Licensed to Kill

Chapter 17

A leak in the ceiling dripped water into a bucket, the noise tapping away at my nerves. I gritted my teeth in annoyance as I tried to finish the notes I'd been jotting down.

We'd settled on a rundown motel on the edge of town to spend the night. Dallas had walked next door to a corner café to get us some coffee, sandwiches, and a small bag of cookies for the road while I indulged in a much-needed shower. The food wasn't very appealing or nutritious, but it was sustenance at least.

After Dallas returned, Alana called with more information while he was in the shower. I'd written down everything she'd told me, and then proceeded to jot down my own thoughts while I waited for him to finish up in the bathroom.

A loud screech like nails on a chalkboard sounded when the bathroom door squeaked open. Dallas poked his head out and we shared a cringe at the noise.

"Feel better?" I asked, still grimacing.

We'd both been complaining about how badly we needed showers, and I felt a thousand times better after mine, despite how filthy the bathroom was.

"Much," he nodded, emerging from the bathroom with just a towel hanging so low on his hips that I could almost see the base of his cock peeking out, and I couldn't help licking my lips at the sight.

Dallas didn't seem to think anything of his appearance, though I knew he could tell I was eyeing his angelic figure from across the room. Usually, he wouldn't pass up an opportunity to drop a cocky, sarcastic comment about me checking him out; but for now, he was simply busying himself with towel-drying his hair and rummaging through his bag for a clean T-shirt.

Maybe that was something that had changed in the last four years. Or maybe Dallas just had too much on his mind to make his usual wisecracks. I told myself not to overthink the minor detail, but something festered under my skin at the idea that little quirks about the man I loved had possibly changed over the years. Some little paranoid section in the back of my mind worried that I may end up finding out that Dallas had changed a lot more in four years than I initially thought, and I wondered what kind of effect that could have on the future of our relationship.

I tried to banish the unsettling thoughts from my mind and turned my attention back to the notepad in my hands. I had a series of bullet points listing the new information from Alana, as well as my hypotheses about the investigation.

"Alana called while you were in the shower," I told Dallas, tapping the pen against the pad.

Facing away from me, he dropped his towel and yanked a fresh pair of jeans up his legs while I shamelessly admired his muscular backside. He turned to me, buckling his belt, and sighed tiredly. I knew that nap in the car hadn't done an ounce of good for him. He needed a long, thorough night of uninterrupted sleep before he might stop resembling a cast member of The Walking Dead.

"What did she say?"

I handed him my notepad as he came to sit down beside me at the foot of the bed, tugging a dark red T-shirt over his head.

"British Airways flight 2481 departed London Heathrow at 8:25AM and landed in Munich at 11:10AM on February 14th," Dallas read aloud, frowning at my handwriting. "I'm lost already, Tali. Help me out here. What is this?"

I scooted closer to him and a sizzle of electricity shot through my skin when our forearms brushed against each other. A brief flicker of desire in his eyes let me know he felt it, too, but I chose to ignore the sensation and proceeded to explain my notes to him. Now wasn't the time to get distracted.

"This flight," I said, pointing to my scribbles. "Is the only flight with a record of Diana Lindsey being on board."

I watched Dallas's expression shifting as he started to comprehend what a significant development this was. When we were at the safe house in Berlin, he'd suggested the possibility of Agent Lindsey being on another flight besides the one from Lancaster's records.