Evidence Series Box Set Volume I: Books 1-3 by Rachel Grant

Author:Rachel Grant
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Janus Publishing
Published: 2015-04-27T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Mara leaned against the ATM as though standing without support were impossible. Curt read over her shoulder. “Holy fuck, Mara.”

“That money isn’t mine. I swear.” Her voice shook. “I should have five, maybe six thousand here, plus ten grand in savings.”

How many times had he heard a defendant swear the drugs/money/weapon wasn’t theirs? “Withdraw three hundred, and let’s get out of here.”

As they hurried through Sears, his mind raced. They couldn’t talk once they were in the car—what if it were bugged? They had to plan now. “We need a new car. And I need to talk to Palea.”

“I need to talk to Jeannie—”

“Absolutely not. That’s exactly who they’ll expect you to turn to.”

“They who?”

Curt jogged down the escalator inside Sears. “I think it should be obvious by now. Raptor.”

Curt was five stairs below her before he realized Mara had halted. “Why would Raptor be after me? They work for my uncle—”

“Precisely.”

“Dammit, Curt. Uncle Andrew would never—”

He raced back up the escalator before they drew attention. “Mara, we don’t have time for this now! We need a plan. I need to call Palea and set up a meeting place with him. I can’t use the new phone to call him. Palea’s phone is probably compromised, just like mine was.”

“From the ATM transactions, whoever is after me already knows we’re at Ala Moana. Make the call from here.”

She was right. Their location was already compromised. He sprinted down the last few steps, and this time, she followed.

They quickly located a pay phone. Palea answered on the first ring and let loose with what Curt assumed were foul Pidgin curses before adding, “Shit, Dominick, took you long enough to call!”

“I need your help, Palea. But both your phone and mine are out.”

“You know this?”

“Yes. I’ll tell you more in person. Pull the battery from your cell, then call me at this pay phone from a landline. Can you do that in the next fifteen seconds?”

“I’m on the Hickam airfield. No landline nearby. The shooter got away.”

Curt swore, even though he’d expected both answers. “We need to meet someplace private. And I’ve got about thirty seconds before I need to get the hell away from here.”

“Let me think.”

He waited, tension coiling in his gut.

Finally, Palea said, “I have an idea. Remember that time we were having drinks and I told you about my favorite movie scene?”

Years ago, they’d met when he took classes at Quantico while Palea was training to be an agent. The laid-back Islander and the stiff Harvard Law student had struck an odd friendship. On one memorable evening over beers, Palea had vented about an FBI case that had gone sour in the courts. He’d then needled Curt with what he declared was his favorite movie scene of all time. “Yeah.”

“One hour. Got it?”

Curt wasn’t sure he did but hoped to hell Mara would. He hung up, then turned to her. “You know the scene in Jurassic Park when the lawyer gets eaten while sitting on the toilet? Where

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