God…
Her skin was delightfully flushed, either from carrying that suitcase-which looked heavy-or from sheer pique.
Kit grinned. Good. If she were sufficiently off -balance when they finally met, so much the better for him.
Kit bought a tourist map for camouflage and followed her at a respectable distance. She certainly didn’t dawdle. Whoever she was, she headed straight for the Time Tripper, a modestly priced hostelry catering to families on tight budgets. Middle-aged fathers, respectable in their Hawaiian shirts and jeans, ogled her from over their wives’ heads and ignored whining kids.
She cornered the hapless desk clerk, who shrugged, looked thoroughly irritated, and gestured vaguely toward the next hotel. When she stooped to retrieve her suitcase, Kit’s viscera reacted mindlessly. The man standing next to him groaned, “Oh, yes, there is a God ….” Kit grinned. The guy pulled himself out of a trance when the woman next to him hit him on the shoulder.
”Hey! Quit drooling!”
Another man said, “Five minutes with her would probably kill a horse.”
”Yeah,” his companion moaned, “but what a way to go ….
They were undoubtedly right on all counts. That girl spelled T R-O-U-B-L-E-and her trouble had his name all over it. He sighed. When the redheaded whirlwind headed for the Tempus Fugit, Kit decided to let her continue the hunt alone. If Jimmy had laid his groundwork properly, she’d spend the next several minutes going from hotel to hotel. That would give Kit time to dig up what he could on her. He watched her eye-catching retreat toward the Fugit, then hastily backtracked toward the Down Time.