“Sure he is. I’m getting him a mustache and different plastic noses, and ears. He’ll learn how to deal with pain too. Those things will probably hurt when we slam them into place.”
Nick tried to hold onto a look of outraged horror, but lost control in seconds. After many moments, he finally said something decipherable. “You do know if you repeat anything you just said in front of your Mom, the police will be dredging the water for your body, right?”
“I know. The Momster has no sense of humor right now… absolutely none. Did you forget something when planning to escape with us to a safe-house?”
Nick sighed. “No, I didn’t forget about volunteering to chaperone your dance on Friday. Despite multiple attempts on my life, and bombs attached to my house, I know better than to use my real life danger to wiggle out of your dance.”
“Good. Just checking. Sonny is going to be there. I’ll make him dance with me. He says he can’t dance, but I remembered your story. He’s not escaping to the wall of shame like you did.”
“Playing hard to get, huh?”
“I can’t let him become a hopeless wallflower like you. In any case, you have to take care of business before Friday.”
“You do know today is Wednesday, right?”
“Yep. Get busy.” Jean crossed her arms, leaning against the seat. “Wow, look at all the people and yellow tape. I’m beginning to lose hope for my dance.”
“Don’t give up hope yet, Dagger. I’ll be working on solutions the moment I get you, Deke, and the Momster into the Valley house with John. My friend at CIA is looking into this personally for me, and I haven’t begun to check on the threads I’ve already found.” Nick drove around the block, opened the garage remotely, and drove inside.
“Stay here for a moment while I talk with these approaching suits.”
“Okay, Dad.”
Nick met Dickerson and the two men he figured were federal agents with his hands in plain sight. He held out his hand. “I’m Nick McCarty. Sergeant Dickerson was kind enough to allow me to bring my daughter Jean home from school.”
Each of the men shook his hand, and produced FBI/Homeland Security ID’s. “I’m Special Agent Glen Rogers,” the dark haired man nearest Dickerson said. “This is my partner, Special Agent Jarrod Agnew. We have orders to leave you out of this investigation, but to keep you informed of any progress on the case.”
Agnew chuckled. “The orders came from so high up, we weren’t even allowed to ask why. Maybe you could give us a hint.”
“I believe it’s because of a case I’m consulting on. We don’t know what involvement the Rashidi’s or the fake agents who tried to kill me had with the case yet, but we’re working on it. If you give me your cards, I’ll contact you with anything I’m allowed to divulge during my research into this. Here’s my card.”
Nick handed them one of his cards with mobile phone number, and accepted theirs. “May I get my family ready to move to another location?”
“Yes, of course… one other thing” Rogers said. “We know you were with Delta, but we can’t access anything in your record other than that, and a vague note about being a consultant. I’ve read your novels, so I also know you’re a bestselling author. What the hell would guys be blowing your house up, and gunning for you in broad daylight about.”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out, gentlemen. If I find a definitive answer, I will pass it on to my chain of command, and if they give me permission, I will call you right away. Thanks for reading my novels, Agent Rogers. Are you a fan of my character, Diego?”
“Yeah, it’s entertaining pulp. There’s not much realism, but I’ve read some of the replies you’ve made to people you call ‘Book Killers’ because they do one star hit pieces on novels when it is clear they haven’t read them. You admit they’re pulp.”
“Most of the BK’s are funny. They change tactics the moment they’re called on a false accusation they make about the novel they’re doing a book killing on. I’ve often wondered if other readers can tell.”
“I can now, but until I read a few of the ones you confronted, I don’t know if I would have noticed. That’s neat the way you have me talking about your novels, and away from the subject of the investigation.”
“I don’t know anything more about the why in your investigation. If I find something I can share, I will. Sorry if that’s repetitive, but that’s all I have for now.”
“I hope you get a call allowing us some answers,” Agnew replied. “The Rashidis are not talking. They were caught red handed though, and we are charging them with multiple felonies, including domestic terrorism. Please call us if you can.”
“Will do.” Nick noted Dickerson did not walk away. “Trouble, Neil?”