Jake by Irish Winters

Author:Irish Winters [Winters, Irish]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Windy Days Press
Published: 2017-10-07T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

“Comm check,” Jamaal’s disembodied voice ordered through the burner phone at Jake’s ear while he walked with long quick strides toward the front door of Poindexter’s building and right into his lobby. The thick glass opened silently. An information desk stood at the center. Two hallways branched behind the desk, one to the right, one to the left. Eight elevator doors lined the wall between the entrances to those hallways.

“Copy that,” Jake replied smoothly. He’d donned a pair of dark glasses for added anonymity, and to conceal his black eyes. The glasses were cheap knock offs, similar to the Oakleys he’d once owned in the Corps, but they’d do. With his phone in his ear, he hoped he looked like any other arrogant, too-busy-to-be-bothered yuppie owner of a high-tech empire.

“Copy that,” Lacy’s sweet voice answered calmly. Her backpack hung off his right shoulder with the concealed pistol tucked in an inside pocket. He wished he’d taken the time to handle it, but the honest truth was, he plain didn’t want to. He’d used others just like it to take a few lives in his dismal past. It was only there as a last resort.

If there was ever a time to be one hundred percent focused, it was now. Jamaal had taken up position outside Poindexter’s building, while Lacy remained glued to the window inside the Starbucks across the street.

Jake grinned to himself. Beneath that innocent demeanor of hers was one damned tough woman. Lacy might look like strawberries and cream, but there was a definite shot of Jack Daniels splashed over her sweetness. Make her mad enough, and, whoosh, stand back and watch her burn, baby. Then promise you’ll never do it again.

“May I help you?” the young male security guard at the desk asked. Busy people walked by on their way in and out of the lobby.

“Just point me to Rafe Poindexter’s office, kid,” Jake answered smoothly.

“Is he expecting you?”

Jake offered his biggest smile, shifting the phone at his ear up enough to speak to the guard. “Probably not, but I’m an old frat buddy. Name’s Bernie Rothschild. Bet you’ve heard that name before.” He cocked a brash eyebrow. “Yeah, I’m the guy who got one over on Rafe on the Williamsburg deal. Let me guess. Top floor? Penthouse? The dog. He’s made a killing since then, hasn’t he?”

The guard cocked his head. “I have no idea who you are and I wouldn’t know. Mr. Poindexter runs a professional office. His office in on the first floor, not in the penthouse. Go past the elevators, take the left hall, and keep walking. You can’t miss it.”

Jake nodded his thanks, hitched the backpack up higher, and off he went with his cell phone still at his ear. “You guys copy that?” he asked his team.

“Sure did,” Jamaal came back to him. “Anyone we know?”

“No, and thank you for asking,” Jake replied cheerily as he sauntered past three women in stacked heels and tight skirts. The blonde in the middle shot him a brilliant smile, which earned her a quick smile and a nod.

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