and dark green painted wood on the top. We were meeting there to set in motion the first part of the plan that Breck insisted on calling Operation Get Carson Laid, over my strenuous objections. Probably because of them.
Steele pulled the SUV into the driveway, parking it next to the old white Nissan Sentra Miranda had gotten for the boys. It fit with their covers as UWL students and would blend in with all the other sedans in town. The brand-new silver Lexus parked on the other side of the yard was nowhere near as inconspicuous. That must be Davis’s. He and Wesley had caught up to us last night. I’d gone for an older BMW to make the right impression on Bob. He was all about appearances.
If there was one thing I knew how to do, it was craft an impression. Everything I’d done for the last decade had been calculated for effect. It was exhausting.
“What do you think?” Danny said, throwing the door open. Music blared through the shabby interior. On the huge television attached to the wall, small weaponized robots battled silently to the death in an octagonal ring. “It came furnished.”
“And here I thought you went out and bought beer cans just for decorating purposes.” I tried to keep any of my body parts from touching anything upholstered.
Davis lounged on the ratty sofa in a loosely woven linen shirt and sweatpants I thought might be cashmere, any trace of Diplomatic Security Agent Davis Ethan completely gone. Surrounded by décor best described as early frat bro, he looked like a model in some edgy editorial photoshoot about the contrast between rich and poor. Stretched out next to him, Ridge also looked surprisingly high fashion in a slouchy pair of silk midnight-blue striped pajamas.
“I feel underdressed,” Leo said, though he was wearing a Western-style shirt with ivory snaps the worn cowboy boots that had been waiting for him at the hotel when we’d checked in. For some reason, seeing them had brought a smile to his face. Smiles looked good on him.
Leo and Davis were posing as investors I was squiring around town under the cover of my financial investor identity. Steele was Davis’s bodyguard, hence the posh suite in the nicest hotel in La Crosse.
“What is this music?” Leo asked.
“Do you like it?” Breck asked. “It’s this local band, Undercover Romulans. This is their first song, ‘Mars is Burning.’”
Leo nodded grudgingly. “It doesn’t suck. But could we maybe turn it down?”
“No problem, Big Daddy,” Breck said.
Leo winced but didn’t say anything. I guess he’d given in to the inevitable. That call sign was sticking.
“We brought breakfast,” Steele said, tossing a sack of bagels and cream cheese on to the table. Breck went in for a kiss.
“Oh, thank God,” Ridge said, getting up from the couch. “I’m starving.”
We settled ourselves gingerly on the ratty furniture, Ridge joining Davis back on the couch. Wesley stumbled down the stairs. I couldn’t tell if he’d just woken up or had yet to get to sleep; mornings weren’t his favorite time.
Danny noticed the faces we were making at the couches of questionable origin. “Oh, I’m sorry, are the accommodations not up to your standards? I hope you’re enjoying yourself at that presumably swanky hotel you’re staying in.”
Wesley snorted and spread a towel on the seat of the armchair he settled into. “Super 8 is swanky compared to this place.”
“The faster we get this job done, the faster we get out of here,” Leo said.
“And then what?” Steele asked.
No one answered. None of us knew what came next or where we would be next.
“We should get ready to go,” Leo said. “The tournament is starting soon.”
Wesley had found out that Eric was registered for a charity golf tournament at the Onalaska country club. Onalaska was where the rich people who worked in La Crosse lived. Therefore, it was where the country club was.
Eric had registered a foursome of him, Bob, Ryan, and an unnamed fourth player. Under the name of his ice rink, he was raising money for the Special Olympics. Learning that had made my breath catch and given me a lump in my throat. I’d made a huge anonymous donation.
Davis, Leo, Steele, and I had signed up as a foursome. Danny, who knew how to golf, would be the caddy assigned to Eric’s team. The twins would mingle with the crowd, keeping an eye on things. Wesley would be the man in the van, monitoring everyone’s coms and camera as well