“Is this road trip under serious consideration?”
“Yeah, Gus, but I’ll need to heal my head wound a bit before it can happen. My publisher may rush me to appear in public to herald the new book I’m writing though, and to do signings. The new one I loosely based on our cross country adventures, ‘Caribbean Contract’, has been on the New York Times Bestseller List for six weeks now. I’ve opted for the mysterious reclusive author in the past, avoiding the book signings when I could because of my day job. We need to do some traveling in order to let things cool down here at home after today’s adventure.”
“I’ll have to decide whether to contact the small number of family still living back East. I was an only child. My folks passed away when I was in college. I’ve called my Mom’s sister, Jane. She wasn’t enthused about meeting with me again when Jean and I came out of the Witness Protection Program. I didn’t attempt to call any old friends. I’m certain they’d be leery rekindling any friendships after the Hayden Tanus fiasco.”
“Jean’s Dad had some family didn’t he?”
“His Mom and Sister are still alive, but they live in South Carolina. I hope to take Jean down there one day soon. She needs to see Rick’s Mom again. It’s important for her to spend time with her Grandma at least.”
“I’d like that,” Jean said. “I had a great time with her when we visited a couple years ago before things got bad.”
“It’s settled then,” Nick announced, starting on his second refreshment. “Where in South Carolina does she live?”
“Charleston.”
Nick smiled. “I did a book signing at the Barnes & Noble bookstore there when my first novel ‘Diego’s Way’ went bestseller. Cassie will be so pleased to get me on the road, she’ll be willing to book me in anywhere I want. She’ll be happy to meet the family too. I lucked out with Cassie Sedwick. She’s the only agent that was remotely interested in a cold blooded assassin novel. I’ve stuck with her, because she’s always been satisfied with cashing her check, and leaving me the hell alone. I think the Publisher, and that hack editor Linda, have been pressuring her to get me on the road. That pressure will boil over now.”
“There sure are a lot of women in the publishing business,” Jean observed. “It would make a great cover.”
“Great cover for what?” Rachel shook Jean’s shoulder.
“For Jean the Assassin.” Jean giggled at her Mom’s look of white faced horror.
Rachel turned slowly on the inwardly stunned Nick. “What the hell is this Jean the Assassin tag? Is this some kind of bad joke?”
“Hey… listen you, I’m not the one feeding wine coolers to a nine year old,” Nick countered. “She gets giddy, shoots her mouth off about something out of left field, and suddenly it’s a plot of my making. I don’t think so, woman.”
“Sorry, Nick… she nailed me again.” Rachel grabbed Jean’s ponytail in a death grip. Jean yelped as her face to face with Rachel turned into nose to nose. “That better have been a tipsy, goofball remark, girl.”
“It…it was, Mom. Sorry.”
Rachel released her. “Like Nick says, it’s my fault for letting you have the wine cooler. Don’t ever make a joke like that again. It’s not even remotely funny, Jean.”
Jean’s facial features flowed into a look of determination. “I won’t ever mention anything like that again. I’m sorry I upset you.”
Rachel hugged her. “Apology accepted. You did a number on your poor old Mom with that line. Nick’s always urging you to try your hand at writing. He can help you in a big way. I know he’s made money in other ways, but his writing career is hitting the stratosphere. You would get to travel, and be as much of a celebrity as you want.”
Pushed to arm’s length, Jean smiled and nodded. “I’m already working on a short story. Nick taught me how to format it in Word like professional writers do.”
“You are? That’s wonderful. What’s it about?”
“Well,” Jean started out, standing with hand gestures as if excited to explain her story. “The plot involves this Mom who fills her daughter with wine coolers, and then lays guilt trips on her when she turns into an alcoholic.”
Jean ran for the door with Deke nipping at her heels, and Rachel only a few steps behind. Seeing she had no chance, Rachel pointed at the two men howling in fits of laughter helplessly. “I’m going down to get another bottle of wine, and probably beat my daughter senseless. Is there anything you two cretins would like while I’m down there?”
Weak, sputtering negatives were all Rachel received for replies. “Very well. Damn it! Rick had a genius IQ. I guess he passed that gene to Jean, where she will use it to torture me on his behalf forever. I will be back.”