JUDGING ELLIE

by Catherine Snodgrass

The officer flipped his book closed and tucked it into a leather pouch on his belt. "Sounds like someone just got a little crazy. Happens all the time in parking lots. People get in a hurry. Kids race their cars through here."

  Ellie forced a smile. "I thought as much, too."

  The officer glanced toward the manager who hovered nearby and raised his voice. "About the only cure would be to install a few speed bumps." After being assured Ellie was physically fine and in no need of an ambulance, he bid them good night and left with his partner.

  The manager faced them once more. "I’m really sorry about this. I’d at least like to replace your wine."

  "It’s not necessary," Ellie said. "This is hardly your fault. And I’d just like to get home."

  Another apology, another offer followed. Again Ellie refused. Finally, he acquiesced and returned to the store.

  Ellie sagged against Kurt. "Did you make the call?"

  "Yes, Agent Alderman said they should be there by the time we get you home."

  She nodded and tried to slip free. Kurt held her in place. "I’d prefer to drive you home. Leave your car here in the lot. We’ll pick it up later."

  * * *

  Frankly, she’d prefer it, too. She might put on a good face to the world, but her insides still quivered. And there was no telling where those men were now.

  "Let me get the steaks—"

  "I’ll do it."

  A chill curled around her bones in the absence of Kurt’s warmth. Loneliness so all-pervasive she wanted to cry started to seep in. It was all Ellie could do to keep from clinging to him like a limpet when he returned seconds later. She chalked it up to the stress of the moment, yet still let him tuck her under his arm as they walked to his car.

  How in the world could she begin to explain everything to him? It all seemed like a half crazy coincidence to her, so how would he understand? Would he believe she just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? Would he believe Susan had tried to use her as bait? If the situations were reversed, would she believe him? For God’s sake, they had only known each other for four short days. Could she ask him to just trust her?

  Ellie let the powerful Impala’s leather seat cradle her aching bones and thought about what she was going to tell Jess and his agents. She’d listened to thousands of hours of court testimony. A good attorney could rip apart her feeble explanations in less time than it took to utter them. She’d always applauded the tenacity of a good investigator. Now here she was on the opposite side. Ideas she previously dismissed as too far-fetched had returned to roost on her door step. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be the one on trial.

  "Care to tell me what’s going on?" Kurt asked as he accelerated into traffic. "Or are you going to send me away when this Duncan person arrives with his gang of agents?"

  She rubbed at the ache in her head, then told him the whole story. Kurt listened without interruption, gaze riveted to the road before him, fingers clenched around the steering wheel. Ellie didn’t know whether that was in her favor or not.

  They reached her place before the agents. Still silent, Kurt guided Ellie to the front door with a gentle press of his hand to the middle of her back. Once inside, he tossed the steaks in the refrigerator.

  "I’ll cook those later. Did you want to get cleaned up before they get here?"

  Ellie glanced down at her clothes—ruined. And she was filthy as well.

  "Trust me," he assured her. "They can wait the fifteen minutes it takes you to wash and change. You know you’ll feel better for it."

  She had to agree. Dirty as she was, Ellie couldn’t bear to sit on one of the kitchen chairs. It was bad enough she’d gotten Kurt’s beautiful car dirty.

  She trudged upstairs, stripping off her sweater as she went. Hades greeted her on his masterly descent to the kitchen. A feline sneeze announced his opinion of her appearance. Tail flicking, he meandered on. A healthy meow ordered Kurt to feed him. Ellie heard a chuckle, then her lover’s low tones as he dumped food in the bowl. The doorbell announced NCIS’ arrival.

  Ellie hurried. A change of clothes would have to do. The ruined sweater went into the garbage. The dirty pants into the clothes hamper. She slipped on fresh leggings and a red sweater, then trotted back down. Jess Alderman and Vic Brownell sat with Kurt at the wooden kitchen table. They looked up as she came into view.

  She stopped short of the door. "Where’s Agent Duncan?"

  Jess stood and pulled out the last chair for her. "He was detained and asked us to come on ahead. We’ve been talking with your friend here. We’d like to hear from you what you think happened."

  Ellie ignored the proffered chair and busied herself at the counter making coffee. "I’m sure I recognized the men in the truck. I think they’re both Marines. One’s name is McConnell. He tried to put the moves on me the first time I went to the Lost Oasis. The other’s name is Clark." She tried to describe the two men as best she could from her brief encounter with them at the club.

  Vic scribbled down a few notes. "You mean you met them when you were wearing the costume Susan Bolotnik gave you?"

  At least Duncan had filled them in on their discussion from this afternoon. It saved having to repeat it all over again. "Yes. I’m wondering if they were some of the men she’s been accused of blackmailing. They might’ve followed me home, discovered my true identity and—"

  "We’ve also linked them to Jeremy Forton," Jess interrupted. "Their fingerprints are all over his room and the house he rented. Of course they have an excuse for being at both places. They’re in the same tank company as Forton and assigned to the same barracks floor." He locked his gaze onto Ellie. "They could’ve observed you finding Forton and picking up the packet. Now they want it back."

  "Then why try to run her down?" Kurt’s chair scraped the floor as he stood. "If they wanted the drugs, why not just ransack her apartment like Forton’s BEQ and his little hideaway house out in town?"

  Vic stopped writing. By slow degrees, he glanced up. Kurt turned away and retrieved coffee mugs from the mug tree on the counter.

  Ellie’s heart smiled. You had to love a guy willing to butt into an investigation for his woman. She doubted Vic and Jess took too kindly to his interference, though.

  "I doubted they could successfully break in here without arousing at lot of suspicion," she said, as he filled the mugs. "Kurt installed some killer dead bolts on my doors and I have the nosiest landlady in the world. Unless," she faced them, "they were the ones who took the packet before the dead bolts were installed."

  Vic returned to his notes. Jess stared into his coffee.

  Kurt grabbed a spoon and stirred his mug furiously. "This is all based on the supposition McConnell and Clark are after you because of your association with Forton or you wearing the red wig. It can’t be the wig because you weren’t wearing it when they almost ran you down in the parking lot. They know you’re not Susan Bolotnik.

  "So let’s follow the drug angle. If they had this mysterious packet, there’d be no need to come after you. You said you saw no one that morning you found your friend. If they don’t have the packet, how could they connect you with the ketamine if they weren’t there to see you find it?"

  "Unless they’re afraid Forton told her something." Vic tapped his pen against his chin, and stared off into space.

  Kurt banged his spoon against the rim of his mug so hard, Ellie was afraid it would break. "Well, for whatever reason they went after her, we can’t sit back and give them a chance at her again. Lock them up."

  "And they’ll be out by morning without the proper evidence. You know…" Jess sucked up a drink, wincing when the hot liquid hit his mouth.

  "There has to be a better way," Vic interjected. "What about this person who followed you back from the grocery store? Did you get a good look at him?"

  Ellie stared blankly at him, then turned and frowned at Kurt. They were followed? Why the hell didn’t he say something?

  He avoided her gaze. "A white Grand Am. Single driver
. Stayed back far enough I couldn’t get the plate number. Once we turned into her cul-de-sac, he drove on."

  "It might’ve been nice if you’d said something to me," she said, irritated. "I might have recognized him."

  "You’d been through enough."

  "I’m not porcelain, Kurt. Just tell me the truth from now on. Don’t try to coddle me. You’re acting like a junior G-man or something."

  Vic snorted with laughter, then buried his nose back in his mug. Jess sat without comment.

  Kurt still refused to meet her gaze. Ellie braced herself against the counter. "All right, gentlemen. What will it take? I can’t live like this."

  The silence lasted a full minute. Finally, Vic took a deep breath and faced her full on.

  "We know McConnell and Clark frequent the Lost Oasis. We know they want you gone or threatened into silence about something. And while we can’t say for certain that something is either the blackmail issue or the ketamine, we do know they’ve connected you with one of their activities. Something you know is important enough for them to run you down. What that something is, I don’t know. Ellie, how would you feel about wearing a wire and confronting them?"

  Kurt smacked the mug onto the counter. "Forget it! Absolutely not!" One step took him to the table. "I will not have her life endangered."

  "She wouldn’t be in danger, Kurt," Jess said as he nursed his coffee. "We’ll be in a surveillance van nearby. We could even have a man inside the club watching her."

  Vic snickered. "Maybe we can even have Agent Duncan dress up as a woman again. He did so well the last time."

  Ellie laughed. "Now that I’d like to see. He does have the nicest lips, you know…"

  Kurt whirled around on her. "I said no."

  Ellie pressed her hands against his chest. His heart thudded beneath her fingers. It was touching to see he was scared to death for her. "I know how worried you are, but you’ve got to let them handle this. They’re professionals. They know what they’re doing. And I’m a Marine, Kurt. I’m perfectly capable of—"

  "Bullshit!" He stomped toward the front door, then whipped it open. He whirled around, face set and angry, dark eyes narrow. "Obviously, you’re going to do what you want. But don’t expect me to sit here and listen, approve, or have anything to do with this…this…this nonsense. I’ll be back when your company leaves." He slammed the door as he exited.

  Ellie shook her head. What did he expect her to do, sit around and wait for McConnell and Clark to come get her? She couldn’t live like that.

  Trying her best to hide her disappointment, she slid back into the chair. "All right, what do I have to do?"

  * * *

  Kurt cursed every stop sign between Ellie’s place and his house. The sooner he could get back to her, the sooner he could stop this madness. If it weren’t for the need to change into different clothes, he’d have simply ripped off the beard and hairpiece, popped out the contacts, and charged right back inside. He loathed this disguise and he was beginning to detest Kurt Orin. Or maybe he was just starting to hate himself for continuing to deceive Ellie.

  The day was turning into a stress-job of epic proportions. His after-lunch meeting with Vic and the DEA agent had yielded nothing except odd looks from Vic as he compared Kurt to his cousin, Tripp. If Vic suspected they were related, he kept it to himself. It was to his benefit anyway to have two Duncans on the case. Tripp was just as inquisitive and dedicated as Kurt. He had to be to survive undercover with DEA. In fact, this plan to use Ellie as bait sounded like something Tripp would cook up.

  Where was Vic’s head? He of all people should know better than to use an untrained person for undercover work. Was he that desperate to nail these guys that he’d risk Ellie’s life?

  Kurt charged into his house, ripping off his disguise as he went. Within minutes he was ready to leave, his disguise tucked into a bag under his arm to change into later. Hopefully, Vic and Jess were still at Ellie’s. He parked one block over so she wouldn’t see his car, then ran the remaining distance.

  As he rounded the corner of the street, Kurt saw a white Grand Am parked at the curb two houses down. The silhouette of a man watched Ellie’s place. Crouching low, Kurt eased up behind the vehicle to discover Lee Parsons at the wheel.

  A tap on the back driver’s side window jerked the man around. Parsons’ glower deepened when he saw Kurt. He shoved open the door. "What do you think you’re doing, Duncan?"

  "I might ask you the same thing, Parsons. Mind telling me why you’ve been following me?"

  "I haven’t been."

  "And yet here you are."

  Parsons jerked his thumb toward the condo. "Her. I’m watching her. I didn’t want her to skip town. I see your guys are in there now. You’re taking her in, and I want to watch the look on her face when she gets dragged off to jail." His dark eyes glittered with satisfaction.

  "She’s not the woman." Kurt knew it was like trying to reason with the wall.

  "The hell she isn’t. I saw her! Ain’t no other woman been in or out of that place but her."

  "Then you obviously haven’t been here all the time. I’m telling you, she’s not the right woman. Why don’t you just go home, try to salvage what’s left of your marriage, and leave this to us?"

  When Kurt tried to leave, Parsons grabbed his arm.

  "You get your ass in there and lock her up now," he snarled. The stench of alcohol billowed outwards. "Or aren’t you finished screwing her?"

  Kurt jerked free and somehow managed to suppress the urge to plow his fist into Parsons’ nose. "Go home, Lieutenant, and I’ll forget your interference in this investigation. Stay, and I’ll see you’re the one behind bars."

  "I can’t say I blame you," Parsons taunted as Kurt walked away. "She a fine little piece of ass. I’d do her again."

  Kurt kept walking. When he heard the car start up behind him, he dialed the police and reported Parsons as a drunk driver. With luck, the idiot would get hauled off to the drunk tank and be out of their hair for awhile. Now for his other problem.

  Somehow, he managed to wait patiently for Ellie to answer the door, then endured Vic’s amused smirk when he came to the door instead.

  "Well…Agent Duncan. So nice of you to join us."

  "Cut the crap," he muttered under his breath and shoved his way inside.

  "We were just finalizing our plans." The irrepressible Vic motioned him to the kitchen with a grand sweep of his arm.

  Jess greeted Kurt with a lift of his eyebrows. Ellie gave him with a nod, so different from the smile and affection she gave to his alter ego. Kurt actually found himself getting jealous. He yanked out a chair and sat.

  "So, what happened?" He listened to a terse rundown of what he already knew. Then it came. The set-up. Again, he let Jess and Vic propose their solution.

  "I don’t like it."

  Vic snorted. "What a surprise."

  Kurt’s glare kept him from saying anything more. "It’s too dangerous. She’s not trained for these situations."

  "But she’s our only link." Jess’ tone tolled defeat for Kurt. He’d made up his mind and nothing would change that. "Vic and I will set up surveillance across the street in the van. You can wear one of your infamous disguises and stake out a good vantage point before she arrives."

  His glare had no effect on Jess. The older man simply ignored him. "She needs to be rehearsed."

  "All planned." Vic plopped down beside him. "We’ll clear her absence with the Staff Judge Advocate tomorrow and practice here."

  "After my eye appointment." She flashed them all a strained smile. "I’m treating myself to contact lenses."

  That idea didn’t set well with Kurt either. Everyone would see how beautiful she truly was.

  He smacked his palm on the table. "Obviously, you’ve all made up your minds. Fine. I’ll make sure I’m in place before she gets to the bar tomorrow night."

  She leaned forward and smiled. "Any particular disguise I should look for? Hot pants? Evening gown?"<
br />
  "I’ll surprise you. Just know I’ll be there and won’t let anything happen to you."

  "Fair enough." She gave a nod and leaned back. "Although the prospect of seeing you dressed as a woman has a great deal of appeal." Bright laughter danced in her eyes.

  "Yeah? Well, I only do that in the direst of circumstances." He made a pathetic attempt at a smile. "It means I have to shave my legs. So far, we aren’t at that point, and hopefully, we won’t get there. Now gentlemen, I’m sure Staff Sergeant Severance has had enough company for one night and would probably like a little privacy." He pushed away from the table and the others followed suit.

  "I doubt you’ll be bothered any more tonight. Just keep your doors locked," he said as she saw them out.

  "I won’t be alone for long. Once Kurt knows you’ve left, I’m sure he’ll be back."

  "No doubt," Vic said.

  Kurt shoved him out the door.

  * * *

  Ellie leaned against the door long after she’d locked it. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little scared. But she couldn’t sit back and do nothing. The hard part was going to be convincing Kurt.

  A deep sigh carried her to the phone. She didn’t know if she had the energy to argue with him tonight. Maybe it was best to have him stay away until this was over. She pulled his number from under the refrigerator magnet. Before she could call, he was at her front door, knocking sharply and calling her name.

  Ellie shook her head and opened it. She’d never seen a more woeful expression, at least not on a human. "You look like someone forgot to fill your food bowl."

  He braced his arm on the frame. "As I recall, neither of us has eaten. I’ll be glad to cook."

  "On one condition." She held up a finger. "This surveillance plan is not open for discussion. One word and out you go."

  He bit his lip and knuckled the bridge of his nose, as if in pain. "Fair enough. You cook and I’ll do the dishes."

  "Sounds like a deal to me." She swung the door wide.

  Kurt stepped inside, wrapped one arm around her waist, and kicked the door closed. With one motion, he scooped her into his arms and strode into the kitchen. When she gasped, his lips covered hers, devouring them with a desperation born of fear. A muffled cry left her throat. She tossed her arms around his neck, nestled her fingers into his hair, and dragged his head to her neck. He nipped at the curve while his hands worked their way under her sweater.