Black Pawn (Michael Cailen Book 1) Read online

  “Nice place,” she said sarcastically.

  “No cameras,” he replied. “Sizes?”

  “You want to write them down?” she asked.

  “Nope, just tell me. I'll remember.” And he would. On missions, it was critical he remember even the tiniest of details. He couldn't exactly carry a notebook to refer to. Jessica rattled off shirt and pant sizes.

  “Underwear? Bra?” he asked as he stared at the entrance of the store. He purposefully didn't look at her, knowing she would be uncomfortable telling him what size underwear she wore.

  She sat for a minute wondering if she could make do without them. She really didn't want him buying her underwear.

  He looked at her with a raised brow, “You do want clean underwear, don't you?” He glanced down at her chest. “And bra?”

  Point taken, she thought as she crossed her arms over her chest. She blurted her bra and underwear sizes and looked away.

  “I'll be right back.” He grinned as he got out.

  Since she wasn't coming in to try things on, Michael figured he'd be safer buying something with an elastic waist, rather than jeans or slacks. He went through the athletic section and found a pair of black workout pants that he imagined might look rather good on her. He picked up a plain red long-sleeve shirt and a black hooded sweatshirt in case she got cold. He grabbed a package of white athletic socks and then moved on to the trickier bra and underwear section.

  He looked at the racks and racks of bras and knew he was out of his league. He knew not all bras were comfortable. His ex had complained incessantly if she wore one that wasn't comfortable. It's too itchy, the straps keep falling down, it won't stay put. He really didn't want to deal with that. He decided he'd just suck it up and ask for help. He'd been in some of the most dangerous combat zones on the planet and he was breaking a sweat buying a bra?

  He sought help from a girl who was sorting unwanted clothes from the fitting rooms. “Excuse me,” he said softly “I think I'm in over my head.”

  She looked up at him and gave him a wide smile. My, he's handsome, she thought. “What can I help you with?”

  “Can you direct me to a bra that's comfortable? It's not for me.” He didn't know why he said that, of course it wasn't for him. He felt like such a dork.

  She laughed, “Sure, I can help you with that.”

  She lead him down to a rack and stated, “This is probably the most comfortable brand we carry.” They looked like they could belong to his grandmother. He wondered what Jessica would think if he bought her that.

  “Umm ... What's the next one down?” he said.

  God, he's cute, she thought. Her smile was huge. All he saw was teeth.

  “That would be these.” she said as she pointed to another rack. Those looked much better. Not grandma, but not stripper.

  “Perfect. Thanks.” he said.

  “No problem. If you need me again, I'll be right over there.” she said through her enormous smile.

  He grabbed one of the bras in Jessica's size and then walked to the panty section. There was the Plain Jane underwear he saw in her drawer. He picked up a bag in her size, but then spotted some silk thongs. A mischievous grin crossed his face.

  He paid for the items and walked back out to the truck. As he got closer, he could see Jessica with her head resting on the door and her eyes closed. She was probably exhausted. She'd been through a lot over the past few days. She was startled when the door opened. He handed her the bag and started up the truck. She opened it and looked through the items.

  “What the hell?!” she exclaimed as she looked up at him.

  Michael was grinning from ear to ear. He kept looking forward. He was afraid to look at her, but couldn't get the smirk off his face.

  “You call this underwear?” She wasn't amused.

  “What?” he asked, feigning ignorance. “I thought that's what you girls wore?” The huge smile on his face betrayed the fact that he knew better.

  “Nice.” She shook her head and shoved the silk thong back in the bag. “Next time, I go in with you.”

  “That's probably a good idea,” he agreed, trying not to laugh.

  She looked out the window shaking her head. As the seconds passed she found herself restraining a smile. It was funny, but she didn't want him to know. He glanced at her and could tell she was holding back a grin.

  He pulled into the parking lot of a drug store. It too looked a mess.

  “You're not going to rob them, are you?” she asked, remembering the bottle of Vicodin.

  “No. But you do need a few things. Toothbrush, deodorant. Tell me what you need, and if they have it, I'll get it.”

  She gave him a list of basic toiletries, but also asked for a hair dryer and curling iron. Ten minutes later he emerged with a couple of bags. He threw them on the back seat and climbed in the truck.

  “Is there anything you want to do before we go back?” he asked.

  “I think I'd really just like to have a shower now.”

  “Sure thing.” He started up the truck and they headed back to the hideout that was now her new home.

  MICHAEL DUMPED the shopping bags on the futon. Jessica rifled through them moving what she needed to shower into one bag.

  “Do you need to use the bathroom before I go in?” she asked. “I plan on taking a long shower.”

  “I'm fine, you go right ahead.” He turned on the TV and sat at the edge of the futon.

  Jessica turned on the shower water so it could warm up. She hadn't showered in days and couldn't wait to hop in. She put down the lid to the toilet and sat on it while she carefully unwrapped the bandage around her ankle. She stripped off her clothes and stepped in, savoring the feel of the hot water washing over her skin. She closed her eyes and with a deep breath felt every muscle in her body relax.

  The news came on while Jessica was in the shower. Michael watched to see if there were any updates on the cafe shooting or the two men arrested on Carter Road. As he expected, there was nothing and the police were still asking for the public's help. Good luck on that, he thought.

  He heard the shower stop followed by the sound of Jessica brushing her teeth. The door opened and his heart skipped a beat when he saw her. She looked incredible in the pants and red was definitely her color. She looked relaxed and content. As she limped over towards him, it occurred to him he should check her ankle again.

  “I'd like to take another look at your ankle. And we should probably wrap it up again.”

  “Alright.” she said as she plopped down next to him.

  He gently examined her ankle. It wasn't as tender, which was a good sign.

  “It looks like it's healing well,” he stated. “In a few more days, you probably won't even need a bandage. Let me get you wrapped up.”

  He retrieved the bandage from the bathroom and wrapped her ankle once again. They then finished the leftover Chinese and watched a few hours of TV before going to bed.

  Chapter 9

  The alarm clock read 3:59 a.m. The room was dark except for a sliver of light shining through a gap in the curtains. The dead silence broke at 4:00 a.m. as the alarm clock blared an ungodly sound that could drive one to the brink of insanity if they were forced to listen to it for more than thirty seconds.

  A hand emerged from the bed and slammed down on the clock. The horrible noise ceased. A groan came from under the covers and a body rose from under the mass of sheets and blankets. It was Morgan. He swung his feet off the side of the bed and sat rubbing his eyes.

  “It's too early,” whined a female voice from the other side of the bed.

  “Tell me about it,” he replied. Why did he always want to meet so early? he asked himself.

  He sleepily walked into the bathroom, turned on the light and shut the door. Within a few minutes, the shower could be heard. He dressed in a plain gray suit, white shirt, and a horrendously bland red striped tie. He slipped on his black shoes and grabbed his keys as he stepped out the door.

  The
one good thing about driving in D.C. at this time of day was that traffic was light. Everyone's still in bed, he thought as he wished he was. He drove to a local park he had been to many times. He parked the car and looked around. It was still dark. He looked at his watch. It was almost 5:00 a.m. He grabbed a large yellow envelope from the passenger seat and walked down to a bench overlooking a small pond. The air was chilly. He hated these meetings. He looked to his right and slowly panned the park. He saw a shadow out of the corner of his left eye and was startled to see someone sitting next to him on the bench.

  “Jesus Christ! Do you always have to do that?” he exclaimed.

  The man didn't say a word, just looked straight ahead. He appeared to be in his forties, average height with green eyes and a full head of light brown hair. It had to be plugs, thought Morgan. What guy still has that much hair in his forties? A tinge of jealousy no doubt affected his opinion. He looked like an average guy, unassuming, harmless even. Yet he was far from that. He did things not many humans could stomach. And he did them almost gleefully. Money was what spoke to him. He didn't care what had to be done as long as it paid. Women and children weren't even off limits. He had taken out whole families without blinking. Morgan had a healthy fear of him.

  “Here's all the information you need along with the wire transfer receipt.” He handed the envelope to the mystery man. “I called you because there can't be any more mistakes. This thing has been botched to hell and I need someone who can get the job done right.”

  “I always come through,” the man said.

  “Yes, you do. We need it to be a positive ID. There can't be any doubt.”

  “I got it,” the man said, indignant at the insinuation that he might make a mistake.

  “You have one week.”

  “I only need three days.”

  “I always liked your attitude, Evan,” said Morgan.

  “I always liked your money, Ed.” Evan stood up and disappeared in the darkness.

  Morgan shuddered. He didn't know if it was the chill from the air or the eerie presence of the man who had just left.

  Chapter 10

  Michael opened his eyes, greeted by the smell of coffee. He strolled to the doorway and looked down on the futon. Jessica was lying curled up under the covers, her coffee sitting on the stand next to her.

  “How long you been up?” he asked.

  “About a half hour.”

  “You look bored,” he said as he eased his way towards the coffeemaker. “Why didn't you turn on the TV?”

  “I didn't want to wake you.”

  He smiled as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “You're sweet.”

  “What are we going to do today?” Jessica asked as Michael sat next to her on the futon.

  “Well,” He took a sip of his coffee. “We could go clothes shopping. I'm sure you would like more than one thing to wear.”

  “Yeah.” She sat up and grabbed her coffee. “Would be nice to have something to wear while doing laundry.”

  A massive grin took over Michael's face. “You don't need to do that on my account.”

  She just looked at him and rolled her eyes. “Right.”

  “Although I suppose we should get you that granny underwear you're dying for,” he teased.

  She slapped his arm. “That's not funny.”

  He laughed. “Then why are you smiling?”

  “Because you're ridiculous.”

  “You love it.” He grinned as he sipped his coffee.

  THE STORE looked just as it did the day before. With litter covering the parking lot and bars on the windows, it was not a place she would ever choose to shop. Yet here they were.

  “Shopping is more of a woman thing,” Michael said as they walked in the store. “There's a bench near the fitting rooms. I'm going to do the man thing and sit while you shop, if you don't mind.”

  “What am I getting?” she asked.

  “Whatever you want. I think the granny section is over there.” He pointed to somewhere in the store.

  She slapped his arm again, harder this time. He just laughed.

  Jessica worked her way around the store picking out clothes. After picking out a few bras, she walked over to the “granny” underwear section, as Michael had put it. She picked up a bag, held it for a minute, then put it back. She looked over at the thongs and shook her head. She had to admit they were actually pretty comfortable. Buying the thongs though would be like letting Michael win. She knew he got them just to get a rise out of her, but now she felt funny buying the plain ones after all the granny jokes. To hell with it, she grabbed a few of the thongs. Pajamas suddenly popped into her head.

  Michael got up every few minutes to check on her. He'd watch her for a few minutes, study the people shopping nearby, then return to his bench. He saw her pick up the thongs and found it rather amusing.

  He noticed a young man who looked rather out of place standing close to the bra section. He was pretending to look at some undershirts on a rack, but his eyes were focused on Jessica. Michael watched him as she started moving to the nightwear section. As she walked past, the young man pretended to be looking at the undershirts. She was focused on the clothing section she was headed to and didn't even look at him. After she was a few steps away the man turned and started walking behind her. Michael wasn't far behind, keeping his eye trained on the young man. The man looked nervous. Michael tensed as he saw the man start to approach Jessica. He was about to spring into action when the young man suddenly retreated, muttering to himself and shaking his head. Michael chuckled realizing what he was trying to do. He was trying to work up the nerve to hit on her. Michael figured he'd better nip that in the bud. He walked over to Jessica.

  “Hey hon, how's the shopping going?” he said loudly so the other man could hear. He stood beside her, wrapped his arm around her back resting his hand on her hip. He lowered his head to her ear and whispered, “You have an admirer.” He felt her body tense and a look of alarm filled her face. “Relax, he's just checking you out but I figured I'd better let him know you weren't available. How's it going so far?” he asked as he looked in the cart.

  “Fine.” She relaxed a little. “I just wanted to get something to wear to bed and then I think I'm done.”

  “You're gonna try everything on?”

  “I was going to, but now I just want to get out of here.”

  “Relax. You're fine. I've been keeping an eye on you. Try them on so you know everything fits. Leave the worrying to me.” He gave her hips a light squeeze before stepping away. He watched the young man scurry away shortly after he made his appearance. The guy took one look at Michael and ran like a scared cat. Jessica looked nervous now so he decided to stay with her.

  He reached into the cart, pulled out a pair of thongs and held them up. “This doesn't look like granny underwear,” he said with a sarcastic smile.

  She tore it from his hand and threw it back in the cart. “Don't you have something to do?” she snipped, embarrassed by the attention he was giving to her choice of undergarment.

  “Nope,” he smiled.

  He had the nicest smile. She found it hard to believe sometimes that a dangerous killer lurked behind that charming, innocent smile. His playfulness took her by surprise. He had been so cold and emotionless when he first kidnapped her, she didn't think he had a personality. But she was starting to see he had a mischievous sense of humor.

  At the checkout, as the total passed two hundred dollars, Jessica wondered how they were going to pay. It stopped just under four hundred and Michael pulled a stack of bills out of his side pocket and paid cash.

  They walked back to the truck and Michael had just put the bags on the floor of the backseat when he felt something hard press into his back.

  “Your money or your life,” a voice behind him said.

  Jessica was getting in the front passenger seat when she noticed Michael wasn't moving and then she saw someone standing behind him. She watched as he slowly raised his arms. Were th
ey being robbed? She quickly looked around, but saw no one else in the parking lot. Her heart started to race.

  “Okay,” Michael said calmly. “You can have the money.” He slowly took a step back to move away from the truck and felt the gun jab harder into his back. He could see the mugger's reflection in the back window of the SUV. He looked nervous and when he looked around to see if anyone was watching, Michael took the opening. He spun around, forcing the mugger's hand and gun into the door and delivered a roundhouse punch to his jaw. He fell to the ground stunned as Michael reached down and relieved him of his weapon.

  “Nice gun,” he said, looking down. He closed the door to the back seat and then climbed in the driver's seat, keeping the gun. Jessica jumped in the passenger's seat and they left the stupefied mugger there on the ground.

  “Never a dull moment with you, is there?” she said as she was trying to stop shaking.

  “Apparently not,” he replied. “He must have seen me pay cash and thought he'd make a quick buck.”

  “Do you always carry that much cash on you?”

  “Can't exactly use an ATM card, can I?”

  “I suppose not. What did you do? Rob a bank?”

  “Next best thing,” he grinned.

  “ATM?” she asked with one eyebrow raised.

  “Drug dealer.”

  “You robbed a drug dealer?!” Her voice raised in disbelief, as if that was somehow more absurd than him robbing a bank.

  “They're easy targets,” he explained. “They carry tons of cash and they won't report it stolen. I usually take their drugs too and drop them in a sewer just out of spite.”

  “Aren't you afraid they may spot you at some point and try to get revenge?”

  “Nah. It's lights out before they even see me. And I make sure no one else is around when I hit. It's the perfect crime.” He smiled at her. “And I don't feel bad if I end up having to kill one,” he added.