The Last Stand of Charlotte Dodd: Fun, Action Chick Lit Spy Saga

by Holly Kerr

  “Hi,” I concede, matching his smile.

  A little girl, with a rat’s nest of hair and brilliant green eyes tugs at my hand. “Boyfriend,” she says, pointing to Bryton.

  “No!” My smile transforms into an expression of horror. “He’s not—husband. I have—he’s not—”

  “Charlotte Dodd’s husband is the head of NIIA, Hamilton Short the Third,” Agatha says helpfully, while the kids shriek in terror from the robotic voice.

  “Thanks so much for clearing that up, Agatha,” Bryton says with amusement in his voice as he draws one little boy close after he bursts into tears.

  “How do you know Agatha?” I demand. Sometimes it’s hard not to refer to her like she’s a person.

  “Bryton Raak visited in 2011 and 2012,” Agatha supplies.

  “You weren’t here,” Bryton says quickly. “I had to talk to Ham. It was nothing about you.”

  “But you were here. And you know Ham.”

  “Charlie, I—” The quiet chime signals and I bustle out with the kids as soon as the door opens.

  Seamus is waiting in the hall. An expression of relief crosses his face as he sees me. And then he catches sight of Bryton behind the kids and his face tightens.

  “Seamus.” Bryton nods.

  Everybody knows everybody.

  “I have to take the kids to the cafeteria,” I say to Seamus. “Lance has the rest of them there.”

  “Let me,” Bryton offers. “If you tell me where.”

  “Straight down the hall, turn left,” Seamus says quickly.

  Bryton nods and with a final glance at me, escorts the kids down the hall. Their steps grow slower as heads swivel, taking in the antiseptic-ness of the place. It’s really not a good place to hang out for children.

  “It’s okay,” I call, and a few turn to look back at me. I smile reassuringly. “I’ll be there soon. We’ll get you something to eat. More cookies,” I finish brightly.

  “You’re okay?” Seamus asks.

  I turn away from watching the kids, trying not to notice why Pippa called Bryton sexy-pants. “I’m fine.”

  “Lottie.”

  I give a hiss of frustration, exhaustion weighing heavily on my body. “I don’t know. Why aren’t you with Tenley?”

  “Scotty’s taking care of her now, but I need to know what happened. From you, not Ham.”

  “Ham will tell you the same thing I will,” I assure him, tottering down the hall to my room. Seamus grabs my arm.

  “Ham doesn’t tell me anything.”

  I sigh, tugging free from Seamus’ grasp. “Maybe this isn’t the time to get into you and Ham. I’ve had a long day.”

  “Just tell me about Tenley. Because I’m going to have to tell Lucy something.”

  I stop and face Seamus. “Tell her the truth. It was a car accident. She’d come back to get us and they shot out the tire. The truck flipped over and she broke her leg in the crash.”

  “I can’t tell Lucy that her mother was shot at,” Seamus says sarcastically.

  “Tell her Tenley was in an accident.” A thought pokes into my tired mind. “What did Mom and Dad say when they got banged up? It must have happened a lot.”

  Seamus frowns. “I honestly don’t know, so whatever it was, it obviously worked. Ask Perry.”

  “I will. Go see Tenley,” I say, heading off down the hall again. “I need to get changed. Maybe sleep.”

  “How’s Bryton?”

  That gets my attention. “Ask him yourself. Actually,” I turn and spread my arms in a WTF gesture. “Why don’t you ask Raylene? You didn’t think to tell me she was alive?”

  Seamus scowls. “Did you even remember she was supposed to be dead?” He catches himself. “I didn’t mean that.”

  “You did, and it’s true.” My room is only a few doors away and I start off again. “I can’t deal with this now.”

  “Go to sleep, little Lottie,” Seamus calls with more affection in his voice that I’ve heard in a long time. “You did good bringing him back.”

  I did, I realize. We saved those kids, not to mention the future of Suriname if Bryton has anything to do with it. This mission was a success, with the only issue being Tenley’s injury.

  And possible international repercussions.

  But Tenley will be all right. And Ham will make everything better. Somehow.

  I stretch out on my bed, taking a moment to stop my mind from ricocheting from image to image, taking a moment of quiet.

  Of course, I fall asleep. As soon as my head hits my pillow, I’m out. Only to be awoken an hour later by Pippa bouncing into my room.

  “I should have locked the door,” I mumble, rolling over and covering my face with the pillow.

  “You think that would have stopped me? Time to get up. Time to shop!” she trills.

  I grip the pillow tighter. “I don’t like shopping. And I don’t like you right now.”

  “You’ll like this. Payton told me to get you up. She gave me a brand-new credit card and told me to go get some things for the kids. Clothes, toys, stuff like that.”

  With a groan, I sit up and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. “Have you seen Tenley?”

  “I was down there first, but she was sleeping. They say it’s a simple break, but how simple can breaks really be? Have you broken anything?”

  Even without my memories, I know the answer because one of the first things I did after I came back to NIIA was to check my medical records. I touch my wrist, my collarbone and wiggle my fingers. “And a couple of ribs.” I slide off the bed and head to the bathroom. “Are you worried about Tenley?” I throw over my shoulder before closing the door.

  When I come back into the room, Pippa picks up where we left off. “Not really, but she’s not used to this life like we are,” she says over the sound of the flushing toilet.

  “She’s doing okay.” I rummage in the set of drawers for clean clothes as Pippa watches.

  “She is, but there’s Lucy. How do you do this with a kid?”

  “I don’t know,” I admit, adding a sweatshirt over my T-shirt. “I asked her.”

  Pippa’s eyes widen. “Are you pregnant already?”

  I sigh as I sink back onto the bed to tie my shoes. Winter weather in Toronto makes it impossible to wear my Birks, so I make do with red Converse sneakers. “No, but we’re talking.”

  “Talking, like dirty talk?”

  “If you call should we have kids dirty talk, then sure.”

  “Talking is the first step. Or the second, if you’ve already started with the baby-makin’ magic.”

  I laugh at her exaggerated accent. “I’m not telling you anything about that.”

  “I’ll get it out of you someday. Just like you’ll finally look forward to hearing all about my sexytime with your big brother.”

  I follow Pippa to the door. “That is something I’ll never look forward to.”

  ~

  Shopping for kids is a brand-new experience for me.

  “Payton gave us a list of what we should get and sizes.” Pippa pulls the carefully printed list out of her pocket as the doors of Wal-Mart open automatically for us. “I’m glad because I’d get them all I love Canada toques and call it a day. Is Payton some kind of robot, like the elevator? Is there anything she can’t do?”

  “Make my Ham fall in love with her,” I retort smugly.

  “Oh, snap! There’s the bitchy Charlie I know and love. What happened there? I thought she was hot and heavy with one-legged Nick.”

  “Don’t call him that.”

  “It’s what he calls himself. It’s how he introduced himself.” Pippa drops her accent and deepens to voice to mimic Nick’s bear-like growl. “’I’m one-legged Nick’. He’s a cool cat.”

  “He’s amazing.”

  “Do you miss working with him?”

  “I don’t remember working with him,” I remind her, catching hold of a shopping cart.

  “Oh, yeah. I keep forgetting about that. Get it?” Pippa s
laps my arm. “Forgetting?” She pushes me aside to take control of the cart.

  She always needs to drive, the same as Declan. I wonder about the arguments they must have every time they go somewhere. “Haha. Give me the list.”

  We roam the store, as canned Christmas music loudly plays, piling winter essentials like boots and coats into the buggy. Hats, mittens, warm sweaters, and jogging pants. Pyjamas and socks, T-shirts and underwear. The cart is quickly filled.

  “How long do you think they’ll be here?” Pippa asks as we reach the back of the store. “We have to find their parents.”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen Ham since we got off the plane.” I glance down the aisle of the toy section, full of colourful packaging. Pinks and blues, boxes of LEGO and smiling dolls propped on the shelves. It’s the day before Christmas and the whole area looks like a hurricane hit it.

  “Perry did the debriefing for us but I’m sure he’ll want more details from you.” Pippa sees what I’m looking at. “You know, we’ve no toys in the buggy yet.”

  I meet her gaze with a big smile. “Let’s play Santa.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Happiness doesn’t result from what we get, but from what we give.”

  Ben Carson

  Ham finds me in the cafeteria later, amid a scene of cheerful chaos.

  Kids are running everywhere, screaming with laughter. Coats and boots are being tried on, thrown about. A little guy who looks to be about six years old has ripped open one of the packages of underwear and is wearing all three pairs and nothing else while running across one of the cafeteria tables. Another girl has a toque pulled over her eyes and is waltzing around zombie-like, just missing tripping over a chair. Empty plates and cups are strewn over one of the tables, and as I smile at the sight, one of the cafeteria workers appears, bearing a plate of cookies. The kids surround her with cheers.

  We haven’t even given them the toys yet.

  “We had to bring them back,” I say apologetically to Ham.

  “Of course you did.” He sounds tired, with dark circles under his eyes. “It’s a bit of a diplomatic nightmare, though.”

  “Especially since we weren’t even supposed to be there.”

  “Neither was Bryton, so they have their secrets too. I’ll fix things.”

  “You always do.” I slip my hand into his. “But do you always want to?”

  Ham glances at me, his brow furrowed. “What do you mean? This is what I do.”

  “Have you ever wanted to do something different?” I swing my arm, gesturing to the laughing group. “Other than saving the world?”

  “You’re the one who does the saving.”

  “But I can’t do it without you.”

  “What are you saying, Charlotte?”

  “Nothing. I don’t know.” I turn back to the kids. One of the younger boys has a laugh like a hyena and is making the others crack up listening to it. “They look happy.”

  “Because of you.”

  “I just picked out the stuff. You paid for it.”

  “I meant that it was your decision to rescue them. This is all your doing, Charlotte, and you should be proud of yourself. You help people; maybe not always as directly as this, but you are a force of good in this world.”

  I can’t help smiling at his praise. “I never thought of it that way.”

  “You should. When it gets hard sometimes, or when bad things happen, I like to think of what you accomplish here. What I help you accomplish.”

  “I’ve always thought of it the other way around.”

  Ham shakes his head. “This is all you.” He pulls my hand to his lips and kisses it reverently. “This organization is what it is today because of you. Your sacrifices and your determination.”

  I search his face for a moment before reaching on tiptoes to press my lips against his. “Thanks. That was a pretty good pep talk.”

  Ham smiles. “I’m good at what I do.”

  We stand and watch the antics of the kids for a while, still holding hands. “When I was a kid, I always wanted to be a teacher,” Ham says suddenly.

  “Really?” I look at him with surprise. “Little kids?”

  He’s watching the screaming mob with a pained expression and I smile. I can’t see him shepherding a pack of first graders, either.

  “University,” he says self-consciously. “I liked the thought of being a professor.”

  “I can see you being good at that. You—”

  “Sorry to interrupt,” a voice says from behind. I turn to find Bryton standing there with a sheepish grin.

  Ham loosens his grasp and my hand falls away.

  “I wanted to thank you again. For coming for me, and for rescuing the kids. You did a good thing.” His gaze shifts to Ham. “Both of you.”

  “We do what has to be done,” Ham says stiffly.

  “I appreciate it.” He gestures to the kids. “They’re going to have a great Christmas now, thanks to you. An even better one as soon as they’re reunited with their families.”

  “We’re working on it.” There’s a note of defensiveness in Ham’s voice and I wonder how much is frustration at the diplomatic situation I’ve put him in, and how much of it is Bryton.

  “Of course, it will take time,” Bryton assures him, sounding every inch the politician he is. “If I can do anything, please let me know. As I said, the families will be welcome in Suriname but things need to settle down first. And for that, I need to get back there.”

  It’s a subtle order but I know Ham understands. And bristles—he’s not one who likes being given orders. He’s the order-er.

  “You’ll be returned as soon as the city is secure.” Ham’s words almost sound like Bryton is a prisoner. I’m sure Bryton feels like it as well, even though he’s been given free access to roam around Head Office.

  “What about Christmas for you?” I ask before the two of them can really get into a pissing contest. “Will you see Raylene?”

  Bryton shakes his head. “I hope to, but it might be dangerous to be seen together too much in public. I hope she’ll return to Suriname with me when it’s safe. No, my Christmas will be spent here, waiting patiently to get out.” He smiles ruefully.

  “It’s Christmas,” I blurt out. “You can’t spend it alone.” I picture him wandering the empty halls of Head Office, alone in one of the cell-like guest rooms.

  “I won’t be doing much celebrating,” he admits. “Not until I can get back to my people.”

  “We’ll get you back as soon as we can.” Ham glances over at me with an unreadable expression. “Would you like to stay with us? We have room at the apartment.”

  “We…do? We do,” I correct, trying to hide my surprise. “Of course we do. It’s just us and Mister.”

  “Mister who?”

  “Mister Cat. He’s my cat.”

  “Obviously.” Bryton’s mouth twitches at the corners. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

  “No, it’s fine. Tenley—Oh, no!” I smack my forehead. “Christmas dinner! Tenley wanted to have it at the café, and she was going to cook it.”

  “I’d heard about that,” Ham says. “Unfortunately, I don’t think she’ll be up for it.”

  “I think she was really looking forward to it. Having everyone together.”

  “I agree. I know she was looking forward to it, so I let her know that we’ll host the dinner,” Ham says.

  My mouth falls open. “Us?”

  “And we’ll cook it.”

  “Cook it?”

  Bryton gives a bark of laughter, drops his facade and slaps Ham on the shoulder. “Well, I guess that’s how I can make up for imposing on you. I’m a great cook.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “I could do this all day.”

  Captain America

  Pippa sidles to my side as I watch Ham leave the cafeteria with Bryton. “That must feel a bit odd.”

  “A bit,” I say, still staring after them. Bryton is talking, his hands as a
nimated as his expression. Is that a smile from Ham? Did he just laugh?

  “When Lysander and Declan first laid eyes on each other, they both wanted to kill the other. Or at least kick the shite out of them. Much easier, I have to say.”

  “Much,” I agree. “Ham invited Bryton to stay with us. How could he do that without asking me?”

  “Would you have said no?”

  “No.”

  “Well, then what’s the problem?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just…it’s weird.”

  “Your whole life is weird, Charlotte Dodd. Besides, methinks you have a bigger problem.”

  “I do?”

  Pippa laughs and throws her arm around me. “You’re on the hook for Christmas dinner. Can’t wait to see how you pull that one off!”

  ~

  Once the kids finish examining every last thing we bought them, Pippa and I visit Tenley in the infirmary. I’m happy to see Tenley with colour in her cheeks, rather than the worrisome gray she had been on the plane.

  “Seamus just left,” Tenley begins as soon as we walk into her room. “I sent him out to pick up a table and take it to your place. He and Declan can bring over folding chairs as well, because you don’t have enough. Also, the turkey is in the fridge at the café, so I’ll have him bring that over. You probably need a roasting pan, or do you have your own?”

  “I don’t know,” I say weakly, my head spinning from too much information.

  “You can use mine. I’ve already made the pies, which is a good thing considering this.” She points irritably to her leg.

  “How’s it feel?” I jump on any other topic to distract from her rapid-fire instructions.

  “It itches,” she complains, bringing her hands down on the bed with a frustrated slap. “And I’m already bored.”

  “When are you heading home?”

  “Seamus is coming back for me tonight after he gets you a foldable table and chairs.” I must have looked confused because Tenley rolls her eyes. “Do you have enough chairs? All that space in your place but nowhere for people to sit. You have to think about these things.”