Taste

by Cambria Hebert

  His serious face pulled down into a frown. I shoved the rest of the cookie into my mouth and licked the chocolate off my finger.

  He glanced at the rack.

  “Sure you don’t want one?” I said.

  His eyes snapped back up to mine. “No.”

  Spencer appeared, waltzing through the door like he owned the place. The tie around his neck was loosened and slightly askew, and he looked a little tired. But that didn’t stop him from giving me a smile that said he was happy to see me.

  My tummy flipped over, and I smiled. He made me feel good. Even in the midst of all this chaos, Spencer was the silver lining.

  He glanced over at the man standing there and then back at me. I raised my eyebrows but said nothing. He looked at the island covered in cookies and groaned.

  He didn’t even think about it.

  He just scooped one up and shoved the entire thing in his mouth.

  Joy burst in the center of my chest and flowed outward. It brought with it a feeling of peace. Clearly, not everyone thought I was trying to kill them with cookies. It was like the thought never even crossed his mind.

  Constipated man stiffened and stared at him as if he were going on alert, ready to jump into action when Spence collapsed on the floor in a heap.

  Spencer noticed the man’s odd behavior and turned to look at him. Then he glanced at me. I shrugged. He grabbed up another cookie and bit into it.

  “What?” he asked the man.

  He cleared his throat. Spencer regarded him coolly as he shoved the rest of the cookie into his face. He turned to me. There was melted chocolate smeared on the corner of his lip.

  It was adorable.

  It was also wholly enticing. I wanted to lick it off.

  There was a question in his eyes.

  “Your friend here thinks I poisoned what you’re eating.”

  Spencer’s eyes narrowed into slits. He reached out and grabbed yet another cookie and turned to stare at the man. He glared at him silently, his gaze intimidating and hard. Then he shoved the entire cookie into his mouth and chewed, still staring.

  “Langdon,” Spencer admonished, still chewing. “I thought you were better than that, man.”

  Langdon had the grace to look embarrassed.

  It gave me silent pleasure.

  Abruptly, Spencer turned away and looked at me, winking. “More for me,” he said, then scooped up about four more.

  “Can I talk to you a second?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  He glanced at Langdon and then took me gently by the elbow and pulled me across the kitchen. Langdon followed us with his eyes. Spencer looked at him and said, “Case stuff.”

  Langdon nodded and glanced at the floor.

  “I wanted to tell you I’m not going to be around the rest of the day,” he said, his fingers caressing the inside of my elbow.

  “Okay,” I replied. It was disappointing because Spencer was the only one in my corner, but I realized he had a life and needed time to live it.

  He released my arm and shoved a hand through his hair like he was bothered by my reaction. “I’m not going to be able to stay at your house tonight either,” he said, his voice whisper quiet.

  I swallowed. “Of course not,” I said reasonably. “You already got the poison.”

  “Fuck,” he muttered.

  I couldn’t really understand what made him mad.

  “Stop acting like that,” he growled.

  “Acting like what?” I blinked.

  “Like you don’t care.”

  My tongue burst out to wet my lips. “Spence—” I began.

  He cut me off by shoving another cookie in his mouth and holding up a finger. After several moments of chewing, he said. “You know damn well I didn’t come over last night just for that stuff.”

  “But…”

  He held up his hand again. Clearly, this was going to be a one-man conversation.

  “Yeah, I was asked to come get it. But I was also told to bring it in right away. I wasn’t supposed to stay.”

  “Spencer!” I gasped, drawing the eye of Langdon. I lowered my voice. “Then why did you?”

  He stared at me intently, his eyes like liquid honey. “I think you know.”

  Little shivers of excitement raced up my back.

  He grabbed my hand, lacing our fingers together. “There’s something between us, Elle. There has been for a long time. And it’s definitely more than work.”

  “You mean you don’t just like my cookies?” I smiled sweetly at him.

  He grinned. “You could never make another cookie again, and I would still find reasons to come in this kitchen to see you.”

  Sadness enveloped me. “You know I’m going to get fired, right?”

  “We’re going to work this out,” he said solemnly. “But even so, I know where you live.”

  I couldn’t help but smile.

  “So yeah.” He shoved another cookie into his mouth. “I can’t come by tonight because I have to work. Presidential stuff.”

  Stuff he was likely told not to tell me. I nodded. “I’ll be okay.”

  “I made them put another man on your house. You’re going to be fine, okay?”

  I nodded, mustering my bravery. I would be fine. I could take care of myself and Jack. Then I thought of something. “Spence?”

  “Hmm?” he said around a mouthful of his last cookie.

  “Did you get in trouble before? Is Walsh upset about…?” My voice faded away, I wasn’t really sure what to call what was going on between Spence and me.

  “Our relationship?” he supplied, totally comfortable calling it that.

  I could only nod. Did we have a relationship?

  “It’s not exactly a secret I like your cookies.” He grinned suggestively.

  I smiled. “Well, up until today, my cookies were never in your lap.”

  “He’ll get over it,” Spencer muttered.

  I knew then that he likely did get a lecture, and that whatever work he had tonight was probably a direct result of the closeness between us.

  I might take comfort in being around Spencer, but it wasn’t good for him. I was going down and it wasn’t fair to drag him down with me. I didn’t want him being labeled as someone who conspired with the deadly chef.

  Robert Walsh rushed into the room, stopping abruptly, his eyes going right to me. There was a certain wildness about him, a ruffling of his usually calm feathers. My anxiety went through the roof. Immediately, my heart began to hammer and my breathing came in short spurts.

  Something was wrong. I could sense it.

  “What happened?” I gasped, walking away from Spencer.

  “There’s been an incident,” he said, grave.

  “Mr. President?” Spencer asked, his voice sounding hollow.

  Mr. Walsh shook his head and looked at me. “Not the president.”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. Dread was like a lead weight threatening to pull me down deep. Spencer was at my side instantly, his arm winding around my waist, supporting my already sinking body.

  Walsh frowned. “It’s Jack.”

  12

  I rushed upstairs and into the little office where I left my bag this morning. I could hear my cell phone ringing from the opposite end of the hall.

  I started to run.

  The ringing of the phone silenced, and I gave a strangled cry because I didn’t make it, but as I barreled through the doorway, it began ringing again. The contents of my bag scattered all over the floor as I upended it to get to my phone.

  “Hello,” I gasped into the line. I was completely out of breath from running up the stairs and down the hall.

  “Elle,” my mother said into my ear.

  “What’s the matter?” I demanded.

  I was aware of Spencer and Mr. Walsh coming in the room behind me, but I didn’t turn to see them. I was pissed at Robert, and if I looked at him again, I might claw out his eyes.

  How could he come into the kitche
n like that, tell me there was an incident concerning my son, but report he didn’t have the details? He clearly didn’t have kids or else he never would have done something so dire. He did yell after me that Jack was safe, but the damage was already done.

  I needed to get to my son as soon as possible.

  “Everyone’s fine,” Mom rushed to say. “But something odd happened.”

  “Jack’s okay?” I said, needing to be sure.

  “Yes, honey, he’s fine,” she said. “Hold on a second.”

  There was a very brief pause, and then I heard her voice in the background. “Tell Mommy hi.”

  “Jack?” I said, my voice cracking.

  “Ma!” he said and then started babbling things I didn’t understand.

  I started crying and sank down into the nearest chair. Hearing his voice was like a dam breaking on an overfull stream. I swallowed down the worst of my reaction, realizing I wasn’t alone and not wanting to make Jack upset with my blubbering.

  “I miss you,” I told him, trying to inject some cheerfulness in my tone. “I’ll be home in just a little bit.”

  “Tell her bye,” Mom said in the background, and my heart broke a little bit. I wasn’t ready to let him go.

  “Bye-bye,” Jack said into the line. His innocent voice filled my head and caused new tears to well.

  “Bye, baby. Love you,” I said. I didn’t care if the president himself was listening. I always told my son I loved him no matter what.

  “See,” Mom said, taking back the phone. “He’s fine.”

  “What happened, Mom?” I said, my voice leaving no room for half answers and excuses. I felt all eyes on me, and I decided rather than repeat this conversation over a million times to switch her on speaker.

  I glanced at everyone, making a silent motion with my finger against my lips, and they all nodded.

  “I took him to the aquarium, like we talked about,” she said. I nodded even though I knew she couldn’t see me. It was more or less me telling myself I remembered. Ever since the men invaded my home the other night, I’d been suggesting (and paying for) various outings for her and Jack, thinking the crowd would help keep them safe.

  It seemed I was wrong.

  “We were in the gift shop, and he was going crazy for this stuffed turtle up on one of the high shelves, so I turned to grab it, and when I turned back he was gone.”

  My stomach twisted violently, and I wrapped an arm around my waist. Spencer knelt down beside the chair, offering his reassuring presence.

  “I panicked, of course.” Mom went on. “I searched everywhere for him. His stroller was outside the gift shop, empty.”

  Her voice was shaky, and I knew it had to have been absolutely terrifying. I was petrified, and I was hearing about it after the fact.

  “I started yelling for help. The security guards came. The employees came. People who were inside started helping me look for him.”

  “Where was he?” I demanded. The suspense was literally going to kill me.

  “One of the guards found him near the exit of the building. It was two flights of stairs up from where he and I were.” She sounded confused and upset all at once.

  I blew out a shaky breath. “You’re sure he isn’t hurt?”

  “Of course not, honey. I checked him over.”

  “Okay, I’m coming home right now.”

  She didn’t argue because she knew it was a losing fight.

  “Elle,” she said right before I could disconnect the phone.

  “Yeah?”

  “There’s something else.”

  “What?” I said, wishing she would just say it and get it over with.

  “There was a note in his pocket. I found it when I was checking him over for injuries.”

  I glanced at Spencer, feeling all the blood drain from my face. “What did it say?” I asked.

  “It was just two words: Hurry up.”

  I closed my eyes.

  “Do you know what that means?” Mom asked.

  Oh, I knew what it meant. It meant my time was running out.

  I swallowed past the giant rock in my throat and closed my eyes. I felt Walsh’s stare bore into me, and I knew what he was silently telling me.

  I had to lie.

  “No, Mom,” I said, my voice hoarse. “I have no idea what it could mean.”

  “So odd,” Mom said. She didn’t question me at all.

  Not like the people here. The people I was allowed to tell the truth. They didn’t believe me. Mom would. Only I wasn’t allowed to tell her. I wasn’t allowed to have her support.

  Like intense acid reflux, anger burned through my chest and up my esophagus. This had to stop.

  “I’ll see you soon,” I said and then disconnected the phone.

  I glanced up at Walsh, my eyes hard. “Tell me what you know.”

  I saw the excuse forming in his eyes, the half explanation he was going to try and spoon-feed me and expect me to accept.

  Yeah, no.

  I stood up from the chair. I didn’t care I wasn’t an impressive, intimidating size. It didn’t matter. I was a mother. A mother whose child was being threatened. That alone could match the strength and size of a giant.

  “You want to think I’m guilty?” I spat. “Fine.” Walsh’s eyes widened. “You don’t want me to cook anything. No problem. You want to fire me when all this is over? That’s fine, too. But,” I said, hard, staring him down. “You will not keep this from me. You will not tell me only what you want me to know. My son is being threatened, and I expect you to be one hundred percent honest with me. So help me God, if you don’t, I’ll go to the press.”

  “I’ll throw you in jail,” Walsh countered, clearly not liking my ultimatum.

  Spencer stepped up beside me.

  “You won’t,” I said. “Because then your bait will be off the table.”

  Walsh studied me for long moments. I was aware of Spencer standing by, ready to jump to my defense.

  But I didn’t need him to defend me. I could defend myself.

  Walsh sighed and slapped a folder onto his desk. “Our guys apprehended the kid who took Jack. They left him by a security guard and then made sure he was found. Jack never would have made it out of that building without being intercepted.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, incredulous. “You mean to tell me your guys watched my son be taken from his grandmother and they didn’t do anything until he was two stories up?”

  “Our presence needs to stay hidden,” Walsh retorted.

  “My son’s life is at risk!” I yelled.

  Spencer dropped an arm over my shoulders, and I stiffened. “What happened, Walsh?” he asked.

  “We have the kid in custody. Our guys took him immediately, then hung around to make sure Jack was safe. He’s being questioned now.”

  “So you have the man plotting against the president?” I asked.

  Walsh shook his head. “No, this is some kid. Barely eighteen. He says he was paid to play a prank.”

  “Kidnapping is not a prank,” Spencer growled.

  “Kid says he never planned to leave the building with Jack. He says he was paid to just walk the kid around, give the grandma a little scare.”

  “Who in the hell would agree to that!” I burst out.

  “An idiot,” Walsh said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We’re going to throw the book at him.”

  I snorted. No punishment would be good enough.

  “Who hired him?” Spencer asked. I could practically hear the wheels turning in his head.

  “We’re trying to get the information out of him now. He doesn’t seem to know very much.”

  I laughed hollowly. “I’m going home,” I declared, stepping away from Spencer. “I don’t care if it’s not my normal time.”

  Walsh nodded. “There is something we need to discuss first.”

  “What?” I asked, desperate to get out of here.

  “I think we need to consider a change in plans.”
/>   Spencer nodded like he already knew what Walsh was going to say.

  “What kind of change?” I asked.

  “I think it’s time we send Jack away.”

  13

  They were toying with me.

  Preying on my weakest spot.

  The stunt at the aquarium proved they were getting anxious and tired of waiting. They told me to do what they wanted quickly, and I hadn’t.

  My son paid the price.

  I had only one choice.

  I had to send Jack away.

  I didn’t want to. It was the last thing on Earth I wanted, but his life was more important than my wants. I’d never been away from him for more than one night, and the thought of it literally gave me hives.

  I told myself to get over it, that I could bring him back the minute—no, the second—this was over.

  There was only one problem.

  I didn’t know where to send him.

  It seemed like sending him to visit family or close friends was the obvious answer, but it wouldn’t necessarily hide him. He needed to go where no one would look, where no one would even think to look.

  The Secret Service, I think, finally saw the situation for what it was: me being threatened and blackmailed to do something I would never do. The atmosphere in the office where we sat was subdued, and the faint odor of suspicion that seemed to waft off all of them (except Spencer) was gone.

  They were currently suggesting where to send Jack and my mother. I didn’t like any of their places.

  “I know somewhere,” Spencer said, his expression thoughtful.

  “Where?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “It would be better if you didn’t know.”

  I made a strangled sound. “You expect me to send my mother and my son away for safety and not know where they will be?” He was crazy.

  Spencer speared me with somber amber-colored eyes. “Do you trust me?”

  I took my time answering because this was a moment when I needed to be one hundred percent certain. His gaze never wavered; the sincerity in his face never slipped.

  The thing was I didn’t really need time to come up with the answer to his question. I knew it immediately. What I needed time for was actually admitting the truth out loud.