Vows

by Rochelle Alers

  “Why are you here?”

  “To see what everyone is gossiping about. They’re whispering about how beautiful you look.”

  Waves of heat flooded her face. “And I have you to thank for that. The weekend was wonderful.”

  “It was more than wonderful, Angel. It was perfect.”

  Nodding, she stood up and walked over to him. “I have a doctor’s appointment for three o’clock this afternoon.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this by yourself?”

  “I’m sure, Joshua. Stop worrying,” she admonished softly. “I’ll be all right. I’ll let you know everything when I get back.”

  “I’m going to be out of the office later this afternoon. Call me at the hotel and leave a message for me if I haven’t returned.”

  Resisting the urge to kiss him, she smiled instead. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  “I love you,” he whispered softly.

  “Same here,” she whispered in return.

  His declaration of love lingered with her throughout the morning as she resumed the task of closing out the last of her sub-contract budgets.

  Picking up a yellow-coded disk, she inserted it into her computer. Three more budgets and she would be finished. Three more before she would start the process all over again for the coming fiscal year.

  She stopped long enough to eat several carrot sticks and a cup of yogurt. After saving her figures on the disk, she filed it back in the cabinet. Staring intently at the disks, she noticed something was different. What, she couldn’t identify.

  Running her fingers over the disks, she counted them carefully. Exhaling, she shook her head. They were all there. But why, she thought, did she feel something was wrong?

  Picking up the one for the Kroff account, she looked at the front, then the back. Tapping the label with a fingernail, she shrugged her shoulders. It would come to her later.

  The question nagged her on the drive to the doctor’s office later that afternoon, but once she lay on the examining table she pushed it to the recesses of her mind.

  The doctor confirmed her own findings—she was pregnant, and he estimated that she was approximately a month into her first trimester. He examined her thoroughly, and patiently explained what she could expect with each trimester.

  He wrote a prescription for the supplements he wanted her to take and gave her an appointment to see him in another month. As she filled the prescription at the pharmacy located on the lower level of the medical office building, pangs of hunger gripped her, and she decided to stop at a downtown diner before returning to the office.

  Joshua walked into the field office of the Santa Fe FBI and was shown to the office of the man who headed the site.

  Extending his hand and not pausing for preliminaries, he asked, “What have you come up with?”

  Special Agent Patrick Lewis shook the proffered hand and waited until Colonel Kirkland sat down before taking his own seat. “Not much. We’ve tapped all of the phones of everyone at the administrative office and have come up with nada.”

  “What about Vanessa Blanchard’s?”

  “Again, nothing. My men were in two weeks ago and installed cameras in all of the offices, and again we’re drawing a blank.”

  Joshua stared at Patrick Lewis. The man was as nondescript as a male could be. He was of medium height with straight, close-cut, brown hair and brown eyes. He claimed no distinguishing features. He could easily pass for a Little League baseball coach, or the manager of a local fast food restaurant.

  “What have you come up with on Shane Sumners and Jenna Grant?”

  Patrick smiled, shaking his head. “Now that’s a strange combination.”

  Joshua leaned forward. “Why would you say that?”

  “There’s nothing to suggest that they’re involved with one another, except that he drives her car on occasion.”

  “I want you to bug her car. Better yet, bug both of their cars.”

  “We’ll do it tomorrow.”

  “Are any of the people in Finance meeting regularly with anyone in Manufacturing?” Joshua questioned.

  “It appears as if everyone at GEA gets together after hours. Most of them meet in a place near the Plaza for happy hour on Fridays.”

  “I’m not talking about Fridays,” Joshua insisted.

  “I’d like to accommodate you, Colonel, but I don’t have enough men to spread around.”

  “Call your boss in Washington and ask him for more men. Do I have to remind you that my boss and your boss want their two million dollars, and a traitor? It’s been almost three years, and the big boys on Capitol Hill have exhausted all of their patience.”

  “I’ll try,” he conceded. His brow furrowed. “We did come up with some interesting footage last week.”

  Joshua leaned closer. “What?”

  “It appears as if Vanessa Blanchard has an open-door office policy.”

  “No one at GEA locks the door to their offices. If they want privacy they simply close it.”

  “I’m not talking about that. Come. I’ll let you see for yourself.”

  The rush hour was over when Vanessa finally maneuvered into her parking space in the underground garage. She thought about not returning to the office, but something about the disks continued to nag at her.

  She rode the elevator to the seventh floor, but when the doors refused to open she knew everyone had gone home.

  Searching her handbag, she found her key and inserted it in the panel which would allow the doors to open and permit her access to the floor.

  Only a table lamp in the reception area remained on, giving the space an eerie glow. Flicking a wall switch, she lit up the corridor where her office was located. Her footsteps were silent as she made her way down the carpeted corridor.

  As she pushed open the door she wasn’t given the opportunity to scream. A tall figure loomed in front of her. A large, gloved fist smashed into her face. The hand covered her mouth, and she was forced backward and down to the floor. Struggling against the nausea rising from her throat from lack of oxygen, she felt a wave of blackness descend on her.

  Don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt my baby, she pleaded silently as she clawed at the hand over her face. Her struggling grew weaker, then stopped altogether. Darkness covered her like a comforting blanket, shutting out the light from the lamp on a table, the waning sunlight coming through the partially closed blinds, and her fear.

  Joshua paced the length of his hotel room, clenching and unclenching his hands. It was after nine, and he hadn’t heard from Vanessa. He had left three messages on her cell and voice mail at home, and she hadn’t returned any of them.

  He knew she hadn’t returned to the office, because he had—after meeting with the special agent in charge of the Santa Fe field office. He’d wanted to question her about the video footage on Frank Stevenson.

  He was relieved that their electronic wiretaps hadn’t picked up anything on her. They had recorded his calls to her, her calls to her sister, and several calls to her parents and co-workers. There was nothing on the tapes to indicate that she was even remotely involved in a conspiracy to commit espionage.

  He had her sister’s number, but didn’t want to call the woman and alarm her. It would’ve been different if they’d met, but they hadn’t.

  “Dammit, Vanessa,” he cursed under his breath. “Where the hell are you?”

  As if in answer to his question, the telephone rang. He took two steps and picked it up. “Kirkland.”

  “Josh—”

  His heart pounded wildly in his chest. “Vanessa! Vanessa, where are you?” He didn’t realize he was shouting into the receiver.

  “He hurt me. Come get me. Please, come get me,” she pleaded weakly.

  A wave of moisture swept over his body. “Where are you?”

  “In my office.”

  He could hear her sobbing. “What the hell are you doing in your o
ffice at this hour?”

  “Just come get me.” A distinctive sound followed.

  “Vanessa!” She had hung up the phone.

  It took him less than two minutes to retrieve the automatic handgun he’d concealed in the false bottom of a piece of luggage. He slapped in a fully loaded clip, pulled on a holster, and concealed the gun under a lightweight jacket.

  His tactical training in navigating vehicular obstacle courses prevented him from wrecking the rental car as he maneuvered out of the hotel’s parking lot on two wheels.

  He pulled into the underground parking garage at the same time Vanessa stumbled off the elevator, dragging her handbag along the ground. Her legs buckled as she groped her way to her car.

  Swinging her up in his arms, Joshua placed her on the rear seat of his car, slammed the door shut, then slipped behind the wheel and headed for the nearest hospital.

  He didn’t wait for a stretcher as he carried Vanessa through the emergency room entrance, shouting at the first white coat he saw.

  “Can I get a doctor here? Someone attacked my wife!”

  A nurse approached him. “Was she raped?”

  He glared at her, and she took a step backward. “I don’t know. But she is pregnant.”

  The nurse turned quickly and shouted for an orderly to bring a stretcher. It appeared miraculously. A young doctor joined the nurse, checking the swelling along the left side of Vanessa’s face. Her left eye was closing quickly.

  “What’s her name?” he asked Joshua.

  “Vanessa Kirkland.”

  The resident doctor looked at Joshua, frowning slightly. He leaned over Vanessa and studied her face. “This is Childs’s sister-in-law. I met her once at his house.” Turning to the nurse, he ordered, “Page Dr. Roger Childs, STAT. Tell him we have a family member in the E.R.”

  Joshua wasn’t permitted in the examining room as Roger Childs took over seeing to his sister-in-law. He paced the floor outside the room, praying. Vanessa was conscious, but she was quiet. Too quiet.

  Forty minutes later, Dr. Roger Childs stepped out of the room and motioned for Joshua to follow him. He led him to a small space that appeared no larger than a utility closet, and closed the door.

  “What are you to my sister-in-law?”

  Joshua glared back at the tall man, who matched his height but outweighed him by at least forty pounds. “She’s my wife.”

  Roger slipped his large hands into the pockets of his lab coat and flashed a feral grin. “I’m going to ask you the same question again, and I expect to hear the truth.”

  “Save your breath,” Joshua countered. “She’s my wife. Vanessa and I were married last year in Oaxaca, Mexico. She has a marriage license to prove it. If you don’t believe me, then ask your wife. She knows all about it.”

  Roger looked stunned. “Connie? Connie knows?”

  “Does she also know that her sister is pregnant?”

  Roger removed his hands from his pockets and ran them over his head, shaking it from side to side. “What the hell is going on here? You bring Vanessa in looking like she went a couple of rounds with a boxer, then you tell me that you’re married.”

  “Is she going to be all right?”

  Dr. Roger Childs managed a smile. “She’s just a little beat up.”

  “And the baby?”

  He smiled for the first time. “The baby is just fine. There’s no sign of bleeding.”

  Covering his face with his hands, Joshua let out his breath slowly. He dropped his hands and stared at the man who was his brother-in-law. Roger Childs looked more like a linebacker than a doctor. His nut brown face was round, his chest broad and deep, and his shoulders were thick and wide.

  “Do you know who did this to her?” Roger questioned.

  “No. But whoever did better be long gone.”

  Roger shivered as if a breath of cold air had swept over the back of his neck when he saw death in the eyes of the man standing in front of him.

  Joshua extended his hand for the first time. “Joshua Kirkland.”

  Studying the slender hand, Roger finally enveloped it in his larger one. “Roger Childs. This is a helluva way to meet, Brother.”

  “You’ve got that right, Brother.”

  Roger released his hand. “Now, tell me why you and Vanessa have kept your marriage a secret.”

  “I’ve been contracted as a consultant at GEA for a couple of months. There’s a company policy that states members of the same family cannot be employed at the same time, so we decided to keep it a secret until my contract ends.”

  “That makes sense. But didn’t you say that you and Vanessa married last year?”

  “That’s a long story, and I’d rather not go into it now. Is it possible for me to see her?”

  Nodding, Roger placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Sure. Come with me.”

  He found her in a small room, lying on her back on a narrow bed, holding an icepack to the left side of her face. Sitting down beside her, Joshua smoothed back several strands of hair from her forehead.

  “How are you, Angel?”

  “Okay.” She breathed out.

  Leaning over, he kissed her forehead. “Did you get a look at who did this to you?”

  She shook her head. “I know it was a man.”

  “Why a man?”

  “By his height and his strength. He was too strong to be a woman.”

  “Was he as tall as I?”

  “I don’t think so. He may have been somewhere around five-ten or eleven.”

  “What was he wearing?”

  Closing her eyes, she tried remembering everything up to the time she passed out. “I can’t remember. The only thing I can recall is that he was wearing perfume.”

  Joshua stared at her, frowning. “Don’t you mean aftershave?”

  Her eyelids fluttered. “No. It was definitely perfume. I just can’t recall the fragrance.”

  “Why would anyone want to attack you, Vanessa?”

  “I don’t know.”

  His features hardened. “Are you certain you don’t know?” She sat up, but he pushed her back down.

  “Why are you interrogating me, Joshua?”

  “I’m not.”

  Her temper flared and she flung the ice pack across the room. “You are interrogating me, as if I’d done something wrong. All I did was go back to the office to check on my disks and—”

  His eyes paled. “What about your disks?”

  “I noticed something was wrong with my disks, but I couldn’t figure out what it was until I got back to the office.

  “I color-code all of my disks by contracts. Hudson is leaf green, Aronson, sepia, Robertson, melon pink, Wallace—”

  “What’s your point?” he interrupted.

  “The one for the Kroff account wasn’t the right color. When I set up the account on the disk I used a sunflower yellow, but the one in the drawer was a lemon yellow.”

  “What the hell is the difference?”

  There was enough exasperation in his tone to annoy Vanessa. “I know the difference, Joshua. As a child I knew every color in the Crayola crayon box, could tell the colors without looking at the labels.”

  “Who worked on the Kroff account beside you?”

  “All of us at different times.”

  “Exclusively, Vanessa.”

  Her fingers grazed her injured cheek. “Myself. Shane and Frank.”

  “Was there anything on the disk that would be of interest to anyone?”

  “You keep asking me questions I can’t answer. For the last time, I don’t know.” Gritting her teeth against a spasm of pain, she closed her eyes. “Please take me home.”

  “I’m going to ask you one more question before I take you home. Who would have a key to your file cabinet?”

  “I’m the only one. Warren has a copy of the keys to every lock at GEA. If we lose one it becomes a big production number, because the locks have to be changed. All of our keys are stamped with Do Not Duplicate.”
<
br />   He kissed her again, this time on the lips. “Let me check and see if you can be released.”

  She sat up. “I don’t want to stay here.”

  “You won’t have to stay if your brother-in-law says you can go home.”

  “You met Roger?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “His bark is bigger than his bite.”

  Joshua nodded, smiling. “I’ve discovered that.”

  Dr. Roger Childs signed the release, arguing softly that the police should be notified. Joshua reassured him that he would make certain to report the incident to the police and to the office building’s security department.

  Vanessa made Roger promise not to tell Connie about the attack or the baby. “I’ll tell her when I see her.”

  “She’s going to go off on you when she finds out,” he warned.

  “I’ll deal with it when it happens,” Vanessa countered, leaning against Joshua for support. “I can walk,” she protested after he’d swung her up in his arms.

  “Carry her out to the car,” Roger ordered Joshua. “You’ve got your work cut out for you if she’s anything like her sister. Bossy, opinionated and a shopaholic.”

  “Tell me about it, Brother,” Joshua confirmed with a wide grin.

  “I’m telling Connie,” Vanessa threatened.

  “Tell her,” Roger called out. “She’ll just agree with me. Will I see you around, Joshua?”

  “Most definitely.”

  “Take good care of Vanessa. She’s very precious to me.”

  Joshua nodded. “Not as precious as she is to me.”

  He carried her to the car, and the return trip took twice as long as the one to bring her to the hospital. Because of her condition Vanessa could not take anything for the pain, and he drove carefully to avoid any uneven road surfaces.

  “I need you to do something for me, Joshua.”

  Stopping at a red light, he stared at her. “What?”

  “I want you to go back to the office. I need to see what’s on the Kroff disk.”

  “Someone just went upside your head, and you want to go back for some more?”

  “Please don’t argue with me. I know whoever attacked me wanted something in my office. And instinct tells me that it has something to do with the Kroff account.”