Present Tense (A Parker & Coe, Love and Bullets Thriller Book 2) (10 page)

At ten minutes to four that morning, Parker and I pulled into the lot of The Strike Zone, a rundown 24-hour bowling alley in South Houston. The front of the place had one of those old animated neon signs, red and green, showing a bowling ball breaking a set of pins.

I drove as Parker sat in the darkness of the back seat, little more than a shadowy silhouette in my rearview mirror.

There were more cars in the lot than I expected to see at this time of morning—probably early risers picking up a bite to eat at the bowling alley cafe—and I pulled up next to one and parked.

"So how do you want to work this?" I asked. "Should I go in alone? Try to get him to come outside?"

"No way," Parker said.

"Well, we can't very well stroll in together. Ethan will bolt if he sees someone with me."

"I'll give you a head start, but I don't trust that guy and I don't want you making contact with him until you know I'm inside. I'll keep an eye on you the whole time."

"Okay, but don't make it obvious. He may not know what you look like, but he's no dummy."

"I'll try to pretend I've done this before."

There was an edge to Parker's voice and I had a fairly good idea what was causing it.
 

Earlier, after shaking him awake to tell him about Ethan's call, he had wanted to know why. Why would Ethan call me? Why take that risk when there was so much at stake?

I had been wondering the same thing myself, but simply shrugged. "Maybe he feels alone and I'm the only link to a time when he didn't. So, for him, that translates into trust."

It was dime store analysis, but it was all I'd had.

"Or maybe he realized he's still in love with you and thinks you feel the same. What the hell happened in that forest?"

"You can't possibly be jealous."

"Why can't I?"

"For God's sake, Parker,
nothing
happened. He's an old high school crush. That's all."

I hadn't mentioned how deep that crush was or my momentary lapse of reason in that cave. That was between me and my guilty conscience.

"You sure about that?"

"Oh, please. Would I be telling you he called me if there was anything to worry about? I didn't have to wake you up, you know."

Parker had conceded the point, but I knew he'd been stewing ever since. It was a side of him I'd never seen before and I didn't know how to feel about it. I mean, sure, it was wonderful that he cared, but was he going to act this way every time I was forced to parachute out of a plane, strapped to an old boyfriend?

Now, hearing that edge, I looked at him in the rearview mirror, just able to make out his face in the light from the parking lot. I hadn't helped matters by questioning his surveillance abilities. Especially when he had more experience than I could ever hope to gain.

"Sorry," I said. "Sometimes I forget you're more than just my shower buddy."

This brought a smile, as I hoped it would. "The best damn shower buddy you've ever had."

"I can't argue with that. My legs are still weak."

The smile grew and I knew we were good again. Whenever we fought, Parker was always looking for a reason not to be mad and all I'd had to do was give him one.

"It's almost four," I said, nodding toward the entrance to The Strike Zone. "Shall we hit the lanes?"

"Anytime you're ready. But be warned: if he tries anything, I
will
hurt him. I hope you're okay with that."

"I don't expect you to kiss him."

I reached to the seat beside me and picked up a manila envelope. I hadn't bothered to contact Ethan's forger—why would I?—but I couldn't walk in there with nothing in hand. So I'd stuffed an old, dog-eared paperback romance inside to give the envelope some heft.

Popping open my door, I said, "See you inside," then climbed out and crossed the lot to the bowling alley entrance. As I approached, the glass doors opened and a couple of cowboys ambled out, giving me the once over as they passed.

"Well, what do you know," one said to the other. "There's something on the menu looks even better than the chili. Bet she tastes better, too."

They both laughed, wink wink, nudge nudge, and I hoped Parker hadn't heard the comment because he'd surely have to teach them a lesson in respect and we couldn't afford the delay.

When I got inside, I was surprised to see that the lanes were full. Who would've thought that four a.m. bowling was a thing. Especially in Texas.
 

The thunder of the balls hitting polished pine and the clatter of the pins was almost deafening. I was immediately transported back to Orlando and the romance of that long ago summer.

Which was exactly what Ethan wanted. He
was
a master manipulator, no doubt about it.

I looked over at the service counter and remembered the giddy, unbridled happiness I felt whenever I walked through the doors of the Orange Bowl and saw him waiting on customers. When they weren't looking, he'd often turn to me and roll those brown eyes and we'd share a silent laugh.

I couldn't believe how funny he was. And cute, of course. So freaking cute.

Standing behind
this
service counter was a woman in her seventies who looked spry and feisty and happy to still be working at her age. I hoped I was looking at
me
in a few dozen years. Living your life as a sourpuss does nobody any good.

There was a bulletin board to my right with flyers for upcoming tournaments and want ads and bowling balls for sale. I stopped and pretended to read it until I saw Parker in the periphery of my eye, then felt him pass behind me and head straight to the service counter. I knew he was carrying a bowling bag and doing his best to blend in.

I turned then and scanned the room for Ethan, but saw no sign of him.

Had he decided not to show up?

Maybe he'd reconsidered his decision to trust me and found his own way out of his mess. It would certainly be the smart thing to do, considering what was about to happen.

I scanned the room again, slowly this time, letting my gaze drift past Parker, who was now laughing with the counter woman as if they were old friends. But unless Ethan was hiding in the bathroom or under a bench, he was not there.

So where was he?

I found out a few milliseconds later when I felt a presence behind me. Heat emanated off a body that was much too close to be a stranger—unless that stranger was a complete perv.

I turned sharply and he was standing there, wearing a fresh shirt and a devilish smile. For someone who was on the run he had cleaned up pretty good.

He said, "So how much do you hate me right now?"

"So much that I'm aiding and abetting a fugitive and risking the destruction of a brand new relationship."

"The boy toy? That won't last anyway."

"What makes you think that?"

"Because you're here with me instead of at home with him."

I shrugged. "I guess that's true."

"Plus, you aren't open and honest with him like you always were with me. I'll bet you didn't even tell him why I call you Pooks."

I frowned. "Do you really think that's information he needs?"

"If it were me, I'd want to know everything. The good, the bad and the ugly—although ugly isn't a word I'd associate with you. Far from it."

"Such flattery," I said. "Remind me again why I agreed to help you?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

"I'm not sure, either, Ethan. Maybe it's because you're very good at what you do. Like asking to meet me here, when you know how much that summer meant to me."

He looked around. "It does bring back memories, doesn't it? Like that time in the janitor's closet when you—"

"Stop right now or I'll leave and take this passport with me."

"I wouldn't want you to do that. In fact, I was hoping for more than a passport."

I showed him the envelope. "All the documents are here."

"No, what I meant was you. I was hoping
you'd
come with me."

I looked at him for what seemed a very long time, wondering if he was a couple pins short of a full rack.
 

He wasn't serious, was he?

"You can't possibly mean that."

"Can't I?" He moved around in front of me now, putting his back to the service desk, and took me by the shoulders. "Nobody's ever done it for me like you do, Kelsey. And I miss that. You're the last honest relationship I ever had."

"Honesty isn't your strong suit," I said.

"I mean it. Every word. What do you say? Be daring. Put a little adventure in your life."

"Like the one we just went through? No, thanks."

"What about Paris? Or Italy? Or maybe the Bahamas? We can travel the world together." He reached up and ran a finger along my jaw. "Remember all the dreams we had when we were kids? Let's make them happen. Right now."
 

Was he drunk, emotionally challenged, or just full of it? He couldn't possibly think I'd abandon my life and go with him. Here I thought he'd been playing me to help him escape the country, but he already had what he wanted, so why the continued charade?

"Come on, Kelsey, let's do this. We can start right where we left off."

I thought about that and suddenly felt
no-nonsense
Kelsey take over. "We left off with a text message," I said coldly, then reached forward and grabbed his injured side.

He yelped and jumped back and looked at me like a wounded sea otter. "What did you do that for?"

"Because she's tired of your bullshit," a voice said, then hands grabbed his shoulders and shoved him up against the bulletin board.

He grunted as Parker kicked his legs apart and started to frisk him. "Don't you move."

Ethan's face cycled through half a dozen expressions. Surprise. Shame. Anger. Betrayal. All directed at me.
 

His voice was laced with barely controlled fury. "The boy toy? You actually brought the boy toy?"

"I don't know what kind of spell you think you've got on her," Parker said, "but you'd better go back to the head shaman and get a refresher course. Maybe he'll be waiting for you in lockup."

Ethan couldn't stop staring at me. But even if he'd been telling the truth about what he felt and wanted,
no-nonsense
Kelsey didn't much care. In fact, I was happy I'd managed to beat him at his own game without once compromising my integrity.

But then Parker made a mistake.

Yes
—Parker.

As he removed a pair of cuffs from his back pocket, he took his attention from what he was doing and offered me a small, triumphant smile. And as he did, Ethan suddenly swung an elbow back, catching him on the side of the head.

It wasn't much of a blow, but it was enough to throw Parker off balance and give Ethan room to move. He spun around, planted his hands on Parker's left shoulder and shoved him directly into me.

We collided and stumbled backwards. But instead of trying to go around us to the exit, Ethan took off in the opposite direction, heading farther inside.

I shouted his name then took off after him as he veered right, leapt over a row of seats, and started running across the lanes.

Bowlers shouted at him to get the hell out of the way and he sprinted diagonally, jumping the balls in his path as he headed for the service door on the far left side of the alley. It led to the pinsetters, and I knew there had to be an exit back there. I couldn't let him reach it, but the way he was running, I didn't have a prayer of stopping him.

Maybe Parker did.

I felt him breeze past me at a sprint, then saw him leap the seats and follow, quickly closing half the gap between them as Ethan reached the service door. And just as he threw it open, one of the bowlers decided Parker must be the bad guy in this scenario and snapped his ball onto the lane in front of him.

The bowlers cheered as Parker stumbled and went down, but I was on him in seconds and quickly helped him to his feet. We took off together and barreled into the pinsetter room, only to discover the exit door on the far end was already hanging open, Ethan a blur of motion as he ran outside.

The guy was a freaking gazelle. But then who in his position wouldn't be?

The clatter of the pins was overpowering and the room smelled of grease and old machinery. The pinsetters themselves looked as if they'd been installed several decades ago, and I found myself thinking about the nights Ethan and I would sneak into a room just like this one to grab a private kiss. Sometimes more.

Come on, Kelsey, let's do this.
 

We can start right where we left off.

I shook the thought from my mind and followed Parker to the far side of the room. He paused at the open doorway, holding a hand up to stop me from rushing through.

"Easy," he said. "He could be waiting out there to ambush us."

"
Ethan
?"

"He's pretty good with his elbows."

"Then you have my permission to shoot him. God knows somebody needs to."

Parker grinned. "Remind me never to get on your wrong side."

"You once spent half a night on my wrong side and that turned out okay."

"Yeah, if you ignore the part where I got shot."

He reached to the small of his back where he was hiding his Glock. Pulling it free, he signaled for me to stay back as he peered outside, then stepped cautiously through the doorway.

But the moment he did, a hand holding a gun appeared, pressing the barrel against Parker's left temple.

"I think we can take it from here," a familiar voice said, then Cat Eater stepped into view.

There were five of them. Just like before. Cat Eater and his partner. The thugs, still dressed like hunters. They herded us to an enclosed area near a couple of industrial-sized trash bins where one of the thugs was holding Ethan at gunpoint.

"I've called this little meeting for two reasons," Cat Eater said as he turned to Parker. "First, as much as I can admire your ingenuity on a professional level, I don't appreciate being lied to. Didn't anyone ever tell you that impersonating a federal officer is a felony offense?"

"I tell him that all the time," I said.