Page 2 of Winters Heat

“Freakin’ fantastic.” Jared Westin had one inflection for all occasions, calloused, full of grit and gravel. Every day. Every time. “What do you need?”

Winters scanned the airport corridor. Nothing but business suits and carry-on bags. The trio was nowhere to be seen. “A clue where to find the fuckers.”

Jared spoke to someone in the background and returned. “Pulling the parking lot footage, checking into their car rental. When’d they pick up a girl?”

Even his monotone questions had a hard-boiled splash. Jared could order a burger at a drive-thru and scare the employee clean out of her hairnet.

“We arrived at the same time, my tails leading the way. A woman had the package in hand. Shit got complicated. They took her. I backed off, figuring Boy Genius could work his satellite magic.”

“Yeah, something like that. Parker’s deep in the airport’s system, hacking their programs. He’ll send you info and screen shots ASAP.”

“Hey, Jared.”

“What?”

“Did I thank you for this job yet?”

“Nope.”

“Good.”

“Get to work, dick.” Jared coughed his equivalent to a laugh and hung up.

Winters double-timed it back to his truck and jumped in. The tires squealed as he rounded the exit ramp. He tossed a handful of change into the payment kiosk and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, waiting for the mechanical arm to lift and for HQ to hit pay dirt. His phone buzzed, and he checked the caller ID.

“What you got, boss man?”

“Parker traced their vehicle, a black, four-door Taurus, to a car rental company in Virginia. They used a credit card, which was also used at a nearby motel. Head there first.”

“Roger that.” As he exited the garage, the sun flooded the cab of the truck, and he pulled on his mirrored aviator sunglasses. “What’s up with the credit card?”

He used cash on his jobs, as he assumed all operatives did.

“No idea. Nothing turned up.”

“Huh.”

“Sending the address to your phone now. And Winters?”

Winters received the address, programmed the GPS, and grunted in response. He picked through empty boxes of Dots, far more interested in crushing his candy craving than hearing a lecture from Jared. “What?”

“I scanned the parking lot footage. They put that girl in the trunk. And none too carefully. I don’t think we’re looking at two teams. No intel on a friendly or a female op. I’d tread with care.”

He found some candy stuck at the bottom of a box and chomped down on it.The trunk, huh? That’s overkill. “Got it.”

“I’m serious, Winters. If this is a case of wrong place, wrong time, you dust off your kid gloves and use them.”

That was more of an order than Winters would admit. He hated working with untrained women. They were always ready to bawl when it was time to tangle. It was better for all involved if he could hand her to a more sympathetic operative. But he was the only one here. Not much of a choice.

“I’ll behave. I promise.” He sounded like he was trying to get a crazy girlfriend off the phone. “When I have an update, I’ll make contact.”

Winters shuddered thinking about the red-eyed, tear-brimmed women. Finding the mystery woman dry-eyed was about as likely as him scoring a much-needed cup of joe in the next fifteen minutes.

The GPS showed the motel to be only miles away. Highway signs flew by, and cars shifted lanes to make way for him barreling down the road. He rounded a bend, saw nothing but red brake lights, and cursed. He tried to move to the left lane, but traffic was at a standstill. He slammed his hand on the top of the steering wheel. Maybe he could make a list of everything that could go wrong today and see how close he came by the time it was lights out.

He laid on his horn and crept toward the left lane. No one moved. Not an inch. Not even the moron he threatened to hit with his truck. Winters rolled the window down and motioned to the driver. Motioned may have been too conservative a description. He bore down on the man like a crack-addicted grizzly bear, ready for a fight to the death.

“Get over.” He pointed to the shoulder of the highway. “Over. Now.”

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