Jump the Gun by Zoe Burke Page A

bathroom, and I could hear him running the sink water. Mickey patted my knee. “You will never be able to say that I was not an exciting date.”
    â€œNo, I will never be able to say that. Now change your clothes. Maybe put on your khakis.”
    Mickey stood up, leaned over, and kissed me. The bill of my cap hit his forehead. He turned it ninety degrees and kissed me again. “I’ll be right back, and then we’ll get out of here.”
    A feeling of panic filled me. “Where are you going? The last time you said you’d be right back, you were not right back!”
    Mickey tilted his head toward the bathroom. “I’m going in there to change my clothes, okay?”
    â€œOkay. But before you do, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
    â€œOkay, shoot.”
    â€œMy present. When you left me in this suite before, you were getting me a present at the hotel store. What was it?”
    Mickey hit his head in an oh-right, now-I-remember motion and came back over to me and sat down. He reached in his pants pocket and brought out his hand in a fist, holding it toward me. I opened my hand flat out and held it underneath his. He let go of his fist and a small brown object fell into my hand.
    I examined it closely: a beautiful animal, carved out of some rich brown stone. “A mountain lion?”
    â€œYes. It’s a fetish.”
    â€œIt’s wonderful. I love it. Does it mean something special?”
    Mickey laughed then. “Yeah, in fact part of Mountain Lion’s power is to protect you while you’re traveling.”
    I laughed, too. “I’m not so sure he’s doing a very good job.”
    â€œThat depends on your point of view. You’re still safe so far, aren’t you?”
    â€œI can’t argue with that. Do you give mountain lion fetishes to all your first dates?”
    He put the palm of his hand on my cheek. “Never before. I saw it in the shop window when we came in. I collect them.”
    I gave Mickey a kiss, and he got up and sorted through clothes in a pile on the floor. I watched him find a t-shirt, socks, and boxers, and search for a pair of pants. He finally grabbed his jeans. Then he stood up and kind of looked me over. He turned my cap back around. “Nice pants.” We laughed. Luis came out of the bathroom, and Mickey went in.
    I had no reason to think it was anyone but Jake who had ransacked our suite. He’d had enough time while we were locked in the conference room. Clearly, he was looking for something. The question was, what?
    While Mickey was cleaning up and changing his clothes, Luis resumed his wandering around the room, and I picked up my stuff to repack it in my suitcase. This was a problem, because my suitcase was ruined. I found it sliced to shreds. I pulled out three dry-cleaning plastic bags from the closet. I shoved my clothes into them as I gathered them up from the floor, the furniture, the counter top, all the while taking inventory of what I was finding and trying to remember what I wasn’t finding, straining to imagine anything at all that Jake would want to steal from me. That he would want to kidnap me for. I didn’t have any fancy jewelry with me. I’m someone who pretty much wears the same jewelry all the time, so it’s always on me: five rings, three bracelets, and a toe ring when I have sandals on.
    I do like to change my earrings and usually travel with about ten pairs, even when I’m gone on two-day trips. I like choices. But my earrings tend to be costume jewelry—not valuable. The extra pairs I had packed were all there, dumped out on the floor next to my jewelry case.
    I also like interesting pins, and I had brought a stick pin with me to Chicago. I wear it in the lapel of a jacket, now and then I add it to a hat. It has a big fake pearl mounted on a blue enamel square. It was not with my earrings, it was not in my case. I wondered if I left it