by H. L. Wegley
“I may have a major headache in progress, but don't you mean tight as a drum?”
“You ever play a banjo, Jeff? Or changed the head?”
“Nope.”
“Well, the head's tighter than a drum.”
“You sound like Yogi Berra.” Jeff shook his head, then winced from the pain.
Allie stroked his head, then shot Wes a glance. “I'm staying here tonight, too.”
Wes shook his head. “It would be better if you—”
“No. You have to protect Jeff here anyway, so I won’t be a burden.” She pointed across the small room. “I'm staying in that chair. It reclines.”
Cliff stuck his head in the door. “An overnighter, huh? I'm going to coordinate some things with hospital security, Wes. You can deal with that subject. It's right up your alley.”
“Guess I have to chaperone you two, even with Jeff in the hospital suffering from a gunshot wound and a concussion?”
Allie gave Wes a weak smile. “I promise not to run away if you let me stay.”
“So you learned your lesson?”
“Yes. You don't bargain with people that you can't trust.”
“Well, you must trust me then.”
“What do you mean?”
“You just cut a deal with me.”
“I did, didn't I?
Wes pursed his lips and gave her a melodramatic frown. “I'm going to regret this.”
Allie squeezed Wes's arm. “Thanks. We won't give you any trouble. Promise.” A frown formed on Allie's brow. “Any word about my family?”
“No, Allie. Once the immigration folks take over, we're out of the loop. But they'll be safe at the Medford facility.”
“Unless they deport them back to Sinaloa Cartel territory.”
Wes sighed. “I'm praying that doesn't happen.”
“So you … pray?”
“Yep. In my line of work, it helps to maintain close communication with the Person who watches out for me.”
“Then I'm glad it's you watching out for us.”
“Probably because I'm a pushover. Well, I'll be outside your door. You two behave, or this little arrangement will get rearranged.”
“Wes, I don't know what you're worried about. I can't move my left arm or I'll scream. My head feels like the bass drum in a marching band. Do you really think—”
“Jacobs, maybe I should tell you about the guy who'd been shot three times and his girlfriend came to visit him in the hospital—maybe I shouldn't tell you that story.”
“No, you shouldn't. Thanks, Wes. Goodbye now.” Allie waved him out the door.
She scooted her chair closer to his bed and sat. “I think we need to talk about us. We happened so fast that—I mean, Jeff, you called me mi amor in front of Papa. I thought he might punch you. He's very protective and—”
“Allie, I wanted him to know up front that our relationship was serious and that my intentions were honorable. But I didn't have much time to say all that. So I took a chance.”
“It worked. Papa admires you. To Benjamin, you're a superhero. And to me you are … mi amor.”
“I love you too, Allie. But I wonder if you'll feel the same when you know the truth about me?”
Chapter 19
With media at the hospital, trying to create a story, Allie was sure to hear something about his past. He had to explain before—
“What do you mean by the truth about you? I know everything that I—”
“Allie, there are things that you need to hear from me before you hear rumors or media gossip.”
“It’s a closed issue. You know something, sometimes you are your own worst critic. Besides, we have another issue to discuss.”
“But, Allie—”
“Jeff, while you were still sleeping, I overheard part of a discussion between the marshals. I think their boss wants them to separate us.”
Allie's words, “separate us,” troubled him in a dozen ways. Jeff was no law enforcement expert, but any way he looked at it, separating Allie and him would be a stupid move. It would only dilute the DOJ's resources, resources that were probably spread too thin already.
He studied Allie's face, the twin frown lines, the way she crowded close to him—she was worried.
“Allie, we need to ask Wes about this. Would you please go get him?”
She studied his face and her eyes grew softer. The frown lines disappeared. “We've kept you from resting far too long. Are you up to this, Jeff?”
“Yeah. I am. My headache's getting better. I'll be fine.”
“I hope our discussion with Wes doesn't bring you another one.” She leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Be right back.”
A kiss. Be right back—it could all end when Allie let him tell his story.
Less than a minute later, Allie led Wes into the hospital room. She sat on the bed next to Jeff.
Wes stood in the middle of the room, hands on hips. “Look. Splitting you two up wasn't my idea. But my boss is pushing Cliff and I really hard in that direction. I think it’s what ICE might do that concerns him.”
Surely ICE wasn’t considering Allie for detention. She had student status.
“I'm the one with the most incriminating testimony against the cartel members.” Allie jumped up from the bed. “Tell your boss I won't testify if he separates Jeff and me. Tell him to put that in his cigar and smoke it.”
Jeff reached for her hand. “You mean put it in his pipe?”
Allie's cheeks were red. She ignored him, pulled her hand from his, and clamped both of her hands onto her hips. “Or put it in some other place … some really—”
“Allie, you need to settle down.” Jeff grabbed her wrist and tugged on it. “I think Wes got your message.”
She turned toward him, jaws clenched and head shaking. “If they try to separate us, I'll … I'll marry you. Then they won't be able—”
“Don't you think you need to ask me about that?”
“You wouldn't turn me down. I know you, Jeff. I … I could convince you.”
“And I'll bet she could.” Wes raised his hands, palms out. “I'm outta here. I'll give the message to my boss.” After turning to leave, Wes looked back at Jeff. “I’d say good luck,” he mumbled as he left. “But it looks like you've already got that.”
After Wes disappeared out the door, Allie moved back to Jeff’s bedside.
He took her hand. “Sit down.”
“I'm sorry, Jeff. I was afraid. Then I got mad. Then I just—”
“Just tempted me.” He smiled at her. “If I needed to, I'd marry you now. But before we plan something out of desperation, let's wait to hear from Wes.”
“You need to know the truth about me, Jeff. I have a really bad temper. Only once in a great while do I lose it. But when I do, you'd better watch out.”
“I believe you, especially after your instructions for Wes's boss.”
“Please forgive me. I don't use bad words or say crude things … well, not normally.”
“You are a good woman, Allie Santiago. That’s what I believe. Now let's concentrate on getting me out of this hospital so you and I can find a way to help your family. If we were back at my house, I can think of several things to try.”
“Then let's tell Wes to take us to your place.”
“You don't need to tell me. You got your wish, Allie.” Wes stood in the doorway. “When Jeff is discharged, and rumor has it that's been moved up to tomorrow morning, we're taking you back to O'Brien to Jeff's house. We believe the cartel has left the area, except for the four injured men we have in custody here.”
“Four?” Maybe he had lost count after banging his head on the rock. But only three wounded goons were captured. The other one was dead.
“Hector Suarez, survived, barely. He's conscious now and, get this, he swears he had an out-of-body experience.”
Jeff waved off Wes's words. “Don't trust him. He's one of the worst of that bunch. I wouldn't believe him even if he cut all of that long, greasy h
air off and started asking for a priest.”
Wes chuckled. “His long hair’s already been cut off. They had to … lice.”
“Oh, gross!” Allie held her stomach. “I actually rode on an ATV behind him and his hair kept whipping my—I'm going to be sick.”
“Has he actually asked for a priest?” Jeff asked.
“No. Just the phone number of some publishing company.”
After he spent an hour checking Allie's long hair for lice, Jeff tried to sleep. But every hour of the long night was punctuated by a nurse's poking, prodding and questions.
In the reclining chair across the room, Allie slept through most of it. Seeing her relaxed with her permanently tanned face and waves of dark hair, brought back her words, “I'll marry you. You won't turn me down, Jeff. I could convince you.”
He was already convinced. It was only a matter of time, spending a little more of it together … if his past didn’t interfere.
Dr. Harris came by on his rounds at 9:00 a.m. As the doctor told him yesterday, Jeff's arm felt much better. It would remain in a sling for several days, but he could already use his hand a little.
After Jeff’s discharge, policemen seemed to have taken over the hospital. Uniformed officers stood at every corner, every door, and at the elevators.
Wes and Cliff escorted Allie and Jeff to a waiting helicopter on the hospital's pad, a much smaller bird than the SWAT team used.
After they all climbed in the chopper Jeff turned to Wes sitting in front of Allie and him. “Earlier this morning, I thought you said we were driving to O'Brien.”
“That was before the Intel report came in. It seems that the cartel has moved some people into the area. The helicopter will prevent them from trying anything en route.”
Allie leaned forward in her seat. “If the cartel is back in the area, will we be safe at Jeff's house?”
“That's our job,” Wes said. “And we're good at it. Don't worry. Besides, there’ll be more law enforcement people watching you two than just Cliff and I.”
She leaned back as the rotor spun up. “I wonder why they came back. To salvage their marijuana?”
There was only one explanation. He didn't want to worry Allie, but a false sense of security would only increase the danger. “Allie, these guys are vindictive. Not only do they get even, but they like sending out warnings so others will think twice before crossing them.”
“You think they came back to kill us, don't you?”
“Cliff and Wes know that. That's why they have more people watching us. If it gets too dangerous, they'll move us. At least that's how I've heard short-term protection works.”
Allie hooked his arm and leaned against his shoulder. “Knowing that organized crime is sending people after you to kill you is …” Her words trailed off.
“Yeah. It's scary, Allie.”
Chapter 20
Jeff scanned the mountains to the southwest as the chopper flew through the blue skies of a typical, Southern-Oregon, July morning. But it wasn’t a typical morning. New cartel members were arriving. Possibly waiting in those mountains for Allie and him to return.
Allie clung to his uninjured arm, her head against his shoulder. She hadn't spoken a word since they took off.
After they boarded, Wes had remained silent, too.
But the usually quiet Cliff chattered, nervously.
Was everyone worried about returning to his house?
He couldn't let Allie see his concern. She needed some peace in her life.
A few minutes after crossing the green farmland of the river valley, O'Brien came into view. In another minute, the chopper descended and hovered over the field behind Jeff's home.
Two police cars sat along the road in front of the house and a uniformed officer stood on the front porch.
Security had definitely been beefed up. It provided another reason for some of O’Brien’s residents to want Jeffrey Jacobs gone.
The helicopter touched down and the rotor began a slow spin down.
Allie’s haunted eyes surveyed his well-guarded house. she leaned toward him. “Do you think this was a good idea, Jeff?”
“Do you mean keeping us together?”
“No. Keeping us at your house.”
He grinned. “Look. With fields all around it, the house should be easy to defend.”
Wes unbuckled and turned toward them. “Jeff is right. This is an easily defended home. And we've added a video surveillance system, modified the phones, and added some troopers to patrol the area. We'll keep you safe, Allie. You two wanted to be together, so relax and enjoy yourselves … within reasonable limits.”
Allie still clung to his arm, but now she looked up at Wes. “Have you ever … uh, lost anyone?”
“Nope. Had one case where—well, let’s just say we're still batting a thousand.”
“But so far you've only had to stop the local marijuana growers.”
Wes chuckled. “You mean the dregs of the cartel barrel?”
“But they have hired assassins, Wes. Those people nearly killed my father.”
“If you don't wander off again, we've made that almost impossible. You'll be safe,” Cliff said.
Wes stepped out of the chopper, then stuck his head back inside. “You know the drill. Wait until Cliff and I are ready, then we all hurry inside.”
“Home sweet home.” Jeff shook his head. “But it's not like it used to be.”
“You mean it's not peaceful like it was before I came into your life?”
Was she looking for more assurances? “I wouldn't roll the clock back and try to change anything, except maybe the part where Hector put a bullet through my arm.” He patted the sling holding his left arm. “How about you, Allie?”
“I'll go where you go, because that means I'll be where I want to be.”
He kissed her cheek and rose to get out.
“Knock it off, you two. We're not gonna stand out here all day just so you can tell your grandkids about the time you parked in a helicopter.”
“Wes is cranky today. We'd better go, Allie. You and I have some research to do.”
* * *
Allie heard the front door close as she walked into the study.
Jeff sat in his computer chair, staring into the screen of his laptop. “Who just left?” His eyes remained focused on his computer's display.
“Cliff. He went to the store.”
“Getting lunch for us, I hope.”
“Men. Their minds are either on food or—”
Wow! Allie, you look absolutely—”
“See what I mean?”
“What?”
“You weren't even listening to me, were you, Jeff? That's another thing about men.”
“When you saunter into my study looking like you came from a fashion magazine photo shoot, it's hard to listen, hard to think about anything else.”
“I rest my case.” She stepped beside Jeff's chair. “One of the nurses felt sorry for me and brought me some clothes she couldn't wear anymore. My blouse and cut-off jeans needed to be washed. After sitting behind Hector Suarez, I should have burned them.”
He grinned. “Thank the nurse for me if you see her again.”
“We’re not going to have any more visits to the hospital. Jeff, what were you reading so intently when I came in?”
Jeff grabbed a folding chair with his good arm and deftly pushed it open with his foot. “Sit down.” He pointed a thumb at the laptop. “I was looking at the rules for work visa applications.”
She sat beside him and scooted the chair a bit closer. “Then why are you reading a message from … Brock Daniels? Who’s he?”
“He’s a friend from Eastern Oregon. We met through his blog. We’re both into Christian apologetics. But back to the subject at hand.”
His chair swiveled until he faced her.
Allie drew a sharp breath when Jeff's hands clasped around the back of her neck.
“You are so beautiful, Allie. How did someone like me eve
r—”
“Hush.” She stopped his lips with her fingertips, then leaned into his embrace.
Jeff's arms slid around her.
The security and comfort of his embrace and Jeff's handsome face carried Allie's mind away to a wonderful place, a place she prayed lay somewhere in her future, her near future.
Behind her, someone cleared their throat.
Jeff released Allie. “Wes … your timing stinks.”
“That's what the bad guys always say when I arrest them.”
“Hey, I’m not one of the bad guys.”
“That's a matter of opinion.” He cocked his head and eyed them with suspicion. “Am I going to have to separate you two?” His face relaxed into a grin.
She turned in her chair. “Don't worry. Jeff and I will do fine together.”
“That's exactly what I'm worried about. My oldest daughter just turned thirteen. Stuff like this gives me ulcers.”
“I'm twenty, almost twenty-one. Jeff is twenty-four. We're both adults so—”
“And that's supposed to ease my mind?”
Wes's insinuations had crossed the line. Allie stood and faced him, feeling her cheeks burn and harsh words move to the tip of her tongue. She tried to blow them away with a blast of air. “That's enough, Wes. Jeff is an honorable man.”
“He's a man. You got that right.”
Jeff reached up and pulled her back into her chair. “Allie, Wes is just trying to do his job. He cares about us. You know that. Besides …” Jeff grinned, “… I know places in this house where he can't possibly find us.”
Jeff’s grin distracted and defused Allie.
Wes dismissed Jeff's words with a wave of his hand and turned to leave.
Allie looked down at Jeff’s arm. It wasn't in the sling. “I see your arm mysteriously got better just when you needed it to grab me.”
“Yeah. Couldn’t have you biting or kicking a Federal Marshal like you did Agent Nelson.”
“You’re never going to let me forget that, are you? Don’t answer. Seriously, how is your arm?”
“I can use it a little as long as I rest it before the bullet hole heats up too much.”
She stroked Jeff’s injured arm. “Wes thought things heated up a little too much between us. What do you think?”
