Rarities Unlimited 04 - The Color of Death

been as relieved as the courier to finally get to a tire store. It had been a bitch to follow a car at twenty miles an hour on the freeway and not get caught. The only good news was that he’d nailed the key signal when the courier locked the trunk before putting the car on the lift.
    This time Kirby wouldn’t have to stroll through a parking lot with a tire iron tucked along his leg. He could open the trunk the easy high-tech way.
    Waiting for the opportunity to get the job done, he shifted in the narrow seat. Cheap rental cars were anonymous, and damned uncomfortable after the first twenty miles.
    Change the fucking tire, go to a gas station to piss, I’ll key the trunk, and we’ll all go home.
    The courier’s car finally came down off the lift and drove away. Kirby watched him pass up two gas stations with minimarts and a local café that advertised five kinds of beer. When the courier took the shortest route back to the freeway, Kirby knew he wasn’t going to have a choice. If he wanted the package, he’d have to take it in the Royale employee parking lot.
    He hesitated, then decided if it was shift change when he got there, he’d write off the shipment, turn in his car, and go back to being Jack Kirby. But if it wasn’t….
    I’ll take it.
    Adrenaline spiked. He liked the familiar kick, harder and better than any caffeine, any coke.
    He opened the glove compartment, took out a silencer, pulled his gun, and screwed the silencer in place. The gun didn’t really fit back in the boot holster this way, but if he had to fire the piece it wouldn’t make enough noise to bring every cop in creation on the run.
    Even so, using a gun was risky.
    It’s worth it.
    He was betting Branson and Sons had cleaned out the vaults to put together a second shipment. That meant he was a lot closer to a quiet life in Venezuela, fishing the Orinoco and making occasional trips to the bank in Aruba.
    Smiling, Kirby waited and dreamed of fish rising out of a dark river to take his lure.

Chapter 37
    Scottsdale
    Friday
    3:30 P.M .
    “I always wondered how I’d look as a green-eyed redhead,” Kate said.
    “Dynamite,” Sam said. He set the parking brake and looked at his made-over companion. “I thought your skin would give you away, but it’s pink rather than olive, even without makeup.”
    “My ancestors were Welsh, Irish, and Scots, not Mediterranean.” She watched the hotel parking lot activity without really seeing it. “Used to gripe me no end to have black hair, dark eyes, and a fish-belly complexion. I wanted gorgeous olive skin the way most girls want big breasts.”
    Sam smiled. “How do the contacts feel?”
    “Not nearly as comfortable as advertised.”
    “Use the drops I bought at the drugstore.”
    “I did.”
    He reached for the door handle. It was that or reach for her. As he was trying real hard to keep everything at a professional level, he’d better stop touching her at every excuse.
    “Ready?” he asked.
    She blew out a breath. “Yeah. I don’t think even Uncle Gavin would recognize me.”
    “Don’t count on it. You have a way of looking sideways at a man and almost smiling that is unforgettable.”
    Kate looked startled, then pleased. “Really?”
    “Don’t sound so smug. It could get you killed.”
    “Hey, after a girl’s been turned down, she takes her satisfaction where she can.”
    “I didn’t turn you down.”
    “Then why am I unsatisfied?” she retorted.
    “Kate—”
    “Forget it. I’m trying to.”
    She shot out of the car and smoothed her lightweight black slacks and black silk tank top into place. Because she knew what hotel air conditioning was like, she had a loosely woven green silk shawl over her arm. It wasn’t her usual meet-and-greet outfit, which was why she was wearing it. Ditto for the big leather tote and the platform sandals that brought her forehead up to Sam’s cheekbones instead of his chin. Her earrings were green amber set in silver. A silver chain set with hunks of green and gold amber was clasped loosely around her waist.
    If Sam’s first reaction to her outfit was any indication, she looked pretty damn good.
    With that and a dollar I can get a cup of bad coffee. I sure as hell can’t get laid by Special Agent Sam Groves.
    Sam slammed the car door. “Kate—”
    “Branson and Sons is opening a booth today,” she said over his attempt to talk. “Do you want to start there?”
    Sam wanted to finish what he’d stupidly started back at Kate’s