Chapter 27
27
L ina was done with being poked and prodded. To be fair, the doctors and nurses were competent, if slow. Although, again, to be fair, their slow speed worked in their favor. It gave them time to give their statements to the police, and they weren’t going anywhere until Roxanne and Klaus arrived anyway.
The treatment team finally decided she only needed stitches in her hip, and the nurse had stepped out to gather the supplies when Klaus appeared in the door. Like a wraith.
Lina saw him, but Jackson, who stared at the monitors with his back to the door, didn’t.
She lifted a brow as Klaus remained where he stood. She swore she saw a hint of amusement in his eyes as he waited.
Jackson lost interest in the monitors and turned. “Jesus!” he said, jerking back in his chair. “What the hell are you doing looming in the hall, Klaus?”
“Waiting to be asked in, of course,” the man replied, stepping into the room.
“Like a fucking vampire,” Jackson muttered under his breath.
Klaus’s eyes flickered, and Lina snorted. “How are you, Klaus?”
“A rather droll answer, but better than you, miss. How are you feeling?”
“Waiting for stitches, then I’m free.”
“Very good,” he replied, eyeing Jackson.
“What?” Jackson asked.
“I’ll need your jacket.”
Jackson crossed his arms. “Why?”
Klaus’s gaze remained level. Lina made a note to herself to dig up the old films he’d acted in.
“They could not have known the car you were driving, which means that when they spotted you arriving in the area, they did so with the assistance of high-powered surveillance equipment. Binoculars would be my assumption—powerful, but unlikely to stand out in this area where whale, bird, and sea lion watching are quite common. If I’m going to lure them away from you, I need to look the part.”
A weighted silence fell across the room.
“Klaus,” Jackson said. The man lifted his chin. “You’re white.”
“I’m aware.”
“I’m Black.”
“I am also aware of that fact.”
“And there’s two of us.”
“And the miss is a woman,” Klaus added. “A white woman.”
Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me you’re dressing up in blackface.”
“I would never be so uncouth. Or offensive.”
“Are you dressing up as me?” Lina asked, holding back a surprised laugh.
“I can adjust my height in the car so as to appear shorter,” he replied.
Jackson’s brows shot up, and he slid a glance her way. She shrugged.
“Ready, Uncle K?” a man asked, walking into the room. A Black man. “Oh, hey,” he added with a nod to her and Jackson, as if surprised to see them.
“Uncle?” Jackson repeated. “Who are you?” he added, looking at the newcomer.
“And how did you get in here?” Lina interjected. She assumed Jackson had given reception Klaus’s name, but not this stranger.
The young man flashed her a killer grin—one almost as meltingly good as Jackson’s. “Charm, of course.”
“Neither the battle-ax at reception nor the security guard would have fallen for that,” Jackson said.
“We are all better off leaving that a secret,” Klaus said on an exhale. “Lina, Jackson, allow me to introduce the slipperiest and most devious?—”
“But most charming,” the man interjected. “And best-looking.”
“Of my seventeen nephews—for my sins—Michael Baldwin,” Klaus continued without missing a beat. “Michael, Lina Kato and Jackson Bond.”
Michael nodded to them again, his gaze lingering on Jackson. They wore similar shirts, although Michael’s was dark green rather than dark blue, and Jackson’s frame was more substantial, more mature, than Michael’s, who couldn’t be more than twenty-five. But once the young man donned Jackson’s leather jacket and sunglasses, from a distance, he’d make a passible “Jackson.”
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Jackson asked. Lina didn’t blame him. She knew nothing about Michael Baldwin, but she did not want a young man thrown into something over his head.
Michael grinned. “I train the Presidential Protective Division of the Secret Service. Both defensive and offensive driving.”
“Training with a team doesn’t mean you’re field-ready,” Lina said.
Michael waggled his eyebrows. “ I train them . Not with them.”
Jackson cocked his head. Her gaze skittered to Klaus. Klaus sighed. “Misspent youth, a series of rather alarming car chases?—”
“Aw, they were sic, and you know it,” Michael said, arm punching his uncle with a grin.
“And finally, a deal with the government,” Klaus continued.
“Kind of like the government hiring hackers to test their IT systems?” Jackson asked.
Michael pointed at him and winked. “You got it in one. Instead of going to jail, I get to bring a bunch of old white dudes down a peg.”
Secret Service assigned to the president weren’t all men or all white, or all old for that matter, but she got the point. Michael Baldwin was more than he appeared. At least when it came to driving.
Coming to the same conclusion, Jackson rose, emptied his jacket pockets, and handed the garment over. “My sunglasses are in the car. I left the keys in the pocket. What about you, Klaus?”
He lifted a small bag he carried. “Makeup, a wig, and a…more feminine top. Sunglasses as well. My employer is waiting with the plane. Text her when you are discharged, and she will arrange a ride from here to the airport.”
Michael and Klaus turned to leave, Michael bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation. If Sam and Nest didn’t follow them, that was going to be one sad young man.
“All right, are you ready?” a doctor asked, walking into the room with a nurse following. Both glanced at the two retreating figures, but neither commented.
Two injections—one to numb her hip, the other to dose her with antibiotics—and five stitches later, Jackson escorted her into a waiting rideshare car. An hour after that, they were zipping up the drive to Roxanne’s house, only there was no Klaus to greet them this time. The ruse had worked, and Michael was leading them on a merry chase northbound on Interstate 5.
“I’m dreadful at cocktails these days,” Roxanne said, kicking off her shoes in the foyer. “But help yourself to whatever you like.” She waved to the drinks cart tucked into a corner of the airy living room. “Or, if you’d prefer to shower and rest…”
“Shower,” Lina said. “Definitely a shower.”
“I had clothes delivered while we were gone. You’ll find them in your room. Jackson, be a dear and heat up the dinner Klaus left. I want to shower and change as well. As much as I adore flying, the smell of the fuel is not a scent I care to be associated with.” Without waiting for a reply, she swanned out of the room.
Jackson caught her wincing as she toed off her shoes and beckoned to her. “Come here.”
“I’m fine,” she said.
“That’s nice. I’m not.”
He held his arms out, and a beat later, she nestled against his chest, his warmth enveloping hers. “For the record, I did not like that,” he said.
She considered making a joke about it but discarded it. His heart, though steady, was rapid under her ear. He kissed the top of her head.
“The only good thing to come of it is that Sam and Nest are now far away. We won’t have to worry about them following us to Murphys.” She stiffened as a thought occurred to her. “The box, it was in the car. It has the last key in it.”
Jackson’s arms tightened around her. “The only things left were the toys and the receipt. I tucked the certificates and postcards into my boot and the keys are in my back pocket. After what happened, I didn’t want to leave them in the car when I got to the ER.”
“Thank god you’re not just a pretty face,” she mumbled against his chest. His deep chuckle rumbled through her.
“In the grand scheme of things, you’re not too battered, but go take a long shower. I’ll get dinner ready.”
“Feels like we just ate lunch,” she grumbled, pushing away.
“Five hours ago. It’s early, but I suspect you—we’ll—both crash hard tonight.”
“And we have a long ride tomorrow.”
She felt him frown, his cheek still resting on her head. “We may need to do it in two days. I’m not sure you’ll be up to eleven hours in the saddle. Maybe more if we hit traffic.”
She wanted to protest, but fatigue washed through her. On a sigh, she answered, “Let’s get a good night’s sleep and see how we feel in the morning. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.”
He chuckled again. “Anyone ever told you not to tempt fate?”