Page 41 of Blackstone's Heart
Grant rubbed the back of his neck debating whether he should tell her about the letter. He decided to let Ethan or Nick tell her the details. "I think I’ll let Ethan fill you in on the details. And before you get pissed, I'm not trying to keep you out of the loop hun, I just think it would be better if you heard it from him. Okay?"
Krista nodded. "Fair enough. But if you won't tell me what’s happening, can you at least tell me why you're here?"
"That I can. Ethan thinks that you could be getting a letter soon. Since you'll be getting the mail, he wanted to make sure you weren't alone." Grant explained.
"He thinks this guy would be watching or could try something?" She questioned, catching on to Ethan’s thinking.
"It's a possibility. Hell, the guy had enough balls to try and blow up a building. Stalking you as you check the mail wouldn't be out of the realm."
"I guess not. Well, let's finish our coffee and we can head out. Then maybe you could swing me by Blackout so boss man could fill me in."
"I think I might be able to do that hun." Grant winked.
Krista gave him a smile and a wink in return as the two finished their coffee. Once done, she slipped on her own harness followed by her jacket. She locked up Ethan's house and followed Grant to his truck. She gave a low whistle of appreciation at the solid black low rider '52 ford.
"Now that's a piece of art."
Grant opened the passenger door and helped her in. "Took me and my dad nearly two years to restore her. She's my baby." He grinned.
"Ethan told me that you and the others served with him."
"Yep. Gage was the first one he met. Ethan had been in the Corps about a year when Gage was transferred to their unit. I came in about six months later. Tony and Lance we met once we all got recruited by MARSOC."
Krista asked. "MARSOC, that's what replaced the Force Recon units right?"
Grant nodded. "You've done your research."
"Well, comes with the territory. Especially when I was writing my first series. All my heroes were Marines and the last book included one who had been Recon then recruited by MARSOC." She shrugged. “So, what exactly do you do for Blackout? Other than baby-sitting duty.”
"I do the same thing that I did for the Corps. I have the fun job, I get to blow shit up and play with guns." He chuckled.
She laughed hard at that one. "See, that's what I would want to do if I had decided to go into the military. Handle the arsenal. I love things that go boom and big guns."
"You are a rare woman Krista Jameson."
"No shit Grant."
They pulled up at the UPS store. Just like at Ethan's, Grant came around and helped her out of the truck. Whoever thought chivalry was dead had never met Grant Whitney. Krista covertly watched the people around them as they moved to the P.O. Box. She pulled out the key and opened the box. Her heartbeat sped up and she licked her suddenly dry lips. There were about six letters, what looked like the publishing house's annual newsletter and a small square box wrapped in brown wrapping paper with Kris James written in block letters. What also hit her right away was the horrible odor.
"Grant."
"What is it?" He asked moving to her side. “Holy hell, what’s that smell?”
"I think it’s coming from the package he sent. It also looks like it’s leaking something." She answered, trying to stay calm and not gag.
"Shit. Okay, hang on. Don't touch it." He ordered.
She watched as he pulled out a small device no bigger than a cell phone. Krista watched in fascination as he quickly, yet efficiently ran the device over, under and around the package. "What are you doing?"
"Checking for explosives. This little baby will pick up anything except weapons grade plutonium." He said. He let out a sigh and slipped the device back into his pocket. "It's clean. Come on, let's get this stuff and get the hell out of here."
She started pulling the contents of the box out, but not touching the box. “You don’t have like a plastic bag or something in your truck do you?”
“Yeah, I think I do. Hold tight.” He answered.
Feeling suddenly paranoid and jumpy, Krista started rocking on the balls of her feet. Grant hurried back holding up a giant Ziploc bag and a plastic bag. Carefully, Grant helped her slip the wretched smelling and oozing box into the Ziploc bag. She zipped it before placing it in the plastic back and knotting the handles.
“I want to get out of here. I can’t explain it Grant.” She stated.
