by DiAnn Mills
The two met at a popular French restaurant close to Vicki’s apartment. Her sister looked a little green, not at all like her normal peaches-and-cream glow. They stood in line to place their order. The delicious aroma of delicate pastries and fresh bread filled the air.
Kariss took a second look at her sister. She needed to be in bed. “We don’t have to do this. We can go someplace quiet and talk, or reschedule.”
Vicki inhaled and slowly exhaled. “I’ll be okay. It’s wearing off, and the baby needs to eat.”
“At what expense?”
“I’m the mother, and it’s my job to make sure proper nutrients are available to my baby.” She smiled weakly.
“You’re right, and here I am making inappropriate remarks. Why don’t you find us a table, and I’ll place the order?”
“Sounds good. I’d like a bowl of soup. Whatever looks good, but not dairy based. Kariss?”
Here it comes. “When were you planning to tell me about your shoulder?”
“Oh, I can right now.”
“Go for it. I’ve gone through a dozen scenarios in the last few minutes.”
Kariss blinked. “I was jogging, and a cyclist hit me.”
“He must have run over you.”
“It was a she.” Kariss, you need your mouth washed out with soap.
“When did this happen?”
“Wednesday.” That part was true.
Kariss placed the order and learned it would be a few minutes before they were served. She found her sister sipping on water. “I hate this for you. I thought the throw-uppies were over. Can’t you take something to stop the sickness?”
“The doctor prescribed medication, but I’m concerned how it might affect the baby.”
“Isn’t it FDA approved?”
Vicki nodded. “I want the best for this little girl.”
“It’s a girl?”
“A pink and frilly bundle.”
“Wonderful. Now I know how to shop. What names do you like?”
“I’m thinking Kendal.”
“Nice. How are you spelling it?”
“K-I-N-D-L-E.”
Kariss startled. Being pregnant had shaken more than her sister’s abdomen. “Why not Nook or Apple or Sony?”
Vicki cringed. “Hadn’t thought of that. Guess I’ll not be creative in the spelling.”
Kariss touched her sister’s hand. “You can spell your little girl’s name any way you want. I don’t even care if you name her after Grandma.”
“Myrtle?”
They both laughed.
“I want to take you up on your offer to move in.”
That made the whole week worth it. “Fantastic. When?”
“Is a week too soon? My rent’s due in two weeks, and I wanted to be out by then.”
Kariss’s mind raced with the thrill of helping Vicki through the pregnancy and with the baby. “Perfect. What else is going on?”
“I heard from Wyatt.”
Just the sound of his name soured Kariss’s stomach. “What’s he up to?”
Vicki pressed her lips. “He wants a paternity test.”
“Oh, he’s priceless.” She had a mental picture of their dad taking off after him with a cleaned shotgun and his worn Bible.
“Can’t believe he’d even think such a thing.” Vicki wiped her perspiring forehead. “Especially since he’d been to see me more than once.”
“He was unfaithful, and he wants to believe you’d stoop to the same level.”
“I was wavering about the amount of child support payments, but his latest accusation has pushed me over the edge. He wiped out our bank accounts, and now he can make a few deposits for the sake of his child. I’m going for all I can get. I think his live-in must be pressing him for the paternity test. Blonde and Sexy must see dollar signs floating out the door.”
“I’m glad you’ve gotten smarter about him, but I know it hurts.”
“This gets worse. He called me while I was on my way here. Wants to talk about the whole pregnancy thing, so I asked him to meet with both of us. I hope you don’t mind.”
Kariss wanted to stand on the table and dance. “I love the idea. No way is he going to browbeat you with me glaring daggers into his baby blues.” She paused, thinking through what she hadn’t revealed to her sister about Wyatt. “He came on to me a few times before and after you separated.”
Vicki blinked. “I’m … I’m not surprised. The more I think about this baby, the less I’m thinking about him. New me, huh?”
“That info will keep me from slapping him in the face.”
“Restrain yourself. He just walked through the front door.”
Kariss refused to look at Wyatt until he seated himself at their table. She nearly exploded in laughter. The fifteen-year age difference between Vicki and Wyatt had never been a huge issue, but now his face looked as smooth as a baby’s rear. Botox must be a way of keeping his new wife happy.
“Vicki, Kariss, it’s good to see you,” he said.
“Wish I could say the same.” Kariss tilted her head. “How many vials of Botox did it take to smooth the plowed lines in your face?”
He smiled. “Glad you noticed. Looks like you’ve had a little accident. Trip over your ego?”
Ouch. He’d gotten her good.
He focused on Vicki. “You’re looking a little green.”
“Thanks. Look, Wyatt, I have no intentions of swapping who looks the worst here. All I want to know is what you have to say. Kariss and I would like to enjoy our lunch.”
“I’ll make it brief. I’m willing to pay for your indiscretion so we can go on with our lives.”
“I have insurance to pay for the baby, but there’s a deductible. My attorney will draw up the papers for child support.”
He reached for her hand, and she snatched it back. “Your girlfriend would not approve. You’ve touched me for the last time.”
You go, Vicki.
“I think you’ve misunderstood my meaning. I’ll pay for an abortion. That will end the problem, no matter who’s the father.”
Vicki stood, her face crimson. “Why, you disgusting piece of trash.” She picked up her glass of ice water and tossed it in his face. “Get away from me, you filthy pig.”
Wyatt wiped his face with a paper napkin. “You are sadly mistaken if you think I’ll pay one dime to support your brat. I have a life, and that doesn’t include every-other-weekend visits or contributing to your diaper fund. I already have one kid to support, and that’s my limit. Here I thought we could get back together, but this proves your irrational attitude.”
Kariss clenched her fists to keep from tossing her own water at him, along with her hand across his face.
“And you’ve just proved how selfish you really are. My attorney will handle our communications, and I’ll send you the bill for the paternity test.”
Wyatt scooted back his chair and stomped away from them. Kariss thought he was leaving the restaurant, but he headed for the bathroom. People seated around them stared.
“Do you want me to go after him?” an older man said. “It’d be my pleasure.”
Vicki’s gaze flew from him to the bathroom. “I’m tempted. But I think hurting his cash flow will be my best move.”
“I was ready to toss my Dr Pepper at him,” a young mother said. “Hope your next relationship is an improvement over this one.”
Vicki smiled. “From now on, it’s just baby and me.” She sat down, her hands trembling.
“Are you okay?” Kariss said.
“Tummy is whirling.” She lifted her chin. “For the first time, I stood up to him. Can’t believe it.”
“And a grand job you did too. Daddy would be proud.”
She giggled. “I’m a little embarrassed, but I feel good at the same time.”
“Wyatt’s the one who made a fool of himself.”
“How could I have been so blind for so many years? Now I sound like our parents. Next I’ll be quoting Scripture.”
“This is cause for celebration,” Vicki said. “I’m a new, independent woman, about to be a mother.”
“And you’re moving in with me.”
The figure of a man sitting at a table across the room caught Kariss’s attention. She met his stare, and she remembered where she’d seen him before. He was Arnold Bates, the interviewee from the FBI office, the man who’d had gun smuggling information for Tigo and Ryan. She’d heard the agents talking about his possible involvement with Operation Wasp. That also meant he could be thick with the Arroyos.
Bates waved, and she returned the gesture. He pulled his cell from his shirt pocket and pressed in a number — or took her picture. She shuddered. The memories of the night Tigo and Ryan saved her life at the hospital sliced through her. Did she have any reason to be alarmed? Who was Bates calling?
He scooted back his chair and left his plate of food. Surely he didn’t plan to start a conversation with her. Two back-to-back confrontations were a stretch. Instead he walked to the door and followed Wyatt outside.
A coincidence?
Kariss stared out the window to see Bates had stopped Wyatt. The two men exchanged a few words, and Wyatt pointed to the restaurant. The men must be acquainted. She let out a pent-up breath.
“You look pale,” Vicki said. “Do you know the man talking to Wyatt?”
“Possibly. He looks familiar.”
“I don’t want to give Wyatt the satisfaction of staring.”
Kariss shrugged. “Seemed strange that both men left here at the same time and then decided to have a conversation. He’s probably taking Wyatt’s side in the little show we gave them.”
“A man thing, I’m sure. Sis, where’s your Jag?”
“I have it in storage and bought that hot little Prius.” She pointed to the parking lot. “It’s not a gas hog and has surprisingly good zip.”
“I thought you loved the Jag.”
Kariss smiled. “I still do. That’s why I didn’t sell it.”
A restaurant worker cleared Bates’s food from the table. Outside she noticed the two men shaking hands. Should she tell Tigo about this? Would it make a difference in the investigation?
CHAPTER 37
Saturday morning, Kariss sat in the concealed-handgun workshop. She listened to speakers talk about gun safety, the reasons to have a CHL, and stories from those who’d survived a dangerous situation because they knew how to handle a weapon. Some of those she could use in a book.
She’d chosen to take the workshop first and the shooting portion later. To qualify, she needed to shoot fifty rounds, and she’d never held a gun before purchasing the 9mm.
Tigo arrived midmorning and talked briefly about the FBI, encouraging the participants to get involved in their communities to help fight crime. Kariss wanted to stand and shout she knew him, but she restrained. He reminded the participants of the responsibility of having a CHL and that crime fighting was for those trained in the field of law enforcement.
At the end of the day, Kariss was glad she’d pursued her concealed handgun license and even more glad she’d chosen to take the workshop before the shooting practical. She took the written test and felt good about her answers. All she needed now was to learn how to load and shoot. Hitting a target sounded like an impossibility.
When the class was over, she left the building, mindful of her throbbing shoulder. All she wanted was to pick up something to eat and crawl into bed. While she ordered soup and salad at Panera’s, her cell rang. Tigo. He must be in a protective mode.
“Did you make it through the class?”
“Yeah. I think I did fine on the test.”
“You sound tired.”
“I am. Long day, but it was worth it.”
“Do you feel up to the shooting range tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow afternoon sounds good.”
“How about I pick you up around two? Not so sure a woman healing from a gunshot wound should drive to a shooting range. Sounds like you need FBI protection.”
“I drove myself today. Are you asking me out?”
He chuckled. “I want to make sure you learn how to use your 9mm correctly instead of developing bad habits.”
“You’re right. I’ve never had a date at a shooting range.”
“Kariss, go home and take a pain pill.”
She hated it when he was right.
The idea of learning how to shoot a gun gave Kariss a headache. One more time, Tigo reminded her to breathe deeply. The shooting range looked like one on a TV crime show: neat and clean. A group of fathers and daughters had walked in ahead of them … a wise move on the fathers’ part.
“I can’t seem to stop shaking,” she said. “And I’m embarrassed, like everyone knows I don’t know how to do this.”
“This is my recommendation.” Tigo touched her arm. “If you don’t think you could ever shoot anyone, or you’d be too nervous to defend yourself, then this is not for you.”
“I want to learn.” She rubbed her sweaty palms against the sides of her jeans. “I’ll pull myself together.”
“You purchased the 9mm for protection, and the first step is to become acquainted with it. Learn to be calm.”
“All right. Where do I begin?”
“Hold the gun in the palm of your hand. It’s not loaded, and the safety is on. Get to know every part of it so you feel comfortable.” He placed the gun into her hand. “Don’t ever point at something you don’t intend to shoot. When you’re ready, we’ll move on to loading it.”
The gun felt hard, like a small machine. She expected it to have a mind of its own. “I’d never have made it in the Wild West.” She did her best to sound light.
“Handling a gun during those times would have been as natural as cooking on an open fire. Respect its power.”
“My dad should have forced me to learn gun safety instead of giving in to my fears. I did enjoy archery. Did well in it. Dad said I had a good eye.”
“Owning a gun may not be for you, Kariss. That’s why we’re here. Owning and operating a weapon is serious business whether it’s a gun, a bow and arrow, a knife, or a can of Mace.” He stepped behind her and massaged her shoulders, coaxing the tension from her muscles and being careful to avoid the tender spot on her left side.
A jolt of something she didn’t want to feel for Tigo swept through her. “Thanks. I appreciate your taking the time to teach me.”
“No problem. I’ve got a stake in keeping you alive.”
“My testimony will help you nail at least one of the Arroyos.”
“True. But you’re a friend, too, and I’d like to keep you alive.” His breath tickled her neck.
Should she step away before he sensed what he was doing to her? “You’ve helped me research my novel, and I really want to do something in return besides bringing you coffee every morning. I want to point him out in a lineup and testify in court.”
“Then understand what you’re doing now is part of the price.” He gave her right shoulder a pat. “Ready?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now let’s hold the gun properly as though you were going to aim at a target. Don’t put your finger on the trigger until you’re ready to fire. Use two hands, one over the top.”
“I’ve seen cops hold a gun like this on TV.”
He smiled. “They got that part right.”
“Then you put the bullets in a clip?”
“It’s called a magazine, and your semi-automatic holds thirteen rounds. I’ll show you.”
Tigo inserted the magazine and handed the gun back to her. “Focus on the target with both eyes. Line up the sights, the back with the front.”
Kariss followed his instructions. “My eyes feel so dry. But at least the earplugs I’m wearing will mute the sound. I bet it’ll be loud.”
“Blink and clear your m
ind of everything but the target. Now, slip the tip of your forefinger over the trigger. Pull the trigger gently. Remember to breathe.”
She wanted to squeeze her eyes shut, but instead she listened to his voice gently walking her through the process. The gun popped, and she realized how tense her shoulders were.
“Good job,” he said. “You have a good eye.”
Kariss whispered a thanks. “And I have to do fifty of these for my CHL?”
“Yes. Are you ready to keep going?” He studied her a moment. “I have an idea.” He took a pen from his shirt, pulled the collar of her shirt aside, and wrote something on her bandage.
“Did you autograph my shoulder?”
“No. I put a smiley face on it.”
By the time she finished the fifty rounds, Kariss realized several magazine loads of confidence. Her aim was good. Better than good. But that didn’t answer the dilemma about her ability to pull the trigger if a man wanted her dead.
CHAPTER 38
Monday morning, Kariss was glad to be back at the office. Although the bandage on her shoulder was not a fashion accessory, she did feel a little proud of it, like she carried a medal of honor embellished with Tigo’s smiley face.
Some questions about Tigo surfaced, but she needed time to analyze them. Beneath his problem-solving, mastermind exterior was a man capable of deep emotion. His devotion to his mother proved it. And she refused to dwell on how his massage had rattled her.
Tigo peeked around the entrance to her cubicle. “Good to see you back, Agent Walker.” His dark-chocolate eyes twinkled. “Maybe someone should license you for a gun.”
She wiggled her nose at him. “Very funny. In six weeks or so, I’ll be able to protect myself.”
“In six weeks, we’ll have those bad guys put away. You just use your head, okay?”
She appreciated his concern and thanked him.
Her cell phone rang, and he left her alone. She didn’t recognize the caller but answered anyway, wincing a little. Shooting practice yesterday had made her other shoulder tired.
“Hi, Kariss, how are things going in the new job?”
