Ben got into a clean black T-shirt, faded jeans and his motorcycle boots. He washed his face and brushed his teeth and debated about a shave. But, he heard Lara's vehicle in the driveway and Einstein whined with excitement. She opened the door and took the English bulldog's face into her hands and cooed over him as if he were a baby. Einstein lived for Lara's attention, just as Ben did. He marveled at how docile the canine bulldozer was with her. She rose to kiss Ben and his strong arms immediately encircled her waist pulling her into his rock hard core.
"You didn't think you'd get away that easily, did you?" He kissed her passionately then whispered in her ear, "Dinner at the roadhouse." He slapped her bottom playfully and she went to the bedroom to change. When she stepped into the parlor, his jaw dropped. Lara had his favorite jeans on. They were not the painted-on-your-body type of jeans, but a loose fit that hugged her feminine curves in just the right places as if they were custom made for her. And she wore that form fitting white V-neck shirt with an American flag on the back. She slipped into her boots and applied a rosy pink lipstick. "Okay, Lieutenant, I'm ready." She saluted him and he couldn't stop the smile that overtook his face.
They both put on their worn leather jackets and Ben, as always, adjusted her helmet and goggles just so and he leaned down to kiss her beautiful face. Exhilarated, Ben took the long way to the roadhouse on the warm summer evening as Lara snuggled against his back. The roadhouse was filling up slowly when they arrived and every person nodded or waved to Ben as he moved toward his favorite table in the corner. As usual, he hung Lara's leather jacket on a peg with his, and magically a tall frosty root beer and a cold ginger ale arrived at their table. A crusty old vet tipped his hat when they looked toward the bar. Ben nodded in acknowledgement and smiled with gratitude. During dinner, the crowd gave the disc jockey their requests with a five dollar bill for each song and Ben made sure to get his songs into the mix. After eating salads and steaks, one by one the vets stopped by Ben and Lara's table. Lara was getting to know his buddies at the roadhouse and this pleased Ben immensely.
Bettencourt arrived and his tall imposing figure strode across the dance floor of the roadhouse directly to Ben and Lara's table. Waving his hand to the crowd at the table, Bettencourt spoke softly, "All right you guys…move along…I have to talk with the Chief sort of privately, if you know what I mean." The other vets all good-naturedly gave Bettencourt a hard time, but one by one they peeled off and the tall officer, now in jeans and boots, sat across from Ben and leaned in. "Ali Farouz, does that name ring a bell?" Ben narrowed his pale blue eyes and asked Lara to go powder her nose. She frowned at him but left momentarily and Ben focused on Bettencourt. "Ali Farouz… He's the one that's funding the group in Springfield." Bettencourt looked somber, "We can't find the weasel. He's beating the crap out of his daughter and starving her. She is safe now. We have custody of her. But, there's no sign of him." Ben inhaled, "I'll find him. There's got to be a money trail. Let me see what I can do to move this along. I'll be in touch."
Lara returned to the table and the music was about to begin. Bettencourt stood and bowed making a silly gesture to Ben, "May I dance with your wife tonight, Chief?" Ben pretended to give this decision deep thought. "Well, all right but keep your hands to yourself or I'll kick your ass." Lara laughed and Bettencourt winked at her. "I'll be back…I need to make a request." He smiled and drifted toward the DJ, then got swallowed up in the crowd. As the music started, Lara instantly recognized the first song, "Friday Night by Eric Pasley" and Ben whirled Lara onto the dance floor. She was relaxed and comfortable dancing with him and they did a perfectly coordinated Texas two-step swing. Ben loved her dancer's body and perfect balance and decided he wasn't going to let her sit down tonight. It would be a good work-out for both of them. The next song, "Real Good Man" by Tim McGraw made Ben smile as he twirled her snugly into his chest.
Then the pace slowed as Ben's favorite song came up, "Think I'm in Love" by Tim Halperin. Ben pulled Lara so close to his core she could feel his pulse coursing through him as he softly kissed her neck. This song held special meaning for Ben and he knew Lara loved it as much as he did. It was the first song they danced to barefoot on the rug in his parlor. It was the first song they danced to at their wedding. At times like this, Ben was acutely aware that his preferred method of communicating with Lara was physical. Making love, dancing, touching, kissing, or just embracing her; physical communication made him feel as if he could reach into her soul.
"Alone with You" by Jake Owen started playing and Bettencourt was suddenly tapping Ben's shoulder. Grudgingly, he handed Lara over to his six-foot-four former SEAL brother. Bettencourt smiled down at her and Lara giggled. Ben watched them dance from his corner table but lost them in the crowd. He read somewhere if a person hugged someone longer than twenty seconds the chemical Oxytocin would be released making them trust the person they're embracing. He didn't want Lara hugging Bettencourt too long while she danced with him. Although he trusted Randall Bettencourt with his life, he didn't trust any man with Lara. But he was sure Bettencourt knew what would happen if his hands so much as slipped to Lara's waist when dancing with her. Bettencourt was a SEAL brother and Ben planned to ask him to keep an eye on her when he left in July for the upcoming mission.
In a few minutes, another of Ben's requested songs came up, "I Wanna Make You Close Your Eyes," by Dierks Bentley. Ben was now tapping Bettencourt and the tall officer slapped Ben on the back and said, "Thanks, Chief!" Smiling at Lara, Bettencourt sauntered away. Ben drew Lara close to his chest and sang the words into her ear. He knew she loved him to sing in her ear while they danced. She didn't have to tell him that. He could tell by the way she moved with him on the dance floor. He held her so close he felt the heat of her cheek against his chest and felt her expression change into a smile, her secret smile just for him. Inhaling her sultry feminine aroma, he enjoyed the feeling of her silky hair against his face. Dancing with Lara transported him to a world of sensual delight.
~ Lara ~
After dancing with Bettencourt, Lara had the distinct feeling that he was trying to get into practice on the dance floor. Maybe there was a woman in the room he wanted to dance with, but he couldn’t seem to get up the nerve to ask her. When she moved across the floor with Bettencourt earlier, he didn't speak except to say he was glad she danced with him. She sensed that he was lonely and more than once he almost started talking about his private life with her, but would usually stop just before telling her anything significant. He was too good looking and intelligent to be single and alone. She wondered who the woman was in his past and why he didn't talk about her. She knew he was bar-hopping when he had nights off because Ben teased him about it often. One thing was certain; Bettencourt hadn't danced in a long time. Lara had to lead as he awkwardly followed. She knew he'd need more practice if he was going to get up the courage to ask a woman to dance at the roadhouse.
Lara looked up to Randall Bettencourt as she would a big brother. He was a law man – a man of justice – and she sensed his values were similar to her own, even though he never articulated them. For some reason, Bettencourt was becoming one of her pet projects in that she actively thought about finding a girlfriend for him. He came across as shy and detached when the subject of women or dating came up. All the more reason to push him, she thought. He was isolating himself and she sensed he was alone most of the time except for the fellowship he had with the other officers on the police force.
~ Eric Henderson ~
Eric Henderson was pulling out of his driveway the next morning in the black Infiniti to head to his office, but paused as he saw Lara's Fiat stop in front of his house. Getting out of his vehicle and striding toward her, he knew he looked like the cover of GQ in his expensively tailored suit and tie and hoped she would notice. His dirty blonde hair was slicked back and he wore a popular new Armani scent that cost $300 an ounce. Eric considered himself to be a chick magnet. But his charming personality no longer worked with Lara. He knew she saw him
because she glanced up, but he had to yell and run toward her car to get her attention. "Lara, hey…" He opened the door of her vehicle and helped her step out. A simple white linen sheath dress looked amazing on her and she wore a silk floral scarf and dangling diamond earrings. Her long legs looked lovely and Eric noticed she was wearing feminine sandals. Her hair was loosely gathered in a low chignon with tiny crystal pins. Damn, she always looked and smelled so good. He was putting his tongue back into his mouth as his eyes swept over all of the beauty that was Lara. "Hi Eric," she uttered flatly. Her perfect rose-colored lips managed a phony little smile, "I'm waiting for Hawk, you know, the landscape architect. You'll be amazed when you see what he's going to do here. I'm glad I caught you. I need a check for the landscaping."
Her wish was his command. Eric whipped his checkbook out and slapped it on the hood of her car and asked, "How much do you need?" Without batting an eyelash, Lara said, "$30,000". He scribbled in the amount on the check and handed it to her. "I don't want to know what the landscaping plan is, I want you to surprise me!" he said trying to sound agreeable and friendly. She snatched the check from his hand and said, "Oh, Eric, you will be surprised." He noticed that Lara avoided his eyes and he made another attempt to engage her, "I hardly ever see you here on the renovation…Monique comes by often, but you stay away." Lara was avoiding him now. Her eyes were on her iPad and Eric realized he was going to be late for work. He left her with his best dazzling smile, "Have a nice day, Lara. See you soon." He knew she was ignoring him. Eric carefully backed the Infiniti out of the driveway and waved goodbye to Lara. In his rearview mirror, he watched as a huge Chevy truck towing a large trailer pulled in front of his house.
Arriving at his place of work, Eric slipped his key card into the security slot and made his way to the sixth floor of the luxurious Stroudwater building with a 180 degree ocean view. Filled with opulent antiques and expensive furnishings, his office was a show of wealth. As it should be, for his clients were loaded with money, like the one that was arriving this morning at 9:00 AM sharp. Ali Farouz was a new client and Eric was champing at the bit to get his hands on this man's fortune. He had the initial meeting with him a week ago and even though Farouz asked him to carry out some financial tasks that were not exactly legal, Eric was more than happy to oblige. He had ways to move money around so that it wouldn't be detected. Eric was eager to please his new client, with the hope Farouz would bring more men in white robes his way bearing enormous fortunes.
~ Ben ~
On the secure satellite phone, Ben was working with an FBI agent to get a trace on all of Ali Farouz's financial transactions. An hour later the agent contacted Ben and said Farouz was in Portland Maine and dealing with a financial advisor named Eric Henderson. Ben sat at attention in his chair. "Are you certain?" Ben asked the agent on the secure line. "Yes, sir, I'm completely certain." the agent confirmed. As he hung up the satellite phone it rang once again. This time it was Nazmin in Pakistan. "Here's the name you need to drop from Pakistan. This guy's on board and if you use his name, he will vouch for you. Abdul Kahn. Make Ali Farouz aware that Abdul Kahn sent you to work on the project called Sparrow. You will be a Pakistani doctor well-versed in anthrax disbursement. Get identification made up; your name will be Doctor Malem Hadad." Ben hung up and memorized what Nazmin said. He researched anthrax and all of its properties. He studied exactly how an aerial disbursement using small drones over a huge football stadium might work. If the terror attack was successful, the tiny airborne particles would descend upon the people in the stadium and they'd inhale the tiny grains without knowing. Anthrax particles were barely visible, let alone detectable. Within two days the victims would contract anthrax, which had the same symptoms as flu virus. By the time the victims got treated they'd be dead. Anthrax was an incredibly deadly bacterium that caused rapid respiratory distress, usually a quick bout of pneumonia that led to immediate death.
Ben spent hours studying aerial views of the compound and figured out where the anthrax was being stored. His preferred method of execution was blowing terrorists up with C4. But, that might not be the method he would use in this mission. His major concern was the presence of innocent victims – women and children living on the compound against their will. He had the dossier of the famous Dr. Malem Hadad in front of him. He’d get fake credentials prepared and concentrated on his acting role. He had to be convincing as a scientist and impress the terrorists with his expertise. No more shaving. This time he needed to grow a real beard and get into character. He called his usual passport and forgery expert, Rusty, and got all of the paperwork lined up, including a perfect looking Pakistani doctorate degree in Bio-Molecular Science.
~ Eric Henderson ~
Ali Farouz waddled into Eric's office promptly at 9:00 AM. The receptionist asked the visitor if he would like tea and offered him other treats, but he waved her away in an angry manner. When the big man pushed Eric's office door open he spat an order at him, "Sit down." Eric automatically complied. The fat man ranted for a few minutes, "My daughter is missing and I am angry about that. I must find her." Eric didn't know what to say to Ali Farouz about his missing daughter, but he managed to get a soft-spoken apology out, “I’m sorry about your daughter, your highness.” Just as Eric spoke, the angry man abruptly changed the subject, "I need to move some money to Springfield to these accounts and I don't want it to be detected." Farouz handed a slip of paper with routing and account numbers scrawled on it. "I will pay you well to do this…$300,000 in cash." Eric looked the accounts up on his computer while keeping one eye on Farouz. The man seemed totally agitated today and Eric didn't want to make his mood worse. The amount of money Farouz was asking to move was in the millions and Eric informed him, "This large amount of money will be traced, questions will be asked." Farouz instantly became upset. "Then do it in smaller amounts a little at a time. I don't care how you do this, put it into your account and move it. I want it to be undetected. It has to be in those accounts within a month."
Eric did not want to put the money into his own account. That was too risky. However, he did have a few clients' accounts he could use to park the money. He'd set up automatic transfers that would eventually be directed to the chosen destination. "Consider it done…" Eric extended his hand for a handshake but Farouz had risen from his chair. "I'm leaving now. If policemen come here, you never saw me. I will contact you by phone from now on. Tell no one about this." Farouz already had Eric's personal cell number. Ali Farouz left the building and Eric watched from the large office window as he wedged his hefty body into a white Mercedes SUV and the driver pulled onto the busy boulevard. Eric wiped his trembling hands on a towel in his private restroom as he realized his palms were sweating.
~ Grant Hawkins ~
Hawk saw the black Infiniti pull away and figured that the man who looked like a male model was the owner of the purple Victorian. His attention, however, was immediately drawn to Lara standing in front of the house. She was a picture of loveliness in the perfect white sheath that skimmed her long lean body. The floral silk scarf loosely draped around her neck almost disguised the fact that she didn't wear a bra. However, he had good eyesight and could tell she wasn't wearing one. For a second, he let himself wonder if she was wearing panties. Then he chastised himself for thinking such things. He had to focus on the project.
Hawk smiled as he got out of the truck and gave her a little wave. He hoped he looked more presentable today. He had showered and shaved and actually put on a dab of aftershave and used deodorant. These were things he hadn't done since his wife died. He even went so far as to clean and press his clothing. He wasn't sure why he was trying so hard to impress her. He told himself it was just good business to be hygienic. Lara was all business as he approached her. He removed his hat and she spoke in that sweet feminine voice, "Good morning, Mr. Hawkins…" He put his hand up, "Please, call me Hawk." Lara held the check out to him, "Here's the one-third down…Hawk." He quickly examined the check and slipped it into his poc
ket. "So, you're not taking any of this?" he smiled. Lara explained, "No, I had the homeowner make the check out to Secret Gardens. I won't take a percentage." He couldn't stop the little smile that played on his lips. Hawk was thankful for her generosity. He said, "I won't ask why." His hazel eyes twinkled as he scanned her beautiful face.
Hawk strolled slowly with Lara through the enormous project to make sure she knew how it would be executed. He found it difficult to concentrate on lilacs, roses or tree plantings as he glimpsed at her beautiful face while walking next to her. Her profile was delightful. Her hair was thick and healthy, pinned into a loose chignon at the nape of her neck. The only thing he could think about was the exotic vanilla scent she wore and how lovely her rose-colored lips were when she spoke to him. "I just finished up a project early, so demolition can start today," he told her, "and I should be done with demo in three days. I'll work even if it rains. Not if it pours, but if it's light rain, I'll push right through." Lara smiled and thanked him. She signed the contract on the hood of her car and he watched as she drove away. He exhaled a sigh of relief. He called his foreman and said, "Hey, when are you guys coming?" The voice on the other end of the phone said, "We're coming with the excavator right now. We pulled the permits to dig yesterday. And we're bringing a shitload of coffee!"
~ Lara ~
Lara picked up Monique, her reliable intern, and drove to the brick mansion in the West End. Diana Farrington was to meet her today for a walk through. The renovation was coming along well and Lara was more than happy with Monique's performance on the job. The girl was a natural. As Lara approached the Farrington residence, she glanced next door where Nadia had lived with her abusive father. The refined home was silent and appeared to be empty. But a shiver ran though Lara as she thought about what had taken place there. While in the Farrington place, Lara gazed out of the window facing the Farouz residence. She could have sworn she saw figures moving about inside the house. Aware that Bettencourt was searching frantically for Nadia’s abusive father, she sent a quick text to him letting him know there could be someone there.
Encountering Evil: Dark Horse Guardians Book Two Page 10
