Bernard DeLeo - Cold Blooded

“Grace really likes them.”

“Yeah…well…Grace is a psycho.”

“She is?” Jean popped up past Deke to get closer while the dog jammed in behind her with his head out the window. “What’s a psycho?”

“If you want to stop in forty-five minutes you’ll have to ignore anything you hear me say.” Nick grinned back at Jean for a moment. “I live alone. Sometimes I say things better left unsaid because I think I’m talking to myself.”

“How about after the forty-five minutes?”

“Sarah!” Rachel reached around attempting to tickle Jean who started squealing before the hand reached her. Deke interceded, grabbing Rachel’s wrist lightly in his jaws. “Deke!”

Nick started laughing, while glancing over at the interchange. Hearing the tone in Rachel’s voice, Deke released her and plopped down with head in Jean’s lap, ready for another attack.

“You didn’t tell me Deke was an attack dog.”

“He attacks me without any problem. I’m not sure about anyone else. He’s been doing it since he was a puppy. If I reach quickly for Jean in any way, Deke grabs me. If I escalate, he escalates.”

“Neat.”

“Figures you’d think so.” An enigmatic smile formed as Rachel looked over at Nick.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nick asked rhetorically, recognizing a setup when he heard one.

“Men and dogs recognize abhorrent behavior, think oh well, that’s nature , and move on.”

“You know us so well it’s scary, right Deke,” Nick prompted the dog and earned a ‘grrruuffff’ in response. “Hey, let’s play the women and cats game now.”

Rachel giggled. “I don’t think so.”

Twenty minutes later Rachel noticed Nick watching the rear view mirror even more than at the start of their trip.

“You’re looking worried.”

“Did Grace or Tim mention anything about putting a tail on us to you?”

“No, I thought they wanted only the two of them to know we were headed to your place.”

“That’s what I thought. We’re almost to Gilroy. There’s a McDonalds near the exit where we can get something to eat. In the dark, I’ll know if the car I’m suspicious of follows us off.”

“Yaaaaaaaaayyyyy, McDonalds!” Jean cheered.

“You will have a salad and glass of milk, young lady,” Rachel told her.

“Yeah, right, Mom.” Jean gave Rachel the wave off. “I’m having a Happy Meal and a milkshake.”

“Do you have kids, Nick?”

“No.”

“Want one?”

Nick drove off the exit he knew led to the McDonalds and noticed the pair of headlights he had been watching leave the freeway too. In the McDonalds parking lot Nick, watched the car go past. It was a tan colored late model Buick Lacerne. The Buick kept going without slowing down and Nick could not get an angle to see the plate. He ordered and paid for the food after only a slight debate between his charges. They took the order over to a table Nick had picked out away from the front windows. Nick let Rachel divvy up the drinks and food, staying on his feet while sipping from the iced tea he’d ordered.

“Let me have Deke’s leash and one of his waste bags. I’ll take him for a walk.”

“They came off the freeway with us, didn’t they?”

“I’m going to see if they’re parked where they can see who gets into or out of my car. Relax, I’ll be right back.”

Rachel nodded hesitantly and handed Nick the dog’s leash and a baggie she had brought with her, planning to walk Deke after having something to drink. Nick took his iced tea with him. He leashed the overjoyed Deke and walked him out of the parking lot. Nick stopped every time Deke sniffed anything, allowing the dog to stay engaged with whatever aroma appealed to him. Nick drank his iced tea, looking around as Deke proceeded slowly up the street. The Buick was parked in the darkness nearly fifty yards away, facing Nick from across the street. After continuing another thirty feet, Nick took a look up at the sky casually and tugged Deke toward the parking lot.

Rachel smiled at Nick in relief as he walked toward their table after returning Deke to the car. “How we doing?”

“Not so good.” Nick sat down. “I’m going to take them for a little ride. I’ll call Grace while I’m doing it. If I’m not back in half an hour, call a cab and have the cabbie take you to a hotel. I’ll have to take Deke with me.”

“Why not call Grace right now?”

“You’re not going to hurt Deke!” Jean chimed in.

“Calm down you two,” Nick urged. “Deke and I will lead these clucks away, ID them, and be back in no time. I’m covering all our bases. If they’re dangerous people, Deke and I will lead them on a wild goose chase until Grace and Tim get here.”

“Okay…okay, we’ll wait,” Rachel agreed, picking up her cell-phone. “You’ll call me, right?”

“I’ll have Grace call you. Sorry this trip’s taking longer than we figured but we need to be careful.”

Nick walked out to the Malibu and opened the trunk. He moved luggage out of the way until he could reach the rear trunk area. Lifting up a section of fiber board, Nick took out a small leather case. He reloaded the car and took the case up front with him. Deke looked at Nick from the front seat expectantly. Nick laughed and opened the rear passenger door. Spreading the bags out on the floor and seat, Nick evened the surface before motioning Deke into the rear passenger compartment.

“Deke, buckle up, you’re in for a bumpy ride. Sorry, but no hanging out the window this trip, buddy.”

Great, now I’m talking to the dog .

Nick sat in the driver’s seat, closed the door, and opened the leather case. He took out his satellite phone and a MAC 10 machine pistol with a forty round clip. Nick popped the clip into place and set the weapon on the passenger seat. With the phone in its Velcro cradle installed on top of the center storage compartment, Nick drove away from McDonalds within sight of the Buick. Instead of entering the freeway, Nick drove onto Gillman Road, heading East.

The Buick followed, nearly a hundred yards back. Nick called Grace’s number, putting it on speaker. He turned off his lights, wheeled hard left, feathered the brake pedal, and slid smoothly in the reverse direction. Nick passed the Buick and repeated the maneuver, bringing the Malibu up behind the Buick.

“Grace Stanwick.”

“Grace, I have a bogey here and I’m wondering if it’s one of yours.” Nick flashed his lights on and hurriedly read off the license plate number as the Buick’s brake lights lit up.

“How’d you get through without your ID flashing on my screen, Nick?”

“Quit talking and get looking, Grace,” Nick ordered, swerving around and ahead of the Buick once again, glancing back to make sure Deke was still okay. The dog had spread his paws to stabilize motion.

“Wait one, damn it, I’m checking!”

Nick accelerated far ahead of the Buick, turned out his lights, and reversed his direction once again. This time, he opened the driver’s side window, picked up the MAC 10, and cradled it over the window frame.

“Hurry, Grace, time’s running out.” Nick calmly slowed the Chevy. The Buick decreased speed but kept coming. Nick anchored the MAC 10, the top pad of his right index finger gently beginning to squeeze the trigger.

“They’re ours, Nick! Where are you and what do you mean time’s running out?”

Nick turned on his lights, set the MAC 10 down, and accelerated back toward McDonalds. “I’ll be with Kim and Sarah in a few minutes at a McDonalds on Arroyo Circle in Gilroy. I’ll let you find out what this is all about. Call in to Kim’s cell-phone, okay?”