Part 8 (2/2)
They watched the smoke billowing in through the partially opened door.
”Good thing this side is vacant,” said Gabby.
She put her hand on Gabby's arm. ”Why don't we go find another motel and crash for the night?”
”Why get a different one? We're still checked in.”
”Did you use your real name? How did you pay?”
”I used my credit card. Oh.”
”Yeah. We need to go find an ATM and get some cash. Then we can give a fake name at another motel. We don't want to make it too easy for somebody to find us.”
”Right.” Gabby s.h.i.+ned the flashlight in front of them to locate the stairs, and they went down to the first floor.
They slipped out into the alley, got into Gabby's car, and drove away.
Rebecca took out her phone.
”Who are you calling at this hour?”
”Carly. I need to tell her Big Bill is dead.”
”Can't it wait until morning?”
”She'd want to know now. She works until midnight. Never goes to sleep before two.”
”Lousy schedule.”
”She's not answering.”
”Leave her a voice mail.”
Rebecca thought for a moment. ”No. This is not good. Something's wrong. I need to get over there.”
CHAPTER 9 - Tuesday, 1:37 a.m.
Mandibul slipped into the lab. As nimble as a jaguar, the 6-foot-5 black man moved slowly along the wall toward Phillipa's office. His firearm was holstered. With hands the size of an NFL quarterback, he rarely needed a gun.
Her office was empty.
He spotted her, standing at a workbench-in a state of high vulnerability. His timing could not have been better. The steady hiss of her acetylene torch would mask any inadvertent scuff of his boots on the tile floor. He stayed low to avoid any reflection in her welding goggles.
Within a foot of her back, he stood upright. ”Don't move.”
Phillipa flinched.
”Kill the torch.”
She turned it off and set it down on the workbench.
”Feel that?”
She gasped. ”Yes.” She took off her goggles.
”Hold still, or it might go off.”
”Have you no control over your weapon?”
”Very little.”
Phillipa spun around. ”What the h.e.l.l took you so long?”
He grabbed her up in his rock-hard arms and kissed her hard on the lips.
She pulled away. ”How much time do you have?”
”Fifteen minutes.”
”Let's make it count.”
He scooped her up as though she were a feather pillow. Phillipa loved that. She was tall and fit, but at 175 lbs., very few men could make her feel weightless.
Mandibul carried her to her office and set her down on her feet.
She threw off her lab coat and began to unb.u.t.ton his security guard s.h.i.+rt while he took off her blouse.
Phillipa looked up into his eyes. ”You could get fired for this, you know.”
”We won't get caught.”
”I'm not talking about getting caught. I'm saying if you give a sub-par performance.”
”You know better than that.”
She grinned. ”Yes, I do.”
He stripped off her bra, poised to devour her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.
”Mandibul?”
He did not take his eyes off her chest. ”Yes? What do you desire tonight? Your wish is my command.”
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