Jae's Assignment

by Bernice Layton

  So far nothing and no one stood out as a potential threat.

  After a quick glance at her watch, she saw it was time to make her approach. She would express interest in hooking up with him. It was the ruse to get him out of there.

  But he was enjoying the music and smiling. Good Lord! His head bobbed along with the saxophone player. Jae guessed he liked jazz as she caught the occasional movements of his fingers.

  Jae assessed him as he moved closer to the edge of the dance floor. She also noticed the heads of several women following him appreciatively as he passed by their tables.

  He’s not bad looking, she thought cynically. He was even sexy one might say and he caught her eye and captured her attention in a way that sent a rush of heat to her face. But that definitely hadn’t been the case a couple of months ago. Then, he’d been a hairy, nerdy, dry wheat toast researcher. He’d never cracked a smile and whatever music he liked was his own business and heard only by him through the earbuds of his iPod glued to his big ears, which she thought now didn’t seem too big for his head. He’s…really good looking, she thought, running her eyes over his muscular arms and athletic physique. Who knew? But she hadn’t been sent to his office to get to know him any more than was necessary.

  She caught a hint of a smile he flashed, she almost flopped back against the wall as a sensuous flame settled in her chest. There was definitely a tenderness in his eyes that sent shivers down her spine. Her gaze then halted on his lips. Sexy and full, and damn if he didn’t just lick them, causing her pulse to beat erratically. Oh, this wasn’t good. This guy is a total turn-on, she thought, recognizing the telltale ever-tightening knot below her belly button, and she had to look away from him, embarrassed and flushed. She commanded herself to remember why she was there, but when she caught his stare again, her heartbeat hammered in her ears. Ah shit, I don’t have time for this, she thought, I have to stay focused.

  When the musical selection ended with applause, Jae moved closer, but had to cringe against the shrill whistles that mingled with the applause.

  Jae found it disconcerting that she was drawn to him. No. She wasn’t drawn to him but the overtime money she was earning while on R&R. Maybe this could be a great ending to her current special agent classification. She just knew Grainger would give her a glowing recommendation when she officially requested the reassignment to cyber crime. The position involved less travel and more benefits. It was a win-win in her mind. All of that made the completion of this assignment that much more special to Jae.

  As she continued to study Grant’s profile, Jae heard that another band selection was ending in applause. Shocked that she had been gawking at the doctor that long, she glanced from right to left self-consciously and spotted someone she hadn’t seen before. The man was watching the doctor with an intensity that put her on alert.

  Urgency to get him out solidified when she saw there was something peculiar about the man. It made him an immediate threat.

  Grant was now out in the open as several couples left the dance floor. Squaring her shoulders and painting a smile on her face, Jae sauntered over to him.

  “Would you like to dance?”

  At first, Trevor wasn’t sure the woman was talking to him. He looked around before returning his attention to her. He’d spotted her at least three times already, but this time was up close, and she was even lovelier.

  Unfortunately, as tempting as her offer was, he couldn’t take a chance. He could see himself getting caught up with her, dancing and missing his contact. “Well, as enticing as that sounds, I’ll have to pass,” he said pleasantly and touched the back of her hand, which clutched a small black sequined purse. “Maybe another time…definitely another time,” he murmured, before looking over her head of wavy hair to the entrance of the jazz lounge.

  “Not even a quick dance?”

  Trevor noticed her looking behind him. Maybe she was checking out her next potential dance partner. Before he could respond to her question, she said, “I insist we dance…Dr. Grant.”

  Trevor immediately stepped back. “How do you know my name?” He was on guard, but not alarmed as he repeated his question.

  “Listen, Dr. Grant, we need to get out of here now.” Urgency raised her voice as she continued to look behind him and when she reached for his arm, he pulled back from her grasp.

  “No, you listen. I don’t know who you are or how you know my name, miss, but I’m not going anywhere with you. Now, if you don’t mind.” Trevor stepped around her just as the band started a lively upbeat selection that sent a rush of people to the dance floor.

  Trevor had been trying to get around the woman, who kept blocking him and forcing him back to the dance floor, now filled with moving bodies. “Sweetheart, come on now,” he chuckled. “As much as I’d like to, I really can’t dance with you and truthfully, I’m getting a little scared of you,” he teased, then glanced at her profile.

  She wasn’t smiling. Her eyes seemed transfixed as she stared straight ahead, and still she inched him farther back onto the dance floor. He could feel the heat and tension coming off her body.

  Following the direction of her unflinching gaze, Trevor looked up and froze. He spotted a man with a blank expression and his arm going into his jacket. “Oh, shit,” he whispered.

  The woman turned and pulled him through the throng of dancers, but when he pulled back again she turned to him. “I’m your contact, JR, now haul ass,” she shouted above the music then all but shoved him across the dance floor, heading to the terrace exit.

  Shocked at what she’d said, but letting her pull him along, Trevor replayed her words. “What? Wait, you’re—” He didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence before what sounded like a firecracker suddenly went off behind him.

  Over the music, the sound didn’t immediately register until a woman at the bar screamed, “Gun!”

  Trevor barely maintained his balance as everyone in the lounge started to panic. When he reached for her arm, the woman who’d identified herself as JR pulled a deadly-looking handgun from her black sequined purse. In the rising noise, he heard her order him to stay behind her. She protectively backed him away from the man with the gun. He noticed the man’s expression wasn’t blank. It was psychotic. He recognized the look.

  Suddenly, JR took aim and fired a single shot. She hit the man squarely in the right shoulder. As the bullet tore into the man’s arm, he howled and spun around, dropping the gun. His look of total surprise and confusion went by the crowd because when her shot rang out, pandemonium erupted.

  The crowd was shoving and pushing between JR and the shooter, forcing her farther back to the patio and toward the exit. Straining to look over the heads of the moving mass, Trevor lost sight of the shooter through the swarm of bodies and guessed that if he couldn’t see the man, maybe the man couldn’t see her either. JR’s gun was still at the ready.

  Trevor couldn’t believe what was happening. One minute he was enjoying the music and holding a beautiful woman’s hand and the next minute he was in the middle of a stampede with gunfire and people screaming and running. In all of the confusion, Trevor became trapped in the mix of pushing, shoving bodies, all heading to the exit door. Turning, he frantically searched the crowd until JR gaze locked with his. He managed to find an open space, letting the crowd sweep past him. She finally caught up to him. When she was close enough, he grabbed her arm, pulling her into the space with him. When she acted defensively and whacked his forearm with a backhanded chop of her small right hand, Trevor was taken aback by the pain.

  Around them the noise was deafening. The space was filled with sounds of furniture and glassware being trampled, and above all of that was the wailing of approaching police sirens.

  When Trevor released her arm, JR grabbed his sleeve; her head moving left and right, apparently looking for another way out.

  This time Trevor pulled away from her, forcing her t
o stop and look up at him. “I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me what the hell is going on!” he shouted over the din.

  “Listen, Dr. Grant, my name is JR and I’m a special agent with the FBI. I was sent here to get you to safety. That man was trying to kill you and I don’t know if there are others here waiting their turn to shoot at you, so we can’t stay here, got it?”

  Trevor glanced around the still dimly lit room but all he could see were people trying to get out. Nobody seemed to be taking any notice of them. Remembering that Myers and Jones had also claimed to be FBI agents, Trevor shook his head, refusing to move.

  Throwing up her hands in exasperation, JR snatched the front of his polo shirt in her fist and pulled him down from his six feet so that they were eye level. “Dr. Grant, I promise I will answer all of your questions, but not here and not now! You can trust me. I’m here to protect you. That man was willing to shoot you inside of a crowded lounge. We need to go right now!”

  Still not entirely convinced, Trevor decided at least for now he would go along and give her the benefit of the doubt. After all, she’d put herself between him and the shooter. “Okay, but let me grab my backpack. The bartender is holding it behind the bar for me.”

  Seconds later, JR slipped inside the “Staff Only” door with Trevor close behind her.

  Keeping a watchful eye to make sure they weren’t followed, they found themselves in a storage room that led to a loading dock. JR started in that direction then suddenly winced and doubled over. Pressing her hand to her side then pulling it back, she stared blankly at her hand that was now covered in blood. “The shooter missed you, Dr. Grant, but he didn’t miss me,” she said angrily through gritted teeth.

  Trevor pulled her hand away so he could see the wound and then immediately looked around the room to see what he could use to stanch the blood. He spied packets of cloth dinner napkins wrapped in plastic on a shelf. He grabbed one of the packets, ripped it open, and pulled out a handful of the napkins. He pressed them against the wound. He applied as much pressure as he could without hurting her even more.

  It didn’t help that the woman removed her weapon and rested her right forearm over his shoulder, aiming at the door should the gunman come after them. It also didn’t help when she sucked in her breath as he had to press hard on the makeshift bandage.

  Glancing into her eyes, he saw that she was frightened, but still in control. “It’s not fatal, but it’s not a nick, either. The bullet went right through; some muscle damage but nothing permanent.” When she dropped her arm and started walking to the back door, he told her she needed get off her feet or she was going to bleed to death.

  “No, we have to keep moving.” JR held the makeshift bandage in place with one hand and pushed open the door. “My car is this way. We need to leave before the cops arrive and follow the blood trail.” To emphasize her point, JR pointed to the puddle of blood on the floor.

  Shouts and squealing tires could be heard from the other side of the door leading to the platform. But they still had to worry about the possibility of someone coming into that room from inside the lounge, where they could still hear screaming and running.

  Trevor didn’t waste any more time. He tossed the rest of the opened pack of dinner napkins onto the floor, then shoved carts stacked with dishes and coffee cups across the floor and up against the door. It would slow down anyone trying to come in. Hurrying over to where she stood looking out the door, he already knew she was in no shape to drive. He removed her hand from the makeshift bandage, took once glance, and knew she needed immediate medical attention.

  “Give me your keys.” It wasn’t a request and she must have sensed that when after a span of five seconds, she reluctantly fished the keys out of her small black purse and handed them to him. “Which is your car?” She pointed to a red Mustang.

  Shrugging off his jacket and draping it over her shoulders, Trevor wanted to laugh. The jacket fell just below her knees but it was long enough to effectively cover the blood-soaked bandage. Supporting her arm to keep her from falling, he guided her steadily down the platform to the sidewalk. The Mustang was fifty feet away but she managed to keep up with his long strides. He helped her into the passenger seat, where she moaned painfully and slumped over. Hurrying around to the driver’s side, Trevor got in, started the car, and eased it into the merging and chaotic traffic, moving away from the hotel. He averted his gaze when the second wave of police vehicles careened into the hotel’s back parking lot where she’d parked her car.

  Chapter Three

  Jae slowly opened her eyes to find herself in the passenger seat of her Mustang. The car was idling in park and for a second she didn’t know where she was.

  As she struggled to sit up, an excruciating pain shot through her side, instantly bringing everything back: the Clarkston Hotel, the lounge, the shooting. Grant! Where was he? Did he escape while she was passed out?

  Gritting her teeth against the throbbing pain, she looked out the window and saw that the car was parked near the front entrance of a twenty-four-hour pharmacy.

  Through the glass doors, she spotted him walking down an aisle with a red plastic basket hung over his arm. He’d stopped and tossed several items into the basket. Sighing in relief, she was thankful he hadn’t run off and left her sitting in a running car passed out and bleeding. But she did recall telling him that he could not take her to the hospital or call the local cops.

  Everything had gone wrong with this operation and she knew she was going to catch hell for it and deservedly so. She would get no sympathy for getting herself shot. Grainger would demand answers and her teammates would never let her live down that she’d been rescued by her assignment.

  How the hell would she explain that she let precious time slip by because she’d been daydreaming about the doctor’s blue eyes and sexy body? Her delay in reacting to the immediate threat had almost got him killed, not to mention she’d put innocent civilians in danger. Damn. She was in so much trouble. Groaning and closing her eyes, she rolled her head to the cool glass of the window. She must have passed out again because the next thing she knew, Grant was getting into the car and tossing several bags onto the backseat. He must have known she’d come to because he asked how she was feeling. His deep voice resonated within the small space of her Mustang, forcing Jae to roll her head toward him. “I’m great, and you?”

  Only after snapping the seatbelt in place and putting the car in gear did Trevor respond. “I’ll bet you thought I was going to run out on you, didn’t you?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer. “I wouldn’t do that. At least not until I get some answers first. I will reiterate that you need to go to the hospital; however, I know that wouldn’t be a good idea for either of us since doctors are required to report all gunshot wounds.” When he mentioned he’d picked up some pharmaceuticals so that he could patch her up, Jae could barely open her mouth to speak, but she did hear him when he’d told her not to worry because he knew what to do.

  Jae was so lethargic she could barely register what he was saying much less respond to it. It took every ounce of effort she had to keep her eyes open. But eventually, his voice faded away and her last thought before darkness closed in around her was getting the message to Grainger that she was down.

  * * * * *

  “What the hell?” Trevor murmured quietly as he propped himself up against the wall of the motel room. Although exhausted, he hesitated dropping his weary body in the chair, which could fold out to a single bed.

  As a licensed physician, he couldn’t and wouldn’t just leave her. He hadn’t operated on anybody in a long time, not since the end of his residency, just before he’d advanced his medical degree and studied psychiatry. Yet now this woman was his patient and he had to care for her medically.

  He also had questions for her when she came to—a lot of questions.

  He’d given her a mild sedative to lessen her pai
n and discomfort so that he could clean, suture, and bandage her wound. Regrettably, that task proved to be more complicated for him when he’d removed her blood-soaked top and wrapped a towel around her torso. He’d been careful of the black bra she was wearing but he had to fold the towel under the band of her bra and that’s when she started coming to, ready to fight. Her right hand shot up and she started choking him, while her left hand fumbled with the pillow. Her frantic movements dislodged the makeshift bandage, causing the wound to bleed again, all the while he’d been struggling to keep her flat on the bed. But her pleas for him to stop were hard for him to take.

  He had no other choice but to increase the sedative. To do that, he had to keep her lying flat on the bed while dodging her punches to his chin and grasping the syringe lying on a towel on the nightstand. One quick jab into her backside and she immediately was out.

  Rubbing at the still sore spot on his chin, Trevor lifted himself off the wall and walked across the room, dropping himself down into the chair beside the bed. He thought of the times he’d done that at a patient’s bedside, only to doze off.

  The motel room he’d rented a couple of days ago wasn’t the best place to perform the type of surgery the woman needed but under the circumstances he didn’t have a choice after she had passed out in the car. Since going to a hospital was out of the question, he’d found a motel on the outskirts of Richmond, and by the time he’d carried her up to the second landing and inside the room, she was bleeding heavily. He’d been forced to close up the wound in order to save her life. He recalled that she’d saved his as well by blocking him from the shooter.

  Glancing at his watch, he estimated she would remain under sedation for a few more hours. It was just enough time for him to grab a couple hours of sleep.

  Trevor’s eyes were already closed and his body slumped in the chair when that thought entered his mind.