by Ana Leigh
“Bishop, the point is she doesn’t realize she knows something important. It’ll come to her one of these days. Do you ever discuss the case with her?”
“Only the attempts on her life. She wants nothing more to do with the Space Consortium, and once she goes back to Kourou and packs up, she intends to return to the States, settle down with the kid and resume her career.”
“Where are you staying in New York?”
“In a borrowed apartment’s secure.”
“What’s the address?”
“I don’t know. It’s in Manhattan.”
“Well, I want to hear from you every day, is that clear?”
“Yeah, yeah. When’s Prince Charming due back?”
“Same time you are.”
“Okay. Call me if you hear anything further on Breton.”
Mike hung up and went back and joined the others. Ann looked up hopefully and he shook his head in answer to her unspoken question. “Nothing. No sign of him.”
“You figure someone whacked the lawyer the same as Burroughs?” Bolen asked.
“Can’t say. Could be wherever he is a cell phone might be worthless, but it seems odd that if his radio isn’t working he wouldn’t put into port somewhere and call.”
“A lot can go wrong on a boat,” Fraser said. “He could have had an accident or a fire.”
“According to Waterman he’s alerted several coast guards in surrounding countries. There’s been no report of any fire or debris in the water. Trouble is without knowing where he was headed no one knows where to start looking.”
“You mean it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack,” Ann said.
“Close,” Mike said, “except a haystack is stationary which is a start at least.”
“Baker got any theories?” Kurt asked. “He’s got the brain for this kind of situation.”
“He’s on leave and not due back until we are.”
Mike sat back and observed the two men and Ann together. This was the first time the Dwarf Squad had gotten this close to anyone they rescued. In the past as soon as they’d returned from a rescue mission, he and the rest of the squad would no longer be involved with that individual.
He knew Cassidy well enough to recognize that his second in command liked Ann. So did Williams and Bledsoe. There had been a lot of bonding between them.
Seems like he was the only one whoever had a cross word with her. They’d clashed from the time they met. Chemistry? The chemistry between him and Ann was boiling over. Last night it took every particle of willpower to keep his hands off her. He was too damn involved with her: trying to keep her safe; her problem with Brandon’s custody. They’d become his problems now. And when the person who was trying to kill her was apprehended, the SOB would have him to deal with.
Kurt and Don finally went to bed, and Ann went into her bedroom to dress for her appointment with Barney Hailey. Since Mike and Cassidy were on watch, they’d accompany her to the restaurant where she was meeting Hailey for lunch.
Much to Ann’s relief Barney was already seated and waiting for her. She’d have hated to sit alone with Mike and Dave peering at her from a nearby table.
It was so good to see ex-boss again. Short in stature, Barney reminded her of an aging Mickey Rooney. His hair was disappearing as fast as his waist was expanding, and he always moved with a hurried step and an unlit cigar perpetually clenched between his teeth.
A legend in the advertising world, he’d won countless awards as a photographer for his unique shots of athletes and models. Fifteen years earlier his wife, Gertie, had persuaded him to come out from behind the camera and start his own agency. Under his keen direction it had become one of the busiest in the industry.
From the time Ann worked for him, they’d always had more than a working relationship. Barney had hired her right from college and taken her under his wing. Due to his tutelage she’d learned what to look for through the lens of a camera, and within a year could recognize a good shot as well, if not better, than many who had years of experience.
Childless, Barney and Gertie had kept a watchful eye over her like protective parents, and Ann would often spend vacation summers at their home in Connecticut.
Barney had been devastated when his beloved Gertie passed away five years ago, and had thrown himself wholeheartedly into his business to cope with his loss. His accounts had doubled and he even had gone back to taking some of the shots himself.
For Ann, Gertie’s death had been like losing her mother all over again. A year later she met Clayton Burroughs. As much as she hated leaving Barney, he had plenty of accomplished photographers; so, suffering with burnout and the need to have a big change in her life, she accepted Clayton’s job offer. Barney understood her reason for leaving and remained the Dutch uncle whom she could always phone whenever she felt homesick.
Ann told him the whole story of Clayton’s death, the attempts on her life and the legal struggle to gain custody of Brandon. He was clearly concerned for her welfare, but saw her need to get her life back on track. He gave her a shooting schedule for the following morning.
When they finished lunch, upon leaving, he stopped at the table where Mike and Dave were seated. Barney made no attempt to introduce himself or shake hands, but said simply, “Don’t you fellows let anything happen to this gal.” Then he picked up their lunch check and moved on.
By the time they got back to the apartment after stopping by the office to pick up some camera equipment and film, only four hours remained of their watch. Mike and Cassidy split up the hall shifts to two hours for each of them, and Dave took the first shift.
Ann changed into slacks and a blouse then joined Mike in the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink?” he asked, popping a can of beer.
“Just water,” she said.
“So what did your boss have to say about your predicament?” he asked.
“He’s concerned for my welfare.” She grinned. “I told him I was in good hands.”
Mike took a drink of the beer. “Your confidence is flattering, Ann, but I’d like to get this over with.”
“Not anymore than I would, Mike.” She picked up her glass of water and strolled over to the weight room where Kurt and Don were working out. Mike followed her.
“So this is how Kim Barrington maintains her gorgeous figure,” she said, glancing around her. The room was better equipped than many health clubs. And the squad members were not wasting the opportunity.
Kurt and Don were bare-chested and wearing shorts. They had beautiful, well developed and proportioned bodies, and both had worked up a sweat. Their lithe bodies glistened with perspiration.
Ann couldn’t resist the temptation. She got her camera and starting snapping some candid shots of the men.
“Do you intend to use those shots professionally?” Mike asked.
“Haven’t given it any thought. Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering. It could hurt their careers.”
“You mean in the CIA?”
“I’m not talking about Harper’s Bazaar, Hamilton.”
He walked away.
Ann continued taking shots of them. She even got them to pose together for several more.
Later, after Mike went out for the hall watch, Kurt found some board games in the family room. For the next couple hours Ann and the three men played Trivial Pursuit. At eight o’clock Kurt and Don took over the watch, and Kurt turned on the television set.
With his duty over, Mike put on sweats and started to work out. Dave and Ann played a game of Scrabble.
He beat her mightily in the game, spelling several words she had never heard of before. It wasn’t until they were through that he confessed he’d graduated summa cum laude from the University of Virginia.
Ann shook her head in bafflement. This was such an amazing group of men. And there had to be a story behind why a man who graduated with a highest distinction from college would risk his life in a Special Ops squad of the CIA, when he probably could
have anchored himself behind a cushy desk with a seven-figure salary in a Fortune 500 company.
As soon as Mike finished his workout, he showered and went to bed. She had failed to get at least one candid shot of Mike working out, and he made it clear he didn’t want his picture taken.
Ann smiled to herself. If Mike Bishop thought he was going to get away without her getting a shot of him, he was sadly mistaken. She’d get her picture before it was all over.
Chapter 16
The last few days had passed without incident and Ann had fallen easily back into the routine of life behind the camera lens. In fact, other than her separation from Brandon, things were going so smoothly that she’d relaxed and once again began to doubt she ever had been in danger.
She was explaining this to Mike—unsuccessfully, from the skeptical look on his face, at breakfast before she left for work.
“Trouble is, Mike, people always fixate on old-fashioned superstitions such as…deat always comes in threes…or something like the seven-year itch in marriage. Clayton’s murder has cast too heavy a shadow on everything that’s followed, so when the simplest mishap occurs, it’s human nature to stretch the imagination to try and relate it to his death, rather than to mere coincidence.”
“Really,” he said, and popped a piece of doughnut into his mouth.
He wasn’t giving one bit of credibility to what she was saying. Frustrated, she turned to Cassidy. “Dave, do you understand my point?”
“I understand what you’re saying, Ann, but not necessarily your point, because that same theory could be reversed. Because of old-fashioned hang-ups we tend to sluff off mishaps instead of giving them the attention they deserve.”
“Dave, don’t waste your breath,” Mike said. “I’ve been over this with her, time and time again.”
She sighed when he strode away. His temper was becoming shorter with every passing day. They had really begun to get on each other’s nerves. They’d been together day and night for more than two weeks—and it sure wasn’t a honeymoon.
She had the mental challenge of renewing her career, while he was stuck with a job he didn’t even want. He was used to action, and being holed up most of the time in hotel rooms and this apartment was really working on his nerves.
She could relate to that. As much as she’d grown to love the guys in the Dwarf Squad, it was difficult living with four men, and she looked forward to the day when she’d be on her own. When she could walk to the kitchen in her nightgown, or not make sure the bathroom door was locked when she went into shower. Not that any of the men had invaded her privacy. She was just aware they were around.
She had lived alone for too long and enjoyed that solitary life. She knew she would have to adjust to the same problem when Brandon moved in with her, but until then, interacting with people all day was enough for her; she welcomed the sound of silence at the end of the day—no radio, no television and no big men with their heads in the refrigerator every time she looked.
But above all, she needed to distance herself from Mike Bishop. He dominated her thoughts. It would be good to see how she’d fare without him around. Not for security reasons, but for that time-immemorial battle of the sexes. It was hard to convince herself she could get along without him when her heart started beating every time he was near. She hoped that there was a ring of truth to that old out-of-sight, out-of-mind adage, because she sure was aware of him when he was around.
The drive to work was quiet—that is to say in the interior of their car. The yellow cabs were out in full force. Mike was his usual reticent self, and Dave concentrated on the driving.
To explain their daily presence on the shoot, Barney was passing off Dave Cassidy as his nephew learning the business and Mike as Ann’s overly zealous boyfriend. The excuses gave both men the opportunity of remaining near Ann at all times, without appearing to interact with each other.
Ann got special pleasure out of observing the two men during the day. Mike could barely conceal his boredom, but Dave was enjoying the experience immensely. The tall, good-looking agent had caught the eye of more than one of the models, and there was a lot of joshing back and forth between him and the women.
Mike hadn’t failed to notice the rapport that had developed the past few days between Cassidy and the models. In passing, Mike said, “Cassidy, keep your mind on what you’re here for.”
“Same to you, buddy,” Cassidy said.
“Your point?”
“Objectivity, Grumpy.”
Once back in the chair he’d been occupying, Mike thought of the remark. Cassidy was right. What in hell was wrong with him? He was acting like a love starved schoolboy. He couldn’t remain objective when it came to Ann. He was hot for her. Was always uptight around her. And took out his anger with himself on her.
And he was going frigging out of his mind worrying if something would happen to her!
He leaped to his feet when he recognized the man who approached Ann as she was wrapping up the shoot for the day. How did Ricardo DeVilles know where to find her?
The noose was tightening again.
He hurried over to where DeVilles was fawning over Ann. DeVilles appeared not to be as surprised to see him as Mike had been when the Brazilian showed up. He ignored Mike, mumbled a few words to Ann that Mike could not hear, kissed her hand and then departed.
“How did DeVilles know you were in New York?” Mike questioned as soon as Ann climbed into the car.
“I have no idea, unless he spoke to someone at the State Department,” she said.
“That wouldn’t explain why he knew where to find you in New York.”
“Gee, Agent Bishop, do you suppose he might have called Barney’s office and found out?” she asked. “I did leave his number with the British.”
“Or it could be you called him and told him where to find you.”
“I did not call Ricardo to tell him where I was,” Ann declared through gritted teeth. Mike’s paranoia was driving her crazy. He didn’t trust any of her actions.
She was getting angry with him again, and she didn’t want to argue. “I thought of a great theory today while we were using those astrological symbols as a backdrop. Maybe instead of you guys protecting me, I just need an astrologer,” she said, shifting to a more frivolous mood. “Maybe my star is on the descendency, Mercury is about to collide with Mars, or some such cosmic cataclysm, and that’s why these strange accidents are happening to me.” She chuckled at this latest bit of whimsy. “Why not blame it on the stars? That’s as good an excuse as any to explain coincidence.”
“Or to dismiss what you don’t want to accept,” Mike said. He turned his head to the window and didn’t speak the rest of the ride.
It wasn’t until later when she finished dressing for her dinner date with Ricardo that Ann realized she hadn’t told Mike she was going out to dinner. She put the finishing touches to her hair and pinned it behind her ears with clips, then stepped back for a final inspection. As she slipped on the black sand with the three-inch heels she thought of the last time she wore them. Mike had taken her to that delightful Italian restaurant in D.C. He had kissed her that night. Deep in reverie, she stared into the mirror and unconsciously raised her fingers to her lips—she could still feel that kiss.
A light tap on the door jarred her out of her reverie, and Mike came in. As usual he didn’t wait to be asked.
“I understand you’re not eating…”
He stopped in mid-sentence and stared at her. She was wearing a black dinner gown with spaghetti shoulder straps and a skirt that flowed to her knees. “Where in hell do you think you’re going?”
“I’m going to dinner with Ricardo,” she said, adjusting an earring.
“No, you’re not.”
She spun around. “Mike, I am not a member of your squad, so I don’t have to take your orders. Whether you like or not, I’m leaving.”
“Do you have a death wish, Hamilton?”
“I didn’t, until I met you.”
“You’re not leaving.”
“Just watch me.”
She picked up her purse and shawl and walked past him. It was a short-lived victory. When she stepped out into the lounge, Cassidy put down his newspaper and stood up.
“Going somewhere, Ann?”
“Out to dinner, Dave.” She punched the elevator button. Fortunately the programmed card key wasn’t needed to get off the floor, because Mike had it.
“Alone?”
“I’ll be joining Ricardo DeVilles.”
“Sorry, Ann. I can’t let you leave until I clear it with Mike.”
He’d no sooner spoken than Mike came out and handed Dave his suit jacket. “Let’s not make this too late a night, Hamilton. We all need our sleep.” To her further displeasure Kurt and Don joined them.
Ann glared at Mike, the elevator pinged, the doors slid open and she stepped into the elevator.
The four men followed.
Ricardo had reserved a table at the Starlight Room of the Waldorf. His disappointment was evident when Ann joined him accompanied by Mike.
“This is an unexpected pleasure, Mr. Bishop,” DeVilles said when Mike sat down at the table.
“Now, you really don’t mean that, DeVilles,” Mike said.
“I’m sure he doesn’t,” Ann said, “but at least Ricardo is displaying considerably more graciousness then you deserve, Bishop.”
The waiter hurried over and added a plate setting for Mike. DeVilles was too stunned to even notice the three men who’d followed the couple in and were seated at a nearby table.
“Just ignore him, Ricardo. I do
“That would be quite difficult, my dear. Mr…. ah, Mike, I applaud the conscientiousness you bring to your job, but would you be offended if I asked you to sit at a different table?”
“Matter of fact, I would, DeVilles,” Mike said. “As you’ve said, I take my responsibilities seriously. And Miss Hamilton is my responsibility. But don’t worry, pal, I’ll pay for my own dinner.”
