Just One Night Part 20

Rain was falling when he stepped out. Ridiculous city. Always dripping. Who'd want to live in a rainforest? Not him.

He gave directions and the driver said, "Going to the bar to watch the game, huh?"

"Absolutely."

And he was treated to the cabbie's views on the Mariners. He experienced a strange sense of disconnection. He could so easily be one of those guys who followed teams and put money on fantasy leagues and whatever men who lived in one place for extended periods of time did.

He'd never missed that sort of life because he'd never envisioned it. Still, as the cab splashed its way through the wet streets, he began to warm up to the idea.

h.e.l.l, it was a cold, wet night and the idea of some male bonding over a game sounded good.

He paid the driver and entered the noisy place. There was one seat left at the bar. Empty because it was closest to the big screen and he'd have to crane his neck to see. Since his other choice was standing and his leg hurt like a son of a b.i.t.c.h, he took the barstool.

After ordering a beer, he started to watch the game. Groans, shouts of encouragement, cheers punctuated the play. They were the people of his neighborhood, he supposed, if he'd ever really had a neighborhood. They were professionals with ties bunched in their pockets, stopping to watch some baseball on their way home from work. They were soccer moms and dads. The plumbers and electricians he'd call if something needed fixing. They were groups of guys who liked to hang out together and a few singles like him who didn't want to sit home alone.

Especially not when the woman he'd fallen in love with was out on the town with another guy.

He took a pull of his beer, cold and smooth going down his throat. He rubbed the back of his neck, wishing the p.r.i.c.kling sensation would go away. Hailey was fine. Maybe she had terrible taste in dates but she wasn't in a jungle surrounded by rebel forces wanting to harm her. She was an intelligent woman in a big city.

She'd be fine.

He tried to concentrate on the game but he couldn't stop thinking about her. About everything she was communicating to him by dating another man.

And what had he communicated to her? By stepping out of the way and letting her go?

Maybe that's what his irritation was about. It wasn't her in danger, it was him. In danger of losing the most amazing woman he'd ever met.

"What a fool!" he suddenly blurted aloud.

"I know, man," the chunky guy beside him said. "He totally shoulda seen that comin."

They both had their eyes on the screen. "Yeah," Rob agreed. "He should have seen it coming."

Tomorrow, he'd call her.

And what?

Was he really thinking about changing his life dramatically? For a woman?

His pocket buzzed and he realized it was his cell, which he'd put on vibrate. He glanced at the call display. "Gary? Why you calling so late?" He calculated it must be after eleven in New York.

"Where are you?"

"What? Oh, in a bar."

"Go somewhere quiet. Now."

19.

GARY WASN'T A MAN to give orders without serious reason. Every nerve in Rob's body went into heightened alert. He rose from the bar, tossed money on the counter and walked out to the relative quiet of the street.

"I'm outside. What is it?"

"Those pics you sent me? Of the guy you wanted checked out?"

His fight-or-flight response was on full alert. Only there was no flight. It was all fight. "What about him?"

"Is he still in Seattle?"

"He left for a while but he's back. Why?"

"Your instincts are the best I've ever seen. Dennis Thurgood is a person of extreme interest to Interpol, the CIA and the DEA."

"Holy s.h.i.t. What'd he do?"

"He's a real bad dude. Drugs and arms mostly. He almost got caught in a big bust in Paris a few months ago. n.o.body knew he'd snuck into the States. The best guess is he's trying to hide out."

Rob thought of the fact the man had said he wouldn't need a mortgage. "You can add money-laundering to the list."

"Any idea where Thurgood is now?"

He wanted to punch something. "Out with my girl."

"Where?"

"I don't know." Fear, anxiety, anger churned in his gut and he had to tamp them down or he was no good to anybody. He forced himself to calm down. Think.

"They were going for dinner. I'll find out where."

"You call me when you find out where they are and I'll relay the information to the right people."

"Yeah."

"Do not be the hero. Let the pros handle it."

He didn't waste time arguing. There was no time. He ended the call.

Hit the b.u.t.ton that would connect him with Hailey. "Come on," he urged. "Pick up."

She didn't pick up. Instead, he got her chirpy message telling him that she would love to talk to him but unfortunately couldn't take his call right now, blah, blah, blah. He stood there, watching as raindrops. .h.i.t puddles and when the tone sounded for him to leave a message, he said: "Hailey. I need to talk to you. It's urgent."

Much as he was tempted to tell her to get away from Mr. Slick, and fast, he couldn't take the chance that he might somehow intercept the message.

He cursed.

If only she'd told him where she was going.

Fortunately her best friend Julia's business card was still in his wallet from when she'd first met him.

To his relief she answered right away. "First Impressions, Julia sp-"

"Julia, it's Rob. Hailey's in trouble."

"What?"

"I need to know where she is."

There was a pause and he got the feeling Hailey was one of those women who tell their BFF everything. Which was confirmed when Julia said carefully, "I'm sure if Hailey wanted you to know where she is she'd have told you."

Once more he had to tamp down the surge of emotions that threatened to choke him and make him do something stupid like scream at Julia.

"Listen. The guy she's with? I got a bad feeling about him. I snapped a few photos and sent them to a friend of mine who has connections. Turns out he's a real bad dude. We're talking international criminal here."

"Rob? Have you been drinking?"

"No. I'm serious. Please. Your friend is in real danger."

"I don't know."

"I'm a hard-news reporter. I have instincts honed by years of reporting on guys like him. And I have connections."

"Maybe I could just call her."

"I tried that. Her phone's off."

He heard her curse, knew she was worried about Hailey, but not sure whether it was her date or Rob who was the real problem.

How could Rob help her? Every second that ticked by was another second Hailey was at the sc.u.mbag's mercy. He said, "I'm going to give you the number of my editor at World Week. He'll confirm what I'm saying."

"How will I know it's really him?"

"You can look him up on Google!" Frustration careened through him. "Here's the number."

"Okay. I'm sorry to be difficult, but I have to look out for my friend."

"Then make sure you do. She's in real danger."

"WHAT'S UP?" John rolled over, lazily stroked Julia's back.

She snuggled up against him, glad to have his comfort and warmth. "That was the weirdest phone call." She relayed what Rob had said to her.

"You don't believe him?" he asked, frowning.

"I don't know. I don't want to cause Hailey any embarra.s.sment."

She called her friend's cell. As Rob had told her, it was off. She left a message. "Hailey. It's Julia. Hope your date's going well. Call me the second you get this. Love you."

Then she rapidly texted a similar message.

"I didn't tell Rob where she is in case he's a crazy-a.s.s stalker."

"What if he's telling the truth?"

She nibbled her lower lip. "He gave me his editor's phone number in New York. How do I even know it's his editor?"

"Seems like a pretty elaborate plan to get to a woman he sees almost every day anyway."

"I know. I just..." She turned to him, her new lover, and found there was something so rea.s.suring and solid about him. It was wonderful to have a man she could trust. "The story seems so far-fetched. How many times does a girl end up on a date with a-a-terrorist?"

He drew her in close and kissed her cheek. "It seems to me that if there's even the smallest chance of it being true you need to warn her."

Julia jumped out of bed, grabbed her panties and stepped into them. "You're right. Come on, get dressed."

"I had plans for round two."

She dimpled at him. "Later. Right now you are taking me out to dinner at a very expensive new restaurant."

"Might this be the expensive new restaurant where your friend is on her date?"

"Yes."

He reached for his shirt. "So, we tell her she might want to ditch the date."

"You got it."

"And then round two?"

"And then round two."

"Are you going to tell Rob?"

"I don't think so. His instincts tell him this guy's bad news. Fair enough. But I have instincts, too, and they tell me that Rob crashing Hailey's date is a terrible idea."

HAILEY BELIEVED IN the power of positive thinking. And that meant that if she was determined to have a good time, she ought to have a good time.

The hollow feeling in her stomach must simply be hunger.

She pinned the bright smile back on her face as she listened to her date grill the wine waiter-no, sommelier, as he'd made a point to call him-about a certain vintage.