Love, Lattes and Danger. Sandra CoxЧитать онлайн книгу.
than a nineteen-year-old. I was damn lucky.
After what seems an inordinately long time, I make it to the deck. Leif is pacing impatiently. Amy stands with her head down, twirling a lock of her hair. As if sensing me, she glances up. A smile spreads across her face and lights her eyes.
Concern ripples through me. Her complexion is pasty. Slashes of purple emphasize her beautiful turquoise eyes. How much blood did she give me anyway?
She runs to me and throws her arms around me. “Joel, you almost died. You almost died.” I feel the leak of moisture against my neck.
I hug her back. “You saved me. I wouldn’t have made it without your donation. You gave me the gift that just keeps on giving.” She grins. I push her back and hold her by her shoulders. “How many pints did you give me anyway?”
She shrugs. “It doesn’t matter.”
“That’s not good.”
“Let’s go. It wasn’t five but it didn’t take you ten either.” Leif’s voice booms over the noise of the chopper.
He climbs in the front. We haul ourselves into the back. I make sure the latch on the door has caught and is secured.
The pilot looks back at me and smiles. It’s the man who saved me. He’s young, probably not much older than me. “You’re looking better than the last time I saw you.”
I hold out my hand. “Thanks to you.”
He shakes it. “Glad things worked out.”
Amy talks when she’s nervous. In a low voice, so as not to disturb the pilot or Leif, she chatters through the entire flight. Once we touch down, we hail a taxi and drive through Houston. Twenty minutes later, we pull up in front of a five-story, glass-and-steel apartment complex.
A doorman ushers us in. “Good to see you again, Mr. Voorhees.”
“And you, Sam. This is my nephew and niece, Joel and Amy Eisler.” Eisler is my mother’s maiden name and the one both Amy and I use.
“Mr. Eisler. Ms. Eisler.”
“Please call me Amy.” My sister gives him her sweet smile. He looks bedazzled.
“Ms. Amy.” He nods.
“Joel.” I lift a hand in greeting.
“Mr. Joel.”
The doorman pushes a button and the elevator doors open. Soon, we’re rocketing up to the fourth floor, where Leif walks us to our suite. “I’m down the hall. I have a permanent apartment. The big dogs are up on five.”
“You’re a big dog. Why aren’t you on five?” I tease.
He just snorts. “I’ll probably be heading back out tonight. There’s a cafeteria on first. Order whatever you want. They have room service.” He hands us keys.
“If you don’t mind my asking, why keys instead of cards? Everything else seems to be modernized.”
He laughs. “One of the execs had problems with his key card two nights in a row. A week later, they were all changed out. Expensive as hell, but not my call. Get some rest.” He nods and leaves.
The apartment is spacious and well appointed. From the doorway, we can see a gleaming kitchen and large great room, with a wall-sized entertainment center. After we walk through all the rooms, Amy and I look at each other. “Weird.” We both say at the same time then burst into laughter.
“A little different from the cot in the bowels of the ship, huh?” I run my hand over a bronzed statue of a stallion sitting on the coffee table in the great room.
“Yeah. Pretty sweet digs.”
“No shi—” I catch myself.
Just then my stomach rumbles. “Let’s order something to eat. I’m starving.”
She looks me up and down. “I’m not surprised. You’ve dropped a lot of weight and you didn’t have any to spare to begin with.”
“Look who’s talking. How many pints of blood are you down?”
She waves a dismissive hand. “Now that you mention it, I’m hungry too.”
“Pizza?” I wiggle my eyebrows.
“Oh yeah.”
I call in the order. While we’re waiting, I check out the fridge. It’s stocked. I pull out sodas and find snacks in the cabinets. I pour us both Cokes, throw Amy a bag of chips, and take another for myself. We go into the living room, sink into the overstuffed couch, and put our feet up.
“What now?” The bag crackles as Amy rips it open.
I glance around uneasily. Surely the place isn’t bugged. Just in case, I rattle the chips as I talk. “We need to get the hell out of here. I need to get hold of Piper and tell her what’s going on then get the baby.”
“What about the jammers?” she whispers back. “I managed to snag a couple of watches and a mini-circuit mixer. I figure you can put them together, but I don’t know what to do about waterproofing them.”
“Wow, Amy. You’re amazing. I feel bad suggesting it after you went to all that trouble, but maybe we should just find an electronics shop and buy some that are already waterproofed.”
“How would we pay for them?”
The doorbell rings. I push myself off the sofa and open the door.
“Room service.” A young girl who looks to be Amy’s age hands me a pizza.
“Thanks.”
The smells wafting from the cardboard box nearly bring me to my knees.
I put it on the coffee table and we dig in.
Amy turns on the remote. “God, pizza and television. Do you realize we haven’t see TV in over eight months? Since we were sold from the lab.”
“I sure do.”
While Amy is sating herself with TV and pizza, I get up and roam around the apartment, thinking. Finally, I say, “I think we are going to have to borrow the capital from the company.”
Chapter 6
“You mean steal it?” Her mouth drops open and her eyebrows shoot up.
“I prefer to think of it as collecting back pay for wages.”
“Yeah, but I think the collecting of those wages could get us thrown in jail.”
“Leif wouldn’t let that happen.” I hope.
“If Leif finds out, it’ll be a non-issue. He’ll kill us.” She shoves a piece of pizza in her mouth.
“I wish there was some way I could shake down Craven. My conscience would be clear on that score.”
She swallows. “Yeah.”
“Would you rather go with the homemade device?”
“How do we waterproof them?”
“Good point. I’m going down to the bar to cozy up to the bartender and see if I can get a list of who’s who in the apartment complex.”
“More like you’ll be cozying up to the barmaid.”
“Oh ye of little faith.”
“Oh, I have faith in you alright.” She gives me an impudent smile and winks.
“Watch it, you.” I give her a fake growl. “Save me some pizza. I won’t be gone long.”
I go downstairs, saunter into the bar and hoist myself on a barstool then help myself to peanuts. “Beer?” The bartender wipes down the spotless counter with a damp white rag.
“Just a Coke.”