meals. All of which wouldn’t have been so bad if the lodge hadn’t been hosting some kind of teen purity group from the U.S. I’d tried to point out to the group leaders that the couple
was
married, but it hadn’t really helped.
I noticed Jack’s attention shift and stopped talking.
“On the move,” Jack said, as he tracked his prey. “Piss break. Fuck. Coming this way. Keep looking at me. Keep talking.”
I nodded and glued my gaze to his. “So I have a chat with the couple, and we establish a schedule of when and where they can have their clothing off—”
Aldrich stopped three feet past the table. He looked back over his shoulder—directly at me.
“Keep talking,” Jack murmured.
I did. I have no idea what I said, just blather, my gaze still on Jack, sweat breaking out along my hairline as I could feel Aldrich staring right at me. Then he continued walking.
“He looked right at me,” I whispered when he was out of sight.
Jack shrugged. “Checking you out.”
“I’m well above his age range for that and this outfit is definitely not bar bait.”
Another shrug. “Doesn’t matter. Still gonna look.”
I doubted that. Even on my best days, I’m not bar bait. When I hit puberty, guys started telling me I was cute, and twenty years later, the description hasn’t changed. Looking like the quintessential girl next door is helpful for a hitman, but it doesn’t make guys stare in bars.
“I think he recognized me,” I said. “It was as if he was trying to place me.”
Jack shook his head. “Too many years. Good disguise. He was checking you out.”
“He’s standing at the back by the restroom, looking straight at me.”
Jack turned.
“Don’t—” I began.
Too late. Jack turned right around in his seat and stared at Aldrich. This wasn’t his usual don’t-fuck-with-me stare, like he’d given the motel guy who’d complained about the noise. This look was ice-cold. I-want-to-blow-your-fucking-head-off cold. I shivered in spite of myself.
“Jack?” I whispered.
He snapped out of it, swung back to me, and took a gulp of his beer, as if to wash that look away.
“Could be,” he said as he finished.
“Could be what?”
“Might recognize you.”
My stomach clenched. “Goddamn it, if he knows who am I—”
“He’ll do what? Call the cops?”
I glowered at him.
“I mean it,” he said. “What’s he gonna do? He’s using fake ID. Impersonating a cop. On the run from rape charges. Got nowhere to turn. No one to tell. And what would he say?”
“I don’t want to take that chance. Can we leave now?”
“Makes it worse. Confirms it’s you. There a rear exit?”
I shook my head. The first thing I’d done when we came in was casually scout exits.
“Good. He can’t slip out.”
Aldrich returned by a route that didn’t take him past our seats. After a few minutes, Jack pulled a ten from his pocket and slapped it on the bill. “Let’s go.”
* * *
We left out the front door. As we passed a car, Jack glanced in the side-view mirror.
“Followed us out,” he said.
“Okay.” I struggled to keep calm. “How do you want to play this? Avoid the car, I presume, or he’ll run the plates.”
“Wild-goose chase. Let him have it.” Jack meant the plates wouldn’t lead anywhere and it would be more suspicious if we wandered aimlessly.
For someone who hates attention, I’m actually a good actor. Jack is, too. So as we headed for the car, I raised my voice to normal volume.
“I have a bunch of errands to run in the city before the wedding tomorrow afternoon,” I said. “That means an early morning, so I don’t want to be out too late tonight. Should we check into the hotel first or go straight to dinner?”
“We have one night without the kids,” Jack said. “Definitely to the hotel first.” He put his arm against my back, his fingers sneaking down to my ass. “That’s what room service is for, babe.”
I chuckled. “How many beers did you
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