An Aria for Nick (Christian Romantic Suspense) (Song of Suspense)

by Bridgeman, Hallee

  "Fair enough."

  She closed the laptop and set it on the table in front of her, then turned her body to face him. "What do we do now, Nick?"

  Nick lay his head back and closed his eyes, pressing the heels of his hands against them. She could see the fatigue on his face now that he started to relax. "Now I take this stuff in and we assign someone to watch Harrington, get more concrete stuff on him."

  She looked at her watch and realized it was early evening. She stood and looked down at him. "Do you want me to make us something to eat?"

  "That would be fantastic. Thank you." He didn't get up, but he rested his head on the back of the couch.

  She glanced back at him as she left the room, but he hadn't moved.

  ¯¯¯¯

  NICK could see them. There were three of them, sitting around their vehicle, passing around a bottle of something, the guttural sound of their language filtering through the night. One of them laughed at something the other said and lit a cigarette.

  The problem as he saw it, they were in his way. There was no cover for him to go around, and he still had six hours of darkness to move.

  As a cloud shifted and covered the moon, Nick decided to try. He leaned in and whispered to Zimmerman, gesturing with his hand as much as possible.

  Zimmerman in turn whispered in Arabic to the prisoner, warning him not to make a sound. Then the three, as quietly as possible, walked at a crouch. Until the prisoner shouted out.

  The first bullet whizzed by Nick's head. He rolled to a kneeling position, one knee on the ground, one boot flat and gestured at agent Zimmerman to keep his gun trained on their prisoner. He calmly lifted the gun to his shoulder and sighted it, picking the one furthest from him. Their Toyota HILUX sat between him and them. He gambled they would run to his side of the HILUX thinking that it would offer them cover. He slowly squeezed the trigger, and watched the first guy fall to the ground. His friends panicked and ran right where he wanted them. Now he needed to get the third shot fired before anyone realized the second shot hit its target. Hit. Hit.

  Good shot, kid. You just won the state championship.

  He kept his weapon at the ready and slowly headed their way. No one moved. The desert lay silent around them as he searched the HILUX, finding water and some food. He hadn't had anything to drink in over 24 hours. He took the water back to Zimmerman and helped him take a sip. They both knew he probably wouldn't make it back to base, but he spoke Arabic, Nick did not, and their prisoner didn't respond to English.

  "Don't give him water unless he talks to me," Zimmerman said breathlessly. "Can we take the vehicle?"

  Nick looked at it again. "Maybe. There's a bigger risk we'll be discovered in the HILUX, but we'd cover a lot more ground."

  Zimmerman gestured at the piece of metal that had pierced his side. "I don't know how much longer I can make it without medical care. I'm losing too much blood."

  Nick looked at the HILUX, weighed his options, and nodded. "Okay." He bent and helped Zimmerman to his feet. Zimmerman held the gun trained on the prisoner while Nick supported him, which was how they'd covered what little distance between them and the crash site they'd covered for the last two nights.

  Three feet from the HILUX, Zimmerman lost consciousness and the gun fell from his hand. The prisoner took off, hands bound behind his back, running. Nick let the government agent fall and sprinted after the prisoner, tackling him from behind.

  As he hauled him to his feet, he pulled the hood out of his pocket. "You just earned yourself the hood back, buddy," he said, ignoring the prisoner spitting at him as he pulled the hood down over his face.

  NICK woke with a start, his pulse pounding. On the outside, he did nothing more than open his eyes, but inside he waged a war with fear and panic. He forced his pulse back to normal and got his bearings. Aria's place. He looked at his watch. Six-thirty. He'd slept for about half an hour.

  The room was filled with a soft orange glow from the setting sun coming through the window facing west and the entire home was filled with the aroma of cooking meat. From the direction of the kitchen, he could hear Aria humming a hymn.

  A wave of longing washed over him, leaving him feeling weak and scared. He clenched his hands as he fought it while he cursed himself. This was not for him. A normal life in a little bungalow on the Willamette River was something he could never have. After the things he'd done, it was something he didn't deserve. The dream had just left him feeling vulnerable.

  He stood and stretched, then went to the phone. He started to engage the receiver, but changed his mind. Tomorrow would be soon enough to return to the world. For now, he wanted to shut it off.

  He walked toward the kitchen and leaned against the doorway, watching Aria while she was unaware of it. She moved around the kitchen, chopping vegetables, stirring something on the stove, moving around the room but never looking behind her. She had to get a little stool out to stand on so she could reach something on a high shelf. Nick was reminded just how small she was. He thought of his old man and how he'd put his hands on her, had broken her wrist and killed her future. Suddenly, Nick felt a white burn of righteous indignation re-ignite somewhere in his chest. He battled the desire to go to Columbus, Georgia; to reacquaint himself with his father as a grown man and discuss the variable forces involved in breaking the wrist of a petite blonde woman.

  Shaking his head to rid himself of the darkness, of the pain of his past, he crossed his arms and leaned his hip against the bar. She stepped off the stool and turned, jumping a little when she saw him.

  "You move very quietly," she said.

  He raised an eyebrow. "One of the reasons I'm still alive."

  She nervously shifted her feet. "Hungry?" she asked.

  He was hungry. A raw, burning hunger that spread through his whole body. What he craved, he couldn't take. Time had done nothing to dim the want, and what had once been a boy's crush was now a man's longing. On the inside he began a battle with himself that he hoped he would have the stamina to continue fighting. On the outside, he stayed leaning against the bar with his arms crossed, giving the appearance of total ease.

  "Starving," he said smoothly.

  "Good," Aria said, moving to the stove. She opened the oven door. "How do you like your steak?"

  "Cooked."

  Aria laughed and looked behind her. "Well, I can see that you will be easy to please with food. Unlike my brother John, who almost requires a Cordon Bleu chef to cook him a proper meal." She grabbed two pot holders from the kitchen counter near the stove and reached in, pulling out a pan with two sizzling steaks on it. "You can go ahead and sit at the table, and I'll bring your plate."

  Nick pulled out a chair and sat at the wooden table with the bowl of green apples in the center of it. The east wall of the kitchen was a window, looking out into the green Oregon trees. "Is John still a cop?"

  Aria brought him a plate filled with steak, seasoned new potatoes, and green beans. "Yep, still in Atlanta. He's a detective now. Do you want a water, or some tea?"

  "Tea's fine." He let her serve him, pouring him a glass before sitting at her own plate. He reached out, his palm up, almost surprised when she put her delicate hand into his. He watched as she bowed her head and closed her eyes. Absolute contentment washed over him at the thought of sitting in this little kitchen with this woman he had always loved, holding her hand, and blessing a meal with her.

  He cleared his throat and prayed as he always prayed — simply and to the point. "Thank You, Father, for another day. And thank You for this food. Amen."

  "Amen," Aria echoed before she picked up her knife and fork.

  Nick took a bite of the steak and felt like he'd died and actually been transported to heaven. Another one of the little luxuries that gets taken advantage of, he thought, was a perfectly cooked steak. "What about your other brothers?"

  "Henry is a doctor in Virginia, and Adam is making movies in California. Did you see Leading the Way?" Aria asked as she took a sip of her tea
. Nick shook his head. "Anyway, that was the most recent one he wrote and directed. He's becoming pretty popular."

  "The last movie I remember seeing was Harry Potter," Nick said, slicing off another piece of meat.

  "Which one?"

  "What do you mean which one?"

  "Which Harry Potter?"

  "I guess the first one, because I don't know what you're talking about." Nick took a sip of tea.

  "Where have you been?"

  Nick shrugged. "Here and there. Mostly there, come to think of it." They ate in silence for several minutes. He wanted to ask her about his father and what happened, but he didn't know how to start the conversation. Instead, he enjoyed every single bite of this meal she had prepared for them.

  He speared the last potato on his plate with his fork and popped it in his mouth. "Do you have a computer I can use? I need pull up some information, do some research."

  "Sure," she said. "Whatever you need."

  I need you. The thought was there before he could control it and, angry with himself, he pushed back from the table and went to the other room.

  ¯¯¯¯

  Chapter 12

  ARIA rinsed the last dish and put it in the dishwasher. She added soap, shut the door, and turned it on. She could hear Nick a room away, occasionally hitting the computer keys. She wanted to go in there but she was afraid to see what he was looking at. Buck up, kid, she thought to herself, you're the one who opened this can of worms. Now you need to see it through. She lifted her chin and went into the front room.

  He'd switched on the lamp on the little desk in the corner, but the rest of the room remained in darkness. Aria suddenly felt the need for light, so she walked through, switching on lamps and flipping on the main switch.

  "What are you looking for?" she asked, coming up behind him.

  "Peter Harrington. Anything I can find, really," he said. "This is his employment record. I've already gone through banking and tax returns as well as his SF-86 on file in e-Quip." He clicked a few more keys. "You know, his daughter is a piece of work. One more demerit, and she's out of that private school he has her in."

  "How do you know that?" Aria moved a stack of books off a chair sitting against the wall, set them on the floor, then pulled the chair closer to his.

  "I pulled up her records. Care to guess what the tuition cost is to send a kid to Saint Catherine's?"

  "More than what I pay in mortgage," Aria declared. She watched his fingers move with ease over the keys. Nick was no stranger to computers.

  "The annual tuition of that school is about a third of the claimed income on his tax return last year," Nick conveyed.

  "Then how could she have gotten accepted?"

  "Probably with the money he tried to hide in an off shore account. It didn't even take me long to find it." He clicked a few keys on the keyboard and said, "I need to get into his office."

  Aria shook her head. "Impossible. The security is way too tight."

  Nick turned so he was facing her but quickly held a finger up. She opened her mouth to ask what he was doing when he put the finger to his lips. When he did that, she listened more closely and heard the sound of an engine shut off and seconds later, a car door slam. Nick turned quickly and shut the lid to the laptop, then stood and picked up his duffel bag off the floor near the couch.

  Nick moved through the room toward the hall. "If that's Harrington, let him in." He disappeared down the hall and she heard the bathroom door shut.

  When she heard the knock on her front door, she almost jumped. Little butterflies of nerves danced in her stomach when she looked through the front window and saw Peter's car. Aria took a deep breath and slowly released it, then opened the door. "Peter. What are you doing here?"

  "May I come in?" he asked. Aria stepped back and let him enter.

  "Why weren't you at work today?"

  "I had some unexpected personal business come up. Tom didn't seem to have a problem with it," she said, watching him pace the room. He was always uncomfortable in her home.

  He finally sat down on the couch and began to tap his finger on the arm. "What kind of personal business would keep you from going to work in the middle of a major project?"

  Aria felt her back straighten, and had to tamp down on her anger. "That is certainly my business, Peter."

  "I've tried to call your cell phone a couple of times today."

  "Oh," she said, pulling her phone out of her pocket. "I had it on silent. It's been kind of a crazy day."

  "My daughter wanted to see you before leaving for spring break this weekend." He gave his watch a nearly dismissive glance.

  "I'm not sure —"

  The door to the bathroom opened, and Nick came out. Aria watched him come through the doorway of the room, noting that he was moving differently, and the look on his face made him almost unrecognizable. He looked as if he was startled to see Peter, then walked over with a welcoming smile and his hand outstretched. "Hey man. Harvey Castle."

  Peter stood and took Nick's hand a bit warily. "Peter Harrington."

  "Nice to meet you." Nick shook Peter's hand then ran a hand through his suddenly longer and blonder hair. "You a friend of Aria's?"

  "Yes." Peter sat back down. He looked over at Aria with obvious questions in his eyes. "Aria and I have worked together since she first began at NWT."

  Nick nodded, "Cool, man. Cool. Oh wait! You're that Peter. Dude, that's awesome."

  "Ah, so Aria has mentioned me." Peter sounded relieved.

  "Of course, man. Hit me up." Nick extended his fist and held it at Peter's eye level. "Go on, man. Don't leave me hangin' here. Pop the potato."

  Looking completely uncomfortable, Peter bumped fists with Nick. Nick quickly snatched his hand back, simultaneously opening his fist and making an exploding sound. Then he shook his hand as if Peter's punch had hurt and let out a low whistle of admiration.

  Peter recovered from his obvious shock and asked, "How is it that you know Aria, Harvey?"

  Nick slouched in the chair near the couch, hooking his ankle on his knee, giving the appearance of relaxed nonchalance. Aria realized that he had also changed his clothes. He now wore a pair of khaki shorts and a T-shirt that had a drawing of someone surfing on the back. He was barefoot. He had tied canvas bracelets on his wrist and had small hoop earrings in both ears. His eyes looked bloodshot and puffy.

  "What's with all the formality, man? Call me Harv. Or Rook. Get it? Like Castle is a rook in chess? Or Glow-stick, but dude that's a long story. You kind of had to be there."

  Barely moving his lips, Peter asked, "How do you know Aria, Harvey?"

  "Oh, Aria and I go way back, man," Nick said, finally answering Peter's question. "I've been down in L. A. working with her brother. We're on a break so I'm on my way to Hawaii to catch some serious waves at Laniakea in Oahu. Full moon, you know? Decided to pop in on her this morning, hoping she'd let me crash on her couch for a few days 'til my plane leaves." Nick pulled a worn pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. "Hey, man, got any flame? I left mine somewhere."

  Peter sat very regally. "I don't smoke. And I can't imagine Aria would allow it in her home."

  Nick shrugged and put the cigarette back, throwing the pack on the table in front of Peter. "It's all good, Petey. Those things'll kill me one day, anyway."

  Aria was desperately trying not to gape. The change in Nick absolutely amazed her. If she had seen him like this the first time, she never would have recognized him.

  "Hey, dude! I almost have Aria convinced to hit the town with me tonight. There's a reggae' band I want to see playing at the Silver Squirrel. It's gonna' be killer! Why don't you tag along, dude?" Nick asked.

  "No." Peter stood and looked at Aria. "Thank you. Apparently, I've interrupted your reunion. Are you free tomorrow?"

  Behind Peter's back, Nick gave a subtle shake of his head. "I'm afraid not," Aria answered, "Harvey and I already have plans."

  "Well, when you get done playing, give me a call." Peter went
to the front door and Aria followed. She opened the door for him, and while at this point he would typically give her a small kiss, he instead looked behind her, toward Harvey. Without a word, he pivoted on his heel and left the house, shutting the door behind him. Nick immediately appeared at her side. When they heard the sound of Peter's car start, he went to the window and watched him drive away.

  Aria felt nervous laughter bubble up in her chest. Before she could control it, a giggle escaped. She slapped her hand over her mouth to try to contain any more, worried if she started laughing she'd end up in some hysterical heap on the floor. Nick gave her a rare smile before going back to the sitting area. As he sat in the chair, he slid the wig from his head and pulled a contact lens case out of his pocket. In seconds, he'd popped the contacts out of his eyes, dropping them into fluid in the case.

  "That's why you looked so different," Aria said.

  "I have unusual eyes," he said, rubbing them. "Early in my career, I was told that I should always disguise them. People tend to remember eyes that are the color of mine."

  Aria silently agreed. "Do you have to disguise yourself often?"

  Nick shrugged. "Whenever it's necessary."

  "You don't like to talk about yourself much, do you?"

  "I've never really had anyone to talk to about that subject," Nick said. He looked at his watch. "I have an errand to run. Do you mind if I stay here, or would you rather I went back to the motel?"

  Aria stood and went to her desk. "I don't mind you staying here." She pulled open the top drawer and rummaged through it. "Here's a key. I'll leave the chain unhooked."

  Nick took the key from her and went back to the bathroom again, coming out with his duffel bag. "I'll probably be gone for several hours. If Harrington decides to test us and comes back or calls, tell him that Harvey went to see that band, but you didn't want to go with me." He put his hand on the doorknob. "Don't forget to refer to me as Harvey. Harvey Castle."