“And the second way?” Chelsea asked.
Zoelner shrugged. “We follow him and see what or who he has in mind for the dangerous end of that boom stick.”
“Speaking of the first way…” Chelsea said, downing the last of her wine. There was a part of Dan, the thirsty part, that watched the final ruby-red drop disappear. She rummaged around in her giant purse until she located her phone. “Let’s check with your favorite in-house computer geek and see what he’s come up with.”
They all waited expectantly while she made the call. There were a lot of “yeah, okays” happening on her end. At one point, she glanced up at Dan, making a slightly startled, slightly considering face—which was a concern. Then she signed off, laid her phone atop the table, and folded her hands in front of her.
“Well?” Zoelner asked impatiently when she didn’t immediately begin filling them in.
“Yeah,” Dan added, more than a little impatient himself. “What Zoelner said. Well?”
Although, in truth, impatience was a secondary emotion, considering Penni’s warmth and rosewater smell reached out to taunt him, reminding him that even though emotionally she’d pulled away, she was still physically very, very close. Too damn close. Close enough to touch. Close enough to kiss if he leaned over just a scant few inches.
Chelsea cleared her throat and shoved her black Buddy Holly–style glasses up her nose before sliding her phone back into her ginormous purse. “Ozzie was able to find out which room Kozlov is staying in even though, apparently, he was using an alias.” She lifted her eyebrows meaningfully. If they needed a second reason, besides the T/C Contender, to suspect Kozlov was in Cusco on nefarious business, registering under a false name was it. “As chance would have it,” she continued, “the suite next door was vacant. Ozzie booked the room under Penni’s name, using Penni’s passport number.”
Chelsea let her eyes swing back and forth between Dan and Penni. “He also, er…” She had the grace to scrunch up her nose. “Well, he checked Penni out of the other hotel. Her bag is waiting at the bellman’s station for her to pick up.”
“What?” Penni choked at the same time Dan muttered, “Sonofabitch.”
Besides being their in-house computer geek, Ozzie was also their in-house matchmaker. And he’d been trying to get Dan together with Penni since Malaysia. In fact, it’d been Ozzie who’d insisted Dan go up to her in the bar that night before the bombings. It’d been Ozzie who’d shoved him out on the dance floor with her. And it’d been Ozzie who’d tucked the condom in Dan’s pocket—the one he never got the chance to use. Apparently, the asshole was still attempting to play the part of Cupid, even from nearly four thousand miles away. Determined to keep Penni in the middle of their operation whether she wanted to be there or not.
“Sorry.” Chelsea winced. “But, you know, maybe this is for the best.”
“How do you figure?” Dan demanded, sliding Penni a glance he hoped conveyed two things. One, I’m sorry. And two, Ozzie is a no-good, interfering, grade-A douche nozzle.
To his surprise, Penni reached over and squeezed his thigh. But just when he’d begun to think maybe he was imagining her emotional retreat, she hastily removed her hand, brushing a finger over the bridge of her nose.
Annnnd, so much for wishful thinking. Then, sonofabastard! There it is again!
The sensation of his skin trying to crawl off the back of his neck was becoming as familiar as it was annoying. He turned in his seat, scanning the restaurant and bar. Nothing but tourists and the locals who were serving them and—
Wait a minute… Did he recognize the guy in the brown flat cap over at the bar? The hat was the kind golfers and hipsters liked to wear, and surely was not all that common in Cusco. He narrowed his eyes, studying the man’s profile, but save for a bit of beard stubble and a receding chin, there wasn’t much to see. Then another man walked by wearing an almost identical cap, and Dan shook his head.
So much for “not all that common in Cusco.” Man, he was losing it.
“It means she has to stay in the suite if she wants a soft place to lay her head tonight,” Chelsea said. Dan swung back around, rubbing a hand over his neck. “And since you’re our resident jack-of-all-trades gear-wise”—she hauled the backpack out from under the table and handed it to him—“you need to be in the suite too. Which will be the perfect opportunity for you two to discuss…uh…whatever it is you two need to discuss. Just as long as you remember to turn off your mic this time.” She glanced pointedly at the top button on the jacket he had draped over the back of his chair. “We’ll stay in touch by cell.”