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Jae's Assignment

Page 8

by Bernice Layton


  Sitting on either side of Trevor, Tarsha and Ronnie sang out. “Look, it’s Sweetie!”

  “Good morning, dear. Come to the table,” Elaine Randall said, rising to give her daughter a kiss on the cheek before going to the stove to fix her a breakfast plate. “Trevor stopped by to see you and the poor man was going to wait outside on the back porch until you awakened. Well, that would never do. We had to practically force him to come inside and have some breakfast. I told him we’d never let a friend of our daughter do that.”

  Hearing her mother’s tsk, tsk, tsks, hit somewhere in Jae’s mind, prompting her to move her feet. She couldn’t seem to get her brain and her body in sync to obey her desire to scream and throw something across the room. It didn’t help matters when Nina sashayed over to her, clucking her tongue with a cunning smirk of a smile on her face. With her shrewd eyes shifting from Grant then back to her, it wasn’t hard to guess what Nina thought. All the while, Jae was wondering how the hell he’d found her.

  Swallowing her intense rage and exasperation under these extreme circumstances, Jae forced herself to act as normally as she could. But when she stole a glance at her father’s lifted eyebrow she almost lost it. She was saved when Ronnie jumped up and took the seat their mother vacated. She had no other choice but to sit next to Grant.

  “So, what brings you here?” she asked him through gritted teeth that could have passed as a smile except her eyes were blazing with fury. So much so, she envisioned several tae kwon do moves that would render the doctor in a hell of a lot of pain.

  “I came to see you, Jae. You look well and rested,” Trevor said, his eyes dropping to her injured side before he leaned over and brushed a chaste kiss to her hot cheek and lingering there long enough to press his cheek to hers. Her right hand dropped in her lap and balled into a fist just before her mother set a plate of blueberry pancakes and bacon in front of her.

  When her mother ushered everyone out the back door, reminding them it was time to leave for Sunday church service, she also added for everyone to give Trevor and Jae some privacy. After the clinking of breakfast plates, cups, and utensils being stacked into the dishwasher, her parents were the last to rush out the back door. Each called out farewell, before reminding Jae to start the dishwasher after putting their plates inside.

  Jae was relieved they’d all been too polite to ask any questions in front of him, but their curious eyes, sly snickers, and toothy smiles were enough to send her crawling beneath the thirty-year-old kitchen table. She was positive she was in for the interrogation of her life when her family got her alone.

  When the cars pulled out of the back driveway, Jae got up from the table, marched over, and slammed the back door closed. Next, she pulled the kitchen curtains together so hard, one curtain ring snapped off the hook, causing the curtain to hang lopsided.

  Returning to the table she shoved her plate of food away and loomed over the doctor. She could barely contain her anger. “What the hell are you doing here? Have you lost your freaking mind? I can’t believe you pulled this shit, Dr. Grant. This is where my family lives and you have no right whatsoever to come here. We’re not friends or colleagues!” Her voice rising to the point her mouth was becoming dry and she fought to lower it. When he only stared back at her, she inched closer to him. “Let’s get something straight so there is no misunderstanding, you shithead. I’m an FBI agent. You are an assignment and it is my responsibility to keep your dumb ass alive until you become somebody else’s headache. But you do not come to my parents’ home or interact with my family, you understand what I’m saying to you?”

  Stopping to catch her breath, Jae gripped the edge of the table, staring down into his blue eyes as she tried to expel some of the anger from her chest. To his credit, the doctor didn’t interrupt. But to some degree yes, she wanted him to say something asinine so that she could punch him in his chest.

  “Look,” he started. “I probably shouldn’t have come here, but I was going stir-crazy in that room and the couple next door—” He stopped, sending her a meaningful look before trying again. “I really needed to get out of there, so I took a chance by coming here and I do apologize for just dropping in like this.” When she begrudgingly sat down, he continued. “I didn’t mean to upset you and I certainly don’t want to bring any harm to your family. They seem like very nice people and your mother was kind enough to invite me in and offer a delicious breakfast to a perfect stranger. You look just like her, by the way.” Trevor dared a smile and then stopped when she scowled at him. When she didn’t bat an eye, he raised his hands in surrender. “I really am sorry. It was inconsiderate of me and I beg for your forgiveness.”

  For the longest time they sat silently, staring at each other until finally Jae gradually relaxed her posture, but now her side was throbbing and she couldn’t hold back a painful groan when she crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Let me check your wound,” Trevor said, lifting the edge of her pajama top.

  Jerking away, Jae swatted at his hands. “I’m fine. I told them I had a fender bender trying to avoid hitting a squirrel.” Suddenly, the ridiculousness of that explanation hit her and although she was still angry at him, the corners of her mouth twitched in spite of herself. Then recovering she asked how he’d found her.

  “I have my sources,” he said, but when she eyed him suspiciously, Trevor confessed. “Okay, I checked your purse when you were asleep at the motel. Besides your wallet and weapon, there was a folded bachelorette announcement for a Rhonda Randall with rsvp’s to be sent to this address. I had to know if you were being honest about who you were and since we practically broke the sound barrier racing to get back to Richmond, I assumed you were related and took a chance. So…here I am.”

  Jae gaped at him. What kind of agent was she? How could she have been so careless leaving the announcement that led him to her doorstep? Who knew for sure if whoever was after him hadn’t followed him there? Feeling a rush of urgency, she got up and looked down at herself. She was still in her pajamas. “Dr. Grant, we need to get you to safety, pronto. Give me fifteen minutes to change and we’re out.”

  “All right, but you need to eat first. Elaine cooked a lovely breakfast,” he said.

  “That’s Mrs. Randall to you,” Jae enunciated and sent him a pointed look, frustrated with herself because just before she’d come down the stairs, her thoughts were on him, wondering how he was doing, and she recalled dreaming of him last night too.

  “But she told me to call her Elaine and I insisted she call me Trevor,” he said, standing and waiting for her to sit down. “Please, eat something. It’ll help you.” When she eased down he smiled.

  Jae frowned when he slid her plate forward. “Look, my assignment—”

  Trevor cut her off. “Yes, we know about your assignment. But, I think we can both agree that your assignment may have strings attached that will surely put me in a pine box quicker than I had planned.”

  “Dr. Grant…” Jae picked up the cup of coffee her mother had set beside her plate.

  “You know you can call me Trevor. We’ve shared a motel room. Twice.”

  Halting as she brought her coffee cup to her lips, Jae cringed inwardly when it suddenly reverberated in her head what Ronnie and Tarsha sang before leaving. “Sweetie.” Oh, God. Shooting another look of annoyance, Jae asked what, if anything, had he told her family.

  “I told them to call me Trevor, also.”

  Exasperated, Jae smacked the table with her palm. “Cut the crap. What did you say about…?”

  “Us,” he finished with a chuckle.

  Jae set her cup down. “There is no us. Now, what exactly did you say to them when you asked if I lived here?”

  “Well, Elaine and Drew told me you did then they invited me in.”

  “Yes, yes and…” Jae tried to hurry him along, but her stomach was already sinking.

  “That’s when your mo
ther, Elaine,” he emphasized to her vexation, “pulled me inside, introduced me to everybody, and invited me to have breakfast. We all were talking and Ronnie told me about her upcoming wedding. She’s going to make a beautiful bride.”

  Oh, damn! “What were you all talking about?”

  “This and that; the weather…and you.”

  “Me? What about me?” Jae hoped he hadn’t mentioned anything about her being an FBI agent.

  “Well, you don’t know how to ride a bicycle.” He grinned. “Really, Jae?’

  His teasing was lost on her. “Dr. Grant,” she stifled an irritated moan.

  “Trevor.”

  “Fine, Trevor. Did you say anything about what I do or my job?”

  Trevor studied her for several seconds before responding. “When Ronnie mentioned how glad she was that you’d taken the entire week off from your nonprofit job for the bridal shower, the bachelorette party and wedding, that was all I needed to hear to realize they don’t know you work for the FBI,” he finished in an exaggerated whisper.

  Hearing that, her mind relaxed to reflect on the information in his dossier, or rather the lack of information. But back then they hadn’t known he’d been in the witness protection program. She and her team speculated that the money for his research was most likely terrorist-funded. Jae stood suddenly and felt the floor tilt beneath her feet. Waves of nausea and lightheadedness forced her to grab hold of the back of his chair.

  Trevor instantly reached for her. “Have you been taking the medication I gave you?” To her yes head nod, he asked when she’d taken it last.

  “Before I came downstairs this morning,” Jae said with effort.

  “I told you to take it on a full stomach. Did you change the bandage like I showed you?” When they’d arrived in the motel room yesterday afternoon, he’d inspected the wound before she went into the bathroom to shower and change into the black dress she’d purchased earlier.

  “I would’ve eaten breakfast this morning, but then I saw your face.”

  Trevor lifted her pajama top. Fresh blood had seeped through the bandage. “I need to change this, preferably upstairs where you can lie down.” With one hand steadying her, Trevor rolled up a blueberry pancake from her plate and gave it to her. “Eat this,” he ordered.

  Although she could have done it herself in the upstairs bathroom while propped up on the vanity, Jae allowed him to open her pajama top to clean and change her bandage. Not that she would admit it, but she liked the feel of his strong, skilled hands tending to her. She couldn’t hold back a gasp when she glanced at the angry-looking wound held together with black sutures. His face suddenly was level with hers as he assured her that the swelling and some blood seepage was normal. So why am I fixated on his black eyelashes framing his eyes?

  Once again, she watched how he cleaned her wound and applied the antibacterial ointment he’d had in his backpack. Looking beyond his shoulder while he tended to the wound, Jae noticed the scent of his aftershave. Wafting up her nose as he moved about, the smell blended with the almond-like motel soap he’d obviously showered with. It was annoyingly pleasant. His hands touching her skin were feather light so as not to cause her additional discomfort, and each time he glanced up at her, Jae averted her eyes, uncomfortable that she’d been staring at him.

  When he resumed his task, Jae let her mind drift to the many times she’d fallen and skinned her knee or elbow. Her mother or father was always quick to kiss the area and make it feel better. It always did, she recalled. Sliding her eyes to the top of Trevor’s head, she frowned. Certainly she wasn’t expecting him to kiss her boo-boo, but her side did feel a lot better when he buttoned her pajama top just then.

  “All done,” Trevor said, lifting his eyes to hers and catching her watching him again. “It looks good and thanks to my skills at suturing, there will hardly be a scar as long as you’re careful,” he said, about to lift her up from the bathroom vanity.

  Jae bristled at his outstretched hands. She didn’t like it before when he’d hoisted her up there in the first place, but it seemed necessary for the height and better lighting. “I’m good,” she murmured, dropping one foot down to the floor, then the other. When he stood gawking at her in the shrinking space of the bathroom, she thrust her chin up. “What’s with the stupid look?”

  “Huh? I didn’t know I had a stupid look.” Trevor watched as she twisted her lips. “I was thinking you handle pain very well, Jae. Is that part of your FBI training, or are you too stubborn to let pain get the best of you?” he asked, pulling the bottle of medication from his backpack and dropping it into her hand. Spotting a decorative paper cup dispenser above the vanity, Trevor pulled one down, filled it with water, and passed it to her. After watching her wash the pain pill down, Trevor followed her out of the bathroom, down the hallway and into her bedroom. “Are you going to answer my question?” he asked.

  “Both,” she said, turning to him. “So, tell me, Trevor, how is it that you’re so proficient at surgery and wound care? Surely, you weren’t required to perform that type of medical care on soldiers with adjustment issues,” she said, turning and giving the universal sign of quotation marks before sitting on the side of her bed.

  Trevor crossed the room and sat in the window seat before answering her question. “Yes, I was required to heal soldiers mentally as well as physically. To understand the psychological issues of soldiers, I had to become one. I joined the Marine Corps and learned firsthand what the troops had to deal with. My own experience in the Corps only strengthened my resolve to succeed with my research and hopefully end a lot of unnecessary suffering. But prior to that, I was a medical resident at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. I was accepted into medical school right after graduating with honors from college, but before completing my residency, I saw that I was treating the wrong parts of the body. Broken limbs, missing limbs…yes, most of that can be healed, but if the mind doesn’t accept that the limb is missing, there can be no acceptance of what is. You follow me?”

  Hearing him speaking with such passion and conviction, Jae felt her own resolve weakening. “Yes, I follow you. But I imagine the medical field was your initial calling?”

  Suddenly he stood and he walked over to the dresser, picked up a large bag of chips, and held it up in silent question.

  “Help yourself.” Watching him open the bag, Jae noticed the sullen and faraway expression now etched on his face. She’d seen that same look when she worked in his office. The only difference was he’d often rub at his beard as if he hated it. Oddly, she thought he was much more handsome without it. “Don’t eat all of my barbeque chips,” she said with an eye roll when he winked at her and returned to the window seat.

  Jae got right to the point. “Dr. Grant…Trevor, I’ve been doing this job for a while now and I’ve never had one go sideways like this before. I need to work backwards a little bit to try and make sense of what’s going on. To start, when you went into the witness protection program, was your bio falsified that you were aware of?”

  “There was a tiny element of truth, but yes, the majority of it was bogus.”

  “That takes some high level manipulation to make something like that happen.” When he simply shrugged his shoulders, Jae felt the hair on her arms stand up. “If that is true, then your case must have been given priority that runs pretty high up the chain.” She watched him study a potato chip before slowly putting it into his mouth. “Was your research funded by terrorists, or by some Middle Eastern group?”

  “Neither. Is that what the FBI believes?”

  Jae didn’t answer. “Where did your unlimited funding come from?”

  Trevor leaned forward making eye contact with her. “Do you think I’m a traitor to my country? That I would take money to create an army of unstoppable soldiers that could pose a threat to US troops, men and women whom I’ve fought alongside in the trenches, eating with them one minute,
then seeing them barely clinging to life the next? If you do, that’s bullshit and we are wasting our time here,” he said angrily. “It was approved funding to further a research project I began that involved soldiers’ mental health,” Trevor added.

  “So where did the money come from?” Jae asked quietly after several long seconds of silence. “You said it wasn’t a terrorist group and let’s say for the moment that I believe you, you have to admit that it sounds suspicious that with a simple request and application to expand your research, you get awarded unlimited funding.” When he started to protest, Jae raised her hand to silence him. “Come on, Doc. You can’t be that naïve. You’re a smart guy. You know how our government red tape works. Nothing ever happens that fast. Trust me, there’s always red tape. There aren’t scissors big enough to cut through it. Yet your research project moves to the head of the line; so forgive me if I’m a little skeptical about your patriotism, and the fact that people are trying to kill you. It all makes me wonder what else is going on with you. I’m an investigator and I’ve heard more stories than I can count, so talk to me. Let me see the whole picture here.”

  Hesitantly, Trevor told her all about his research on the soldiers, ending with how he’d had to run for his life when he found out that a group of extremists wanted his formula to fashion their own brand of supersoldiers.

  Sighing deeply, Trevor set the bag of chips down beside him and shook his head slowly.

  “All I wanted to do was improve the lives of soldiers returning from the battlefield emotionally scarred, traumatized, and suffering from PTSD. I also wanted to help those soldiers re-enter society as fully functioning citizens. For the soldiers who were redeployed, I discovered a method of combining medication, using a specific formula that I’d worked on over several years. It included hypnotherapy. My goal was to make them mentally stronger, more focused, and strategically better soldiers, not create supersoldiers to be killing machines. But it wasn’t quite ready yet. It still needed more work and more testing.”

 

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