Page 73 of Nicole's Shelter

“I’m convinced Clifton wants you to have a front row seat to what he thinks will be a victory,” he said at last.

“Bring it on.”

“He will.” He took a breath. “The smart thing is to cut his losses and run, but I don’t think he will. You should be prepared. I can teach you to shoot.”

“No.” She shook her head, sending her dark hair slipping over the silky robe covering her shoulder. “Give me a different job.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

“Then go get the pictures.”

She dashed away and he heard the floor creak as she pushed the bed out of the way to reach her safe. There were countless things that could—and likely would—go wrong in this escapade. The authorities he planned to contact might choose to ignore the email. Clifton could be closing in already. Myrtle Beach didn’t have enough crowds at this time of year to provide effective cover. That would hamper both sides of this showdown.

“Here!” She held the envelope aloft like a prized trophy. He removed the pictures first and scanned them. Then he carefully laid out the negatives and did the same thing.

“Rick, that won’t work.”

“I want them to know we have them.”

“Oh. Got it.” When he finished, he handed her the device. “Go ahead and log into your email and send this to your handlers.”

“What should I say?”

“Whatever you want. It’s your party. Just be sure to include your current location.”

She gave a good impersonation of an evil laugh and set to the task with a wicked grin. “You’re going down, Clifton,” she said with a fist pump when she was done.

“It could get ugly.” His stomach pitched. He was using her as bait. “I’d like to promise you it will work out without a hitch, but I can’t.”

This time she came to comfort him, her palms warm and soft on his cheeks. “We’re together.” She pressed up on her toes to brush the softest kiss against his lips. “That’s all I need.”

As she went to the kitchen to prepare what she called a breakfast for ‘her champion’ he said a prayer that she’d feel the same way about him when it was over. He wrote two more emails, studying the incriminating pictures closely before he sent them.

Later, after too much French toast and fresh coffee, he studied the jade figurine on the dresser while she returned the evidence to her safe.

“Why did you keep the Fu dog?”

“Mr. Chan said they were guardians and offered protection and good luck. My sister has the female of the set. Had,” she corrected as her brow furrowed.

“Protection.” Rick considered it a stretch that Chan might have put something incriminating in or on the dog, but he was looking for anything else that would stick to Clifton. “May I take a closer look at it?”

The little jade figure didn’t look like much, though it had some heft as it sat up in his palm. “What’s the difference between the statues?”

“The male has the world under his right paw and the female has a cub under her left paw.”

“A thoughtful gift.”

“I always thought we blew it when we separated the pair.”

The despair on her face said it all. “When you left for college.” He gathered her close when she nodded, her eyes full of unshed tears. “Clifton is a determined bastard. None of this is your fault.”

“The facts according to the head don’t always add up the same way from the heart’s point of view.”

“True.” He understood that all too well, was struggling with the concept right now. “You’ve never mentioned what happened to your dad.”

“Oh, more happiness. Not. He was killed by a drunk driver right after my sister’s first birthday.”

---