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“You have any plans for tonight?”
“I was going to get another tattoo. Why?”
That threw him, but he continued now that he’d begun his pitch. “Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about heading into Old Town and grabbing a beer at a new microbrewery that opened up. I read about it online. It’s supposed to have awesome pizza.”
“I don’t eat carbs or dairy or drink alcohol,” Kendra said and then offered a grin. “I’ve always wondered what I would sound like saying that. I’ve heard it so many times it makes my head want to explode. Now I know.” Pete looked confused and Kendra sighed. “It’s a little humor, Pete. I love pizza and beer. What red-blooded American girl could resist an offer like that?”
“So no tattoo?” he asked, relieved and happy she’d accepted his invitation.
“Depends on how many beers I have. You buying?”
“First round’s on me.”
She clicked her mouse on an icon and shut down her computer, then stood and slid the shoulder strap of her slim purse over her head. “There. I travel light. Two cars or one?”
“That’s up to you. I don’t mind dropping you off later if you only want to take one.”
“Sounds like a deal. Lead the way. I’m actually starving—I kind of forgot to eat lunch today.”
“I thought I was the only one who did that around here.”
“Like minds think alike.”
As they walked to the door Kendra held up a finger and mouthed the name “Selma,” and then she moved across the darkened floor to Selma’s door. Seeing light beneath it, she rapped lightly on the heavy wood. Zoltán let out a protective bark from inside and then Selma cracked the door open and smiled when she saw Kendra.
“I’m just heading out of here, Selma,” Kendra explained. “Do you need me to get you anything in the morning on my way in?”
Selma shook her head. “No, darling, thank you. I’m fine. Have a good night. And remember to set the alarm when you leave.”
“I will. Are you managing any better?”
“Isn’t there an expression? ‘That which does not kill us . . .’”
“Nietzsche had a way with words, didn’t he?” Kendra said with a smile.
“He did indeed. You take care of yourself,” Selma said, then spotted movement in the shadows. “Oh, Pete. You still here?”
“Yes, Selma. I was just walking Kendra out.”
Selma gave Kendra a knowing glance before her face assumed its customary neutral expression. “That’s very chivalrous of you. All right, then, it’s time for this old lady to hit the sack. You kids have a nice time.”
Kendra leaned forward and gave her a light kiss on the cheek. “Take care and sleep well.”
MEXICO CITY, MEXICO
Janus
Benedict fought to control the simmering rage that was threatening to explode as he watched Reginald’s smug face describe his nocturnal tomb raid. Reginald was high on more than adrenaline, Janus thought, as well as excited at having made off with the treasure under Sam’s and Remi’s noses.
Reginald’s self-preservation instinct kicked in toward the latter part of his account as he registered the flat look in Janus’s eyes—a look he knew well, even if he didn’t understand why his brother wasn’t happy at the news.
When he finished, Janus stared at the ornate ceiling of the Mexico City villa he’d rented for the week, lost in thought.
“Well, aren’t you going to say anything?” Reginald demanded. “We got the treasure.”
“Quite. But let’s expand on that a little. You orchestrated and participated in a night attack on a historical location with members of the Los Zetas cartel and slaughtered a dozen soldiers in the process?”
“Yes, I told you. But we got away clean.”
