“I’m glad you weren’t there, Beth.” She touched the other woman’s shoulder. A woman who’d been like a sister to her, all those years ago. What was wrong with her? As teenagers, she’d always known Beth was easily excitable and vice versa. How many times had Amanda shielded her near-sister from things that would upset her?
“I was lucky, but a lot of people weren’t.” She sipped from her water and nodded toward Beth’s baby bump. “So, is it a boy or girl?”
Beth dabbed her eyes and then ran a hand down her stomach. “I know it sounds silly, but we’ve decided to wait to find out. Guy hopes it’s a boy for obvious reasons. And I…well, I just want this child to be healthy. What about you, Mandy? Any kids in your future?”
“No.” Severe Endometriosis and the resulting hysterectomy had stripped her of the choice. Her mom had been devastated by the news. Amanda had come to terms with it long before any maternal urges could take hold.
“No, as in never, or?” Concern covered Beth’s face as if the thought of someone not wanting kids was horrifying. Maybe it was. How many more years would she have to deal with this type of question, before people stopped asking? “I plan on spoiling Jordan and McKenna’s kids rotten.”
“Oh.” She blinked a few times and then her face lit up. “Jordan and McKenna are together? They have kids?”
“Yes, they’re married and have a baby girl on the way. Incredible, right?” If someone had told her she’d say that sentence a few years ago, she would have laughed.
Beth fiddled with her charm bracelet. “Are you kidding? I guess I would have been shocked if they weren’t at least dating.” She turned to Robinson. “Has Mandy ever told you what it was like growing up with those two? Well, not that I really grew up with them, but…”
“Two years is long enough on JorKenna time.”
The other woman smiled at the play on words they’d created long ago. Amanda had forgotten how many times the two of them had hung back, watching Jordan and McKenna’s antics.
“I’ve heard some stories.” A small smile appeared on Robinson’s face.
“Jordan and McKenna work for Robinson,” Amanda said.
“There’s a shocker.” Beth laughed. “McKenna was always searching for the next mystery we could solve.”
“I know I’ll be sorry I asked, but what is JorKenna time?” He said.
She darted a glance at him. He looked so at ease, as if she hadn't dropped proverbial hot coffee right in his lap. Fine, she could follow his lead.
“It’s the two of them duking it out over whatever. Where to hang out, what to eat, if she’s going somewhere he feels isn’t safe, which lead to follow. See the pattern? They can’t help themselves. It’s like a free show.”
“And,” Beth said. “Even if they agree on something, both of them try to outdo the other. That’s how it used to be, anyway.”
“It’s still the same.” Amanda touched the corner of her head.
“Is there anybody or anything you haven’t given a nickname to, Nettles?” Robinson asked.
She and Beth laughed at the same time. The act took away some of the heaviness of the last few days. She’d missed this woman’s presence in her life. Had forgotten how much they used to talk. About everything.
Their meals arrived and an hour later, they’d finished. The waiter brought their check. Robinson scooped it up and paid before either woman could dispute the action.
“What?” he said, as he signed the bill. “It’s not often I get to eat lunch with not one, but two beautiful ladies.” Amanda caught the grin on his face and the wink he sent in Beth’s direction.
Such a show off. She hoped the smirk on her face portrayed a smidgen of disgust.
Despite that, she had to admit, she’d relaxed during the hour they’d spent chatting about their lives now, compared to the two years Beth had spent with their family.
“Let’s get together next week, okay?” Beth picked up her purse and fished inside it.
“Sounds good.” Amanda and Robinson stood.
“My treat next time.” The other woman came up with a set of keys. “Make sure you take care of yourself between now and then.”
“You, too.”
Beth hugged her. “If Eric is half the tall, dark and handsome of this guy, you’re lucky,” she whispered.
Amanda couldn’t help but chuckle at the old sentiment she used when describing her perfect man, even though she’d dated men who weren’t anywhere close to the description. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Good.” Beth released her and turned toward Robinson. “Thanks, for lunch. It was so nice to meet you.” She gave him a brief hug, her lips grazing his cheek and leaving a stain of lipstick behind. Then she exited the restaurant.
“Let’s get out of here,” Robinson said. “I’ll send CSU over to my apartment, while we figure out our next steps.”
“To do that, you’ll need to give them specifics.” She matched him, stride for stride, outside.
“It’s gotta be done.”
“I know. We’ve got to talk to my parents. After the explosion, he mentioned my dad having a secret. Then, again, on the message last night.”
Robinson tucked his hands into his pockets, as they strolled to his truck. As if this were a normal day. “Think there’s any merit to anything this guy says?”
Amanda shrugged. “We’ve got to start somewhere.”
“Alright, but you have to talk to Eric sometime.”
She stopped on the sidewalk in front of his SUV, finally able to look him in the eye for longer than two seconds. “Don’t.”
“What?” He faced her.
“Two rules.” She held up her hand, index and middle finger extended in a peace sign. “We don’t talk about that phone conversation on a personal level.”
“Do we have to cover this again?” Hands still in his pockets, he gestured in exasperation. It made his elbows flare at his sides, for a moment. “They’re just words.”
She shook her head. “We both know that’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told.”
Robinson shrugged. “Hurry up with your stupid rules, Nettles.”
“We’re not discussing Eric, my relationship with him or his possible involvement in this. Not today.”
“Are you this demanding with everyone who buys you lunch?” The Cheshire Cat grin, covering his face, did something funny to her stomach.
“You’ve got lipstick on your cheek.”
He reached up and rubbed the spot Beth’s lips had touched. “You’re just jealous.”
“Yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “I totally wanted a matching lipstick stain.”
“I’ll let you kiss my other cheek.” He patted the opposite side with his index finger.
“So tempting, but I think I’ll pass.” A laugh jumped out of her mouth, before she sobered. “Thank you.”
He tilted his head to the side, a slight smile on his face. “You’re welcome, Amanda.”
It should have bothered her how he seemed to know what she meant. That he didn’t need an explanation, but went ahead and made this awkward situation better.
For that, she’d thank him until her throat hurt.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Fighting rush hour traffic, to get to Amanda’s childhood home, didn’t weigh as heavily on Robinson’s mind as his lunch with her.
If he’d been a drinking man, he would have ordered more than the one Scotch with his meal. He’d known something was off with her, he just hadn’t expected something that…
He didn’t even have a word for it. Under any other circumstances, he’d brush it off as easily as he’d urged Amanda to do. The caller knew her, on some level, and what they’d said had shaken her. Otherwise, she would have blurted out every detail the second Robinson had shown up in the emergency room.
And now he knew why. This guy had planted some seeds of doubt, in her mind, about her life. Heck, he’d singled out her closest friends and family, before preceding to blackmail Amanda with her ow
n insecurities and thoughts. And accomplished what Robinson had never seen before. Amanda off kilter.
The pure panic on her face, as Ariana had handed over the phone, was an image he wouldn’t soon forget. And he had three separate occasions from which to recall. The hospital. The car bomb. His apartment.
All etched and categorized in his brain.
But she didn’t want to talk about it. Not on a personal level. Sure, no problem. He’d call up the Director and give him the news. Lead person-of-interest is not up for chitchat.
Not.
His life was becoming as much a mess as Amanda’s.
Robinson turned into the Nettles’ driveway and cut the engine before getting out. Amanda followed suit.
Judging from the amount of TNT used to destroy the stadium and the C4 inside Amanda’s car, this guy was no amateur. Months or years of planning had gone into Wednesday’s events.
If the profiler they’d consulted with was correct, their perp had some type of military or law enforcement background and a serious vendetta to carry out. Against Amanda? Or Charlotte?
He’d blown a hole in the side of the stadium, at a time when the least amount of people had been inside. Fluke or design?
There was no obvious connection between the stadium and Amanda’s car, other than the danger surrounding each incident. They were looking for a wolf dressed as the sickly grandmother. Except, they couldn’t identify this beast.
Robinson had peppered his niece with questions about their caller. All while trying not to freak her out more than she already was. How was he supposed to explain the destruction of their apartment? A twelve-year-old didn’t need to know any of the evils lurking in the world.
This guy had taken a big risk calling Robinson’s home phone. What if he’d answered instead of Ariana? The what ifs could fill miles of roadway, no clear answers in sight.
Amanda walked up the path, ahead of him, determination in her stride. At least lunch with Beth had centered her a little.
He quickened his pace, in order to catch up with her. “Anyone ever tell you and Beth that you look alike, Nettles?”
Amanda glanced over at him as she climbed the stairs to her childhood home. “Don’t let Beth hear you say that. It used to irritate her when she lived with us.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “I'm not sure. She colored her hair platinum blonde once, because a friend said ours was almost the same shade.”
“That's a little extreme.”
“Not when you consider she spent a lot of time in and out of the Foster Care System. I'm sure, after a while, it feels like you're only a number. I think the hair change was just her way of trying to stand out.”
Maybe, maybe not. Then again, fifteen wasn’t an easy age to deal with so much instability. No age was, really.
Amanda opened the large front door and ushered him inside, before shutting it again. “McKenna and I used to get teased about that a lot, too, surprisingly enough.”
“You guys don’t look remotely alike.” Sure, McKenna was pretty, but didn’t have the classic features Amanda did. The warm, upturned eyes, pert mouth and long legs. The power to make him feel like an out-of-sorts teenager.
“Neither do Beth and I. It’s all about perception.”
Touché.
She tucked her hands in her pockets. “Mom?” The word echoed throughout the warm colored foyer, decorated with pieces of art.
A sunset filled with vibrant oranges, yellows and reds, offset by gray clouds rolling in, caught his eye at the end of the hall. A.J. Nettles graced one edge. Would he ever find it normal to see something she’d painted? It complimented the package, but wouldn’t have been a trait he would have guessed she held in her arsenal.
“Amanda Jeanette, is that you?” A woman, somewhere in her late fifties, appeared at the other end of the hallway. A flowing, flowery kimono-type dress covered her short frame. Strands of silver highlighted dark tresses, which rested in a short bob.
“Who else?” Amanda gave the woman a hug. “How are you today?”
A giant smile covered Mrs. Nettle’s face. “Fantastic.” Her eyes lit on him, then. “Who is this gentleman?”
Amanda turned toward him and tugged an errant strand of hair from the corner of her mouth. “This is Agent Robinson. He’s McKenna’s boss.”
Huh, relegated to just a boss. That tasted bitter-sweet going down, but after the morning they’d had, it was fair. What was she supposed to say? This is the guy some schmuck is using to destroy my solid ground?
“I know who he is, dear.” She walked up to Robinson. He stood a full foot taller than her mother, but her intent, hazel gaze never wavered. It made her seem much taller. “He’s the man that’s always stealing you away from us. Although, I can see the allure. He’s quite handsome, dear.”
“Mom, that’s not…” Pink blossomed on Amanda’s cheeks.
That, he’d pay to see more often. He smiled and held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Nettles.”
Amanda glanced around the room, a puzzled expression covering her face. She disappeared down the hall and out of sight.
Mrs. Nettles grabbed his bandaged hand between both of hers, her grip gentle. “You don’t have to be so formal. Eileen works fine. I always enjoy meeting A.J.’s friends. Now, tell me, what kind of clandestine mission are the two of you working on?”
He couldn't help the laughter that bubbled out. This was where Amanda got all her spunk from. “You make us sound like super spies.”
Her eyes twinkled and a smile revealed laugh lines, which spoke of a lifetime of happiness. “Aren't you?”
“Far from it, Eileen.”
She studied him a moment. “You just take care of my daughter, Mr. Super Spy. It took us a long time to get her and I don't want to see anything bad transpire.”
How could he argue with that?
“Now, tell me what happened to your hand.” She examined it as if she could see through the bandage Amanda had carefully placed, over the steri-strips.
“Just a small cut.”
The older woman shook her head. “It doesn't look like it. Did you clean it out well?”
So, Amanda hadn't been exaggerating. “Yes, ma'am. Amanda patched me right up.”
“Well, then.” The smile reached her eyes and held so much pride, Robinson could feel the glow in his bones. “Such a good girl. Is she here with you?”
What? Before Robinson could respond, Amanda returned. “Where’s Glenda?”
Confusion covered Eileen’s face. A glassy look came into her eyes, child-like in quality. She turned toward her daughter, his hand still in her grasp. “Who’s Glenda?”
“You’re nurs—housekeeper.” Amanda’s brow scrunched together, all of her attention aimed at her mother.
“Oh, her.” She smiled. “I fired her. Now, come take a look at his hand.” Eileen turned back to him, a serene smile replacing confusion. “How did you hurt yourself?”
“Mom, he’s fine.” Distress covered the younger woman’s face, her gaze flicking to his for a second.
What was this? “Amanda’s right.” A gentle tug freed his hand from Eileen’s grasp. “It doesn’t even hurt.” Biggest lie of the century. Needles of pain burrowed into his knuckles, like hot lava running down his body. “Amanda just went a little crazy on the bandage.”
Her mom clasped her hands in front of her. “You can never take too many precautions. One nasty, little, untended cut can cause antibiotic resistant infections.”
Amanda leaned against a nearby console table, set with a decorative candle arrangement. One finger tapped against the wooden surface. “Why did you fire Glenda?”
“She doesn’t do a very good job of cleaning this house. She’d be better suited as a nurse. And we don’t need one of those.”
“Does dad know?” Amanda’s hands went to her hips as if she were the parent instead of the child.
“He’s so busy and I didn’t want to trouble him.”
“Is he home?” The usually calm voice, rose an octave.
“You just missed him. He’s at the courthouse.” She swept past her daughter. “Let me fix you both something to eat.”
Amanda spun on her heel and followed the older woman into a large kitchen. “No, that’s okay, Mom.”
By the time Robinson peaked around the corner, her mom was rooting around in the fridge. She came out with mayonnaise, mustard and a jar of pickles. Deposited them on the dark, marble-topped island in the center of the room.
Hands in his pockets, he leaned against the doorjamb. In the corner of the room, the news scrolled across the TV screen, the sound muted. There stood Scott Jonas, reporting on an apartment fire in west Charlotte. Did the guy sleep in the news van, waiting for tragedy?
“Your guy needs to eat, dear.” Eileen opened a door that led to a pantry the size of his closet, at home, and pulled out a loaf of bread. “What’s his name?”
“That’s Agent Robinson. McKenna’s boss,” Amanda repeated. She started rummaging through a stack of papers near the phone, hanging next to where he stood, her back toward her mom. “And we already ate.”
If he hadn’t been close enough to smell Mrs. Nettles’ breath five minutes ago, he’d have thought she’d hit the sauce a little early. How many times had someone thought that about his dad, in the end?
“Oh.” Mrs. Nettles pulled a butter knife from a drawer and started slathering condiments on several pieces of bread. “He’s thin, but cute. Did you take my daughter somewhere nice?”
He wasn’t a body builder, by any means, but no one had ever referred to him as thin. “Yes, Ma’am, we ate at Trendy Tuesdays, downtown.”
The older woman’s hazel eyes lit up, as she paused mid preparations. The knife covered with yellow goop was pointed toward the ceiling. “I love that place. It’s great for a date.”
***
Amanda groaned as she pressed her fingertips to the area above one eyebrow, where a headache hammered to the beat of her pulse.
She flipped through the papers her dad left near the phone. Electric bills, credit card statements and receipts for groceries mingled with a mess of housekeeping, where important numbers should have resided.
DISCONNECT (The Bening Files Book 2) Page 14
