Delilah had breakfast on the table by the time Boone finished showering. Boone had suspected a bowl of cereal, but Delilah had cooked a full breakfast. “I figured you would be hungry.”
“I see you have already been online looking for our next assignment,” Boone stated seeing Delilah’s tablet on the table.
“Actually, I got an email from an old friend of my daddy’s,” Delilah confessed. “He is looking for someone to infiltrate a militia group which has set up a training camp over in Idaho.”
“An old friend of your father’s?” Boone asked filled with suspicion. He was hoping to learn about Delilah's father.
“I did some work for him during the Cuban Missile Crisis,” Delilah shrugged nonchalantly.
“You mean the Cuban Missile Crisis in the early 60’s? The 1960’s?” Boone asked. He knew Delilah was older, much older than her twenty-five-year-old facade revealed.
“That’s the one,” Delilah smirked proudly. “I got Khrushchev to remove the missiles from Cuba.”
“Sure you did,” Boone smirked sarcastically. “And next, you are going to tell me you killed Kennedy.”
“Not me, but one of my sisters did,” Delilah confessed.
“What the fuck?!?”
“Jackie was sick and tired of Jack fucking around on her. Marilyn's birthday present was more than she could cope with. Everyone knew Jack and Marilyn were sleeping together, and even a year and a half later, Jackie could not shake the embarrassment. She mentioned it to one of my sisters and voila, Jack is dead. Jack wasn’t the only one fucking around. Jackie was just more discreet about her affairs. Jackie needed a way to end her marriage. Divorce was out of the question. They were Catholic.”
Boone stared at Delilah in disbelief. “Talk about a conspiracy theory,” he chuckled as he started eating. “And the Warren Commission cost the taxpayers a pretty penny for nothing.”
“Lee Harvey Oswald was the perfect patsy for the assassination,” Delilah shrugged. “Not only was he framed for the murder, but he was killed before the truth came out. It was all quite convenient.” Boone suspected Delilah's sister was also involved in Oswald's death but said nothing.
“Infiltrating a home-grown militia is dangerous, Angel; damn dangerous. I do not like it. An army of two against dozens of gun toting, beer drinking, holier than thou antigovernment radicals is not very good odds.”
“We go in as a couple, survivalists,” Delilah suggested. “We just need to get pictures. The government will take care of the rest. It will be a cakewalk.”
“Oh hell no,” Boone seethed. “The last you time you said ‘cakewalk’ we nearly bumped up with a half vamp. And do not forget about the encounter with Dracula one and two. I do not think Daddy will come to our rescue two times in a row. I do not believe that we can dip into that well twice.”
“We do not have to decide today. Just think about it,” Delilah smiled putting a large bloody rare steak onto Boone’s plate. “Do you dance?” Delilah asked.
“Dance?”
“I want to go dancing. Let’s dress up and go out for dinner and dancing. Drive over to Albuquerque. I know a perfect place in the Sandia Mountains. It will be fun.”
Boone did not know how to dance. He owned one suit, dark gray, which he used if and when he had to testify in court. But those appearances were few and far between. But knowing Delilah, he was aware that she would have the perfect dress to wear to dinner. He knew she would look utterly gorgeous. She was already totally gorgeous.
“Come on, Albuquerque is only five hours away. We can make a night of it,” Delilah begged.
“Sounds like fun.” Boone tried to sound enthusiastic. “Go pack and I will pick you up after lunch, and we will drive over.”
Delilah jumped up and down. “Thank you. Thank you. I promise we will have fun. I will make all the arrangements.”