Page 10 of In the Nick of Time
“Do you have to argue with everything I say? Is it because I’m younger than you?” Nick demanded.
“What?”
“Pedal to the metal, big guy.”
If Swanson didn’t listen to him, they were going to lose the less-than-a-minute advantage Nick had been able to give them. But also, Nick wasn’t surprised. Most people ignored what he had to say.
Remarkably, the Pontiac started moving faster. Speeding down the street, passing slower moving vehicles, and—“Watch out for the lady with the stroller!” Nick yelled—missing the woman and the stroller.
He saw Swanson glance quickly in the rearview mirror. Nick checked the side mirror. A few blocks behind them, two police cars had pulled into the street.
“Huh,” Swanson grunted as he stomped harder on the gas pedal and they zoomed ahead.
“You do realize that my car is kind of noticeable,” Nick pointed out. “Maybe beating the cops was a bad idea.”
“In this type of situation, arriving before the local authorities is always a good idea.”
FOUR
DOUG
Road-trip or road-kill? A lost work by Wm. Shakespeare.
Assignment.Missing agents. Last known location: Las Vegas, NV.
A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach had Doug wishing he kept antacids at hand.
No pressure. Find the agents, dead or alive. Preferably alive.
At least one was an agent he’d personally trained and signed off on as fit for field duty. What the fuck was going on? Or was he finding drama where there was none? Agents went into dangerous situations all the time. Usually, they returned. Sometimes they didn’t.
Sighing, Doug slid his phone back into his car’s cup holder.
The very-close-but-avoided debacle at the mall had been interesting. The whole thing had been a test, of course—Thank you for that, April—to see if Nick Sedgewick really could do what SPAM suspected.
The kid could turn back time. Just a little, it appeared, and Nick didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. But it was. They’dbeen able to get inside the chain bookstore before the local police. Doug had been able to whisk Rodney the Rodent away from the scene and take him to the SPAM agents waiting in a black SUV.
Rodney was ex-SPAM, which said a lot—or a little, depending on how a person thought about it. Unlike Doug, Rodney hadn’t retired. He’d been escorted off the SPAM premises months ago. That had gone down in Seattle, but Doug had been on the sidelines, and when Rodney moved south, SPAM had been concerned enough to keep an eye on him.
“What happened back there?” Nick asked, looking a tad bewildered.
“We sort of saved the day. That’s what SPAM does.”
“Okaaaay,” Nick said skeptically. “Who was that guy?”
With any luck, Rodney would get the help he needed this time, not just be released back into the general population. Doug chose to ignore Nick’s question. There was only so much the kid could take in a day. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard and saw it was about time to head home.
“We have an assignment, starting tomorrow. Pack some clothes. Bring the suit you’re wearing now. Maybe don’t bring the turtle.”
“Don’t bring Tim? What am I supposed to do with him? Just leave him to starve?”
“Maybe put him back where you found him?” Doug suggested.
“The parking lot?” Nick’s voice rose in indignation. “I’m not heartless.”
Thelike you arewas not spoken out loud but heavily implied.
“Look, Sedgewick. We have an assignment, starting tomorrow. In Las Vegas. I don’t fly. Not in airplanes, not in any other way. We need to be on the road at oh seven hundred. Do not be late.”
