Extreme Danger (McClouds & Friends #5)(79)

Hey, might as well wear the evidence of her mad folly on her body. At least that way, she wouldn’t have to make excuses to anyone for it.



“Would you sit your manic ass down for five seconds and at least pretend to give a f*ck about what you’re doing?” Seth Mackey said testily. “Weren’t you supposed to lie in wait for that sicko *?”

Nick looked over at the door where Seth was lounging, taken aback. “Huh? Yeah, sure. I was. I am. So what’s your problem?”

“You,” Seth said shortly. “You are my problem. That shit-eating grin on your face. You’re pacing, dude. Jiggling your car keys, f*cking around with your cell phone, bouncing off the walls. Yesterday you were the Zombie King. Now you’re humming, for Christ’s sake! What gives?”

Nick felt his face grow hot. “So don’t watch.” Abashed, he sank down into one of the ergonomic swivel chairs the room was furnished with and peeked one last time at his cell.

“And stop fondling that damn thing,” Seth snapped. “An army of mafiya thugs could be trooping through that woman’s door, and there you are out in la la land, sex-texting your girlfriend.”

Nick’s head jerked around, but the crafty gleam in Seth’s eyes cut off his grumpy rebuttal.

“So it’s true,” Seth said triumphantly. “Listen, chump. I could resign myself to having my wife stare at your f*cking vid screens in the dead of night—when she should be resting—if you were lying on the staff couch, catching some z’s. I figure, the pathetic slob looks like he hasn’t slept in six months, give him a break. But you weren’t on that couch. You went out last night. To get laid!” Seth sounded outraged.

“Aw, f*ck off,” Nick muttered without much conviction.

But Seth was far from finished. “Having Raine work a graveyard shift on your f*cked-up project to save your sorry ass from getting shot up is one thing. But having her do it so you can waltz out of here and get your rocks off with your girlfriend is entirely another.”

“Girlfriend?” Margot, Davy’s wife, sailed into the workroom, her hugely pregnant belly preceding her. “What’s this I hear about a girlfriend?”

“Nothing,” Nick muttered. “Nobody’s goddamn business.”

“Nonsense,” Margot teased, clasping her hands beneath the heavy undercurve of her belly. The bulge was covered by eye-grabbing purple paisley knit, which clashed cheerfully with her shaggy mop of curly red hair. “It’s going to break the hearts of all our single girlfriends at the wedding tomorrow, but it does solve our seating dilemma. Erin couldn’t figure out who to seat next to you. A stacked blonde, a hottie redhead, a sultry brunette? It was driving her nuts. So what’s your girlfriend’s name?”

“Wedding?” Nick went tense, eyes widening. “What wedding?”

Margot rolled her eyes, and put her hands behind the small of her back. “Sean and Liv. Tomorrow at four P.M. Wake up, Nick. You were invited months ago. I already reserved a room for you at Three Creeks Lodge. It has a private deck with a hot tub. You’ll love it, particularly if you’ve got a girlfriend with you. Don’t even think about squirming out of this one, buddy boy.”

Nick gestured at the video screen. “Get real! I can’t walk away from this to put on a goddamn suit and eat canapés! Forget it, Margot.”

Margot snorted. “Oh, please. A psycho scumbag criminal hungry for your blood is no excuse to miss a great party. This is a McCloud wedding, after all. Having a dangerous villain at large is a tradition. It makes it all the more poignant, know what I mean?”

Nick grunted. “Poignant, my ass—”

“The food will be fabulous, the champagne will flow freely, and the Vicious Rumors are actually going to do the music as a special favor to Sean. They don’t even do weddings anymore, since they’re getting so big for their britches these days. Plus, we all get to meet your girlfriend and vet her for you,” Margot concluded brightly. “Cool! I can’t wait.”

Nick shook his head. “Raine’s going to the wedding too, right?”

“Hell, yeah. She’s in the ceremony. So’s Tam, for that matter. Tam’s the maid of honor, as always. I’m sure she’ll be pleased to see you.”

“Yeah, right.” Pleased to shoot him on sight was more like it. “I can’t leave, Margot. Somebody who speaks Ukrainian has got to—”

“I solved that.” Davy poked his head around the door, looking hugely pleased with himself. “That’s what we came over to tell you. I found a guy through an army buddy of mine. An ex-Ranger who grew up in Brighton Beach, Brooklyn. For you non-New Yorkers, that’s a neighborhood otherwise known as Little Odessa, a hotbed of Russian—”

“Thanks, Guidebook Boy,” Nick snarled. “What’s his name?”

“Alex Aaro. He’ll mind the vids for you while we guzzle champagne and dance all night. He’s driving up from Pendleton.”

“But I—”

“We’ll bring the laptops too,” Davy soothed. “There’s broadband connection at Three Creeks. You can get a direct video feed, and check on the madam in between each course. If you want to.”

“But this guy doesn’t know their faces,” Nick protested.