by Tiffany Snow
He took my invitation, his tongue sliding against mine, and I whimpered deep in my throat as I molded myself against his body. One of his hands stayed in my hair while the other arm wrapped around me, holding me tightly.
The kiss turned into hunger and need, my hands sliding up his back to hold him close, and I tuned everything out but him – the hardness of his body, the smell of his skin, the slight abrasion of his five o’clock shadow, the demands of his mouth and tongue.
“Oh my! Excuse me!”
The startled voice and slam of the door caused me to abruptly return to reality and I tore my lips from Blane’s. I would have stepped back, but his arm tightened, holding me in place.
“Who was that?” I gasped, trying to get my breath back as my heart pounded in my chest.
“Clarice,” Blane replied evenly, his fingers brushing my cheek.
I was annoyed but not surprised to see him unruffled by our interlude or its interruption, though his eyes blazed as he watched me. He released me and I moved a safe distance away, self-consciously combing my fingers through my hair, hastily repairing the disarray Blane had inflicted.
He went to the door and opened it. “Come in, Clarice,” he called. She stepped inside the room, a huge grin lighting up her face when she saw me. I recognized that smile and inwardly groaned. I knew I was going to have to listen to her enthusiastic optimism about Blane and me all the way to picking up my car.
Blane stepped into my personal space again, and I swallowed as I looked up at him.
“Stay safe,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing my jaw.
“No worries,” I said, forcing a smile. I hated the fact that someone was using me to get to him; he had enough on his plate without worrying about me.
Blane turned to Clarice. “Make sure Hank or another security guard walks you to your car.”
“Yes, sir,” she agreed.
I grabbed my purse, threw one last look at Blane, and followed Clarice down the hallway.
Hank readily agreed to see us safely to her car and before long she was dropping me off at the tire repair shop. I was surprised, Clarice had actually been good and not gushed about Blane and me, though that satisfied grin of hers remained as we chatted.
“Can I still see those files?” I asked.
“Absolutely,” she said, “They’re all in the conference room for you. His older case files are in storage in the basement. The keys are in my desk, if you need them.”
“Thanks, Clarice,” I said as I got out of the car. “And thanks for the ride, too.”
“No problem!” she said cheerily. I waved to her as she drove out of the lot.
Unfortunately, the tire had to be replaced, and I wasn’t surprised to hear that the tire had a gash in it. The mechanic told me it looked like it had been slashed. No accident then. I decided to keep that information to myself. It took a while before they were finished and I impatiently wiled away what was left of the afternoon waiting.
As I wrote the check to cover the bill, my mind drifted longingly to the twenty thousand dollars Kade had given me. I’d thought long and hard about what to do with it. Finally, I’d decided to report the money, which had meant I’d had to pay taxes on it. After the government took their rather large chunk, I’d decided to send the rest to pay against my mother’s medical bills. Her fight with cancer hadn’t been very long, but it had been expensive, and it was a relief to know I’d be able to keep the creditors off my back for a while with the large lump sum payment. But sometimes, like now, I really wished I’d kept some of it to pad my checking account.
The only thing I hadn’t been able to resist doing was buying a pair of shoes, as Kade had told me to. Though no doubt he would roll his eyes in derision at my choice – a pair of sky-high peacock blue heels I’d been coveting for months at Nordstrom’s. They’d cost more than my entire paycheck, but I hadn’t been able to resist splurging. I also hadn’t worn them, leaving them in their box in the back of my closet.
I'd never told Blane about the money Kade had left. I didn’t know how he’d react if he knew about it, and I didn’t want to find out. He'd want to know why Kade would do that, and I had no answer to give him. The gesture had bewildered me, Kade's motives were a mystery. It wasn't as though it was going to be repeated and the money was spent, so what was there really to tell?
It was after three by now and I was hungry. I’d given all my cash to Frankie to cover the cab ride so I’d skipped lunch. I swung by the grocery store, grabbing one of those shrink-wrapped pre-made deli sandwiches and a Pepsi, before heading to the firm. If I wanted my life to get back to normal, I needed to see if there was anything I could dig up on this case of Blane’s or any of his old cases.
After checking in with Diane, who had no further deliveries for me, I headed up to the seventh floor. True to her word, Clarice had left the files in Blane’s conference room. Several boxes sat on the table, all filled to the brim with papers. I grabbed the nearest one and started digging.
I ate as I read, some of the files and motions unrelated to anything I was looking for, though I wasn’t positive what that even was. Hours passed. I found confirmation of what Clarice had told me. Kyle Waters was a highly decorated professional warrior who had enlisted and then re-enlisted with the Navy, serving three tours in Afghanistan and Iraq. Married once with no children, his ex-wife had divorced him after he re-enlisted.
There was a file for each of the people on the prosecution and defense witness lists. I read through them carefully. Three other SEALs had been on the same mission with Kyle: Ron Freeman, Brian Bowers and Staff Sergeant Troy Martin, the CO.
Kyle had been court-martialed after the incident, but had been found innocent of any wrongdoing. Looking through the witness list, I saw Brian Bowers was scheduled to take the stand in a few days. I jotted down where he was currently staying for the duration of the trial. Maybe he would have some insight into who might be trying to kill Blane. Thinking along the same lines, I added Ron Freeman’s name and current residence as well.
In reading Staff Sergeant Troy Martin’s file, I saw he had a girlfriend named Stacey Willows who happened to live north of Indianapolis in Carmel. Although Martin had already shipped back to Iraq, Stacey was on the list as a character witness. Perhaps she might be worth talking to as well. I wrote her address down, too.
Now I had three people I could talk to who might have some insight into who would be targeting Blane, and consequently, me. It was better than nothing.
The comment James had made about Blane still bothered me. That could definitely be taken as a threat. Maybe I should be looking further into what he might have meant by that. I turned the idea over in my head, wondering if I should pursue it. I decided to put that on hold for tonight. James was a dangerous guy with even more to lose now.
I wanted to go downstairs and review some of Blane’s older cases, but I was tired, the words on the page blurring as I read. With a sigh, I returned everything to their proper boxes, tucking my list of names and addresses in my purse. I flicked off the lights, making sure the conference room door was locked as I pulled it shut.
It was still and silent outside, no one around at this late hour, and I could see my breath in the cold. I hurried to my car, a faithful blue Honda that had over a hundred thousand miles on it, but thankfully ran like a top.
As I unlocked the door, a weird sensation came over me and I paused, glancing around uneasily. The parking lot was empty of vehicles, yet I searched the darkened corners. The trees and bushes surrounding the building loomed as silent, dark sentinels, their depths impenetrable in the night. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched. It was creepy and unnerving.
I scrutinized the trees until a sudden movement made me jump, startling a brief scream from me. Then I blew out the breath I’d been holding as a deer came bounding out of the trees, leaping gracefully over a hedge and disappearing into the darkness.
Good lord, I was going to give myself a heart attack. My heart was p
ounding and adrenaline was making me shake. Obviously, the photographs and incident over the weekend were having a larger impact on my peace of mind than I’d thought. With a snort at my own paranoia, I climbed into the car and headed home.
It was late and the apartment building was dark. I had a pang of guilt when I thought of Tigger being home by himself all day. He wasn’t going to be happy. I climbed the stairs, my eyes on the ground to make sure I didn’t misstep. I walked wearily to my door, flipping through my keys for the right one.
“Hey, Kathleen.”
My head jerked up in surprise. A small, dark figure stood outside my door.
“I thought you weren’t ever going to get home.”
I narrowed my eyes as I peered into the darkness. The voice was familiar, as was the scent of cigar.
“Who’s there?” I asked.
The figure stepped into the dim light. My keys fell from my fingers in shock.
CJ, the girl who had both saved and betrayed me, stood staring at me.
Chapter Five
CJ was obviously freezing, despite her casual words, so after she’d stubbed out her half-smoked cigar, I brought her inside. Perhaps not the wisest thing to do, given what she’d done, but she looked very young and very frightened. Of what, I had no idea.
I gave her a blanket and she huddled on the couch with it wrapped around her while I made some coffee. It was a little late for caffeine, but I had a feeling I was going to need it. I handed her a cup and she thanked me while I sat down next to her and waited for her to speak.
“I know you’re probably wondering why I’m here,” she said, fixating on the mug she held with both hands instead of looking at me. “I’m surprised you let me in, actually. Well, maybe not,” she amended, “you’ve always been too nice to people.”
“Too nice to people who don’t deserve it?” I asked, my voice bitter.
She winced. “Yeah, maybe.” She took another sip of her coffee. “I’m sorry about before, Kathleen, I didn’t want to do what I did.”
Her voice was thick and I was shocked to realize she had started to cry. The CJ I knew, cigar-smoking, gun-toting, friend-betraying CJ, never struck me as someone who cried. Ever. Even now, with her straight black hair, dyed red streak still intact, numerous piercings and all black clothes, I couldn’t believe she was crying.
“Hey,” I said anxiously, taking the cup from her hands before she spilled it. “It’s okay. Everything turned out fine. I wasn’t arrested or anything.” I patted her shoulder awkwardly.
She nodded and roughly wiped her cheeks, taking a deep, shuddering breath.
“So why did you do it?” I asked, once she’d regained control. “Why did you change the code so the election results would get routed to China of all places?” It was a question that had been bothering me for weeks.
“I can’t talk about it,” she snuffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve.
“What do you mean you ‘can’t talk about it?’ Then why are you here?” I asked, my voice harder than I had intended. I didn’t want to make her cry again, but I thought I deserved an explanation.
“Because I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” she said baldly. “Some people, bad people, are after me. I can’t go home. I’m afraid they’re going to kill me.” Tears started leaking from her eyes again, but I don’t think she even noticed.
I knew I should stay angry with her, but my heart wasn’t in it. I didn’t know what she’d gotten herself into, but I believed that she was afraid.
I grabbed a box of tissues from the bathroom and gave them to her, waiting while she blew her nose and wiped her eyes. Black streaks from her makeup now marked her skin, which made her look even younger. She’d never told me her age, but she couldn’t have been more than nineteen, twenty tops. Despite what she’d done to me, I felt bad for her.
“Who’s after you?” I asked much more gently. “What did you do?”
She shook her head. “Anything I tell you would just put you in danger, Kathleen,” she said resolutely. “I spent hours just making sure I wasn’t followed here.”
That made me pause. I already had someone stalking me, I didn’t need someone else with an ax to grind knowing where I lived.
“I’ll understand if you kick me out,” she said, interrupting my thoughts. “I just really needed a place to stay. Just for tonight,” she added hurriedly. “I won’t be in the way or anything, I swear.”
“Don’t you think I deserve more of an explanation,” I said, “especially if you’ve brought trouble to my doorstep?”
She hesitated before finally saying, “It’s illegal, what I did, really bad. But I did it for my family, and I’d do it again. I never meant for you to get hurt, Kathleen. You were the only friend I’d had in a really long time and I’m sorry.”
I thought about it, but I knew in the end that I didn’t have it in me to turn down her plea. I wanted to ask more questions, but thought I should wait until morning. She seemed exhausted and agitated.
“Okay,” I said with a sigh, “you can stay.” There was no way I was going to kick her out to make her own way on the streets, and I believed her story. CJ had always seemed very capable, despite her age, but her guard was down now, leaving her vulnerable.
“Thanks, Kathleen,” CJ said gratefully, and she visibly relaxed. “I really appreciate it.”
CJ took a shower while I made up the couch with linens and a pillow. She ate a sandwich I made for her, barely able to keep her eyes open and yawning constantly. Soon, she was tucked under the covers, sound asleep. I watched her for a moment, thinking it felt somewhat like having a little sister, which was kind of nice. Considering what she’d done, I probably shouldn’t be feeling so protective of her, but after the events of the last few days it felt good to help someone else for a change rather than just worrying about my own neck. And she had saved me twice – once from James and once from Blane and Kade.
I knew CJ said she was only going to stay the night, but I hoped I’d be able to convince her to stay longer in the morning once she’d had a good night’s sleep. Maybe there was some way I could help her, or maybe Blane could - Lord knew he had friends in high places. The comment she’d made about her family concerned me. I couldn’t imagine what they could possibly have to do with her espionage attempt.
My sleep was uneasy, nightmares of being chased through the darkness as I tried to find Blane haunting me. I could hear his voice, but couldn’t find him, a faceless figure behind me getting closer and closer. I jerked awake, my heart pounding. Then I realized the pounding was coming from my front door.
Hurriedly slipping on some knit shorts to go with the old t-shirt I slept in, I headed for the door. I jerked to an abrupt halt when I saw that CJ was no longer on my couch. The sheets and blanket had been neatly folded and I saw a piece of paper sitting on top of the stack.
Thanks.
-CJ
The pounding came again and I crumpled the paper in my fist, worry gnawing at me that CJ had gone before I’d had a chance to talk more with her. I looked through the peephole and saw Alisha standing there holding her dog.
“Thank God you’re awake,” she said with relief, pushing past me into my living room.
“How could I not be with the racket you were making?” I snorted, rubbing my tired eyes and closing the door on the frigid air from outside.
“I need a favor,” Alisha said, not sounding the least bit sorry as she set Bits on the floor. He proceeded to start sniffing the carpet. I watched the dog warily. He seemed very interested in my furniture now. I prayed he wouldn’t pee on anything. My furniture was leather.
“What kind of favor?”
“I need you to watch Bits for a few days.”
“What?!” I jerked my attention from the sniffing dog back to Alisha. “I have a cat, Alisha,” I said. “Dogs and cats do not get along.”
As if to prove my point, Bits suddenly spotted Tigger who was lying on the back of the couch, eyeing the newcomer through half-closed eyelid
s. The dog began to bark excitedly. Tigger didn’t bat an eye, but started licking his paw, dismissing the noisemaker entirely.
“See what I mean?” I said loudly in exasperation, motioning to the scene.
“They’re just meeting for the first time,” Alisha protested. “They’ll be fine. Listen, I have to go back home. My grandma is sick and needs someone to stay with her for a few days. My mom can’t, she has to work, but I can take some time off to take care of her.”
“Why can’t you take the dog with you?” I knew where this was going and was scrambling to find a way out.
“Because she has a dog, too, and they really don’t get along,” she said. “I’m afraid he’ll hurt Bits. Please, Kathleen,” she entreated, “I don’t want anything to happen to him and I trust you. You’ll take care of him for me. Please?”
“What about a kennel?” Last ditch effort.
“Those cost a fortune,” Alisha said, “I can’t afford that.”
She looked at me, her eyes hopeful. The dog was still barking. Dammit.
“Fine,” I relented, throwing up my hands. “I’ll do it.”
Alisha beamed at me, but I pointed my finger at her. “But you owe me,” I said, with as much force as I could muster before my first cup of coffee.
She nodded quickly, smile still intact.
“Here’s his schedule,” she said, pulling a folded paper from her pocket. “His food, leash and pillow are right here.” She opened the door and dragged in a stack of items.
“Schedule?” I asked, bewildered. I skimmed the paper, wondering what I’d gotten myself into. The paper was legal size and full of writing.
“He likes to stay on a schedule,” she insisted, putting a huge, hot pink dog pillow in the corner. “Don't forget to add a little chicken broth to his food. He likes it moist, not dry, but don't put too much liquid like cereal - it should be more like chunky soup. Serve it promptly at 7 AM and 7 PM in the glass bowl I brought; he doesn't like metal or paper containers. He needs to go outside 3 times every day at 7:30 AM, 6:30 PM, and 10 PM and you have to say 'Go toodles, Bits. Go toodles for momma!' in a high pitched voice or he won't know what to do. If there is snow, you have to dig out a little area where he can see the grass. That is very important - the grass and toodles part - because if he doesn't toodle on the grass then he will toodle on your bed. At night he needs two dog treats and a drink of water, then point to his pillow and say 'Go nee nee, Bits, Go nee nee.' Otherwise he will stay up all night and pace and whine. If he barks three times in a row that means he wants to look out the window; you'll need to pull back the shades so he can see. On Tuesday nights he likes to watch Hollywood Dawgs on the Animal Planet channel. I think he has a crush on Sandy, the surfing Siberian Husky. Any questions?” She took a deep breath, the first in several minutes I think, and raised her eyebrows in inquiry.
