Barbara's Redemption

by Diane Saxon

  He dug his fingers deep into his creased brow. Jesus. Instinct had ruled when she’d killed.

  He stared at the data, his own heart an erratic tattoo, beating out a rhythm far faster than he wanted. He was only assessing the criteria, assimilating the information, but she had his pulse rate elevated. As though it had been him who had pulled the damned trigger.

  He danced his fingers over the keyboard and ran back through the scenario to see what had caused her to react that way. There was nothing but a small hitch in the program, an instant of blankness before she reacted.

  He flopped back into the leather armchair and blew out a long breath. Every piece of information indicated she was irredeemable. There was no way back from the hell she had sought, the perdition she lived in.

  And yet…there was something. He had no idea what, but when he stared into her eyes, he didn’t see evil. He saw glimmers of humanity, of fear. Her file indicated she was a bit of a joker, always had a comeback.

  She could have blown his brains out earlier, but she’d calmly handed him back the gun. For some obscure reason, she’d trusted him. It was a small step, but she’d taken it.

  He scrubbed his face and screwed his tired eyes closed. This may just be the case to drive him crazy. They said there was always one. One patient who pushed you to the limits of your capability, drove you insane with their complexity, sent you over the edge because there was no longer any reasoning. Just instinct.

  And every instinct in his body cried out for him to believe in her. It wasn’t just the sexual attraction, and God only knows there was plenty on both sides. As his heart ratcheted up, so did her pulse rate while he was linking her up to the machine. They beat in a nice easy rhythm matched by each other. Perhaps that was it. Death never moved her, but he did. Just as she moved him. It might not have registered on the electronic equipment, but it certainly had registered on his personal radar.

  Too old to be ruled by his hormones, thirty-four wasn’t aged, but he’d have thought with one failed marriage and a child he’d brought up on his own, he would be able to keep control over the situation.

  Barbara’s mere presence upset his entire equilibrium.

  It wasn’t just the intelligent look in her sky blue eyes, nor the elusive feminine scent of her. He tried to convince himself it had nothing to do with her warm satin feel as he’d swept his knuckles across the skin just above her breasts. It was no one individual thing, but the whole package that became the woman.

  She may well break him.

  Coming to his feet, he slapped the file closed.

  Whatever the connection was between her and Emilio, Dominic was certain of one thing. She was at the center of it, the catalyst, but she wasn’t the driving force. She wasn’t the hunter, but surely the hunted.

  Whatever she’d done, he had every faith in the fact she hadn’t done what Strachan accused her of, and right there was precisely the reason someone wanted to spy on them. She needed to tell him what had happened between her and her higher ranking officer that resulted in the death of a woman and her children. She was obviously aware of the deaths, but according to the report, the bodies hadn’t been found until the following morning, by which time, Barbara was long gone.

  Dominic sighed as he closed the door behind him. He couldn’t let her know what had happened with Emilio. She’d be off like a shot, he was certain. What he needed was for Barbara to trust him, and a sight quicker than he would normally expect a patient to develop their trust in him.

  If she didn’t, who knew what damage her secret could cause?

  »»•««

  Fully expecting to find both Zak and Dominic in the kitchen, Barbara paused outside the door and listened to the soft sounds while she inhaled the enticing scent of food. She swiped her hands down her clean black pants to make sure there was no sweat coating her palms and stepped inside the room.

  It appeared Zak had a talent for cooking, and her timing was impeccable.

  “Take a seat, Barbara, you’re just in time.”

  Dominic’s warm tones swept over her, but Zak remained quiet as he placed all three plates on the table.

  Thick, creamy sauce with an abundance of mushrooms coated a tangle of tagliatelli. The spicy aroma swept over her senses to make her mouth water with anticipation.

  “No Emilio?”

  “No.” Both men spoke at once in a heated rush, but as she glanced from one to the other, their expressions wore the same cool blankness.

  Zak shrugged. “He proved unreliable.”

  “Why does that not surprise me?”

  Zak opened his mouth, closed it again, and then turned to grab another plate and serve himself.

  With a quick glance around the room, Barbara noted they’d pulled black-out blinds over the windows, and she couldn’t help but wonder if there was a particular reason.

  She filled her mouth with the food in front of her and almost choked as the heat of chili hit the back of her throat and shot up to scorch the delicate lining of her nose. Eyes watering, she gulped the food down so it could burn her stomach instead of her tongue. With a grateful nod, she accepted a glass of milk from Dominic and chugged it down to douse the fire.

  “Dear God.”

  Dominic’s wicked lips kicked up in a wry smile. “Zak likes his food spicy.”

  Barbara coughed and took another sip of milk. “Zak likes his food straight from the burning fires of hell.”

  Zak continued to eat in silence, but Barbara had the distinct feeling he was on full alert, listening for something. Her senses prickled, nothing to do with the overdose of chili. She took another mouthful of food and chewed this time. Not so bad once her taste-buds had been paralyzed.

  Dominic’s warm fingers touched the back of her hand in what she thought he may consider impersonal, but her pulse staggered a little before it found its rhythm again.

  “I prefer something a little less…heated.” She lost herself in the depths of his sincere gaze. “Perhaps you could cook something up tomorrow night.”

  In her head, she heard the record skid to a halt. She’d almost been had. And she absolutely should have known better.

  She met the soulful glint in his eye and knew for a certainty he did have a sense of humor. In a gentle move, she withdrew her hand from his. “I’m shit at cooking.” She appreciated the disappointment flickering over his features. She stuffed another mouthful of Zak’s overheated fare into her mouth, raised the glass of milk to her lips in a salute, and gave him a sly wink. “This is good. I can live with this.”

  Chapter Six

  “Tell me about your first sexual encounter.”

  Her husky laughter rippled across the room, coming to a sudden stop as he peered at her over the top of his glasses. Their third session and still she didn’t take it seriously. He hadn’t put her back on the Dreampsych Transcender again. She wasn’t ready yet. He shot her a glance. Goddammit, he wasn’t ready. He wasn’t sure he could cope with another dead body, even if it was only interactive.

  Frustration warred with curiosity. There wasn’t enough time to sit back and watch while she developed the trust required to spill her life story. Normally he’d quite happily wait. That’s what his profession did. They waited for the breakthrough, and all his training, knowledge, and experience dictated he should. Under ordinary circumstances, he’d have been content to spend months waiting, but because of the situation, he needed it now. He shouldn’t put her under pressure, but he had no choice. The pressure was already on.

  The little woman who hid her very private personality behind a big attitude and forced humor was not compliant. In fact, so far she’d given him sweet Fanny Adams, and from the sound of it, she was about to give him more shit.

  “Are you asking because of your job…” She leaned forward in her chair, the cerulean blue of a summer sky glowed from her bright eyes, which crinkled at the corners with the impish expression he was starting to recognize. “…or are you just being kinky?”

  She tempted
him with her beguiling smile to join in her fun, but he wasn’t there to have fun. He was there to do a job, and asking about her sex life was his job. Even if he was a little more interested in her answer than he should be. “Barbara,” he kept his tone even and low, in a clever imitation of his Irish father, “let me assure you, any interest I have in your sex life is purely a professional one. As you are intelligent enough to know…” He huffed out a lofty sigh for effect and watched her smile turn to a wide grin. It was worth the humiliation of acting like a grouchy old man just to coax a genuine response from her. The rest of the time she was so controlled, so guarded. “Sexual encounters, especially your first ones, can deeply influence you in later life, which is why I’m asking the question. It’s not out of any personal perversion.”

  She flopped back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest to show how bored he’d made her, but her eyes still sparkled with interest. “Id, ego, superego. I get it. Freud. I can assure you, I don’t have penis envy. I never wanted to be a man. I just wanted to be accepted and allowed to do what I’m good at, and I am good at flying.”

  “Okay. Your flying abilities are not at question here.” He waited a beat in the hope she would hurry up and answer his original question instead of deliberately leading him off track, because he wasn’t sure how much longer he could continue to act patient.

  Just as he was about to give her another prompt, she spoke. “It was quick, messy, and painful.”

  Excellent. She’d chosen to engage.

  “How old were you?”

  “Seventeen.”

  “Do you remember who it was with?”

  “Of course I do. There haven’t been many memorable encounters, but everyone remembers their first, don’t they?”

  “Do they?”

  “Don’t you?”

  “Yes.” He met her gaze and smiled. “It was quick, messy, and painful. I was fifteen and she was nineteen, a friend of my older sister. Suzy. She’d got me so hot and bothered, it was all over within minutes. The painful part was she never gave me a second chance to improve my technique.”

  “Did you see her again?” She was good. She knew how to turn things around. Most people were happy to lie back, relax, and talk about themselves, but Barbara had been highly trained, and he suspected she came with a natural aversion to giving things away. It was probably why she’d been picked as a pilot in the first place, for her superior intelligence, her cool control.

  Dominic thought he’d give her a little more information about himself to see if she responded better.

  “Every day of the whole long, hot summer. I suffered the pangs of unrequited love, until Danielle came along late summer when I turned sixteen to satisfy my libido.” He paused for a moment and then allowed a long, slow smile to slide over his lips as the memory glided through his conscience to soften his heart. “Then there was Vicky, followed by Sharon.”

  “What?” She blinked her surprise. “All in the same long, hot summer?”

  “Yeah.” He sighed out as he leaned his elbows on his desk and cupped his chin in his hands, the warmth of the long-forgotten summer mellowing his emotions but not blunting his thoughts. “How about you? What happened after your first encounter?”

  Relaxed, just as he’d intended, Barbara unfolded her arms, resting her hands on her stomach. “I never had sex for a long while after my first encounter. Course I’d been labelled frigid, and I probably was. Still can be.” There was no display of frigidity toward him. Perhaps she was getting frigid and picky confused, because sexual awareness rolled from her in waves. “Anyhow, I met quiet, gentle Stevie at college, and we spent sixteen months in perfect sexual harmony.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “I joined up. Stevie’s gentle nature couldn’t bear the idea of me taking on such a dominant role, so we parted. Fairly amicably.”

  “Why don’t you like to be called Barbie?”

  Her lip curled. “Because I’m blonde and have big boobs. All the guys at high school called me Barbie because they thought it was funny. I’ve never allowed the name to follow me through my army life. I’m a soldier, not a doll.”

  Dominic raked his gaze over her and understood why she wanted a clear definition.

  “What other relationships have you had?” Technically, it wasn’t his business, he was just curious.

  “None to speak of. It’s difficult when you’re a female in an all-male world. So I kept my encounters purely with civilians. Easier in some ways, but they don’t understand the life.”

  Dominic nodded. He couldn’t agree more. It was how he’d lost his wife. Not that she’d been his wife for very long when she’d left him. The military life hadn’t been all she’d expected it to be. The uniform had been the attraction, but the reality of a husband who spent most of his time away from home had soon taken its toll on his new bride. Of course, they’d never have married if she hadn’t been pregnant. It had been hot and passionate, but they’d have walked away from each other soon enough if it hadn’t been for the baby.

  Lost in his own thoughts, Barbara’s amused voice dragged him back.

  “So, Doc. Did my sex life make me a killer?”

  He smiled at her. She was a bright woman. She certainly knew distraction techniques. She had a unique ability to turn the tables on him. No wonder she’d done so well in the army. Up until now.

  “No. I don’t think so.” He studied her for a moment longer. No, it definitely wasn’t. She didn’t seem to have any sexual hang-ups to particularly affect the way her mind worked. He steepled his fingers and tapped them together as he thought.

  With a decisive move, he came to his feet. “You want to take another go at the Dreampsych Transcender?”

  The flicker of fear was brief, but it was still there. Perhaps the technique was having a much stronger effect than he’d given it credit for.

  He’d keep it light, but the Dreampsych Transcender was the way to go. If she’d shown fear, then the scenario she’d taken part in was much more realistic than she wanted him to know, and very possibly too close for comfort.

  »»•««

  Firelight flickered its orange and red fingers with bursts of golden sparks to light the clear night sky. The soft whicker of a nearby horse was accompanied by its restless stamping of feet.

  “Hey.”

  Barbara stared at the cowboy through the flames of the fire. “Hi.” Behind the covering of the helmet, she grimaced.

  Dominic took too damned long to set up the scenarios. His intros went on forever, as though he needed her to understand every single thing about the situation. He didn’t need to give her an info dump, just set the scene and bring on the shit. She certainly didn’t want this game plan, and there was only one way to stop it before it took hold. She pulled out her gun and shot the cowboy between the eyes.

  “What did you do that for?” His deep voice vibrated through the earphones just before he flicked her helmet up. He didn’t look irritated this time, just resigned.

  “He was the slob in the stables. I didn’t want him pissing on me again, even if it would have been make-believe this time. Although knowing your desire for a realistic set-up, you’d have probably found some piss to pour on me just for fun.”

  Offended, he tugged at his navy blue cardigan. Another from his vast wardrobe of cardigans, it seemed. “I would never do something like that. It’s abusive.”

  Laughter bubbled up through her chest. “You won’t abuse me, but you’ll happily pass me over to the army to be imprisoned.”

  His dark brows dipped for a moment as though he contemplated whether she was serious or not. “It wouldn’t make me happy, but yes, I’d let the army have you if I believed you were guilty of the crimes you’ve been accused of.” From his tone, he’d obviously decided she was.

  “Huh, I think you’d struggle.”

  “You mean you’d put up a fight?”

  She didn’t mean that. “No, I think you like me too much.”

  She fidget
ed at his long contemplation of her. Perhaps she shouldn’t have pressed the point, but she had wondered how easy it would be for him to get rid of her, make her someone else’s responsibility.

  The wintry look as his gaze held hers gave her a clue. “Make no mistake, Barbara, I can and will do my job.”

  Silence stretched long and uncomfortable, until he broke it. “I am on your side. I want what’s best for you, but right now, you’re giving me so little to help you with.” He plucked at his earlobe and stared at the floor. “Do you want another scenario?”

  “Not today.”

  “Okay. Perhaps you can think about next time you use the Dreampsych Transcender, not killing the first person you see, the moment you see them. I’m trying to assess you, and you’re not exactly giving me a lot to go on here.”

  “Dominic, have you tried your own machine? It’s a game. Just like all the other games I’ve played before. It may be a super, fantastic, clever piece of equipment, but it’s not real, it’s for fun, it’s still a game.”

  “It’s not a game, it’s a test.”

  “Well you test it, then. See how real you find it.”

  »»•««

  In the stark uninviting room, he studied the chair, eyes narrowed. He pulled at his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger while he allowed his gaze to meander over the equipment. His Dreampsych Transcender. Advanced far beyond the last version, and yet he’d not even tried it out, convincing himself it was lack of opportunity. He’d made sure he’d trialed the last version, but Barbara had tugged on a nerve. She was right. He should try it. He needed to know what it was capable of, how convincing it could be. If she saw it only as a game, she was never truly going to respond to the scenarios. Perhaps if he tested it, he would be able to set more realistic scenes.

  This machine had the ability to make you face your own demons. Despite Barbara’s claim it was a games console, she was wrong. Or possibly she was just running scared, because she didn’t seem to be able to follow through on the scenarios. Her clever mind simply didn’t give them a chance to get started.