Encrypted (21 page)

Seriously, what was she doing
trying to have a meaningful relationship with Dudley Do-Right, no matter how hot he was
?
With a burst of self-righteous anger and great aplomb, Quirk strode onto the plane
,
heading for anonymous sex.

* * *

Francois pretended to sleep
.
It was not difficult
,
since the doctor had heavily sedated him to keep him
from
injuring himself
.
But there had been no need
.
The symbols were etched
.
H
is task
was
documented
.
Until he could burn that damnable Picasso, there was no need to further cut
himself
.
But the agents could not fathom this fact
,
so they kept a sharp eye on him
.
They c
onstantly monitor
ed
his every movement
.

That is
,
until now
.
Now the gaggle of agents was clustered around the television
.
The broadcast drifted across the room
.
It seemed
that
the first case of the bubonic plague had crossed the pond
.
The
bull
pen
was abuzz with anxiety, fear, and excitement
.

Americans
.
Francois snorted before he could stop himself, and then had to cover
his action—
as if he were just snoring
.
But the Americans were just so damned arrogant
.
So certain that an ocean on either coast would keep all danger away
.
It hadn’t worked in either Great War, and it didn’t work this time
.

Those
who
were afraid had every right to be
.
Most likely
,
they were men or women with children
.
The Black Death always took a heavy toll, but its most caustic effects were upon the young
.
Those
who
were excited were just blasted fools
.
There was no fighting this plague
.
No amount of sharpshooting could stop the bacterium from rolling across the country unchecked.

Francois had a difficult time hearing the entirety of the report
,
as some agents were busy theorizing out loud
,
while the rest were shushing them
.
But truly
,
the
Frenchman
didn’t need to hear the details
.
He knew enough.

The first case had been diagnosed in a woman who had just arrived in New York from Venice
.
It could mean only
one
thing
.

The Hidden Hand was here
.

He
was here.

Francois did not have much time left.

* * *

Ronnie had to shove hard to get her bag into the overhead compartment
.
She’d packed her entire wardrobe for this little sojourn
.
Not that she had any idea what she
was
going to wear
.
In her line of work, she didn’t have much reason to get all gussied up
.
She looked over her shoulder down the long aisle
.
No Quirk
.
His plane had taken off over three hours ago
.
He was probably touching down in Acapulco right about now, but damn, she could use the gay gene right about now
.

Realizing
that
she was holding up the final boarding, Ronnie sat down in her seat and pulled out a
Cosmopolitan
she’d bought in the terminal
.
It
was in Spanish
,
but she got the gist fairly well
.
To get a man, you had to look like a caffeinated model and be a sex goddess
.
She
did not have
either strength going for her
.
Flipping through the pages, Ronnie became very aware of exactly how little she had going for her
.
Bulimia was suddenly becoming a lifestyle option.

A commotion
toward
the front of the plane pulled her attention away from the magazine
.
Come on
, she thought
.
They were already fifteen minutes behind because of mechanical difficulties
,
which was cutting into her panic time
.
She wanted to get to the bar early and have a few margaritas before Zach arrived
.
If you were going to get horribly rejected, it was best to do it slightly toasted.

Then she heard an ever
-
so
-
effeminate voice whine, “But this is an emergency!”

It couldn’t be
!
But there was Quirk, hands full of shopping bags trying to squeeze past the flight crew
.
They were never going to let him on with all those carry-ons, but Quirk leaned into the
flight attendant’s
ear and whispered something to make her blush
.
Still flustered, the woman let him by
.
If her assistant ever turned his sights
toward
conquering the females, he would have it made.

After a dozen “
sorrys
,
” Quirk was at her row
.
She couldn’t hide her relief.

“I thought you had your heart set on a cabana boy?”

“Somebody’s got to protect you from yourself.”

Ronnie laughed for the first time in this nerve-rack
ing
day
.
“Yeah, right
.
You realized if Zach
did
show up and
didn’t
arrest me, that he’d be looking
mighty
fine.”

Quirk held up his phone and snapped a picture
.
“You’re going to want to capture the memories.” He looked down at the screen
, and
then at her
.
“You aren’t seriously going to wear
that
,
are you?”

Under his critical gaze, Ronnie squirmed
,
but was luckily rescued by the
flight attendant,
who urged him to stow his numerous bags in the overhead compartment.

“More phones?” Ronnie teased, but Quirk raised an eyebrow as he opened one of the bags.

Her assistant pulled out the skimpiest of skimpy red dress
es
, then another in black, and another in dark purple.

“Sweetie, if he is going to risk getting fired or even imprisoned for meeting you, then I am going to make sure
that
he doesn’t regret it.”

* * *

Zach pulled out the black turtleneck from his bag
.
Too pretentious
.
Too George Clooney
.
Although…Damn it, but guys on the cover of
GQ
were usually wearing one
.
He shoved the garment back in the bag
.
It was always good to keep your options open
.

He stared at t
he box of condoms
on
the nightstand
.
The pack was brand
spanking new
.
I
ts plastic wrap
was
still intact
.
Jesus, if he brought them along
,
would it make him look like a hound dog
?
Would Ronnie get the mistaken impression
that
sex was the only reason he had wanted to meet her
?
But
what
was the other option
?
If things did go according to plan,
would
they find some run-down, all-night pharmacy south of the border
?

After only a second
of
pondering the second option, Zach tossed the prophylactics into his bag
.
Be prepared. That was his motto, but he doubted it was what his Boy Scout leader had in mind.

The turtleneck came out again
.
He wasn’t posing for the cover of a magazine
,
after all
.
But if he didn’t bring it, what would he wear Sunday when they went out
?
Zach snorted
.
Who was he kidding
?
Did he have any right to think the cop and robber would ever have a second date
?

Oh
,
how he hated his therapist right about now
.
This was all Dr. Webster’s fault
.
The guy wouldn’t stop harping about fantasy projections and fear
s
of intimacy
.
Every time Zach would complain about Ronnie, the good doctor would always turn
the topic
around
to focus on
him
.
Why was
he
so afraid to meet
?
Why was
Zach
reluctant to bring the relationship into the real world
?

Well, maybe, just maybe, it was because someday he might be forced to arrest her ass
.
But, of course, he couldn’t say that
to
Webster
.
Instead
,
he’d gone and invited Ronnie to meet him
,
and it hadn’t been until after the high had worn off that he remembered
that
he was breaking about fifteen federal laws
.

Bad
FBI
agent
!
B
ad
!

But what good was he to the
B
ureau when his heart was divided like this
?
He couldn’t stop thinking about her
,
and not in a “how do I apprehend a fugitive
?
” kind of way
.
More in a “
H
ow do your eyelashes glisten in the morning
?
” kind of way.

Okay, that was it
.
No more internal arguing
.
No more doubt
.
No more inner turmoil
.
He was going
,
and that was that
.
Tucking the turtleneck back in before he zipped his bag closed, Zach checked his watch
.
Crap
.
H
e was running late
.
Well, not exactly late
.
Late as in he was tapping into the three-hour
lead
time
he had given himself
.
On the weekend, traffic across the border could be unpredictable, and he wanted to have plenty of time to find the bar and knock back a few beers to take the edge off before she arrived.

Before he could start doubting himself again, Zach headed for the door
.
Alarm set
and
keys in hand, he left the house and strode
toward
his car
.
Bag in the trunk
,
and he was ready to leave
.
B
ut as he opened the car, he noticed a little “Welcome to Our House” garden sign by the front door
.
A bunny chewed on a cute little carrot
.
He’d walked past that thing every
day for months
,
and
had
forgotten it was even there
.
The last of Julia’s decorating
touch
es
.