A Dangerous Man (Elvis Cole and Joe Pike #18) - Robert Crais Page 0,1
her modest salary wasn’t enough to keep it.
Isabel closed her eyes.
Why did you have to die?
Abigail George touched her arm, startling her. Abigail was the assistant branch manager.
“I need you to take an early lunch. Break at eleven, okay?”
Isabel had punched in at nine. It was now only ten forty-one, and Izzy had eaten an Egg McMuffin and hash browns on her way into work. She felt like a bloated whale.
“But it’s almost eleven now. I just ate.”
Abigail smiled at Mr. Ahbuti, and lowered her voice.
“Clark has to leave early. The baby again.”
They both glanced at Clark. His baby had come early, and his wife wasn’t doing so well.
Abigail shrugged apologetically.
“I’m sorry. Eleven, okay? Please?”
Abigail squeezed her arm, and hurried away.
Isabel gave Mr. Ahbuti his cash, and called for the next customer when Dana hissed from the adjoining station.
“Iz.”
Dana tipped her head toward the door and mouthed the words.
“It’s him.”
Ms. Kleinman reached Izzy’s window as the man joined the line. He was tall and dark, with ropey arms, a strong neck, and lean cheeks. Every time he came in, Dana went into heat.
“Iz.”
Dana finished with her customer, and whispered again.
“Studburger.”
“Stop.”
“Double meat. Extra sauce.”
“Shh!”
Ms. Kleinman made a one-hundred-dollar cash withdrawal. As Izzy processed the transaction, she snuck glances at the man. Gray sweatshirt with the sleeves cut off, faded jeans tight on his thighs, and dark glasses masking his eyes. Isabel stared at the bright red arrows tattooed high on his arms. She wanted to touch them.
Dana whispered.
“Manmeat on a stick.”
Isabel counted out twenties.
As Ms. Kleinman walked away, Dana whispered again.
“Finger lickin’ good.”
Izzy cut her off by calling the next customer.
“Next, please.”
The man was now third in line. Dana called for a customer, and the man was now second. Clark called, and the man was hers.
“Iz.”
Dana.
“Ask him out.”
“Sh!”
“You know you want to. Do it!”
Izzy said, “Next, please.”
Dana hissed, “Do it!”
When he reached her window, Izzy smiled brightly.
“Good morning. How may I help you?”
He laid out three checks and a deposit slip. Two of the checks were made payable to Joe Pike, and the third to cash. They totaled a considerable amount.
Joe Pike said, “For deposit.”
“You’re Mr. Pike?”
She knew his name, and he probably knew she knew. He came in every three or four weeks.
“I’ve helped you before.”
He nodded, but offered no other response. He didn’t seem friendly or unfriendly. He didn’t seem interested or uninterested. She couldn’t read his expression.
Isabel fed the checks through a scanner. She wanted to say something clever, but felt stupid and awkward.
“And how’s your day so far?”
“Good.”
“It’s such a pretty day, and here I am stuck in the bank.”
Pike nodded.
“You’re so tan, I’ll bet you’re outside a lot.”
“Some.”
Nods and one-word answers. He clearly wasn’t interested. Isabel entered the transaction into her terminal, and gave him the deposit receipt.
The man said, “Thank you.”
He walked away, and Isabel felt embarrassed, as if his lack of interest proved she was worthless.
“Iz!”
Dana leered across the divider.
“I saw you talking!”
“He thanked me. Saying thanks isn’t talking.”
“He never talks. He thinks you’re hot.”
“He didn’t even see me.”
“Shut up! He wants you!”
If only.
Isabel wondered if she could scrape together two hundred dollars for a new garden timer.
She glanced at her watch. Ten fifty-two. Eight minutes from a lunch she didn’t want, and an event that would change her life.
2.
Karbo and Bender
Karbo and Bender missed her at home by ten minutes. Materials found inside gave them her place of employment, so now they waited at a meter six blocks from a bank near the Miracle Mile.
Karbo slumped in the passenger seat, sipping a café mocha.
“Ever kidnap anyone?”
Bender glanced away. Bender was the driver. Karbo was the smile. They had worked for Hicks before, but never together. Karbo and Bender met for the first time at four that morning outside a strip mall in Burbank. They would part in approximately two hours, and never meet again.
Karbo said, “Sorry. My mistake.”
No questions allowed. They knew what they were supposed to do, how they were supposed to do it, and what was expected. Hicks prepped his people.
Bender gestured behind them.
“Here he comes.”
Karbo lowered his window.
Hicks was a hard, pale dude in his forties. Nice-looking, not a giant, but broader than average. Nonthreatening, if you didn’t look close. A nasty edge lurked in his eyes, but he hid it well. Karbo and Bender were nice-looking, nonthreatening guys, too. Especially Karbo.
Hicks had come from the bank.
“She’s a teller. Figure on making the grab at lunch.”
Bender arched his eyebrows.
“Why lunch?”
“People eat lunch. Employees park in back, but with all these