Page 64 of The Perfect Stranger

“Well, your little crush paid him a visit earlier.” I didn’t respond, for a few reasons. Interpreting my silence for listening, he continued, “Jacobs is a very popular man among the FBI, Baja, and Los Saints. Everyone wants a piece of him, and for that very reason we all have eyes and ears on him.”

“So how does Ruiz fit into this?”

“Jair Ruiz always had her as a mark. It was a tip-off of his movements that set this entire shit-storm in motion. When she turned up at Jacob’s apartment, he appointed Ruiz as her watcher. She’s leaving town, and because you’ve taken your sweet ass time getting her across the border, your job has become that much harder.”

“I’m working to my plan, which up and until now, was going smoothly. Order the foot soldiers to stand back.”

“From all reports they’re getting closer than you are, brother.”

“You don’t spook a deer before shooting it, do you?” It was a terrible analogy, but it was an obvious one. “Vandalizing your target’s home and spraying a warning on their wall is not the wisest of moves.”

“I. Need. Her. Here. If Jair fucking Ruiz gets to the bitch before she lands on my doorstep—”

“I understand. Just another day or two.”

“I’m sure you appreciate what’s at stake, Hunter.” It served as a blatant warning, no concessions. If I didn’t hand her over for him to claim his fortune, we all were better off dead.

Oblivious to the amount of eyes watching, Nina emerged from her unit block and climbed straight into a waiting cab. As predicted, the blue sedan loaded with Los Santoss tailed without any concern of being caught.

My own cab followed at a distance and took us all the way to JFK. This was not good news.

Nina’s cab squeezed into a tight spot in the ‘drop off’ lane, yet my own and the blue sedan were caught in waiting traffic.

“I’ll get out here.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the Indian driver became frantic. “You must remain in the vehicle. We get issued fines if you get out in this lane. You must wait.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it.” Dropping notes on the front passenger seat, I made a run for the entry. If I lost sight of Nina in the airport, I wouldn’t stand a chance of finding her again. She had entered a few doors down, and while Santos members were beginning to filter out of their car, I caught sight of a long dark ponytail swishing from side to side as she hurried down the thoroughfare. I took off at a sprint, bypassing the Santos men. I dodged and weaved, then paused a moment straining to hear as her name was announced over the speaker. Her flight was leaving.

“Fuck!” I cursed loud enough for a prudent middle-aged woman to cast a sideward reprimand.

The check-in display screen flashed.

San Antonio.

Gate Closing.

I was too late. She was the last to board the flight which means even if there was a seat available, there was no chance of getting on board that plane without raising her suspicions of me being there. After everything, and the seed of fear Jacob’s planted would be enough to set off her alarm bells.

I stood back watching while she hurriedly conversed with the irritated attendant. Identification was exchanged before the boarding ticket was handed over. Instead of taking off down the bridge, Nina paused, shoulders squaring before casting her eyes around the room. She could feel me. Or perhaps she could feel how close danger was lurking.

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