Page 49 of In the Nick of Time
“I think you should be less worried about my existence and more worried about Agent Sedgewick, who was abducted.”
The bridge of Doug’s nose was getting sore from all the pinching he’d been resorting to lately, but he pinched it again anyway. The tortoise did have a point though.
“Did Nick know about this?” He seemed to recall Nick saying something about his aunt, turtle possession, and talking, but—“About this… talking thing?”
“We’d only recently discussed it. Again, not the point.”
Tim had a very precise way of speaking, his words short and clipped.
“Right. We’ll set the talking aside for later. Nick was ambushed and hustled into a black car. What else?” Doug retrieved his phone from his pocket, ready to call in reinforcements.
“Two men. They came right up to us, overpowered him, and that was that. I’d say they were tall, but everyone is taller than I am. They were quick and businesslike. Maybe in their thirties, looked harmless until they got close.”
“Black Expedition.”
“Yes.”
“But no plate numbers.”
“Well,” Tim said slowly, “no. But the right front fender was crumpled. Looked recent. Not that I’m an expert on that sort of thing.”
Doug snapped his lips shut, refusing to ask exactly what Tim the Tortoise was an expert on. Sand? Types of lettuce? Thank you, Agent Sedgewick.
“Which way did they go?” he asked.
“Hmm. By the time I was able to get around the corner, they were gone.”
Doug sighed. Nick was gone and he had no clues as to where.
“But, from the sound of their tires screeching, I’d say they turned right. That would mean that they’d were heading to the airport or out of town. It’s my guess that they took him somewhere past Harry Reid and out into the desert. Isn’t that where you went yesterday?”
As luck—or habit—would have it, it was the keys to the Pontiac that Doug had grabbed when he’d left the room. As much as driving in Vegas was absolute hell, he’d thought that having their own set of wheels at hand might be a good idea after the walk yesterday. Pulling the key ring out of his pocket, Doug jogged over to where they’d left Nick’s car when they first arrived.
Kidnapping had not been on Doug’s list of Bad Things That Might Happen. He’d failed Nick by not considering all angles. By not fucking protecting him. The same way he hadn’t protected Mel Schoenhut or Esther Carroll by not training them as diligently as he should have—and keeping in touch after they’d moved on. Except this was worse because, dammit, in just a few short days, Nick Sedgewick had managed to burrow through Doug’s walls and make himself important to Doug, more important than a mere work-acquaintance or friend.
“Fucking motherfuckers.” No way was Doug letting anything happen to Agent Nick Sedgewick. It had seemed like they’d gotten nowhere in their investigation, but they’d clearly rattled some chains they didn’t know about.
“Hey!” Doug heard from behind him. “Don’t leave me here.”
A growl rumbled through Doug’s chest but he turned back, scooped up the tortoise, tucked him under one arm, and again began heading toward the constipated bee-bear car. After this assignment, Doug was having a discussion with Nick about the car he drove. The conversation would probably devolve into something about age or Doug’s inflexible attitude, but it would be worth it to have Nick back.
“Front seat.”
“Why? It’s not like you can see anything.”
If a tortoise could shoot a person a devastating glare, Doug would have been dead several times over by this point.
“Fine.”
Doug set Tim on the front passenger seat and clipped the seat belt sort of around and underneath him. Safety first and all that.
“Where are we heading?” Tim asked.
“Lonely Mine Shopping Center.”
“That’s where Schoenhut was found?”
Doug kept forgetting that Tim had heard and understood everything he and Nick talked about in the hotel room.
