Ancient Danger: Mata Hari Suspense Series #3

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Ancient Danger: Mata Hari Suspense Series #3 Page 9

by Jo-Ann Carson


  As she walked over to her door the barking grew louder. Looking through the spy hole, she saw a young man with a bored expression knocking. After grabbing her gun from the entrance table, she undid her five dead-bolts. Keeping the safety chain in place she opened the door a few inches. “What do you want?”

  The man stood about her height, five foot eleven. Okay twelve, but she never admitted that. He wore baggy jeans that hung low on a too-skinny waist. Probably a vegan or a druggie. The smell of cheap male cologne wafted from him. The logo on his white polo shirt read: Express Man, and below that was his name: Randy. This had to be Mitch’s doing. He was trying to lift her spirits with a prank.

  The delivery man’s green eyes lacked focus. He talked to her door. “Delivery for Sadie Stewart.” His accent nailed him as a New Jersey guy.

  The sound of barking drew her eyes down to the floor. On the end of a leather leash stood a foot- long ball of fur, bouncing up and down. She jerked her eyes up to the man’s. “Not the dog.”

  “Yeah lady, the dog.” His mouth scrunched up and he sighed, as if this was the dumbest delivery he’d ever had. Maybe it was.

  “I don’t want a dog.” Don’t look at it, again.

  “You Sadie Stewart?”

  Don’t look at the puppy. “Who sent you?” Don’t…

  Slowly, as if the effort was beyond his abilities, he pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. It looked twenty years old. “No name. Paid cash. No return address.” He balled up the paper and pushed it deep into his pocket. “Lady, you gotta take the dog.”

  Her eyes, against her better judgment slid down to the puppy. His big brown eyes melted instantly into hers. Double friggin’ hell. She needed to nail an Egyptian arms dealer, fix her relationship with her Dutch lover, and fit in a couple of photo shoots in Italy to keep her international modeling cover. She had no time to take care of a dog in New York. But she couldn’t tear her eyes from his. He was just too damn cute.

  Randy started shuffling from one foot to the other, as if he’d missed his designated potty time. “Lady, I got other deliveries. I’m an Express Man. That means something in our business. I’m supposed to be fast. Will ya just take the dog and sign for it?” He pushed a handheld device towards her.

  Express Man… sign… dog… she got all of that, but… Her eyes stayed with the puppy. She’d never had a puppy. Always wanted a puppy. It would be hers. He had to be the cutest puppy she’d ever seen. He wouldn’t argue with her like Sebastian.

  Wait. Could he somehow be a threat? She pushed her gun into the waistband of her yoga pants, at the base of her spine, and unhinged the security chain.

  When she opened the door she checked the hallway. Clear. Then she bent down to examine the puppy. The dog tried to jump into her arms, and when she put her finger to his mouth he gave her a good chomp with sharp little dagger teeth. This little guy had character.

  “Lady?” Randy’s right eye twitched as if he’d caught a bug in it.

  It would be stupid to take this little beast. Really stupid. He looked like a fluffy little chocolate piglet. She couldn’t take a mutt around the world with her on her shoots. She couldn’t let him mess up her CIA work. He’d have to have a dog-sitter. His little tongue felt like sandpaper as he licked her arm. His short tail flew back and forth with vigor. She couldn’t do this.

  Could she? A year ago she’d fought herself over keeping a baby. It made no sense to adopt one, especially since she was single and nomadic. In the end, the decision took less than a heartbeat. She couldn’t stand there and watch a newborn baby being put to death. She’d never regretted taking over the care of JaJa, even though she rarely saw him. That had worked out. So why couldn’t she adopt a dog? Lots of people did it.

  “Ladeeee?”

  “What kind of dog is it?”

  “It’s a puppy.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Do I look like a dog expert?” He shrugged. “Listen, lady, if you don’t want him I’ll throw him down the garbage chute.”

  And have him compacted? Her gut wrenched and she glared at him. The asshole would probably do it too.

  He shrugged again.

  The puppy rolled onto his back for a tummy scratch and she complied. He looked a bit like a baby Labrador, but too fluffy to be a purebred. She liked that idea. Her pedigree was far from pure and any animal connected to her should be equally mottled. Not that those things should matter, but having grown up on the other -side -of -the -tracks she had plenty of scar tissue from comments slung at her years ago.

  If she chose a dog she’d want him to be big, tough and lovable. This puppy with his oversized paws looked as though he could meet her expectations.

  Like Sebastian? Where the hell did that idea come from? Dog. Concentrate on the canine.

  “Lady the wind is picking up. Hell of a storm brewin’ there. I got things to do.”

  Wind? What a pussy. There’s always wind in New York. Without any more thought, she grabbed the handheld device and signed her name.

  Randy gave her a victory smile as he handed her the dog’s lead. “He’s got the runs.”

  19

  Chapter Nineteen

  The mutt strutted into Sadie’s apartment as if he owned it. Then he ran full speed to the other end of the room and tried to stop, but the shiny wooden floors gave him no traction and he slid right into the wall and bounced off of it with a yelp. Sadie giggled. She scooped him up into her arms, retrieved a bug searching device from her kit in her bed side table and took him to the kitchen counter for inspection. She used the two-inch-long device to scan his body, which should have been easy, because he was small, but wasn’t because he wouldn’t be still. He thought it was a game and kept trying to grab it in his mouth. Reasonably certain he wasn’t a bug carrier, at least not of the electronic kind, she took him to the bathtub.

  His brown eyes gave her the most plaintive look as she bathed him, in case he was covered in some chemical. Wrapped in a thick towel, he totally forgave her as she rubbed his curly coat dry. Spunky guy. Maybe that should be his name. Nah, he didn’t seem like a Spunky. Too regal for that. How about Monster, because his paws are so large? Nope. He’d no doubt cause trouble, but she didn’t want people to think of him as a disaster waiting to happen. Settling into her big recliner with him wrapped in the wet towel on her lap felt too-right. As she scratched under his ears his tail wagged and tapped lightly on her arm, magically easing the sadness in her heart.

  Who ever heard of a spy having a fluffy puppy? Jeremiah would kill her. The thought of his distress pushed the edges of her smile wider, until her whole body was smiling. To hell with the men in her life. Who cares what they or anyone else thinks. She’d enjoy the simple pleasure of a dog. The puppy started to leap up at her, as if he knew she’d crossed a line in the sand.

  Wonder if he’s hungry? As she fried a steak she considered where the pup came from. Her list wasn’t long: Mitch playing a prank that went too far; Sebastian trying to be extra sweet; Bakari making a weird love offering; or some nefarious stranger. Did the KOTL like dogs?

  Okay, Mitch was definitely capable of devious pranks, so he stayed on top of the list. Maybe she’d call the dog Mitch to spite him.

  Sebastian? Giving a dog to a woman in New York, who he wanted to see more of in Amsterdam, didn’t make sense, so he had to be struck off the list.

  Bakari? Violent wing-nuts who believe themselves to be powerful were unpredictable, but gifting a dog didn’t fit his MO either.

  Back to Mitchell. Crazy, fun-loving Mitchell.

  As the smell of the steak grew stronger the puppy drooled. And drooled. How could one little beast contain so much spit?

  When the meat was done, she cut up a quarter of it into small pieces and hand fed him. She’d heard that was a good way to create a bond. He choked the pieces down quickly and eyed her as if to say, “Where’s the rest, Mamma?” She laughed and gave him a bit more. Who could resist those chocolate-brown eyes?

  Then
she left him on the floor wrestling with his soggy towel as if he were a lion and the towel his prey, while she ate her portion and watched the evening news. The hurricane was off-shore. Satellite images showed the swirling storm. The winds were peaking at sixty-five miles an hour. The rain fell in torrents. Trees were bending and breaking. The possibility of another storm surge breaking the banks of the Hudson River and sweeping into Manhattan was mentioned as a side note. Hate those side notes.

  She washed the dishes as the puppy pulled at her pant leg. Sharp nails dug into her leaving scratches on her skin. Still no word from Bakari or Sebastian. Looked as if she had to ride out the storm with her new little guy. “Ow,” she called out as he nipped her skin.

  The puppy had to be a gift from Mitch. He was the only person in her life zany enough to think she could manage a dog. As if on cue, she heard a knock on the door.

  Mitch marched in with two over flowing bags of stuff and an irresistible smile. “Isn’t he cute?” he said. “He’s a labradoodle, half lab and half poodle.”

  “Cute,” she said as she threw the dog’s soggy towel at Mitch’s head. “How the hell can I take care of him?”

  “You’ll work that out.” From the top of the first bag he pulled out a rope attached to a ring and wiggled it in front of the dog. “Here, boy,” he called. The dog grabbed onto it and began pulling. Great! A tug of war in my living room.

  “Seriously, Mitch, I’m too busy. You do remember that I fly all over the place.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He gave her a piercing look. “But, darling, you need to learn how to chill out.”

  At that precise moment the dog squatted and peed on Mitchell’s shiny shoes. Sadie laughed. Mitch’s eyes popped and he shook the dog off his foot. Sadie laughed even harder, then Mitch joined in.

  Mitch exited for the bathroom to clean himself up, and Sadie grabbed some paper towel from the kitchen. “I hope you brought something to help me train him.”

  Silence.

  “Mitchell? Newspaper, a mat… something?”

  He returned without a word and rummaged in his bags, placing all sorts of interesting items on her coffee table. Three chew toys, two boxes of puppy treats, a small piece of rawhide and a book—How to Raise Your Dog. Nothing to catch poop. “This book has everything in it and it’s all indexed in detail in the back.”

  “Okay. Does it have a section on peeing on shoes?”

  The corners of his mouth twitched. “Sadie, we have to get serious.”

  This couldn’t be good.

  “You need to think about what you’re doing. You were getting yourself together with Sebastian, but now you’re back with the CIA. You’re batting your eyes at violent assholes and dealing with supernatural artifacts that have powers you and I can’t possibly comprehend.” He spit the letters out like poison. “It’s insane. I feel like I’m watching you ride a motorcycle straight into a brick wall. ” He grunted. “You gotta stop worrying about saving the world and save yourself.”

  “My life, my decision,” she said.

  Slowly, he shook his head. “Does this mean you won’t keep the dog?”

  She firmed her bottom lip. “How can I?”

  “We can take turns caring for it, and when we’re both out of town I’ll get my vet friend, Seymour, to take him. We can do this together. It’ll be our own family.”

  Listening to sophisticated Mitchell beg like a ten-year-old boy with a bad case of puppy-love made her feel warm and fuzzy, despite her worries. “You know that sounds…”

  “Good?”

  “I’m not ready to say ‘good’, yet. But maybe—possible. How can I even consider a hound in my life! There’s no room. She drummed her fingers on her arm. Her mind told her one thing, but her heart another. “You’ll house train him when I go back to Europe?”

  “And I’ll send you pictures.”

  Her heart fluttered. Talk about an offer she couldn’t refuse.

  “We could call him Mojo,” Mitch said.

  Sadie laughed. “We could both do with more mojo in our lives.” She eyed the fluff ball with the huge paws and big molten eyes. “But, he doesn’t look like anything to do with voodoo.”

  “Fido?”

  She grimaced. “Fido doesn’t cut it.”

  He took a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. “I made a list of names.”

  “Hoover, Giles, Herbert, Maxwell Smart—I couldn’t resist the spy connection—Dossier, Slick, Double O—you know the James Bond thing—Sunny, Revere, Jello, Choco, Artemis, Glock, Sherlock, Snoop, Boris, Nathan, Donovan, Cyrus or Scout?”

  Sadie reached for his list. “You’ve taken your time on this.”

  “Me and some friends. What do you think?”

  A smile slid over her face. “I’m overwhelmed. The little guy is so damn cute. He’s irresistible. Let me think on these names. I want to find one that really fits. In the meantime, I’m calling him Puppy.”

  He nodded.

  The windows rattled from the wind. They never rattled, but then she hadn’t been there for the last blow. “Want to hunker down with me while I wait for a phone call? We can play with Puppy.”

  The dog had fallen asleep on Mitch’s chest. “No, I won’t stay. That’s another reason I came by. All my photo-shoots have been canceled. I’m heading inland. Want to join me?”

  She shook her head. “Can’t. I won’t even go into why.”

  Mitch got up and handed her the dog. “Keep in touch.”

  The puppy squirmed in her arms. His baby dog smell hit her nostrils and she gave him a cuddle. “Aren’t you taking him?”

  “Not in my new car.” With that he left before she could utter another word.

  With care, she placed the squirming beast on the floor. His paws spread in every direction at first, then he got his balance and ran in circles chasing his tail. Although she really, really didn’t need him in her life, he added something wonderful. She sighed and picked up her cell-phone to check messages.

  A distinct odor hit her. She took a good sniff. Was that the smell of…? She looked down at the little guy. He sat at her feet, wagging his tail with glee. Beside him was a pile of poop… on her new ten-thousand dollar floor. She smirked. James Bond never had dog issues.

  She was on her hands and knees with paper towel when she heard the key in the first lock. Only two people had keys: the supe and Sebastian. Her chest tightened. Her gut sank then twisted into a tight knot. Placing a handful of poop into a plastic bag with paper towel, she gritted her teeth. She hadn’t even showered yet. Her hair had to be a mess. That didn’t matter so much. He always made a mess of it when he saw her anyway. An image of them in bed making passionate love sprang into her mind and a hot jolt of lust flowed through every inch of her.

  Sebastian entered the apartment without a word. He walked over and stood above her, all six feet five inches of him, and looked down. The poop was off the floor, but the smell hovered in the air. She sprayed the area with a disinfectant and didn’t look up.

  “A dog?”

  The puppy made little barking sounds as if he was a trained watch dog; so squeaky-adorable she wanted to grab him and cuddle him. Her nose twitched. How could anything that cute make such a stinky mess; and how could she not really mind? She wiped the floor with a clean piece of paper then sprayed it again.

  With his large hand, Sebastian reached past her and scooped up the plastic bag full of doo doo. “I’ll be back.”

  20

  Chapter Twenty

  Seb returned from his doo-doo run to the garbage chute down the hall, washed his hands and sat down in his favorite leather chair in the living room. “I called and sent you text messages a million times.”

  Sadie sat on the couch opposite. The puppy lounged in her arms, making mewing sounds. They looked good together, like a family. A family, without him? She tilted her chin up the way she always did when she’d determined what her next move was in her mind. No eye contact. Not good. Finally she spoke. “There’s nothing left to say.


  “Sadie, I love you.”

  She sighed.

  “I can’t just let things stop here, like this. We’re good together.”

  “You mean the sex is hot.”

  “Yeah the sex is hot, but you and I both know it’s more than that. Much more.”

  “Endorphins pop, hormones surge… It’s all about the chemistry.”

  “Fuckin hell Sadie. You know the chemistry runs deeper than that.”

  “Do I?” She looked at him. Her beautiful moss-green eyes drooped with sadness. “Sebastian, it’s not going to work between us. You don’t get me.”

  Oh how he wanted to get her, all of her, right now. He’d like to push into her with all his force, fill her up, prove his love to her, and … He clenched his jaw. “I know you think of yourself as a big, tough spy. I know you can fight better than most soldiers and I know you’re good with a gun and a knife. But I also know the other side of you. You are the kindest, gentlest and most loving woman.”

  Sadie looked away from him towards the rattling windows.

  “There is a mystery that is you,” he continued. “Part intense sensuality and part deep pain that longs for connection. I want to be that connection. I want to be with you. I…”

  Her eyes brimmed with tears.

  “In Venice…” His voice trembled. “I wanted to commit to you.”

  “Sebastian, don’t.” Her eyes implored him.

  “What is it I don’t get? Tell me. Give me a chance.”

  “I need to be free.”

  What the hell could he say to that? “Fuck.” He growled. Honestly, what did she expect of him?

  “Stud…”

  Oh Shit. I can’t believe she’s calling me that. Not now. It was a name she called him in the bedroom, or on the couch, or on the table, or in the bathroom on the plane… or… wherever they were making love. Usually just before she came, and she came a lot, long hard orgasms that rocked his world as well as hers. He shuddered thinking about them.

 

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