-eight years later.

Phoebe Pickering, Peter Grennen, Tony Davis, Aileen Boyle, and everyone else at Penguin/Blue Rider Press who participated in the production of this book. I particularly want to thank David Rosenthal, President of Blue Rider Press, for the wonderful job he did editing and improving the book, and especially for being willing to take a chance on this novel.

Finally, David Gernert, for all the effort he put into finding a home for this book. David, I don't know what I'd do without you.

M. A. Lawson, a former senior civilian executive for the U.S. Navy, is a pseudonym for Mike Lawson, the author of eight novels in the Joe DeMarco
series.