Chapter 24 #2
Breaking our kiss with a noisy gasp, he presses his forehead to mine and searches my eyes.
“I’m gonna be on Felix’s plane right behind yours.
I’ll follow you out of the airport and as close to Cordoza’s house as security allows.
I intend to speak to Jay Bishop and ask what precautions he’s put in place to keep his wife safe, and if he doesn’t double those precautions to cover you and Aubree, too, then I’m pulling the plug and getting you out of there.
Whatever Cordoza says he wants, keep a cool head, tell him you need time to think about it, and then you get your ass out of there. With or without the Solomon sisters.”
“Let’s go,” Soph emerges at the top of the plane’s stairs, her long brown hair tied in a ponytail at the top of her head, her ballerina body clad in tight jeans and a body-hugging shirt. She wears weapons as easily as I wear a lab coat. “We need to make tracks, or we’ll get there late.”
“Best not to irritate our host before our meeting has even begun.” I step onto my toes and kiss the underside of Archer’s chin.
“I missed you this week, Detective.” Lowering back to flat feet, I grab his jaw and force his eyes down to mine.
“I missed being able to hug you anytime I liked. Don’t ignore me now while I’m still raw. ”
Groaning, he wraps his arms around my shoulders and buries his face against my neck. “If you die, I’m following you into the afterlife.” He kisses my shoulder. My throat. The warm spot behind my ear. Then my cheek. “Stay in contact, okay? Now is not the time to play hard to get.”
“I’ll stay in contact.” I break his tight grip and take a step back. “Should I tell you to be careful, too, Detective?”
His brow shoots high in question.
“I have an invitation to this thing. Not only weren’t you invited, but you were specifically told not to come. If anyone is in danger, it’s probably you.”
“I’ll handle myself,” he grits out, his eyes firing with barely repressed rage.
“I’ll handle you, too. Your only job is to zig when I tell you to zig, and zag when zagging is appropriate.
” He exhales a shuddering breath, audible even above the drone of Cordoza’s plane.
Then he licks his lips and nods. “I’ll be right behind you. ”
“Okay.” I drag my fingers through my hair to combat a gusty tunnel of wind knocking it into my eyes, then I turn on my heels and follow Aubree up the steps of a jet objectively cooler than the Malones’.
Dark, black interiors and rich leather seats.
Gold trim and sparkling handles wherever handles are needed—it’s possible they’re actual diamonds.
A woman waits by the door, her back to the closed cockpit, and smiles brightly.
She wears a skirt suit that clings to her every curve, with a split in the fabric at her thigh, but the outfit in itself is not overtly revealing, nor is it inappropriate.
I dip my chin, the only greeting she’ll get from me, then I turn and follow Aubree into what could only be described as a living room for rich people.
Sofas on each wall, a coffee table in the center, and a thick, elegant rug pulling the entire space together.
He’s only missing the fireplace, fat cigars, and a drink cart ladened with expensive whiskey and five hundred dollars a piece glassware.
“Nobody warned me about motion sickness immediately after conceiving a child.” Michelle Mancino—Ellie Solomon—slumps on a single chair, her hands on her still-flat belly and her chin almost resting on her chest. “This baby is the size of a lime,” she groans.
“A small lime. But it already makes me puke every single time the earth spins.” She brings glassy eyes up to mine. “I wish someone had warned me.”
“Take this.” Soph rifles through a bag and plops onto the chair beside her sister, pulling out a box similar to the one I received in the mail. Opening the top flap, she selects a single purple pill and offers it in her open palm. “With water. You’ll feel better soon.”
“Oh good. More guinea pigs.” I select a seat and cross my legs, at least half of my focus on the air-hostess as she drags the cabin door closed and seals the latch.
If I turn and peek out the window, I’m bound to find Archer hyperventilating.
Or brawling with his brothers. Possibly both.
The other half of my attention is split between Aubree setting her bag down and taking a seat beside me, and Ellie tipping her head back, chasing the purple pill with half a bottle of water.
“Ever consider not making your nearest and dearest your trial participants, Solomon?”
“Ever consider there’s nothing in this world I would do to risk my sister—or her unborn child? So if I’m giving them a pill Jen created, it’s because I trust it completely?”
“Dammit.” Panicked, Aubree fists the chair arm, her breath coming faster as the plane taxis away from the private hangar. “We’re moving. We’re gonna go up soon.”
Stunned, Soph’s brows shoot high on her forehead.
“She’s afraid of flying.” I shrug and settle back. “Physics creeps her out.”
“I’m not afraid of flying! I’m sensible and intelligent, and it’s weird that planes don’t have flapping wings like birds do.
Why would you not pay attention to nature when you’re mirroring something that happens naturally?
Birds fly. Therefore, plane people should pay attention to how they do it.
Strapping rocket fuel to their puckered buttholes is not it. ”
“Jen gets like this sometimes, too.” Smirking, Soph closes the box and tosses it back into her bag.
“These smart chicks seriously stress out about gravity and how planes go.” Settling back in her seat, she drops her bag onto the floor by her feet and glances past me to the cockpit, then to the hostess who takes her seat and straps in for takeoff.
“I have men in place in New York already. They’ll observe as we land, disembark, slide into whatever car Cordoza has waiting for us, and then as we travel to his home. ”
Ellie’s cheeks puff wide. “Sounds like a lot of motion to me. Motion sickness is especially gross when I am, in fact,” she closes her eyes as the plane picks up speed and sends us hurtling along the runway, “in motion.”
“Why does no one expect the wings to flap?” Aubree white-knuckles the armrest, gulping and glancing out the windows as we speed along the blacktop. “Flapping makes so much more sense.”
“Flapping would make my sickness way worse,” Ellie whimpers. “God, I couldn’t imagine.”
“So I guess this is on me and you, then?” I meet Soph’s eyes, stony and ready to work—unlike the other two. “Do we have new information since we last talked?”
She wraps her hand around Ellie’s, twining their fingers together and holding on as we go up.
My stomach drops, and a pained squeak escapes Aubree’s throat.
Am I supposed to hold her hand? Should I?
Soph waits for us to climb, climb, climb a little more, and when we finally level out, she strokes Ellie’s wrist with the pad of her thumb. “I’ve had soldiers in New York since last night. They’re on Cordoza’s property as we speak.”
“Without invitation?”
“Without detection. We can’t know exactly where he’s hosting dinner, but it’s a safe bet we’ll be in the main dining room.
I don’t have eyes in there yet, but the instant we walk through, I can place a couple, which will bring my team a little closer.
They’ll have audio and visual, so if they need to rush in, they can. ”
Ellie rolls her cold water bottle over her forehead, moaning through her discomfort. “I know his behavior this week has been…” She hesitates for a beat, closing her eyes and swallowing. “Questionable. But I’ve known Estefan for half of my life. He has never given me a reason to doubt him.”
“Are you finding out the sex of your baby?” Aubree’s body is stiff, her cheeks pale, but she leans forward and offers a shaky smile. “Do you wanna know?”
Soph gasps. “You know?”
Aubree’s fierce grip on the armrest eases now that our bird is stable in the sky. “I know. But I won’t spoil it if Ellie doesn’t want to know.”
“I haven’t discussed it with Troy.” Ellie sits taller in her seat, her pulse thundering in her throat. “We’ve considered finding out, but no final decisions have been made yet.” She brings desperate eyes my way. “If I find out before him, his feelings might get hurt. Right?”
I scoff. “This has absolutely nothing to do with me. Leave me out of it.”
“I don’t want to hurt his feelings,” she murmurs.
“If it’s a girl, he’s gonna melt. And if it’s a boy, he’ll get all puffy and manly and ‘that’s my son.
’ I don’t… I should…” Motion sickness forgotten, she looks to Soph, then back to Aubree.
“I don’t know what I should do. Besides, we really should focus on this, no?
” She gestures around the plane’s opulent interiors.
“Troy will lose his shit if he finds out we’re talking babies instead of Cordoza. ”
“But you know Estefan won’t hurt you.” Aubree picks up her bag and searches the front pockets, nibbling on her lips and producing a pen and what may be an old receipt.
“Tell you what, I’m gonna write it down, and then we’ll fold it up a dozen times.
You put it in your pocket and decide later.
That way, you don’t have to wait for testing, and you haven’t jumped ahead or hurt your husband’s feelings. ”
“I just don’t get it.” Frustrated, Sophia grits every word past tight teeth, snarling each syllable, and pressing her thumbs to her eyelids. “How does your brain work, Doctor Emeri? How can you do this?”
“Yeah…” Curious, I lean closer and whisper, “You didn’t even touch her.”
Snickering, Aubree covers her work with one hand and writes with the other. “Touching helps, especially when things are a little unclear, but I don’t have to. Especially not when I have a connection to the person.”