“Who hit this?” Simon jabbed his finger at the center of the blueprints. “It’s not a big list, I can tell you that.”
“The smaller the better, my friend,” Hale said with a pat on Simon’s back. “The smaller the better.”
“Can I keep these?” Simon asked.
“Sure,” Kat said. “We’ve got a spare set. And, Simon . . . thanks.”
She was already standing and starting to walk away, when Simon asked, “This is why you’re back, isn’t it?”
Kat squinted against the bright sun. She felt a million miles from the gray-skied campus of Colgan.
“Yeah.” She glanced at Hale. “It’s kind of . . .”
Simon waved her away. “I don’t need to know. I was just wondering if it had anything to do with those two guys who have been following us since we left the lecture.”
Of all the people Kat expected to see on the Las Vegas strip, Arturo Taccone’s goons were not on the list. They hadn’t tried to blend in among the tourists and high rollers— hadn’t taken a place at the tables, or positioned themselves by the slots—and that, more than anything, infuriated her. Together, Goon 1 and Goon 2 were five hundred pounds of European muscle.
And yet Kat had missed them.
She worried what else she might be missing as she rushed Hale and Simon away from the pool.
When Kat looked back, she saw Goon 2 raising his left arm, pointing at his watch.
“Kat?” Simon asked.
“Keep walking.”
“What time is it?” Kat wondered aloud as she and Hale walked across the tarmac to the Hale family’s private plane. “Let me think . . . Twelve hours in the air . . . That’ll put us there—”
“High noon,” Hale answered. “Give or take.”
“Okay, first thing tomorrow we hit the streets around Taccone’s place. Somebody saw something.”
“I got it covered.”
“The DiMarcos might be in town.”
“Actually, they’re in jail.”
“All seven of them?”
Hale shrugged. “It was an interesting October.”
Kat shook her head and tried to tell herself that not everything had changed. “Okay, then we should call—”
“I said, I’ve got it.” Hale’s voice was firmer now. Kat stopped in her tracks and stared at him.
“Define got it.”
“Hey, I’m more than just a delightful travel companion, you know.” He grinned. “I’m not exactly friendless.”
“Who?” Kat asked.
But Hale kept walking. “A friend.”
Kat reached for his arm and stopped him. “A friend of yours? A friend of mine? Or a friend of ours?”
He broke free of her grip and stepped away, hands in his pockets and a dark smile on his face. “Are we going to have a problem, Katarina?” he asked, sounding eerily like Uncle Eddie.