Roger's Return

by Davis, Mary

  “Please don’t run, Jackie.”

  “I won’t.” Her voice was eerily calm and quiet.

  He scrutinized her. What was she up to? He might be able to figure it out if he weren’t distracted by the other feelings she caused in him. He had to stay focused to keep them all safe and alive.

  He pulled into the next low-end motel where he had rented a room. They couldn’t stay in one place very long. He couldn’t give Sweeny the opportunity to track him and catch up to them. He wished he could do better for her, but they had to stay inconspicuous and have more than one way out. The fewer people who saw them, the better.

  He let Jackie go about the room caring for RJ’s needs while he kept an eye out for unwanted visitors. It was best that way. So far no one had caught up to them. He only had to keep this up for a few more days. He would meet his contact, Troy Peppermill, tomorrow to get things rolling and hoped the man wasn’t playing for the wrong team. That was the mistake Moore had made. Trusting one wrong man. No black or white hats to tell the bad from the good. And they easily deserted given the right encouragement or a bullet.

  ❧

  Jackie’s head was throbbing. She sat on the corner of the bed nearest the bathroom, rubbing her temples. Roger stood in front of the mirror; he had finished shaving and was reaching for his shirt. She let her gaze wander to his bare back. She sucked in a quick breath at the sight of a round pucker of skin on his right shoulder. Only one thing made a scar like that. Roger spun around. She stood and gasped at the matching scar on the front of his chest. She extended her hand slowly and touched it. “The bullet went clear through.”

  The scar was old and well healed. “When?”

  His jaw tightened. “Call it an anniversary present.”

  Suddenly it all crashed in on her. Maybe he had been telling her the truth. Was someone really after him? She let her finger slide down to his side where a long, jagged scar meandered around to his back. It was fresh and still pink. “What’s this one from?”

  He sucked in a controlled breath as he worked his jaw. “A piece of scrap metal I failed to dodge.” He seemed to be having trouble breathing.

  She traced the scar. “You didn’t have these before.”

  “No, I didn’t.” Roger grasped her hand. “Please don’t do that.”

  Startled, she looked up. “I wouldn’t think it still hurt.”

  “It doesn’t. I’m just finding it difficult for you to touch me.”

  Her insides flipped. She saw her husband as she once had, with the clutter and pain of the last two-and-a-half years dissolved. “Why did you leave me?”

  “To keep you safe.”

  She cupped his face with her free hand. He leaned into her touch. Slowly he moved closer to her, inch by inch. She slid her hand around to the back of his neck, and his approach hastened. Their lips connected, and she felt it was right to be here with Roger. He was her husband, and she belonged with him for better or for worse.

  Suddenly a terrified voice cried out. “Mama!”

  She turned. “I’m here, RJ.”

  Roger returned to his watch post. The spell had been broken.

  Again she slept with RJ nestled against her stomach and Roger her back. And she woke draped across Roger’s chest again. This time she didn’t move. Roger didn’t say anything, but she sensed he knew she was awake. She could see his scars in her mind. A bullet wound. The bloody cell phone. The recent gash on his side. It must have been awful for him. What was he mixed up in?

  ❧

  Roger pulled up to the curb across the street from the corporate headquarters of ICOM Electronics with Jackie and RJ behind him on the motorcycle. He had wanted to leave them at the motel, leave them out of this. If he were sure they’d be safe and would still be there when he returned, he would have. He’d had to weigh the risk of bringing them here with the risk of not. Neither was good. Jackie and RJ used to be safe without him. Now they were in danger with or without him. At least with him he would know when danger lurked nearby.

  He watched the building. A tall, slender fellow in his twenties wearing a dark suit stepped out of the ICOM building and crossed the parking lot to the southwest corner. This could be his man. He would know soon enough. The man looked around, anxious about something. If he was the one, he should be anxious. This was a dangerous game. The man looked up and down the street and scanned the parking lot, then walked back into the building.

  If that wasn’t his man, where was he? Come on, Troy Peppermill. Where are you? Without the CD he needed someone on the inside more than ever. It wasn’t easy to trust a stranger with your life and the lives of your family.

  The man in the dark suit reappeared twisting a blue baseball hat in his hands. So maybe you are Troy. When the man reached the southwest corner again, he straightened the hat and punched his hand into it.

  Come on. If you’re Troy, make up your mind to play or not and put it on.

  The man rubbed a hand back and forth over his mouth and pulled the hat snug on his straight, brown hair; a big white M for Mariners stood out on his head. The signal it was safe.

  Roger drove down the street and U-turned at the next light. He pulled up to the ICOM building on the west side where the building met the street and parked his motorcycle at the curb. He glanced around and walked close to Jackie carrying RJ as they moved alongside the ICOM building to the parking lot side. Jackie had been quiet and compliant ever since they’d left the motel. But he felt an undercurrent. What was going on inside her head? Did she sense his tension? Was she scheming something? He had to trust she wouldn’t bolt on him.

  Two older men approached Troy. Roger stopped and put his arm in front of Jackie to keep her from taking another step. He pressed them all against the side of the ICOM building out of the direct line of sight of the three men.

  No! If those two men were who Roger believed them to be, they suspected Troy was helping him. Troy must have been careless, and they’d caught him. Troy had been his best hope.

  Roger’s whole body tensed like an over-wound rubber band ready to snap. Should he wait until the men left? Or run now? He needed Troy to finish this. He took a couple of calming breaths to clear his head.

  Troy removed the hat and tapped it on his thigh. That was surely a sign not to approach. The men pointed to the hat, asking about it. Not company issue, Roger could imagine their saying. Troy pointed to the dark sky. Looks like rain, Troy would reply. Roger hoped they didn’t ask him whom he was meeting. He couldn’t chance Troy’s slipping up or one of them turning around to see him.

  Roger backed his family up and made a quick departure. One of those men, he was sure, was Fillmore, Sweeny’s keeper. They’d already killed Moore. Troy could be next if they suspected he was meeting him to pass him information. They would watch him more closely. But as long as they thought they could track Roger through Troy, he’d be safe—for now.

  But had Troy been compromised? Would he change sides? Could he be bought? Roger would try to contact Troy tomorrow.

  Eleven

  Roger had passed down this corridor before. The doors too close together. Escape impossible. A dark cloud closing in. Run! He took off down the endless hall of doors. RJ cried from behind one of the doors. He skidded to a stop. Which one? He tried a door but couldn’t open it. He rammed his shoulder into it. He tried another and another. RJ cried from behind each one. None of them would open. The dark cloud spread and grew closer. Like hot breath on his neck.

  “I’ll come back for you, Son. I promise.” He ran on.

  Jackie called to him. He stopped again and banged on the door. “Open the door.”

  She kept calling his name. “Roger, help me.”

  “Open the door!”

  “I can’t.”

  He knew she could. The door opened from the inside. They all did. The darkness intensified and reached out for him. He ran again. RJ and Jackie cried and called to him from behind every door. The grotesque shadow had nearly overtaken him. He had to keep running
or Jackie and RJ would be in peril. “I’ll be back. I promise. I’ll come back for both of you.” He would run until they were safe.

  “Wake up.”

  Roger woke in a sweat.

  Jackie caressed his arm. “It’s just a dream. Shhh.” Her voice was slurred and still half asleep.

  “I’m awake.” Another bad dream she had to wake him from. How many times had she done that in their marriage? He took his Glock from under the pillow and rolled off the bed. Stepping to the window, he pulled the curtain back a crack. The parking lot was still, the street quiet. Three a.m. He was finished with sleep for the night. RJ had never been in that nightmare before! His son had never been so real to him before.

  Troy Peppermill with Fillmore. Had he been compromised? Would he change sides? He had no way of telling. Troy was still his best bet at this point. But how could he contact him with an unwilling wife and toddler in tow? If he could be sure they would stay put, he would leave them behind. He would try to contact Troy tomorrow—or later today. Now that he knew what the man looked like, he could catch him off-guard, maybe at the grocery store or walking his dog if he had one.

  Jackie joined him at the window and reached in her pocket, pulling out a coin. “I don’t have a penny, but I have a quarter.” She spoke softly. Though she didn’t mean to, her voice had a husky rasp to it.

  He let the curtain drop and looked from the quarter to her face. “I was just thinking about Moore.” He kept his voice low too.

  “Mr. Moore, your boss?”

  He nodded. “He was more a friend than a boss. We went to college together. People always mixed us up or mixed up our names. I got called Roger Moore a number of times. Ironic. We even sat in on each other’s classes. We looked enough alike that the professors either didn’t notice or didn’t care.”

  “Does Mr. Moore have a mole on his cheek?” She touched her left cheek.

  How would she know that? She’d never seen him. “Yes.” He heard her labored breaths.

  “Where is he—now?”

  “He’s dead.” It was hard for him to admit.

  She gasped. “Our anniversary?”

  “Yes.”

  She acted as if she was going to sit down, but no chair was behind her. He grabbed her upper arms and held her up. “Jackie, what is it?”

  She struggled not to cry but was losing the battle. “I saw him. In the morgue.”

  He pulled her to him and held her. “I’m sorry.”

  “I didn’t know it was him.” She shook her head into his chest. “They thought it was you. It was awful.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “I never knew his first name.”

  “Jim.”

  She lifted her head off his chest. “You said you were still working for him. How?”

  “I’m finishing what we started. He’s dead because I refused to pull out. He was eager to get these guys too. But if I had pulled the plug, it all would have stopped. He’d have left the company and still be alive.”

  “So you’re doing this to avenge his death or something?”

  “I’m in too deep now to pull out. They know about me—and you. I was stupid to think I could protect you. I didn’t know how big this was when I met you. Maybe if I had focused more attention on this job instead of always thinking about you, I could have finished this sooner and Moore would still be alive. I didn’t want to lose you, but it was wrong to get married while I was working on this.”

  Jackie pushed away from him and slapped both hands on his chest.

  He grabbed her wrists. “Wait.”

  “Leave me alone. I’m just a mistake in your life.”

  “No, no, you’re not. You and RJ are the only right things in my life next to God.” Though she struggled, he held her against him. Lord, what more should I say to her?

  The truth.

  He knew. “Jackie, you’re not a mistake. Marrying you was right.” He took a deep breath. “Where I went wrong was this job.” She stilled in his embrace. “The Lord urged me not to get involved. I chalked it up to my being restless. I wanted to help Moore. I thought I could handle it. I should have pulled out the day I met you. I’m so sorry for everything.”

  He held her for a long time. It felt good to have her against him. He kissed the top of her head and the side, her temple and down her cheek until he found her mouth. He was tentative at first, but she responded.

  She disengaged her lips and snuggled up to his chest. Holding her again felt so right. What was she thinking? He knew where his thinking would lead, and he had to stop now. It was already hard enough being so close to her and not giving in to his desires. He would be content with what he had for now.

  She pulled away. “I’m going back to bed. Are you?”

  He touched her cheek and caressed her hair. “No, you go ahead.” He watched her climb back into bed next to his son. He marveled that he had a son! It still amazed him.

  With the way Jackie responded to his kiss earlier, then again a few minutes ago, he had real hope for their future together. He had to stop thinking about her that way or he would go crazy. It was much safer thinking about Moore and how he’d let his friend down. That would drive him crazy too.

  Moore had suspected it had been a trap, but Roger thought they could handle it and end it once and for all. It had ended for his friend, all right. But Roger’s torture lingered on. Sensing the danger looming on the horizon, Moore had given him the CD earlier that day.

  He walked to the bed. Jackie’s even breathing told him she was asleep. He touched her silky brown hair fanned out on the pillow, then stepped into the bathroom to shower away the sweat and fatigue.

  ❧

  Jackie lay on her back and stared at the red light blinking on the smoke detector attached to the ceiling. She listened to the water running in the shower. She was sure Roger thought she was asleep before leaving her unattended. What was going on with him? She had seen no tangible evidence of his troubles. Except his word and his scars. Was that enough? Or was it an elaborate scam? He could have acquired those scars anywhere and was only claiming someone was after him. She didn’t know what to think. It was all so unbelievable. She wanted to trust him, but he was still keeping things from her. Was this like one of those wild stories on “That’s Incredible”? Could she believe everything Roger told her? Or had she been swindled by a master con?

  This was her chance to run. She should get up, grab RJ and the diaper bag, and leave. The covers felt heavy, pinning her down. The light blinked on the ceiling. The water ran. RJ breathing deeply. Her racing heart. Everything seemed exaggerated. The light. The water. The breathing. Her heart. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. The water shut off. Thump, thump. Blink. Breathe. Thump. Blink. Breathe—

  Lord, help me.

  I’m here.

  What should I do?

  You already know.

  Trust? But how? I don’t know how. Please show me.

  The bathroom door opened, and Roger crossed the room.

  Would he come back to bed or sit in the chair and wait? He checked out the window, then sat in the chair by the door. After a few minutes, he checked the window again and sat. He kept checking and sitting. Was this proof of his restlessness? She drifted off to sleep.

  “Wake up!”

  Jackie woke to find Roger standing over her, his eyes wide with panic. He threw back the covers and pulled her up to a sitting position.

  Fear gripped her. “What’s wrong?”

  “We have to leave—now!” Roger lifted RJ into his arms and grabbed her wrist, pulling her behind him. He released her and opened the door a crack. They inched out and around the side of the building.

  She caught a glimpse of a man in a dark coat searching for something—or someone. Her own panic rose to paralyzing proportions. Was that who Roger was running from? Roger pulled her along after him.

  Behind the motel she barely had time to secure RJ’s helmet before Roger set the motorcycle in motion. He drove around town, across one bridge an
d back on the other. He made one stop for gas and drove again. He finally stopped at a motel in Bellevue across Lake Washington from Seattle. Once inside he stood at the window, peering out between the curtains.

  Jackie set RJ on the bed and headed for the door. “I left the diaper bag. We have to go back and get it.”

  Roger grabbed her elbow to stop her escape. “No, Jackie. Consider it gone.”

  “No, we have to get it!” She tried to pull away.

  He steadied his grip on her. “It’s just a diaper bag. We can buy another one.”

  He didn’t understand. She twisted to free herself. “It has stuff in it.”

  Roger backed her up and pressed her against the wall, pinning her shoulders. “It’s not safe. We’ll replace it all. Let go of the diaper bag. Don’t fall apart on me now.”

  She stopped fighting. “Not everything can be replaced.” She let her head fall back against the wall. “Oh, Roger. I’m so sorry. I wanted to know what was more important to you than me.”

  He stared at her in silence.

  “My sitter’s teenage son is a whiz with computers. I thought he might be able to help me figure out the password. It seemed like a logical place. I always have RJ’s bag with me. I thought it was safe.” She could see understanding slowly nudging out the confusion and questions.

  “No, Jackie. You didn’t.” He rocked his head back and forth. “You had it this whole time and kept it from me?”

  She managed a slight nod. She had to hold onto it. It was all she had.

  His eyebrows knit together in shock and disbelief. “Why, Jackie? Why?”

  Tears welled up in her eyes. She shook her head. “You wouldn’t tell me anything.”

  “No wonder you got bent out of shape when I was changing RJ’s diaper. It wasn’t the diaper but the stupid bag.” His grip on her shoulders tightened. “You knew it was important to me.”

  “Yeah, more important than I am. I was afraid you would leave again. Isn’t it the reason you came back? Once you had it, what would stop you from vanishing again?”

  “Yes, I came for the CD but not so I could leave again—so I could stay!” He released her and walked across the room. “The information on that CD not only will put a good many people behind bars, but it will clear me. I’ll be able to stop running.”