Yep. He liked her. And more than that, he wanted her. It was there in his face. He was letting her see it. No holds barred. And then she was dizzy for a reason that had nothing to do with the lack of O2 in the air.
She opened her mouth to tell him…well…everything when Zoelner called, “Hey, you guys!” in his best Sloth from The Goonies voice. He was ten steps in front of No Neck, waving frantically, his iPhone held out in front of him like your average, overly exuberant tourist. “Fancy meeting you here! Now, smile for the camera!”
“Smart,” she whispered when No Neck glanced up the steep steps at Zoelner. But before Zoelner could take the picture, No Neck ducked into the doorway of a convenience store. The move caused his jacket to fan out, and Penni got a good long look at the piece he was carrying in his shoulder holster. Christ on the cross!
“You think he looked up long enough for Chelsea to snap a photo?” she asked as they stopped in front of the souvenir shop located a handful of steps below the doorway of the convenience store.
Dan cocked his chin, listening to something she couldn’t hear. “Roger that. Now do as Zoelner says and smile for the camera.”
“Cheese,” she said when Dan threw an arm around her shoulders. In contrast to the cool mountain air, he was hot as a furnace. Curling into him seemed like the most natural thing. And allowing him to hold her up since her under-oxygenated muscles were complaining about the task was an added benefit.
“Got it!” Zoelner crowed the second after the flash on his iPhone blazed. Then he was skipping down the steps toward them. Penni saw No Neck exit the convenience store and continue his way up the hill. “I suspect it’s too soon to have his identity?” Zoelner murmured once he was in front of them, pantomiming showing them the photo while simultaneously listening to Chelsea’s response.
“Chels says yes it’s too soon,” Dan said for Penni’s benefit since she wasn’t wearing her own earpiece. Bless him. “His mug shot is being run through the software now.”
“Okay. So while Chelsea tries to determine just exactly who he is,” Zoelner said, still smiling, still waving his hands around like they weren’t having a really serious, supersecret conversation, “let’s follow him. See where he goes with that big gun strapped to his side.”
“That’s not a gun,” Penni grunted. “That’s the Mona Lisa of death. Did you get a good look at it?”
“A T/C Contender,” Dan said. “Rifle-like accuracy and power in a handgun. Whatever Skinhead is doing here, he wants to do it with precision and from a distance.”
Zoelner twisted his mouth and bobbed his eyebrows. “Hot damn! Maybe we’re finally on to something. You two want to keep pulling up the rear position and let me—”
“Forget about it.” Penni shook her head. “I’m done for.”
“Can’t catch her breath,” Dan explained.
“Ah.” Zoelner’s expression was concerned. But Penni didn’t know if it was for her or because No Neck was getting away.
“You two go on,” she said. “I’ll head back to my hotel once I can—”
“Fuck that,” Dan interrupted. “I’m not leaving you alone. Not when an Eastern European douche-canoe packing a T/C Contender is on the loose.”
“Awwww. You’re sweet.” But the expression she shot him said he was anything but, succinctly conveying Hey! Former Secret Service agent here! Still, a part of her was touched—in a girlie, gooey, totally undignified way. “But I can take care of myself.”
Zoelner and Dan exchanged a look. It lasted only a second and they never said a word, but somehow they’d come to an agreement because Zoelner said, “Okay. I’ll go it alone and check in should anything interesting happen.”
Penni watched him take off up the stairs, hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket. He whistled a snappy tune and stopped occasionally to peer into a shop window. You know, like a tourist would do. But all the while he closed the distance to No Neck.
“Really, Dan”—she turned back to him once Zoelner was out of earshot—“you don’t need to stay with me. I didn’t come down here to interfere with—”
“Penni DePaul.” The way he said her name made it seem like he was tasting it, rolling it around on his tongue. Since his arm was still around her—yeah, she’d noticed—it took very little effort for him to push her back until her shoulders hit the wall of the souvenir shop. Then he was bracing his hands on either side of her head, leaning in, his eyes the only spot of disparate color against the whitewashed plaster of the buildings across the street. They seemed to burn with intensity and suddenly she was hot. Suffocating. And not just because the air was thin. It felt like she was wrapped in ten layers of thick wool.
“In case I gave you the wrong impression earlier…” he growled. Mr. Growly Growlerton. “I want you to know how damn good it is to see you again.”
Chapter Three