Insanely Deadly

by Holly Copella

  “What good will that do? I made those special for my darling wife,” Hunter said then took Jetta's hand, smiled suavely, and kissed it.

  Palmer gave Jetta a bewildered look through the mirror. “His wife? Did my invite get lost in the mail?”

  “It's a long story, Sheriff.”

  “I don't do long stories before I've had my morning coffee,” he growled then shook his head with disgust. “Who doesn't make coffee in the morning?”

  “You mean besides you?” Jetta asked then immediately regretted saying it aloud.

  Sheriff Palmer glared his annoyance at her through the rearview mirror. There was no joking with the sheriff during his morning coffee crisis.

  †

  Hunter sat at the island counter in the hotel kitchen with a massive pile of extra-large pancakes half-eaten in front of him. Rafael leaned on the counter while grinning as he watched Hunter enjoy every bite.

  “These are fantastic,” Hunter remarked.

  “Glad you like them, dude.”

  Palmer leaned against the main counter and watched Hunter. Desmond entered with Doc Trenton, a short, graying man in his early sixties. Doc was a third generation, Winter Harbor doctor. His father and grandfather all practiced in town before him. His son was also a doctor, but he opted to work for a practice on the mainland. Although Doc insisted his son would take over when he retired, most in town doubted it. There just wasn't enough money in being a small town doctor. Freshly baked apple pie was an acceptable form of medical payment, which would explain the doc's girthy midsection. Doc approached Hunter and joined him at the counter.

  “Morning, Hunter,” Doc announced pleasantly. “That's certainly a lot of pancakes you've got there.”

  “I'm sure Rafael will make you some, Doc.”

  “Maybe later. How are you feeling?”

  “Getting a little full,” Hunter replied and pushed the half-eaten plate of pancakes away then wiped his mouth.

  “Do you remember when you were talking to Jetta this morning?” Doc asked.

  “No.”

  “This morning,” Doc informed him in a casual tone. “You were making pancakes, and you spoke to Jetta.”

  Hunter tensed and stared at Doc. He realized something was wrong. Jetta wasn't at the house this morning. He was positive it had just been him and-- “I, uh, I don't remember talking to her,” he said with uncertainty.

  “You called her Caroline.”

  Doc's words shattered him. Hunter suddenly groaned and held his head in trembling hands. How could he have made that sort of mistake? How could he have kissed Jetta as he would a lover? There was no way to recover from this blunder.

  “Oh, this is not good,” Hunter gasped while staring at the counter. His mind was racing. He couldn't make any sense of what he had done.

  Bishop and Carter entered the kitchen and headed behind the counter to join Palmer, Desmond, and Rafael, who still leaned on the island counter across from where Hunter sat. Doc studied Hunter closely and watched him tremble. When Hunter trembled, it usually meant he was confused and searching for answers. If he was unable to jolt himself back into reality, it just caused more confusion. The situation needed to be immediately defused.

  “It's okay, Hunter,” Doc gently informed him. “These are just side effects from the injuries you'd sustained during the blast.”

  “She must hate me,” he said softly.

  “No, Jetta doesn't hate you,” Doc reassured him. “You know how she feels about you.”

  “It seemed so real.” Hunter no longer trembled but didn't look up.

  “I heard you had several drinks yesterday in the lounge,” Doc announced. “This may have caused swelling in your brain. You should drink a lot of water today--”

  Hunter suddenly glared at Doc with hostility. Did he hear him correctly? “That's your solution? Drink water?” he demanded in a tone that startled everyone. “I mistake Jetta for my ex-wife, and you recommend I drink water?” His eyes turned dark and frightening. “What kind of horse doctor are you?”

  Doc stared at Hunter's dilated pupils and immediately tensed. Hunter was on the verge of ‘flight or fight’, and that usually only went one way for him. Desmond tensed with concern as well.

  “You need to relax, Hunter,” Doc said firmly.

  Hunter bolted upright, and his chair crashed to the floor. Doc jumped from his own chair and took a step back. Rafael quickly backed away from the counter.

  “Relax?” Hunter demanded in a chilling tone. “I fucked up with the only person in the world who matters to me, and you want me to relax? And drink water!”

  “Oh, boy,” Rafael murmured softly.

  Doc calmly reached into his bag and removed a sedative ­syringe. Palmer moved around the counter and positioned himself a safe distance behind Hunter. Desmond saw what was about to unfold and approached Hunter in an attempt to keep him calm.

  “Hunter, listen to me,” Desmond said calmly.

  “I want to talk to Jetta,” Hunter lashed out.

  Hunter couldn't figure out what was wrong with these people. Had they done something with Jetta? Why wouldn't they let him see her? He needed to find her before something bad happened to her. His body twitched.

  “Jetta will be back,” Desmond informed him gently. “She had to pick up some people from the mainland.” He eyed the syringe then Doc. “Is that necessary, Doc?”

  “That depends on him.”

  Desmond looked back at Hunter and tried to lighten the mood. “Why don't I take you home?” he said then grinned playfully. “Hey, we'll play that video game you like. The commando one. I've been practicing. I think I can beat you this time.”

  Hunter glared at Desmond through piercing, dark eyes. “You need to grow a pair before that will happen,” Hunter growled. “I want to talk to Jetta.”

  They weren't going to keep him from her. Hunter knew he had to do something and fast. He didn't know what these men were capable of and in what sort of danger Jetta was. How long had they been pretending to be his friends to infiltrate his home? He was pretty sure he'd be able to get the lanky one to talk. Palmer grabbed Hunter from behind.

  Desmond held his hands up in alarm. “No, don't--”

  Hunter immediately rammed his elbow into Palmer's midsection, knocking him backward. He then kicked Desmond in the abdomen, knocked the syringe from Doc's hand, and swept Doc's feet out from under him. As Doc crashed to the floor, Hunter spun back for Palmer, who was in the process of reaching for him. Hunter grabbed his arm and flipped him over his hip, dropping him to the floor alongside Doc. Hunter leaped over the island counter, startling everyone. Bishop stepped into his path. Hunter swung at Bishop. Bishop blocked the punch and two others that immediately followed. Hunter spun into a roundhouse kick for Bishop's head. Bishop ducked and kicked Hunter in the side just hard enough to jolt him. As Hunter straightened, he had Bishop's gun in his hand and aimed it at him.

  There were several gasps. Bishop stared with alarm at his own gun aimed at him. The silence was deafening. As Hunter stared at Bishop, he heard Jetta's voice echoing through his mind. ‘I think you're losing your instincts, Hunter. Bishop has little interest in me.’ He then heard his own voice in response. ‘Ah, so you're attracted to him too?’ Was this man Jetta's boyfriend? Something clicked in his mind. With one hand, Hunter disassembled the gun into several parts and casually dropped it to the floor. Bishop exhaled loudly with relief. Rafael hurried to Doc's side and helped him to his feet. Doc grabbed the discarded syringe. Hunter again jumped over the island counter to avoid further confrontation with Bishop and nearly collided with Rafael, who stared at him with fear in his eyes.

  “Dude--” he gasped.

  Rafael wasn't a fighter and didn't relish the thought of being pummeled by his friend. Hunter suddenly stood rigid while staring past Rafael. Ming stood across the kitchen with her six-year-old daughter, Fei Yen, clinging to her leg. She stared with surprise at the unfolding events. Hunter leaned closer to Rafael, causing him to ju
mp anxiously.

  “Pretty lady at ten o'clock,” he whispered with enthusiasm. “Introduce me.”

  She was the most beautiful woman Hunter had ever seen! He thought, perhaps, he had seen her somewhere before, but his mind was playing tricks on him. Perhaps there was something in the pancakes. Rafael stared at Hunter with his mouth hanging open then uncertainly looked back at Ming. He forced a grin and leaned closer to Hunter.

  “Let Doc give you the shot, and I'll introduce you, dude,” Rafael remarked softly.

  Hunter rolled up his sleeve while staring at Ming and extended his arm to Doc. Doc injected Hunter with the syringe. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. As Hunter rolled down his sleeve, Rafael cautiously guided him closer to Ming. She appeared apprehensive as they approached but didn't back away.

  “Ming, this is Hunter,” Rafael announced politely. “Hunter, this is Ming and her daughter, Fei Yen.”

  Hunter smiled charmingly and extended his hand to her. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Ming.”

  Ming uncertainly eyed Rafael. He gave her a reassuring nod. She accepted Hunter's hand and returned the smile.

  “It's nice to meet you, Hunter.”

  “We were having pancakes,” Hunter announced cheerfully. It was the only line he could come up with on short notice. “Would you like join us?”

  Rafael appeared enthusiastic, hurried behind the counter, and looked around the room. “Yes, let's all have pancakes.”

  Ming uncertainly smiled and nodded. Desmond and Palmer appeared sore but unharmed while watching the instantaneous transformation. Hunter picked up the stool and dusted it off for Ming. She smiled and joined him at the counter while Rafael allowed Fei Yen to climb over him like a jungle gym. The other men collected near the main counter.

  Bishop watched Hunter with astonishment and uncertainly shook his head. “He's rather--”

  “Skilled?” Desmond replied.

  “That too.”

  “He should be committed,” Palmer scoffed.

  “You shouldn't have grabbed him,” Desmond softly interjected. “I had it under control. You're the one who set him off.”

  “How the hell was I supposed to know he was some sort of ninja?” Palmer demanded. “Quinn made him out to be a retired crossing guard. I'm going to have words with that bastard next time I see him.”

  “I told Jetta and Quinn that medications won't resolve the underlying issue,” Doc informed them firmly. “He has a fragment of shrapnel pressing against his brain. The only way to fix it is with very delicate and expensive surgery that his insurance simply won't cover.”

  “How dangerous is he?” Palmer demanded to know. “He easily could have killed someone just now.”

  “But he didn't,” Desmond announced.

  “That's beside the point,” Palmer scoffed.

  “99.9% of the time, he's not dangerous at all,” Doc replied. “What you saw just now is rare--and avoidable.” Doc glared at Palmer. “Desmond knows how to deal with him. He did have it under control.”

  Palmer fidgeted then frowned. “Yeah, sorry about that,” he muttered.

  “He's going to be very tired for a few hours,” Doc announced. “Desmond should take him home and let him sleep it off.”

  “Stay with him as long as you need,” Carter informed Desmond then looked at Doc. “How much would that surgery cost?”

  “Nearly a million dollars.”

  Everyone appeared stunned and groaned softly.

  “How much does that little shot cost?” Palmer asked.

  Doc smiled and laughed softly.

  †

  Ming waited impatiently for the elevator in the lobby. Elise stood before the front desk, noticed her, and immediately crossed the lobby toward her and the elevator. Elise wore her usual grumpy expression, which meant she once again intended to unleash her wrath on poor Ming. Ming saw her, recognized the look, and fidgeted.

  “Ming--”

  “I was on time, Ms. Raymond,” Ming quickly protested. “Mr. Braxton needed my assistance in the kitchen. He said he'd talk to you.”

  “Yes, he talked to me. This isn't a day care, Ming,” Elise announced and impatiently folded her arms across her chest. “Why is Rafael baby-sitting your daughter?”

  “He's not, Ms. Raymond,” Ming replied then hesitated. “I mean, he's just keeping an eye on her for a few minutes until my mother gets here.”

  “This is a business, not a day care center,” Elise scoffed. “This is the last time I'm going to tell you about this. If it happens again, you'll receive a written warning, and it'll go on your record. Now get to work.”

  Elise turned and walked back to the front desk. Stacy immediately looked down and pretended to be working. Ming frowned as the elevator doors opened. She said something in Chinese, most likely a curse word, entered the elevator, and cast her back against the wall.

  Chapter Ten

  Jetta stood by her helicopter on the federal building roof and watched as the three aging government men in cheap suits, Daniels, Anderson, and Milton, loaded several duffel bags into the back of the helicopter. Something about the way they talked quietly among themselves made Jetta immediately suspicious of them--or more suspicious of them. She had her father's distrusting instincts. It was going to be a long, trying day.

  “That's a lot of equipment for a missing person investigation,” Jetta casually remarked. “Why exactly is the CDC interested in a missing person anyway?”

  “Now you, of all people, know we can't divulge our interest in this case,” Daniels informed her.

  “I'm sorry, have we met before?” she asked.

  She knew they hadn't. She would have remembered someone like Daniels. Although not unattractive, he reeked of a superior attitude, which made him unappealing. He was the sort of man who'd make her father's skin crawl. He made her skin crawl, and she wasn't entirely sure why. If she had Hunter's instincts, she'd know why.

  “No, we haven't met, but we know your father, Admiral Cross,” Daniels replied. “That's why we agreed to having your sheriff send you. You know better than to ask too many questions.”

  If Daniels had an ounce of intelligence, he'd realize hiring her was a mistake. She smiled despite her distrust for the man and his position.

  “I'm assuming that's my cue to shut up and do as I'm told,” she remarked with a grin.

  “And you're smart too. I like that,” Daniels announced cheerfully. “That means I shouldn't have to repeat myself more than once.”

  “My father taught me well,” she replied then muttered under her breath, “which is very unfortunate for you.”

  They weren't going to get along, she was already certain of that. Jetta removed her cell phone and pressed a button. There was the same interference. She shut her cell phone and glanced at the three men, who were just about ready for take-off.

  “My cell phone isn't working for some reason,” she informed them. “Anyone have a phone I can borrow? I have a sick friend I need to check on.”

  Anderson removed his phone, pressed in a code, and handed the cell phone to her. She was immediately suspicious that he needed to enter a code to activate the phone. Jetta made her call, waited a moment with the cell phone to her ear, and then cringed at the voice on the other end.

  “Hi, Elise,” Jetta said into the phone then paused while listening and frowned. “Yeah, good morning to you too. Is Desmond there?” Silence. “Oh, I see.” Silence. Jetta rolled her eyes. “I'm sorry your Internet still isn't working. Can you transfer me to the kitchen?”

  Jetta made a face and held the phone away from her ear. Elise was heard shouting from the other end.

  †

  Elise stood behind the front desk with the phone to her ear and the irritation evident on her face while talking to Jetta. Stacy sheepishly looked up from her position behind the desk not far from Elise. It was a common occurrence for Elise to go off on some poor, unfortunate soul several times a day. It was usually Desmond or Ming who suffered her wrath. Elise had alrea
dy made her quota for the day, but she must have been feeling particularly confrontational, especially when Jetta wasn't standing in front of her.

  “This is a hotel, as everyone seems to forget,” Elise announced with hostility. “Our business is the guests, not socializing with the staff. And another thing--”

  Bishop approached the front desk and picked up the clipboard. He appeared mildly interested in her rage-induced conversation then glanced at Stacy. Stacy grimaced slightly as if answering his silent question.

  “That crazy bastard struck the sheriff and poor Doc,” she shouted into the phone. “We aren't running a mental ward for your charity case--”

  Bishop realized with whom she was talking, grabbed the phone from Elise, and placed it to his ear. Jetta was heard cursing through the phone. Even Stacy heard the cursing from her position several feet away.

  “Wow, that was some colorful language,” Bishop announced into the phone. “Even better than phone sex. I'm actually blushing.” Jetta's murmuring shouts were heard even with the phone against his ear. Bishop frowned. “Okay, now that's just plain rude. Do you want an update or not?” Silence. He suddenly grinned. “See, you can be nice. Desmond took Hunter back to your house to sleep off his sedation cocktail. Doc says you'll just have to ride it out like you always have.” Bishop listened to her on the other end and nodded in response. “I believe Desmond intends to stay with him. Carter was very understanding.” A sly grin crossed Bishop's face. “You're lucky he wants to get in your pants.” Jetta's cursing could once again be heard through the phone, surprising Bishop. He grinned playfully almost as if enjoying it. “I don't think I've ever been called that before.” The phone clicked and went dead. Bishop eyed the phone, shrugged, and hung up. “Must have been a bad connection.”

  Elise folded her arms across her chest while glaring at him. “You're disgusting,” she scoffed.

  He gave her an innocent look. “Me? I was being a complete gentleman,” he announced proudly. “Can I help it if she has a mouth like a sailor?” Bishop attempted to hide his grin and looked back at the clipboard in his hand. “Talk about a turn on,” he muttered softly.