Operation: Austin

Chapter Three Part Two

“We dropped the other girl at a hotel. A couple, whom John said were her parents, another woman, and a Black girl were there. We didn’t stay long; we just dropped Christie off, then the driver took John and me to another hotel, the Rio. They didn’t talk much, and I didn’t hear their names, but we went straight up to a room, John’s room, and the other guy stayed out in the hall as a guard. John called for room service and left me there to go downstairs. Before he left, he asked me what size pants I wear. I told him it’s usually a size two. He must have gone down to the shops in the lobby. He came back with this T-shirt and two pairs of pants, one in size 2 and one in size 4. Room service came in with him, left the food, and we ate. I was so tired, I just wanted to curl up and sleep. He gave me some ibuprofen and one of his shirts to wear to bed. I took a shower, and he threw away my dress and my phone. All my photos and contacts were on it, but he explained they could track me with it. The dress was ripped anyway, and he said we needed to get rid of anything that could be recognized. He cleaned up my face a little. I was so tired; I got into bed and went to sleep. That was the last thing I remember until I woke up this morning, and John told me he was sending me to a friend of his who had a safe place for me to stay for a while.”

She looked at him. “You know the rest.”

She was still holding his hand. As she finished her story, she looked at their hands resting in her lap. She got self-conscious and released her grip to brush her hair away from her tear-stained face. Using the bottom of her T-shirt, she wiped her tears away. As she did, he could see her skin, her board-flat tummy exposed as she lifted the shirt. The smoothness, the tan skin against the top of her jeans, and her belly button. She had a piercing. He was again aware of how attractive she was, and he had to refocus on the road and take a deep breath. His hand was back on the steering wheel. He groaned audibly as he saw her navel piercing.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He felt transparent as he looked over at her. “Something about you touches me,” he paused and looked away. “I’m sorry if that alarms you.” Her eyes had gotten a little wider after his admission. “I’m just trying to sort this out. I didn’t expect… you.”

She nodded in understanding. “I know what you mean,” she replied softly. “I don’t know what I expected, but I didn’t expect you, either. It feels like static electricity every time you look at me.”

They became quiet. The sound system played “In the Air Tonight,” the Panski remix. As Dana Kelson’s incredible voice created a moment in time, Paige leaned her seat back so she could nap.

She is played out, he thought. Poor kid. He reached down and gave her thigh a little squeeze; she looked up at him. He wanted to share one more thought. “There is one other thing you might not know. It seems there was a fire right after you left the house. The place is a complete loss, burned to the ground.”

He shrugged his shoulders innocently, but he smiled. She just looked at him, trying to figure out the implication.

He explained. “Most likely, the reason you were there for a couple of days was that they had an order from overseas. If they sent the client a message about how beautiful you are, they might have been waiting for a reply from a foreign buyer. If that’s the case, and they are dead, not very many people would have known you were there. This would be a good thing.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” she asked, with a knowing smile, baiting him.

He looked at her, shook his head, and grinned. “Is that what you got from my comment, Libra? Yes, stunning but only in the purely academic sense of the word.”

She giggled, “Ah, good to know.”

He smiled softly. “I want you to understand you are being taken care of. We are going to be careful, but it’s over. Take a nap. In two hours, we will be in Yakima, and we’ll have some fun. You have a new life ahead.”

She sighed. “That would be nice. I was getting tired of the other one.”

“Well, that’s good,” he remarked in response. “Because you can’t go back to it, not for a long time.”

She closed her eyes and relaxed. Kanita sang ‘S’jemi ne,’ the N.O.A.H. Remix. She was safe. Her breathing relaxed, and the stress drained from her body. His hand was still resting on her thigh, his right thumb rubbing in assurance, lightly, absentmindedly. It was a personal connection both wanted - her because of her ordeal, him because of his. Six months before, he had made a mistake that cost one of his teammates his life. Six months before that, he had witnessed a horror beyond comprehension. He had not been able to get past those dark experiences, but perhaps he could help her get past hers.

Her eyes closed, and she reached her hand down, trapping his against her thigh in permission and folding her fingers through his from the top. She smiled and said with amusement. “Yep, two Libras.”

They were both comfortable with it, and she drifted off to sleep. He left his hand there until they turned north onto Highway 97.

As they headed away from Highway 84, he checked his email on his phone. There were a few miscellaneous messages from clients who could wait until tomorrow. There was nothing there from needsomehelp, so he checked his Signal account.

John had sent a message. He was in Mexico and wanted to know if his birthday present had arrived. Gary answered back, “Yes, it will look great in the pool.”

There was also a message on Signal from needsomehelp; all it said was: “My name is Don. Fred Cooke referred me to you.” Gary sent a message back using voice recognition. “I’m on the road. Can chat in four hours or in the morning. What did Fred tell you about us?”

He set the phone down and relaxed. Paige was sleeping next to him, her face calm. He studied her damage more closely, taking inventory. The eyebrow did look like it needed some help. It had been too long since she was beaten to stitch it now. If it didn’t heal right, a plastic surgeon could clean it up afterward. The rest, at least what could be seen, would be okay in a week or two. For now, she needed rest, nutrition, a chiropractor, and some acupuncture. Those were things he could take care of, he thought. The emotional healing would take longer, but she would be fine once she got to the house and felt secure. Carla’s nurturing was going to help, too. He smiled at that image.

Finally, satisfied he had an idea how to help her, he returned his attention to the drive ahead. Gary liked this part of the country, mile after mile of vineyards, rolling desert hills, and small farms. He liked how it smelled in the morning and the way the heat felt in the evening, at least in the summer. The barren frozen winters he did not enjoy as much, which was why he spent as much time as possible in the Caribbean and the Philippines. Thoughts rolled through his mind as he drove. He probably should not have bought the place in the Philippines, a boutique dive resort on Dinagat Island. During his last visit there four months ago, he was so relaxed and enjoyed the people so much that when he found out the owner was looking to sell and return to Europe, he decided to buy it. He liked the idea of having a base of operations in Southeast Asia. So now he owned a place in Washington State, two homes in Saint Kitts, the cute little resort in the Philippines, and the yacht in Belize.