Gus motioned impatiently. “Will you two get in the damn Ford? I’ve had enough playing cops and robbers tonight. Let’s go sip a couple on Muerto’s balcony and call it a night.”
“Yes,” John agreed, sticking his head out the rear window. “I am starving to death too. Playing cops and robbers gave me an appetite.”
A moment later, Gus drove slowly toward Nick’s house. The fog made it impossible to see more than a few feet past the headlight beams. The fog lamps made the driving slightly less dangerous, but it was a treacherous drive. Gus breathed a sigh of relief when he parked his new Ford.
“Man, I think I’ll walk home if this fog doesn’t lift,” Gus said. “You won’t be able to go home either, John. The driving would be brutal to the Carmel Valley house.”
“John can sleep over at my place if the fog doesn’t lift,” Dan offered.
“You cannot trust me, infidel. Are you not worried I will slit your throat in the night like an Isis coward?”
Dan chuckled while roughing Deke’s head. “I’ll take my chances, throat-slitter. Wake up, Deke, we’re home. I think Deke wants a beer.”
At the mention of the word beer, Deke began bouncing around in the back until Nick opened the door. Deke streaked for Nick’s porch. Nick shook his head as he eased out of the Ford with his equipment bag. “You’ll have to wait until we get to the porch, goofy. John reminded me I promised I’d look into that supposed Isis training camp Paul mentioned yesterday. He says they have satellite footage of gunfire, and even explosions.”
“How is your friend, Mr. Gilbrech,” Dan asked as they neared Nick’s door. “It’s been a while since he contacted you. That Isis bunch killing at will overseas makes for bad press here. Who in hell would let any of them into the country to start training camps.”
“They need jobs,” John replied, which garnered much amusement from his companions. “Perhaps they are training in these camps to be short order cooks.”
“I’m glad Paul didn’t mention my going over in the sand,” Nick said, disabling his alarm system, and using his retina scanner he had installed for Rachel and Jean’s protection. “Gus can tell you. Our last jaunt over in looney land turned sour after I finished the job. We were lucky to get home, and we unknowingly brought along a couple of problems I had to sort out close to home.”
“It was bad,” Gus agreed. “Nick handled Nazari, but our CIA contact tried to have us killed. It piggy-backed with us home. I wouldn’t mind taking a look at this suspected training camp. Where the hell is it, Nick?”
“I have to establish an alibi for my meeting with Neil tomorrow. Rachel and I fixed everything up on the balcony, so let’s take the conversation there.”
Rachel met them inside the door, very far along in her pregnancy, and showing it. “Hi guys. Jean and I were on the balcony watching the fog show. How many did you kill tonight, Muerto?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Dear,” Nick replied, as his companions hid amusement in varying degrees. “We would love to join you on the balcony. I’m surprised you’re allowing Dagger to stay up tonight. Although it’s Saturday night, I figured your 10 pm curfew was still in effect.”
Rachel shrugged. “She rolled me again as usual. Without you around, Jean either blackmails me into submission, or promises something extraordinary in exchange.”
“Don’t leave us hangin’,” Gus said, as they followed Rachel upstairs with Deke already causing a commotion with the aforementioned Dagger on the balcony. “Which was it?”
“Blackmail.”
“Details,” John said, exchanging amused glances with Gus.
“Never you mind, John. What goes on in the Muerto household stays locked forever inside the minds of its inhabitants. By the way, Tina joined us, Gus. She walked over, claiming she needed to get some air, and keep the size of her ass in check… her words.”
Gus coughed to cover his snorting enjoyment of his wife’s words. “I have no comment on your quote from my lovely wife that would not lead to either my evisceration or emasculation.”
“Noted,” Rachel said. “I am glad to see you all back here safe and sound, especially your new recruit: Dan. Bait again, I’ll wager.”
“No comment,” Dan said. “I wish you were as observant of items at the Café Monte when my coffee cup is empty.”
Rachel gasped outside the door of the balcony. “Dan!”
“I call ‘em like I see ‘em, my friend.”
Rachel smiled. “Do you know why it’s unsafe to belittle servers of your food at a restaurant, Dan?”
“Uh oh.” Dan shrugged. “I need to walk more anyway. It’s Holly’s Lighthouse Café from now on for the ‘Geezer’.”
“Fine… you can keep coming to the Monte, Daniel,” Rachel stated. “Without retribution.”