Page 41 of Etched in Stone
“Fine. I’ve got another idea. It’s riskier for Luis, but it might work. You said your perception thingy was fixed?”
“Yeah.”
“Could you be me?”
“Possibly, but I don’t have a voice modulator. I’d sound just like me.”
“Fly me down around the back side of the building, and then you go down the elevator as me.
Then you hand over the fake and I peek around to make sure everything’s kosher.”
“And what are you going to do if it’s not?”
“Run like hell?”
“This is not a good plan.”
“It’s perfectly sound for a five minute plan.”
“And what about my voice?”
“Whisper. Tell him you lost it screaming out your orgasms.”
Ray chuffed at that, but it at least got him smiling.
“And what if he catches the fake right away?”
“Tell him a yarn. It only works when Ray touches it, or he figured out that the coordinates lead to somewhere in South America. Yeah, send them on a wild goose chase to Brazil. That’s good.”
“This is not a good plan.”
“The other plan involves me in that elevator.”
“How about you not going down at all?”
“You need back up. Besides, I can go to the bodega and get help. That way it’ll be a few of us against Pablo. I have a feeling there’s an advantage to having more eyes around Pablo. He’ll be less likely to do something stupid.”
“You’ll go straight to the bodega.”
“Promise.”
Ray touched a few buttons on his gizmo and then flew her down the back alley. Ray hopped up a few stories and went into the building through the fire escape. It made sense. If Pablo was haunting the elevator, hoping for a ride up to the roof for another chance to throw her off, he’d be in for a disappointment when he called down from the third floor.
Jesse took off in a sprint, suddenly wishing she’d taken the time to put on more comfortable shoes.
Her little ballet flats that she wore around the apartment were fine for lounging, but running in them was a challenge. As a habit, Jesse did not run much at all if she could avoid it.
In through the back of the bodega, she skidded to a halt when she saw Luis behind the counter, just as cool as a cucumber.
“Shit, Luis, where’s your phone?”
“Jesse-” He paused when a pat of his pockets came up empty.
“Where the fuck is my phone?”
“Pablo has it. Said you were kidnapped.”
Jesse didn’t understand the entire stream of Spanish that came out of his mouth, but she was sure most of it was naughty. “Fuckin’ Puta!”
