Page 34 of Live a Little!

He shot her a glance that, even in the dim lighting, she had no trouble interpreting.Shutup.

She did. And watched as Jake lifted layer after layer of chopsticks out of the box, each layer buffered by transparent packing material. Patiently, he removed each layer from the crate and laid the chopsticks on the cement. Then he got right in the box, taking the flashlight from her and doing a minute inspection of the woodencrate.

He shook his head as he emerged. Then turned his attention to the chopsticks themselves. Slipping a set from its paper sleeve, he broke them apart, then snapped one in pieces, sniffing it, then touching it to his tongue. He grimaced and wiped his tongue on his glovedhand.

“Drugs?” she criedhopefully.

“Sliver.”

“Ouch.”

He wrapped the chopstick pieces in a bit of the packaging and slipped the small bundle into his pocket. He made a close inspection of each layer as he returned it to the crate, careful to preserve the sameorder.

Suddenly he cocked his head,listening.

She heard it, too. A deep male voice, muffled, but growing louder. Even as her eyes widened and her heart pounded in panic, she watched Jake shove the last few layers of chopsticks back into thecrate.

The flashlight beam wavered all over the place as her hand startedshaking.

He slid the lid back on top of the crate, then grabbed the flashlight, flicked it off and took her hand in his. He hauled her back behind the last of the crates, against thesacks.

They crouched there, and he lifted a black sleeve to reveal a watch with a luminescent dial, which had to be good to at least thirty feet underwater.Figured.Cynthia hoped it also had some kind of secret agent contraption to get them the hell out of there before they were discovered. The glowing numbers showed it was just aftermidnight.

Jake leaned toward her and put his lips to her ear. “Night watchman,” hewhispered.

She turned to him, startled. She didn’t remember seeing any night watchman on the payroll. But, of course, they employed a security firm. The night watch must be part of the securitycontract.

The sound she’d been listening for, and dreading, came. She heard the heavy door to the warehouse open. She peered cautiously over the top of a crate and saw two uniformed security guards. They were armed and burly, which was not good, but they also carried lunch boxes and thermoses, which made them somehow lessfrightening.

They headed straight for the scarred table where the guys played cards on their lunch breaks. They put their stuff down, and one said to the other, “I’ll take a turn round the main offices, you do a walk around in here.” He gestured broadly, and Cynthia felt her already tight nerves crank anothernotch.

Agent Wheeler, who obviously didn’t have any nerves, put a finger to his lips and flipped the flashlight so the handle faced out. She was puzzled until she recalled how heavy it had felt when she was holding it. Presumably it doubled as some kind of a weapon. He reached beneath his jacket with his free hand and withdrew hisgun.

Jake angled his body so it blocked hers from sight, and she stared at the dark outline of his back until it started to blur. Her senses were superheightened as she crouched there, feeling as though she were caught in a nightmare. She heard the slow footfalls of the guard against the cement. He was overweight and wheezed slightly as he walked. The coffee beans smelled as potent as a triple espresso. She heard her own swallow, and tasted a hint of the chocolate bar she’d eatenearlier.

Closer and closer the slow, plodding footsteps came. She felt Jake’s muscles tense in readiness. Her own fight or flight response was on full alert, adrenaline pumping through her system. She reached for the crowbar, knowing it wasn’t much, but it was heavy and she could whack the guard with it if she hadto.

Had the man seen them? He seemed to be heading straight for their hiding spot, not checking the other areas of the warehouse. But if he’d seen them, why hadn’t he called his partner? She licked dry lips and tried to think up some plausible explanation as to why she, an office accountant, might be crouching among the crates in thedark.

Nothing plausible occurred toher.

“I know you’re back there! Come on out,” the guard said suddenly, in the voice a father might use with a child acting up. She didn’t need Jake’s signal to stay where she was. She was paralyzed byfear.

“Come on. I’ve got something for you.” The voice came again, closernow.

Jake was poised on the balls of his feet, ready tospring.

Something hairy brushed her hand and she squeaked in alarm before biting off her own cry of horror. She jerked her hand back and watched a big dark shape scuttle by. It had a long snakingtail.

Oh, God. Arat.

“Hey, Wally. How are you, buddy?” the guard crooned, just as she heard the heavy door open onceagain.

“You gotta stop feedin’ that rodent, it’s disgusting,” a grumpy older man’s voicecomplained.

“Don’t hurt his feelings, Harry. He’s a very smart rat. Look how he knows I got Oreos in here.” The voice sounded fainter, and she heard the boots heading away, then the clicking of a lunchbox.

“He’s vermin. I got rat poison inhere.”

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