Point One Five (Rules Undying Book 4), page 1
Point One Five
R. E. Carr
© 2017 R E Carr
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 197807963X
ISBN 13: 9781978079632
To the one who said yes, when everyone else told me no.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue . . . a.k.a. Meanwhile, The Sheriff’s Back in Town
Acknowledgements
1
“Do you ever feel like maybe there is something missing from your life?” Gail Foster said, sighing. She stuck the last label on her batch of samples before shoving them into the lab fridge.
“It’s Friday and five PM. The only thing missing from my life right now is two-for-one margaritas at Paco’s Tacos, Gail,” Lori said as she popped her gloves in the trash. “Come on, let’s ditch the scrubs and hit the nachos.”
“Just give me a sec…” she trailed off as a tall, dark, and handsome pair walked past the lab window. Lori quickly joined in the gawking, leaning against the counter as they took in tight black T-shirts, square jaws, and CW show-worthy hair. Indeed, the two young women were so busy staring into the hall that they failed to notice the back door open.
“Foster! Patterson!” their boss barked. They both hopped to attention. Lori nearly knocked a tray of test tubes onto the floor as she whirled to face their tiny terror of a manager.
“Dr. Nakano, we were just—” Gail said, frantically helping Lori shove the tray back on the counter.
Dr. Nakano pointed to the clock above the fridge. “It’s five-o-five on a Friday. What the hell are you ladies still doing here?”
Lori and Gail shot each other a sideways glance before finally both letting out their breath. Their tiny boss made a little shooing motion and walked over to check the computer. Just as Gail was at the door, however, Dr. Nakano asked, “Oh, Foster, you used to do infusions, right?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“My son is going to be in town for a while, and I need someone to supervise his infusion this month. It would be some overtime for you.”
Gail stared at the floor. “It’s a little complicated. I’m not technically licensed in Texas.”
“Hey, text me if you want to do tacos,” Lori said as she snuck out the lab and took off after the two hunks.
Once they were alone, Dr. Nakano smiled knowingly. “Miss Foster, I’m well aware of your qualifications and your history. I got your real resume and cover letter from our friends that placed you here. Does that make you feel better? Let’s just say that my son is in a similar situation as you, and I’d feel much more comfortable having him here, in a secure location, than having him helpless in a hospital. It’s a routine IVIg. The mix is already formulated. I just need someone to watch to make sure there are no reactions. You still remember how to take vitals and stand by with an Epi-Pen, right?”
“Of course, but—”
“It would be a personal favor. Both Dr. Iwashi and Dr. Ahmed will be in the building if anything happens, but I don’t want to pull them away from their research.”
“I suppose, I could do it, but wouldn’t you want—?”
“Miss Foster, this lab trusts you with millions of dollars of sensitive data, and critical clinical trial samples, daily. I think I can trust you to watch one infusion and not talk about it. Right?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Very good. Plan on working late next Tuesday, then. Now shoo and enjoy the weekend!”
Gail gave a nod and a wave before slipping out into the hall. She nearly ran into the gushing, blushing Lori who had managed to waylay the hunks and strike up a conversation about tacos not two feet from the door.
“Oh, Gail, meet the new security guards!” she cried the moment she saw her friend. “This is Stan and this is Jonathan, and they just got assigned here from corporate. Oh, get this: they are brothers, too!”
“All our life,” the shorter of the two added with a winning smile. “Gail… Foster, right? Pleasure to meet you.”
“Um, hi,” she replied as she tried not to stare too much at his bright green eyes and classic good looks. “You’ve heard of me, or has Lori just been talking your ear off already?”
“We make it our business to know all the employees when we take a security job—”
“Especially the female ones,” the taller one, Stan, muttered just loud enough to be heard.
His brother rolled his eyes. “The name’s Jonathan. Jonathan Dean,” he said, extending his hand. As Gail reluctantly shook it, Jonathan continued with, “The lovely Lori here was telling us about a place with killer tacos and a sweet bar. We were just finishing with the paperwork and were kinda hoping to get to know the town.”
Lori peeked over Jonathan’s shoulder and gave Gail a look of sheer desperation as well as a rapid-fire nod.
Gail gave a tight smile. “Well, Paco’s Tacos does have two-for-one margaritas,” she said weakly.
“Awesome!”
Lori began a furious flutter of texting as she sent directions to the brothers. She practically shoved Gail into the ladies’ locker room where they set record time flipping from work outfits into jeans and T-shirts. Gail stared in horror in the mirror at the trio of blackheads that had chosen this particular day to erupt along her nose. She also eyed her sensible shoes and messy bun with an equal measure of chagrin.
“How did you do that?” Gail finally asked her taller, darker, cuter companion.
Lori smoothed her dyed-red hair and applied a fresh coat of lip gloss. She made a little kissy-face at her reflection before turning to face Gail. “Sugar, if a catch that fine just swims by, you have to throw a hook.”
“You make them sound like bass,” Gail muttered as she dug her pathetic makeup kit out of her purse and went to work on her face.
“Mmm, bass,” Lori purred. “Two of them, two of us, plus tequila and tacos equals a much better Friday night than we could have possibly hoped for. I hope I didn’t crash any better plans of yours, hon.”
“I just had a book and leftovers,” Gail confessed.
“What happened to what’s-his-name?”
“Yeah, it turns out that Dan, the investment banker from Dallas, was actually Dan the pathological liar from Fort Worth who pulls espresso shots for a living to pay off back child support.”
“Eww, yeah, he was definitely not hot enough to be poor and eligible,” Lori said with a wicked grin.
Gail gave her a playful shove. “You are terrible.”
“No, just honest. Now come on, let’s get the new guys liquored up before they notice anyone hotter than us.”
With that, the girls rushed to the parking lot and took the ten-minute drive north to a strip mall already jam-packed on a Friday night. Lori babbled non-stop as Gail watched out for crazy traffic and held on to the oh-shit grip over her window every time they swerved.
“Mind if I go for Stan? I like a bit of mountain climbing for my weekend adventure,” Lori said as they whipped into a parking spot, cutting off a group piled into a Prius.
“Um, sure, but I’m not going to get my hopes up. Come on, these guys are way out of my league—” Gail started.
“Dude, first off, alcohol is the great equalizer,” Lori said. “And secondly, you have that exotic, Eastern European kinda femme fatale look going for you, like the bad Bond girl.”
“James Bond would never hit someone as flat chested as me—”
Lori shook her head. “Dude, it’s ninety percent confidence. If you just waltz in there like you own the place and flutter your eyelashes, the tequila will take care of the rest. Don’t forget you have the hottest wing-woman in history right next to you.”
She fluttered her eyelashes until Gail finally giggled. “You are crazy.” She sighed. “You know, these guys might be boring lunkheads who only want to talk about guns and trucks. They also might not even show up—”
Gail raised a brow as she saw the two dudes from the lab waiting patiently under a neon cactus-in-sombrero sign. “You were saying?” Lori said as they got out of the car.
“Good luck,” Gail muttered as her friend sauntered up to the taller brother and started chatting.
“Hey, I’m so sorry if it’s awkward and we’re crashing your evening, but—” Jonathan started.
“No, the more the merrier!” Gail said, immediately cringing at her high-pitched cruise director kind of voice. “I mean, I just got to town a year ago, and Lori took me in. She’s our resident extrovert and welcome wagon.”
“Nice,” he said before holding open the door for all of them. “Stan is the people-person, too. I sort of stand behind him and end up paying for stuff. Wow, there are a lot of people in one Mexican restaurant!”
“Two-for-one margarita happy hour,” Lori and Gail said in unison.
They staked out a corner to wait, tapping their feet to a mix of mariachi and country music while Stan and Lori chatted non-stop. Gail waited a few minutes before daring to enter the terrifying world of small talk.
“So, you and your brother both are security guards?” she asked.
“We, um, kind of do some freelance work for a member of the board of directors at Biogenesys Labs. She asked us to help with security since there would be some sensitive personnel on site this month,” Jonathan started.
“Ooh, you’re bodyguards?” Lori chimed in. She hummed a bit of the Whitney Houston song before turning her full attention back to the agreeable Stan.
“We can be,” Jonathan added.
“Specialists, huh?” Gail said, looking down. She curled her hands around her purse straps.
“You’d be surprised how valuable scientists and their data can be nowadays,” Jonathan said. “And there are always bad people out there that you need to look out for, right?”
“Yeah, there are bad people out there,” Gail muttered. Before she could get too lost in thought, their little pager buzzed, and they were all dragged off to the land of cheap booze and plentiful tacos.
“Hey, guac doesn’t cost extra here. God, I love Texas!” Jonathan exclaimed as he ordered. After the first round of drinks and some nachos, Gail was smiling again. Her gaze did slip to her new friend’s boots as he kicked them out from under the table. She zeroed in on the slight bulge along the side of his calf.
Jonathan smiled and gave her a little nod. She quickly finished her drink.
Lori pointed to the little dance floor in the back. “Come on!” she cried as she dragged Stan to his feet.
“Oh, I’m good,” Jonathan said at the same time Gail shook her head. They watched the chatterbox pair take over a spot by the jukebox.
Jonathan sloshed back the dregs of his margarita and motioned for another round. He then levelled his gaze at Gail. “Your name is Albanian, right?” he asked.
“Serbian actually,” Gail fired back before she slapped her hand over her mouth and blushed.
“Foster, huh? That’s the name they gave you?” he asked. “It’s Gail Filipovic, isn’t it?”
“H-how?” she stammered.
“Hey, I think that some of your family and some of my family run in the same circles,” he said. “I mean your real family, of course. It’s the reason you’re hiding out in the middle of nowhere, Texas instead of being with your mom in Massachusetts.”
She looked down at his leg and gulped. “Are you here to… to?”
“Rub you out?” he asked without skipping a beat. “Nah, that’s not why I’m here. See, when I found out that you were at the labs, I guessed that you’d be the kind of person that would sniff me and my brother out pretty quickly, so rather than going through all the lies and pretenses, I’d just meet you and tell you straight up that I know who you really are, so you know that I am not someone to mess with, cool?”
“So, this was all a setup?” she asked.
“Well, I did want tacos, and short and brunette is totally my type, but, yeah, I wanted this out of the way before the asset is in the house on Tuesday.”
“Tuesday? Wait—”
“Yeah, there is this scientist, Rikuto Nakano—”
“Nakano?”
“Yeah. I think it would be best if you stay away from him,” Jonathan warned.
“I think that might be a wee bit difficult,” Gail said, her thoughts on her boss’s son before plowing into margarita number two.
“Well, this is awkward,” Jonathan said as they watched Lori and Stan stumble out of Paco’s Tacos arm in arm.
“She was my ride.” Gail sighed.
“And Stan was the designated driver,” Jonathan said while pointing to the empty glasses on the table. “I mean, I could probably get you somewhere if I had the keys.”
She pulled out her phone. “This is why ride shares were invented,” she muttered. “I knew I was kidding myself when I thought this would be a good night.”
“Wasn’t all bad,” Jonathan offered.
“You think I’m some mob snitch who’s after the scientist that happens to by my boss’s son. Damn it, I get dragged thousands of miles from home, get in the witness protection program, and still, still, I can’t escape my family crap, and, oh my god, I just blabbed to you again like an idiot.”
Jonathan eased back in his seat and rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Like I said, I’m not here to rat you out. I’m just looking out for a client.”
Gail slumped in the booth, her bangs flopped over her eyes. “It’s just… so… ridiculous. All I want to do is mind my own business. I’m happy to be Gail Foster and work nine-to-five, with my only excitement being two-for-one margaritas and a new book release.”
“Well, you must have seen or done something to end up all the way out here—”
Gail shook her head. “Oh, that’s the funniest part of my story, don’t you know? I don’t even remember what I saw that landed me here. I woke up in the hospital, stabbed, with head trauma and massive blood loss. I’m sure you’re the type of guy who can break into my shrink’s office and look up my case. I have post-traumatic amnesia. I’m in protection in the hopes I can remember what the heck happened to me, so if you think for one second I want to go back to the family that nearly got me killed, well that’s just dumb. I’m so happy to be out of there, it hurts.”
“Well, that bit might have been omitted in the briefing, and you seem like the type of girl who’s a terrible liar,” Jonathan stated.
“I am an awful liar, especially after two margaritas. How about you?”
Jonathan motioned to a waitress and their empties. “Water and another nachos, please.” He turned back to Gail. “Oh, I’m a terrible liar, so I really never bother with it.”
“And you do, what did you call it, freelance work? In my family, freelance work was just another name for doing a job for a boss, the kind of job you didn’t give the details on in public.”
“Oh, that’s pretty much the definition of my job, my friend. Damn, you got stabbed and you don’t know why? That sucks balls. I mean, do you remember who stabbed you?”
Gail shook her head. “Nope, they found me behind a bar in Downtown Boston. The feds, I guess, were watching me and kept it quiet, and I really should be not telling you this, but I’ve got total verbal diarrhea since you are so hot… oh lord, what am I saying! I’ve never had a real filter between my brain and my mouth, but this past year, it’s just gotten so much worse—”
He took a moment to sniff the remains of both their glasses. “These smell awfully strong for cheap drinks. Tequila is better than any truth serum.”
She grabbed the water the waitress had unobtrusively slipped onto their table along with a new mountain of chips. Jonathan stabbed a chip into the pile of cheesy goodness. However, as a dribble of salsa plopped onto the placemat, Gail shuddered. She zeroed in on the expanding pool of red on the white paper.
“Have you ever found yourself in a situation so utterly ridiculous that you know, somehow, once you accept it, anything is possible?” she whispered.
“What was that?” her companion asked between bites.
“I don’t know. I can’t even remember who said it, but, I remember… salsa. You know, I need a pit stop. Excuse me.”
Gail took her time shoving her way to the bathroom. As the beer sign flickered over her head, her heart raced. “What is wrong with me?” she whispered as she pushed open the door.
“Hey! Watch it,” someone snapped when Gail barged straight into the first open stall and grabbed her head. She closed her eyes, breaking out in cold sweat.
“Why now? Why is this happening now?”
She leaned against the scrawled upon wall, not caring about the number of germs probably crawling on her skin. She tried desperately to slow her breath, to focus on the slow, steady rhythm of curling and uncurling her toes in her shoes as her heart pounded in her chest. She hadn’t even managed to tighten and loosen her calves when she let out a deep sigh and popped a Xanax out of the pill box in her purse.
“I am so sorry, Liver, but you’re just gonna have to deal tonight,” she said before gulping it down. She then rushed out to wash her hands. An older lady with an ill-fitting track suit and horrible dye job smiled at her as she started up the sink.
