Chapter 35 #2
“Grab my case from upstairs—my jacket, too,” Jules ordered as Robin stood up and headed for the kitchen pantry.
“And let’s make sure we don’t clear Cosmo out.
He’s gonna need to stay here—even if his security team shows up in the next ninety seconds, I—” he glanced over at Robin “—really need him to stay here. Will you let him know?”
“Copy that,” Sam said as he dashed for the front foyer stairs.
Cos and Jane kept a bunch of cloth grocery bags on a hook near the door that led to the garage, and Robin took one down, filling it with bags of corn chips and pretzels, a box of cookies.
He grabbed a couple of apples from Jane’s fruit bowl that was out on the counter, too, taking care to leave her one as per her warning.
That plus a few large bottles of spring water and caffeine, caffeine, where was the caffeine?
There was a two liter bottle of generic cola in the fridge.
Robin pulled that out and put it in a second bag with the water.
“Snacks for the road,” he told Jules, who was standing there, clearly worried that Robin was not going to be happy about this little impromptu road trip out to Palm Springs. “Make sure you take a phone charger.
“Already in the car,” Jules said as he took the bags from Robin.
“How can I help?” Robin asked. He knew that Jules had been intending to sift through Devonshire’s tax records again after dinner. “You want me to search the files for... what was it? Santana? And also find that five million dollar payment to Mick, after he got out of jail...?”
“You don’t have to,” Jules said.
“Yeah, I know.” Robin shrugged as he led the way out to the foyer. “It’ll give me something productive to do.” Instead of sitting here worrying. He left that unspoken, but he knew it was understood. “Give me an excuse to call you, too.”
Jules kissed him. “You don’t need an excuse for that.”
Sam rattled down the stairs, carrying both his and Jules’s gun cases, a heavy-looking bag that no doubt came from Cosmo, and their jackets, too.
“Do you believe him?” Robin asked Jules. “Mick?”
“More than ever,” Jules said. “But I have been wrong before.”
“Not that often,” Robin said turning to include Sam. “Eyes open. Stay alert. And keep me posted.”
“You know it,” Sam said over Jules’s “Always.”
“I love you.” Jules said it at the same time as Robin, and smiled. Rushing off to save the day was his idea of a hell of a good time. And this, potentially, was even better, since he had Sam with him.
And as scary as that might seem, it was more than fine with Robin. He had, after all, fallen in love with a man who always ran toward danger.
Robin smiled back, and Jules kissed him again, then followed Sam out the door.
Palm Springs, California
“That’s insane.” Emily kept walking because God!
She was who Milton Devonshire had named as heir to his millions?
! She was supposed to believe that crazy bullshit?
! And now, allegedly, someone had shot up her house and was gunning for her here in Palm Springs.
..?! Allegedly?! “No one’s trying to kill me—unless you are! ”
“You know I’d never hurt you!” Mick—Milt—said as he followed her.
“Do I?” she wondered and he looked pained. Or at least he was pretending to look pained. Was it possible that in addition to being a pathological liar, he was also criminally insane?
She lengthened her stride. If she were truly in serious danger, it absolutely was from him.
“Em, I’m still me,” he said. He was drenched with sweat from running after her and his eyes were red as if he’d been crying, but so what.
Dangerous people cried, too. Probably even more than people who weren’t dangerous.
But he held out his phone, the screen unlocked.
“Please. Just... slow down. Stop for a minute, here, in public—we’re surrounded by people—and call them. ”
The hotel was in sight—just a few blocks away—and she did not want to stop now.
There would be plenty of people in the lobby, too.
She’d make him sit down and wait for her while she took the elevator up to the room and packed her things.
All she really wanted was to get the hell out of town, away from him.
Away from her own naive foolishness. Instead of returning to the lobby, she’d leave out the back, get a cab to the airport, fly back home.
Even if she had to stay overnight in the airport, it’d be better than this.
Let him get a new room key from the front desk when he realized she wasn’t coming back downstairs.
“Please,” he said again.
“You want me to call some random number on your phone and talk to some sketchy stranger who answers. Why would I do that?” Emily asked. “No, thanks, Milton, I’ll pass.”
“His name’s Sam Starrett, he’s a former Navy SEAL, he works for a personal security agency called Troubleshooters Incorporated,” Milt told her.
“They’re based down in San Diego, but they’re opening an office in LA, led by a former FBI agent named Jules Cassidy.
He’s the team leader. Use my phone to google them.
You can call their main office, except, shit, it’s after hours, but okay, they have an answering service for emergencies, and this absolutely is that.
They should get back to us pretty quickly, but please, let’s walk away from the hotel.
Let’s go back downtown while we wait—there’s always a crowd near the clubs and bars. ”