Page 9 of No Time Off

It wasn’t long before his intuition was rewarded. The SUV pulled in and parked next to the small terminal. The couple unloaded their suitcases and went inside.

“Bingo,” he murmured.

He wondered which plane on the airfield was theirs. He saw several executive jets parked on the ramp, but none looked like they’d be leaving anytime soon. He waited five minutes, then he grabbed his camera and strolled into the terminal.

He found them sitting in the small restaurant staring out the window at the runway with their backs to him. They were sipping coffee and chatting as if they didn’t have a care in the world. The woman was still wearing a scarf, but he could see her trademark brown hair underneath.

Success. They were clever. Very clever, but they weren’t fooling him twice. No one fooled Mick Watson twice.

He picked a seat at a table near the door and ordered himself a cup of coffee. While he waited for his coffee, he fiddled with his camera, getting it ready for when they stood up and saw him.

But strangely, they just sat there. Fifteen minutes passed, then twenty, and finally they asked for the check. They rose slowly and turned.

Mick’s mouth dropped open. The woman wasn’t the right one. She had the same build as Lexi, but she was at least twenty years older. The tall young man with her was also the wrong man. He pulled the suitcases that had been by their chairs.

The woman must have noticed the look on Mick’s face, because she stopped at his table and offered a sympathetic smile.

“It was a lovely morning for a drive, don’t you think so?” she said in a light voice. “We’ll be heading back now if you’d like to follow us. If not, I have some parting words for you: Leave my daughter the hell alone.”

She strode off, and the young man shrugged at Mick. “I’d listen to her if I were you. Nothing good ever comes from pissing her off.” He easily hefted the suitcases in one hand. “Empty, of course, but quite effective. Have a good day. Not.”

As they walked out of the terminal, Mick could hear their laughter trailing behind them. He finally snapped his mouth shut, put his head in his hands, and swore like he hadn’t sworn for a very long time.

SEVEN

Lexi

The drive to Dulles was mostly uneventful. Slash adeptly steered the limousine as if he had been driving it his entire life. In the back, Hands and Gray were sipping champagne from the limo’s minifridge and keeping Slash and me abreast of our tails. It appeared only one car had left the house with us, but Gray was convinced a second car had joined while we were en route.

“They’re such amateurs,” Hands said. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you, Slash?”

Slash didn’t respond, but I saw the small smile on his face.

“How can you be sure we have two tails?” I asked Gray. I didn’t see it and didn’t dare turn around to check from the front passenger seat, but she seemed confident, and Slash wasn’t contradicting her. Of course, as a CIA agent, she had a lot more experience and training in this area than I did.

“That gray Toyota has been staying just behind us since we got onto the freeway,” she said. “He’s totally the pap.”

“I believe you, babe,” Hands said and then gave her a kiss. “Let’s play up our part. If anyone is checking us out, they will see the happy couple starting off their honeymoon in the back seat of a limo drinking champagne and making out.”

Gray smacked his arm. “Knock it off, Hands. We’re on a mission. Stay focused.”

“Iamfocused,” Hands said, and we all laughed.

At one point, our main tail attempted to pull their car alongside ours to look inside. Hands and Gray ducked down, and Slash kept changing speeds and maneuvering around other cars to make it difficult for them. Finally, they gave up and settled in behind us for the rest of the trip to the airport.

When we arrived at Dulles, Slash guided the limousine into a small slot near the international departures doors. Our main tail and the gray Toyota pulled in behind us. Gray had been right—we did have two tails.

“Have a good trip, you two,” Gray murmured as Slash opened her door. “Safe travels.”

“Thanks for everything,” I said as she slipped out, followed quickly by Hands.

They kept their heads down, their faces still hidden as much as possible. Slash handed them the luggage from the back like a good driver, and they hurried into the terminal. The paparazzi hung back slightly, but one person from each car followed them into the terminal as Slash and I drove off.

We left the terminal area and headed toward the business aviation hangars and warehouses. One of the paparazzi followed us, but we pulled up to a gate and spoke to the guard. We waited while she made a call on her phone.

Soon afterward, the gate swung open, and we pulled into a secure parking area inside a large, mostly empty hangar. The paparazzo, unable to follow, peeled away, headed in a different direction.

Slash and I exchanged a smile.

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