Page 111 of Fish in a Barrel
“What are Ace and Ernie doing here?” George asked apprehensively.
“Well, you and I are going to take the SHO back to the gas station,” Jai said frankly. “It’s where the yellow car lives, and nobody will be looking for a black Jeep when they see the yellow car. Ernie and Ace are going to go to Los Angeles and pick a nice lady up from the airport in your friend’s nice Jeep.” Jai gave a very wide smile. “And you, me, and Sonny will be there to greet our lawyer friends when they get here from Sacramento.”
George blinked. “Who’s the nice lady?” he asked, confused.
“She is a lawyer too, but she has contacts at the Department of Justice. She is going to fight for your friend.”
George’s brain exploded. “Department of…?”
Jai looked wistful. “Sonny, Ace, and Ernie say she is a very good woman, but I was moving cars when she was here last, so I did not get to meet her. Anyway, Ernie says Ace will need him, because Ernie can keep the Jeep away from the police.” Jai gave a grimace. “Also, we need the Jeep. It’s really the best vehicle we have for transporting gracious women.”
“Hey!” Alba protested, and the look Jai turned toward her was, at best, besotted. At its worst, it was the look a doting big brother gave his baby sister when she was playing too.
“You are an elegant young woman,” Jai conceded. “When you have lived enough life, you too will get a car without worn upholstery and missing paint.”
Alba’s laugh was both delightedanddelightful. “You know I love my old Beatrice,” she said, gazing fondly at the minivan. “You know what I love best about her, though?”
Jai gave that smile again, the one that was all teeth. “She runs,” he said, and she laughed again.
The laugh washed over George and told him that things might not totally suck after all.
JACKSON GOTanotherAvengers’phone call right before they were about to go over the Grapevine. He’d pulled over reluctantly because Ellery, who had been making plans, covering their asses, and making arrangements for Henry to feed the cat, had demanded some sort of food-like stuff, since they’d barely remembered a granola bar for breakfast, and it was now nearly three o’clock in the afternoon.
Ellery had been understanding—to a point. Only once had he lamented the crepes he’d planned to try his hand at on their quiet Saturday off, but as the shadows had stretched long, as they tend to do in September regardless of the heat, he’d finally put his foot down.
Jackson, he’d said, could drive until his body turned to dust, but Ellery needed food.
Jackson had conceded, and as they’d stood in line at Chipotle, he’d told Ellery with a sigh, “I was really looking forward to those crepes.”
The truth was, he didn’t really know if he cared for crepes or not—the vote was still out there—but making the effort to say it was worth the glow he saw in Ellery’s brown eyes.
They’d finished eating and were on their way back onto the freeway when the phone rang, and Ellery answered, putting it on speaker. The Tank was still undergoing the massive repairs it would need after their little episode in August, and Ellery was still wearing a brace on his knee and a lightweight breathable cast in concession to the injuries he’d sustained. They were driving the new CR-V, and while Ellery was a little trepidatious—Jackson had wrecked the last two—Jackson kept up his sunny optimism. Surely the third time was the charm, right?
It may or may not have been, but the inside was still a damned sight quieter than the Tank.
“So,” Ace drawled. “We’ll be at the airport in an hour and a half. Do I have the gate right?” He repeated what Ellery had apparently been texting, and Ellery replied.
“Yes. Her itinerary says she’ll land in about two hours. I have no idea how she got a cross-country flight so quickly. It’s like her superpower.”
Jackson gave a sour grunt. “Not her only one,” he muttered, but he wasn’t sure either of them heard him.
Ellery went on. “We’re going to need her. I contacted my friends at the DA’s office in LA County, and they have no record of Amal Dara being taken into custody. This is purely ICE, and they’re known for holding people without cause for days and weeks. They’re going to need somebody with a voice banging on their door to get him out.”
“We looked up the offices and detention centers closest to the hospital,” Ace said. “I texted Jackson the number. We can meet you there but”—he sounded uncomfortable—“it’s not the greatest area. Your mom’s a classy woman. She’s gonna need us.”
Jackson felt a reluctant smile twitching at his lips. Apparently Lucy Satan had ensnared some more admirers. “Good thinking,” he said with a grin. Then, more seriously, “Where are the victims?”
“Safe,” Ace said, and Jackson wasn’t sure if he kept his words terse because he was trying not to give too much info or because he was just Ace. “We figure they’ll stay that way until we know they can go home again. We’ve got college students who are going to go check on their apartment and let us know if they’ve got people guarding the place or not.”
Jackson grunted, not sure he liked the idea of that, but he couldn’t control everybody in his orbit. “Understood. What about George?”
“Our place,” Ace told him. “Although Burton may come and take him out to their place. I got Ernie with me so I don’t run into anybody with an eye out for the Jeep.”
“Does it really work like that?” Ellery asked, doubtful.
Just as Jackson started shaking his head to not ask those questions, Ernie chirped, “I know when someone has malevolent intent,” he said. “Feels like bugs crawling up my arms and legs. No bugs, no high-speed chases. I get a little tickle, we go the other way.”
Ellery palmed his eyes. “Just… just don’t tell my mother that you’re driving a car that might or might not be considered stolen and part of the ICE investigation,” he said. “We can just… you know….”
