Triple Threat - James Patterson Page 0,83
wouldn’t answer her phone call.
When she sees us coming out of the building, she offers a bashful smile and lifts her arms up as if to surrender.
“Truce?” she says.
I smile and say hello. Obviously I was just being paranoid when I blew up at her about the article.
“I want to talk to you about something,” she says. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” She gestures toward the café next door to the gym. “Off the record,” she adds. “Not for publication. I just want to talk—as friends.”
Claire eyes her suspiciously. My heart swells a little—she looks cute when she’s jealous.
I tell Hannah that I’ll meet her over in the coffee shop. Then I ask Claire if she minds going back to my house and waiting for me. It’s just a short walk along the beach path. Today is a warm day—maybe the last of the season—and I don’t think she’ll mind.
“Should I be worried?” Claire says, gesturing toward the coffee shop as Hannah steps inside.
“Not at all,” I say. “Hannah and I are just friends.”
I give her a long, reassuring kiss, and then I head to the coffee shop. Hannah is waiting in line, and I join her. She buys a regular coffee and I opt for a soda instead. I’m more of a sugar junkie than a caffeine addict.
Hannah insists on paying.
In our seats, she smiles at me, and I can tell there’s something on her mind. I wonder for a moment if she’s going to declare that she has feelings for me, and I realize I’m not quite sure how I would handle that. I’m falling for Claire—hard—but sitting across from Hannah, I’m struck with how much I like her. With the sunlight through the window catching her hair and bringing out the depth in her chocolate-brown eyes, she’s every bit as pretty as Claire.
In another life, I think, maybe she and I would have been meant for each other.
“Was that your girlfriend?” Hannah asks.
“I’m sorry I didn’t introduce you. I guess you caught me off guard.”
I tell her that I met Claire the day after I met her. Hannah has a melancholy look on her face, like she knows she missed her chance.
“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” she says. “I don’t want you to get mad and storm off. I just want to talk. As friends.”
Now I’m nervous.
She reaches into her purse and pulls out a piece of paper folded in half. She unfolds it and slides it across the table to me.
It’s a photocopy of a warrant for my arrest.
Chapter 13
“Shit,” I say, and I flop back in my seat. I tilt my head back and run my fingers through my sweaty hair. I think about how much trouble I’m in.
The problem isn’t the warrant. The warrant is old. It’s from an armored car job that Marco and I did a few years ago. The police brought me in after the warrant was issued, but they ended up releasing me. No charges were filed. Not enough evidence.
I’m sure Hannah knows all of this. Like I said, the problem isn’t the warrant: the problem is that if Hannah knows about the warrant, then she probably knows a lot more. If she dug deep enough to speak to someone in LA’s robbery division, which is what she would have had to do to get this outdated warrant, then she probably knows about a lot of the crimes I’m suspected of committing.
And if she writes about any of it, then Marco will find me.
Last time, I’d surprised Marco when I’d refused to show him the diamonds. Now he’s had two years to think about that scenario, to reconsider how he would handle the situation if given a second chance. The next time he sees me, I won’t be able to refuse. He’ll kill me no matter what.
I take a drink from my soda and say, “Can we walk along the beach? I don’t want to talk in here.”
She looks out the window, as if considering whether she wants to be alone with me. There are plenty of people on the sand, out en masse for one of the last decent days of the season. Forecasters are predicting the temperature will plummet in the next couple days. It might even snow.
“Okay,” she says.
We walk along the path back toward my house. There’s a slight breeze, and it chills me because I’m still in my sweat-soaked clothes. The breeze pushes Hannah’s hair back, and she