by Joy Jenkins
"Is there a reason you feel the need to announce that you have a question?" he asked, not bothering to look over.
She flung her pencil into the air and watched as it twirled before catching it again. “No.”
"What's your question?"
"What is your opinion on Mr. Philips?" she asked.
"Who says I have one?"
"Because you're human, everyone has an opinion on everyone and everything. What is your opinion?"
"Not on everything."
"Try telling the internet and social media that. So tell me."
Donovan glanced at her. "Do you want my opinion or impression?"
"Impression."
"Why say “opinion” if you meant “impression”?"
Carter held up the pencil. “Stop being pedantic and tell me or I will find somewhere to stick this pencil that will be very uncomfortable.”
Donovan snapped the pencil in two. "Make a more realistic threat next time."
Carter didn’t point out the fact he had delivered two weapons instead of one. As Donovan went back to his equations, Carter secured another pencil and tossed it again.
"Is there a reason why you don't want to tell me your impression?" she asked.
He stayed motionless for a second in thought. "He is a teacher with vast knowledge of the inner workings of the political system. Teaching was not his first choice of occupation. He was probably blackballed from politics and for that, he has a bitterness towards anyone in office. What he did, I don't know and this is merely an educated guess based on what I've seen and heard him talk about.”
"That's what I came up with as well."
Carter threw the pencil in the air, watching it flip over and over along with her thoughts. The library settled back into silence, only whispered words breaking it. Diana bustled through the rows pushing a book cart.
"Did Mr. Philips's mood strike you as odd today?" she asked.
"Not in the least. He was in the same mood that he is always in."
"But what about his whole speech of Presidents and the weight they hold and their secrets will be found out crap." The pencil spun upward. "That didn't hit you as unusually hostile, even for him?"
She caught the pencil and then let it fly. As it fell, Donovan snatched the pencil from the air. She raised an eyebrow. “Well?”
"Well, what?"
"Did his talk of Presidential transgressions strike you as odd?"
"He was bringing up a valid point."
"You believe that he was correct?"
Donovan nodded. "I do. Men in leadership positions should be held to a higher standard for the mere fact that their mistakes, if ever made public, could cause a lot of unnecessary problems. In this day and age, nothing stays secret."
"You think eventually the truth of..." Carter gestured to Link's open backpack, "will come out?"
Cautiously, Donovan scanned the library and lowered his voice. "For his sake, I hope it never does. But there are enough people who have problems with Presidents that it might. For now, no one knows and he is safe."
"Do you think if someone knew they would try to act on that knowledge?"
Resigning himself to the conversation, he tossed his pencil onto the table. "It depends on the person and what sort of history they have with the president."
Carter gave him a thoughtful look and snatched his pencil, resuming her previous occupation. "Do you think anyone here knows?"
Donovan rocked his chair back on two legs, placing his laced fingers behind his head. "As far as I'm aware? No, no one besides you.”
She pursed her lips, skeptical.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing."
"Carter," he said, dragging out her name.
Catching her pencil and pointing it at him. "You don't think Mr. Philips possibly knows?"
"What is it with this interest in Mr. Philips?"
"I'm making conversation.”
"No, you're making speculations."
"Fine, I'm making speculations. But I don't think they are unfounded."
Doubtful, Donovan folded and Carter held up her hands blocking his thoughts. “Hear me out. When he was talking about transgressions he looked at Link."
"He's a teacher, he looks at everyone while he is talking."
"When you first arrived, he was surprised to see Link. Doesn't that strike you as something?"
Donovan regarded her. "Do you feel the need to give everyone ulterior motives?"
"Only those who have them," she said. "I was right about the both of you, wasn't I?"
"Now that that mystery is solved, you find the need for a new one?"
Pulling her legs off the table, Carter dropped her chair to all fours, twisting to face Donovan, earnest. "I'm not out to solve some mystery. I could care less whether Mr. Philips has ties with the Russian mafia. What I care about is what I saw and heard and whether it holds any weight."
"That's all you want to know?"
“Yes,” Carter breathed out. She might not have the title of bodyguard for Link but that didn’t stop the protective instinct she felt for him.
He gave a slow nod, relenting. "Alright, I understand that. The thing is, there is not a lot he could do even if he did know."
"You mean besides exposing Link and the President."
"How?"
“Documents."
"There are no hard copies that tie them together."
"Even money?"
"They're run through different channels."
"Photos of Link.”
"What would that prove? One, there are ways to alter photos so no one could completely believe it. Two, you have a lanky kid with brown hair and glasses, who vaguely looks like his father when he isn't wearing them.”
At Donovan’s quick answers, she guessed these were all aspects and weaknesses he’d visited before. But still, she wasn’t ready to let the subject drop just yet.
"Photos of them together," she said.
Donovan raised a patronizing eyebrow. "Need I remind you he hasn't seen him since we've been going here and even if he had, there is no possible way to get those pictures. I don't even know the destination until half an hour before. The places have all been enclosed and impossible for snipers to get a clear aim. How could he?"
Quietly, Carter ran through every possible scenario she could but found counter-arguments for each one. Donovan watched her, a small smile on his lips. When Carter came out of her head, his smile disappeared, replaced by his normal impassivity. "Come up with anything else?"
"Yes. But for it to work Mr. Philips would have had to have some sort of military training."
"Which he doesn't have.”
"Which he doesn't have," she echoed.
Looking down at the floor then back up at Donovan, her eyes held hints of worry. "He's safe?"
"He's safe. Even if something happened, I’m here to get him to a secure location."
They didn't speak, Carter gazing out at the library, Donovan gazing at her.
"What brought this on?" he asked.
She shrugged, forcing herself to seem unconcerned. When she started to respond, he held up his hand. "If you're going to lie to me, don't say anything."
Embarrassed, Carter dropped her eyes, fighting a grin. But as she searched for the answer to his question, her expression sobered. “Today I saw how vulnerable he is. And it’s strange to admit it but I care about him. I don’t ever want to see him hurt.”
"It's not crazy,” Donovan said gently.
Carter held in a laugh. "For you, maybe. But the sensation is something new to me. If you haven't noticed, I don't have any friends to spare."
"True. But the ones you have aren't going anywhere."
She didn't say anything, everything she felt in the moment conveyed in her small smile. Suddenly unable to hold her gaze, Donovan reclaimed his pencil and ran it over his fingers. “So what brought your father here today?”
Carter waved her hand flippantly. "Oh, some signal going out. It was
a glitch, that's all."
Donovan stopped twirling the pencil. ”How is he doing?”
The question warmed Carter, hearing the touch of compassion in his voice. "Good. The sling came off the other day. Physical Therapy is starting up today and the doctors say he should be fully recovered in three months. Honestly, I'm happy that he is still behind a desk for now."
"Will he be there for long?
“Hopefully, for the rest of his time in the service."
"How much longer does he have?"
Carter let out a low breath as if the time were a physical weight that she always held with her. "About four months.” A myriad of emotions swirled in her, each of them playing across her face, the final one being worry.
"What does he plan to do afterward?" Donovan asked, trying to tear her from her burdening thoughts.
"I don't know. But something where he's not taking bullets for someone else. He has mentioned taking up a training post in the Navy SEALS but he hasn't settled on anything yet."
"Well, I'm glad he is recovering."
She dipped her head, accepting his sincerity. The rattling of wheels grew louder as Diana stepped out from one of the rows with a half-empty cart. A thought struck Carter.
"Diana," she said, barely needing to raise her voice in the quiet.
Diana redirected her cart and stopped in front of the table. She pointedly stared at Donovan's tilted back position and he lowered the chair and crossed one ankle on his knee
"Diana, do you know how long Mr. Philips has been at the school?” Carter said, saving Donovan from a verbal rebuke.
Donovan shot her a look, which she ignored.
"Mr. Philips," Diana said, her voice distant as she sorted through memories. She brightened as the right memory clicked into place. "He started working here about five years ago. I remember because it was the fall when Douglas was announced as the next President.”
"Really?" Carter asked.
"Yes. Why?"
She shook her head and slid back in her chair. "No, reason. Just curious."
Diana pushed on, leaving Carter with Donovan and his very loud thoughts. "I was merely curious," she said. "It just makes your point more clear. He couldn't have even known about Link if he was out of politics by the time Douglas was getting elected."
"Are you happy now?"
Carter nodded, though doubts tugged at her mind.
Chapter 38
The rowdy shouts of boys welcomed Carter as she entered the deli. At the counter, Maggie scrawled on her notepad, letting the family be as boisterous as they liked since they were the only customers.
"Hey," Carter said, announcing her presence.
Maggie offered her a tired smile. "Hey, girly."
"You free to talk?"
At the question, some of Maggie's weariness melted away. "I need a break and you are a perfect reason to take one." Carter scuffed her shoes on the floor so Maggie didn't see her smile and how much her words affected her. "I'll grab cookies."
Dodging shouts and called names, Carter took her usual booth in the back. Sliding in across from her, Maggie laid down a napkin and a cookie. She let out a breath and sank into the booth.
"Long day?" Carter asked.
Maggie dramatically widened her eyes. "It wasn't too bad, just constant. I'm ready to be off my feet."
"You should come over to the apartment tonight. We could watch something.”
"A romance?" Maggie teased.
"Or I could teach you how to assemble a gun."
"Don't worry, Steve already taught me.”
That brought Carter up short. "When did this happen? That wasn't what you were doing last Saturday, was it?" She put her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. "You never did tell me what you were doing over so late.”
Maggie looked unamused even as she flushed. "I was spending time with an overprotective friend as he waited for his daughter to come back from a party. Her first party, I might add. He doesn't know how to handle you going off to events. This is uncharted territory. I was giving him moral support."
Carter broke her cookie in half with a half-concealed smirk. “Sure, if that's the story you're going for. We'll see what Captain says and whether your stories line up.”
Though she joked, Carter hoped there was more to it. Her father deserved someone as kind and loving as Maggie.
"Grown-ups can be friends,” Maggie laughed.
"Alright, but you should know he is now a free man and won't be available forever."
"I'm willing to debate that, you're his daughter. I'm not sure any woman could come within ten feet of your father without you interrogating them.”
That was definitely true. “Good thing you’ve already made the cut. You should use that to your advantage."
Maggie sobered as she leaned forward on the table. "Hon, you understand that I care for you and your father deeply, right?"
"That was never a question.”
A piece of Maggie's smile returned. "Then know that I put both of your happiness first. Your father is not in the place to be with anyone new, not with what just happened with your mother."
Carter knew Maggie had a point but Carter wanted nothing more than for her father to move on, to let go. But she also knew a man who had waited four years in the hope his wife would return wasn’t going to let go quickly. She only hoped Maggie would still want him when he finally decided he was ready to find happiness again.
“Joking or not,” Maggie continued. “Know that I will do nothing about this. Not until he is ready for it. And you are ready for it."
"I’m ready. You can date Captain whenever you want. You have my full approval."
The smile came home to Maggie. "I'm happy to hear that.” She propped her chin on her fist. "Now, you never told me all about the party. And how it went with Donovan."
"Yes, I did. I said it was loud, crowded, and full of unintelligible drunk high schoolers. What more did you need?”
"You didn't say how it went with Donovan."
"We didn't go together in that sense."
"Still, you like him, right?
What type of question was that? Of course she did. Him and Link were the only people at school she did like.
“You know I do.”
Maggie pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh. “I mean do you like him more than a friend?”
"Do I prefer his company over the majority of the male populace at school? Yes. Do my hormones go into overdrive and my brain takes a nap when he is around? No."
Grinning, Maggie did a small dance, seeming more like a best friend than a mother figure. "You do like him.”
Carter fought viciously to keep her smile in check. "Did you not hear what I said? I don’t like him. He just doesn't make me feel like punching him every time he opens his mouth.”
"Oh, I heard what you said. But my hearing is selective and I translate things differently."
"That is obvious."
"What I heard is you found a man that meets your standards."
Carter scoffed. "I don't have standards."
"You do, girly. High standards. Your father set them and no one will ever meet them. But it seems Donovan is getting close."
Carter did smile at that, thinking of how Donovan could read her, how he was trained to defend himself, and how he could assemble a gun in under a minute.
"I see that smile," Maggie said.
Though Maggie’s love life was an acceptable topic to discuss, Carter decided hers was not. Not that she had one. Because she didn’t. Donovan was only a friend.
"That was for no reason at all,” she said.
Though Maggie smiled more reservedly, her eyes still beamed with mischief. "Sure, you smile like that about every peer you talk about."
Carter ate the rest of her cookie so her face wouldn't betray her further. Someone called out to Maggie, ending her break.
"I'm glad you are letting people in," Maggie said. "Even if it's only to the point where you aren
't inclined to punch them."
When Maggie left, Carter stared out the window, forcibly not thinking about Donovan. When her attempt failed, she waved goodbye to Maggie and hurried home. Her father’s car sat in the driveway and when Carter opened the door, she found him at the dining table. His suit jacket hung over the back of a chair and he wore a look of fatigue. Her heart clenched as he lifted his head and wiped away his obvious exhaustion.
“Are you okay?” she asked, taking a seat at the table.
Her father straightened, his face unreadable. "Of course, I'm fine. How was school?”
Carter tried to ignore the prick of hurt at his concealment. “Fine. Are you sure?”
“Sarge, I’m fine.”
Though he offered a reassuring smile, it appeared brittle to Carter and she didn’t understand why.
"Did you get everything worked out at the school?" she asked. "Was it a glitch?"
"Yes, we believe so. We are sending in a tech crew to double check."
"Was that the only reason you were there?” She wondered if something else in the school was suspicious but he didn’t want to alarm her.
"What other reason would we have?"
She sensed him holding back. "I don't see why there needed to be three of you for a simple check-up job."
"We were also checking the security tunnels and updating something in the system," he said.
"Which was...?"
"None of your concern."
Carter sent him a challenging stare that he met.
"How did physical therapy go?" she asked.
When her father abruptly rose and moved to the kitchen, Carter felt a sinking in her gut.
"It was fine," he said.
Carter twisted in her chair, observing the tension in his back. "What's wrong? Did everything go alright? Nothing bad has come up, has it?"
Without turning around, he answered. "Sarge, I said it was fine."
Something was wrong. "You might have said that but your body language says otherwise. Captain, what's going on? You can tell me-“
“Carter!" The curt tone cut through Carter.
Carter sat stunned, feeling as if someone had punched her heart. Letting out a breath, her father ran his good hand through his hair, without looking at her.
