Page 10 of A Touch of Frost
When the call was over, I tried relaxing and enjoying my time on board the aircraft carrier. But failed since I kept an eye on Jesse and his mind was elsewhere.
I couldn’t say I blamed him.
The next morning Black Widow saw us off but not before reminding me of my promise to her. I kissed her cheek.
“This time is going to be different.” I told her.
Then climbed into the helicopter after Jesse.
By the time we arrived in Montenegro again, and my phone gained signal, a call from Tex came through almost immediately.
“Good, you’re back.” Tex didn’t even say hello. “Listen, there’s a race happenin’ in Montenegro this weekend. I called in a few favours and they told me there is only one Pontiac GTO in it—dark purple, giant skull on the hood…”
“Sounds familiar.” I grumbled.
“Driven by a pretty red head…” Tex continued. “They say she donates part of her winnings to charities.”
I looked over at Jesse.
“Did they find her?” Jesse asked.
“We think so.” I grabbed a pen and began scribbling down information from Tex. “We’re gonna grab something to eat then get in the car. I’ll let you know what I find.”
“I’m trying to track the vehicle but no luck.” Tex didn’t sound impressed. “This woman is really testing my self-esteem.”
I chuckled. “I’ll be sure to tell her that.”
Tex muttered a profanity under his breath. “I’m sending you hotel info now. Happy huntin’.”
Chapter 3
Frost
I sat in the dimly lit bar, wondering for the hundredth time how I wound up there. It seemed I always ended up back in some hovel. I supposed at some point along the way, they’d become like home.
The noise around me had become a useless hum, like dysfunctional parents arguing. After a while, it just became something that was easily ignored, a rumble that blended into the world turning.
It may be chaos to others but meditation to me.
I tossed back another shot of tequila, dropped the glass upside down on the bar and tapped it with a nail.
“Give me another,” I said.
“Frost…”
I impatiently tapped the bottom of the glass with my nail again.
The bartender turned it over, filled it again and I tossed it back.
This time when I turned it upside down, I left it that way.
The chatter around me grew even dimmer but there was a shift in the air. After so many years being a patron to back-wood bars, I’d become somewhat of an expert when things were about to pop-off.
Irritated, I dropped money on the counter, offered the bartender a mock salute then headed for the door. I was barely out before the first glass bottle smashed into the wall.
Outside, the temperature had cooled down a little. Over the last few days, it had rained on and off, a little more than normal. As I looked up at the sky, I realized it had began raining again.
I pulled my hood over my head. Each step toward my sports car, I knew something was different.
