Page 136 of One Wrong Move
“Why do you always smoke outside?”
“I like the fresh air.”
Casey laughed. “Fresh air and smoke, that’s an interesting combination.”
He was not amused. “I’ll be in shortly.” Once his simple-minded partner went inside, he lit a cigarette and made the call.
“It’s about time,” Teresa said when she answered.
“I told you. I can’t talk in front of him, or he’ll get wise to what we’re doing.”
“Fine, but I’ve got a huge problem.”
At least she saidshehad a problem, because her problems weren’t his. Not any longer.
“Enrique’s been arrested.”
He narrowed his eyes. “How do you know that?”
“He used his call to reach out to one of José’s men in California. He relayed the info to José. All I know is he better not talk orél está muerto. And the same goes for you too if you fail me.”
FIFTY-NINE
DECKARD ROLLED OVERand looked at the alarm clock. He stretched and clicked the light button so he could read the black numbers on the dull gray background. 2:15.
Time to get up. They needed to get ready, make the drive to the airport, and be there an hour and a half before their flight to Boston.
He sat up, placing his socked feet on the floor. The storm had whisked in cold, damp weather. Rubbing his neck, he gave himself a moment to rouse, then stood, stretched, and headed into the hall.
Rounding the corner, he bumped straight into Harper, knocking her off her feet.
“Oh, geez.” He offered his hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“All good,” she said, taking hold of his hand.
He pulled her easily to her feet.
“Thanks.” She ran her hand through her tousled hair.
He smiled. She looked adorable.
Adorable? He didn’t use words likeadorable. His brain was going haywire around Harper Grace. It was like he was falling for the lady, but he couldn’t be. He didn’t fall. “Ladies first,” he finally said, gesturing toward the bathroom. “I’ll go make some coffee.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He stood there, smiling at her like a fool.Get your head on straight. “I’ll go now.”
She stepped inside the bathroom, and the shower spray sounded as he moved for the galley kitchen. He stepped to the coffeemaker, assuming the coffee was kept nearby. He probably should have asked. He started looking in the cupboards.
Glass shattered behind him, and a bullet hit the island.
He dropped to the ground.
Glass shattered again and again, bullets slamming into different objects.
He crouched low, grabbed a knife off the counter, and moved. Waiting at the end of the island, he took a solid breath and bolted around the corner, flying back to his room for his gun. He slammed into Harper, both tumbling to the floor.
“Was that ...?” she asked, scrambling to her feet in her robe.
