Memories Of You

by Bobbie Cole

  “The police had jurisdiction over the dating service until our guy got killed, but we weren’t ready to let anyone know Martin was ours.” Stone drummed his fingertips against the desk between him and Runnels and Seth and Charlie. He turned to address Charlie. “We let the police think what they wanted, do their investigation, draw their own conclusions, but we had Seth buddy up to you to see what information your department had on Martin’s disappearance.”

  “Wouldn’t it have made better sense to simply ask us?” She set her jaw, and her eyes glistened.

  Runnels shrugged. “Probably, but the powers that be wanted everything kept covert a while longer.” He indicated Seth. “Then he got himself lost.”

  “I wasn’t lost,” Seth seethed. “I was comatose.”

  “You were still out of play, my friend.” Stone’s tone was gentle.

  “I was really important to all of you, wasn’t I, friend?” Sarcasm laced the last syllable of Seth’s sentence. “That why it took you so long to contact me?”

  Stone looked sad for a moment. “We were under orders to see how much you’d find out if you believed you were Mason Aldridge.”

  So I was just supposed to get close to Charlie in the beginning. Not fall in love with her, Seth pondered. Damn it. How could he have been so callous as to have used her to find out more about the Martin case? How could he, as a professional, have allowed himself to fall in love with her?

  He knew instantly—it would have been more than difficult. It would have been impossible to have spent time with Charlie and not fallen for her.

  “So that’s why he remembered my phone number,” Charlie mused from her stance at the window.

  “No,” Seth disagreed. “It was more than that.”

  She whirled, unmindful, or so it seemed at first, of the agents in the room with them. “Really? How do you know? How will we ever know for sure?” She cast a scornful glance at Stone and Runnels. “At least they’ve cleared up a few things, like why me, why Mexico—it was because Martin was one of them, one of you…whatever you are. Spies?” Charlie snorted. “So are you all like double-o-seven types who travel to foreign countries in search of evil?”

  “It’s not like that, ma’am,” said Stone.

  Charlie shook a finger at him. “I am not your mother—I’m a police officer. You call me ma’am one more time instead of Detective Vargas, and I’ll shove my badge so far down your throat it’ll take a proctologist to find it.”

  She glared at Seth. “What? Detective Vargas doesn’t work for you? It’s not like I was more than a job, right?” Then she seemed to be thinking. “Did Bemo know about this?”

  The two Feds looked guilty. Stone finally nodded. “He knew. We had to ask him to keep it from you, though.”

  The look on her face said it all, her shock and dismay. “How long has he known?” demanded Charlie. “Not that it matters in the scheme of things, but I’d like to know just how long I was under a federal microscope with my boss’s knowledge.”

  “Not until you were in Mexico,” Runnels told her. “We’d figured out Seth might be regaining his memory, and when we saw that you were traveling with him, we had to know what the two of you were doing in Guadalajara. If he’d blown his cover, it would have been disastrous for the bureau.”

  “Great.” Charlie nodded. “Thanks. Sincerely.” She cut Seth another hard look. “Information at last.”

  Seth took a long, shuddering breath. He detected no sarcasm, despite the words. What he heard and felt were deep-seated pain and disappointment in Charlie’s voice. This had to be killing her, especially after they’d made love right before coming home. He felt like an ass, but there was nothing he could say or do that would make any difference to her now. Even if he regained full memory and tried convincing her that he’d loved her all along, she’d never believe him, not after today.

  Stone walked behind his desk and pulled out a sheaf of papers, rifling through them then dividing them and passing half to Seth. “I hope our revelation won’t affect the job we need the two of you to perform.”

  Charlie glanced from one man to the other. “What? Now I have to work with him?”

  Stone handed Charlie the other half of the paperwork. “We need the two of you to continue as if you were a couple, to be seen, to chat up certain things, to draw the man we suspect of murdering Martin into the open.”

  Charlie shoved the papers back at him. “No, thanks.”

  Stone quietly but firmly handed them back to her, tapping her on the chest with them when she didn’t open her hands to receive them. “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice, Detective. We’ve already spoken with your captain, and both departments are working together now to bring this man to justice. He’s murdered two of our agents and nearly killed another.” He indicated Seth. “Surely, you see the importance of your participation.”

  “Two?” Seth asked. “Lawson was the other?”

  “Right,” said Runnels. “When Martin didn’t show up for their rendezvous in Guadalajara, you were sent. The two of you had attended a stockholders meeting of Aldridge Enterprises and were on your way back to your hotel when you were run off the road, most likely by Mason. We know he was there because of airport security. We believe he followed you, tried to kill you, then came home while you were in the hospital and Lawson was in the morgue.”

  Seth rubbed his eyes. “So the Mexican police had it right all along. That’s why I kept seeing Lawson’s profile. She was driving.”

  “Right.”

  Seth continued. “I’m confused. So who the hell was driving which car?”

  Stone chuckled. “I’m not surprised—it’s pretty tangled. You were riding with Marjorie, on your way to attend a function at the hotel as our undercover operatives. Dorinda and Doug Wilkerson were in the other car. As for Mason Aldridge, nobody knows where he was at that time.”

  Runnels sat on the edge of the desk across from Seth. “We’re not sure what happened to the real Aldridge, but he was involved with smuggling terrorists into our country via Rogers’s business, the escort service. These men and women would enter through customs, travel as far as Houston, where Rogers trained them, then travel to various parts of the country to work with others like them. We don’t know how many cells there are, how many escort services Rogers truly owns, or who else is involved, but it’s a big operation.”

  Charlie held up her hands. “Illegal aliens…terrorist transports?”

  Stone nodded. “We know you’re familiar with a different kind of illegal alien problem, what with the Texas border bumped up against that of Mexico. What we’re referring to are illegals from countries other than Mexico. They’re being smuggled in from Mexico, transported via the dating service loop.” He shrugged. “Not all of them are being handed off to the dating service, of course, but they are entering the country mixed in with others who are simply here to find work or attend school. Makes those working for the dating service more difficult to catch.”

  “We’ve tracked at least two hundred illegal aliens during the past eighteen months, and we’re pretty sure they all arrived thanks to Aldridge and Rogers. Some of them, as we said, find jobs, attend college, while others within the same families are recruited to work for the escort service.”

  Charlie’s mouth gaped. “That many?”

  Stone nodded. “These men and women working for the dating service must have families, friends, people with whom they relate. Otherwise, they’d be too easy for us to catch. Their governments don’t send them over here flying solo. They’re given families, backgrounds, loved ones, so that they blend in with our culture.”

  “Fellas, I’m not sure I’ll be much use to you,” Seth admitted. “I haven’t had a gun in my hands since I’ve been out of the hospital, and I can’t remember much—short-term memory problems more than long-term.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Stone said, coming to join them. “You won’t be issued a weapon, not until you pass muster with the powers that be. But you’re still technically
engaged by the CIA, so you have a job to do, regardless.”

  Charlie interrupted them. “Whoa. You want us as sitting ducks, don’t you? That’s what this is about—you’ve said as much. You need someone to draw Rogers into the open.” She waved her arms expressively. “If he’s already killed two of your agents, what makes you so certain you can protect us, especially if Seth has no way of defending himself? That’s a suicide mission you’re feeding us.”

  Bile rose in Seth’s throat. She made him sound like a victim, and regardless of his memory, he was pretty damned sure he’d never been the type to roll over and wait for someone to kill him. “You think I can’t defend myself or protect you?” he blurted out.

  “Oh, don’t get your boxers in a twist,” she snapped. “This isn’t about ego, it’s about self-preservation.”

  Seth pounded the desk. “Bring it on. I have a lot more at stake here than you realize, babe.” Pride be damned, he had Charlie to think about, not just his hide.

  “Hold on,” Stone said, pushing his palms toward them. “Nobody’s asking you to die for the cause, just to be seen in certain circles, to let him get close enough to talk to you. We’d need you to wear a wire, of course, and to pretend Seth is really Aldridge. We need him on tape.”

  Seth shook his head. “Why didn’t whoever manages the escort service approach me before now?”

  “Probably for the same reason we didn’t—to see how much you really knew.”

  Seth sighed. “Okay. I get it now. Even though I didn’t know shit, neither of you could possibly know that unless you watched me and kept me close.”

  Charlie squinted and leaned closer, as if examining a bug under a microscope. “I don’t know what you’ve been smoking, but last time I checked, killers don’t do a lot of chatting.”

  Stone folded his arms across his chest and nodded. “I don’t suppose it’s occurred to you, Detective Vargas…” And he made a point of emphasizing the title she’d thrown at him earlier. “But you’re the one Seth can thank for having put him in Rogers’s gun sites. You’re the reason Seth has a target on him now. If you hadn’t gone to Rogers asking so many questions about George Martin…”

  “I was working a cold case,” Charlie shot back. “I was doing my job!”

  “You were nosing around to see what had happened to your boyfriend, Miss Vargas,” Stone said, rising and placing his hands on his hips. “You didn’t give a damn about George Martin.” He held up his hands again, palms facing her. “Not that I believe you don’t do your job well, but Martin meant nothing to you.” He stuck a thumb in Seth’s direction. “My pal over here, however, had gotten under your skin, and you couldn’t handle it that he’d simply dropped out of sight. You went back to face Rogers more because of Seth than George. You just wanted to know where your boyfriend was, not who had killed George.”

  “You think you know me pretty well, don’t you?” Her question wasn’t defensive, more a statement of surprise.

  “I know you better than you’d like, lady. That’s what bugs you.”

  By then, Seth and Runnels had moved toward the center of the room to get between Charlie and Stone, both of whom were red-faced and seemed itching for a verbal brawl.

  Seth felt compelled to defend Charlie, even though he knew the little spitfire could handle her own against anyone. He felt torn between the job he couldn’t perform and the woman he loved, and the realization that he loved her ate at him like a cancer. He knew in his heart she felt nothing but remorse, anger, bitterness and disappointment that she’d ever become involved with him.

  “Knock it off, Stone.” Seth stood and moved between the two antagonistic law officers.

  “I can take care of myself.” Charlie grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. Her lower lip trembled slightly, and she lifted her head proudly, almost defiantly. She swallowed hard enough for him to see a slight movement in her throat, and she wet her lips before facing Stone and continuing. “What is it you need from me? Do I call my captain, or does he know where I am?”

  Stone’s expression softened, noted Seth, and his voice had a more even, kinder tone. “Bemo knows. We’ll need you two to spend a couple of nights in a hotel while we check out your apartment. You don’t have any pets, do you?”

  When Charlie shook her head, he continued, “We’ll sweep the room for bugs, place a couple of our people to watch your building and floor, and install a camera or two so we can see who’s watching you.”

  “But nobody knows where I live,” Charlie protested.

  Runnels shook his head. “You’d be surprised. If Rogers knew enough to follow you to Mexico—”

  Seth’s mind snapped to attention. “What?” He and Charlie exchanged disbelieving glances.

  He could tell it had slipped the other two men’s minds to inform them.

  Charlie looked as if her knees were buckling, and she reached for the nearest chair and sat. “Rogers…was in Mexico?”

  “He was on your flight.” Stone’s voice was quiet, matter-of-fact.

  Stone opened the door to the small office and quietly asked someone for a few bottles of water to be delivered. Seth felt as if someone had kicked him in the teeth.

  When Stone turned back from the door, a flash of recognition, something…it triggered a montage of scenes that flitted across Seth’s mind. He and Stone both laughing, doing mundane things like watching television together—a football game, Texas against Oklahoma.

  When Runnels turned around and caught Seth’s eye, Seth gave a brief nod. “We were all friends?” he asked.

  For the first time since they’d all met at the airport, Runnels smiled. “You and I trained together, and you were best man at Stone’s wedding.”

  “How long have you two known one another?” Seth asked, directing his question to Stone.

  “We only met a couple of weeks ago,” Stone said. “But we’ve had some good talks about you.”

  Charlie obtrusively cleared her throat. When they all looked at her, she crossed her legs at the ankles, tucked them under her chair and leaned forward. “Charming as this little reunion has been, I do have a life, family, a job, so can we get through this as quickly as possible so I can go home?”

  Chapter Nine

  They hadn’t even let her go home for fresh clothes, telling her and Seth that someone would retrieve their belongings and take them to the hotel. She’d bet her last paycheck Seth didn’t have a pile of laundry waiting on him back at his mansion…rather, Aldridge’s mansion.

  Charlie could barely contain her anger. First he was some rich manufacturing magnate, then her amnesiac lover, possibly a male escort, a CIA operative and now all of the above plus someone who had used her for his own purposes? She’d always admired all aspects of law enforcement, but now she saw an ugly side she had difficulty appreciating. If she was ever in the position of ripping someone from their home, she’d remember this. If she ever had to go undercover and lie to those she loved, she’d think twice before taking on the assignment.

  She winced guiltily. As if he had a choice. Still.

  Once at the hotel, she checked out her room, noting that they at least were in a large suite, one in which she had her own bedroom. She heard Stone asking Seth what he wanted for the next day’s meals since they’d be sequestered, and since the hotel had provided a checklist.

  Seth seemed not to hear what was being said—or he was off in la-la land, because he never answered. Charlie moved to stand in her doorway leading to the living area she’d share with Seth, and she watched his face, his eyes. He’d completely spaced out and seemed to have difficulty following the conversation. Stone, whose back was to Seth, had apparently not noticed.

  “Hey,” she said gently, going to stand beside Seth.

  He nodded, but his eyes still seemed unfocused to her, as if he searched for something.

  “Did you catch what he said?” Charlie asked.

  Stone, upon hearing her, had quit talking and turned to Seth. “Buddy, you okay?”

 
“I’m fine.” Seth brushed aside their concern and flexed. “I’m just tired, sorry. You were asking me something?”

  Stone reiterated his questions, seemingly oblivious to what had just happened, but Charlie had a moment of panic. How awful for Seth, if this was part of what he’d mentioned, the short-term memory problems. To be suddenly cut adrift from his thoughts like that, unexpectedly.

  She shoved aside her sympathies. Oh, no, Charlie—uh-uh, he still lied to you by omission. The man used you. Don’t get sucked back into anything. Focus on the case, on helping them nab Rogers.

  “Detective?” Runnels handed her a copy of the same list Stone had been going over with Seth. “We’re asking you both to fill these out now so that you won’t have to open your doors once we leave. You should be fine, but we’ll have a guard posted outside, just in case.”

  She nodded, accepting the piece of paper and pen he offered. As she sat at her bedroom desk, filling in the squares by checking them, she couldn’t help but dwell on Seth, despite her desire not to sympathize. He’d take offense at too much concern, but damn it, she cared. He wasn’t an invalid—he wasn’t even traumatized. He was simply confused momentarily. It was what was happening in that moment and what occurred afterward that concerned Charlie. How did he feel when he spaced out like that? And was the condition permanent?

  When she handed Runnels her selection and he asked if she could think of anything in particular she needed or wanted for the next couple of days, she nodded and gave him the names of a couple of board games and card games.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do.”

  Charlie sat on the edge of her bed. Let the Feds pick up the tab and think she was a little nutty. Maybe playing with games that required memory skills would help Seth. Couldn’t hurt, and it’d pass the time. Might keep her mind off thoughts of him kissing and holding her if she had something else on which to concentrate.

  Tall order, she thought, but it was worth a shot.