by Terry Spear
“I agree. We do. I guess it’s back to home base and see what the boss needs us to do next after we clear up this last problem. You’re due for a break though, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Yeah, long overdue. I was supposed to get one two missions ago, but it’s been so hectic that Martin wanted me to go with you on this one, since I’ve been here recently.”
Melissa closed her eyes. “Well, it’s been fun working with you.”
“This isn’t over yet. And it might not be for a while. The guy’s a hunter, been living in the tropics forever. His American parents were biologists working in the Amazon. He was born in Venezuela, and he knows the jungle life.”
With the flooding, some roads were underwater, the swamps had spread, and the rivers had expanded. Trails were also underwater in some areas, and everything was muddy. So, it wouldn’t be an easy trek out. They could have managed it as jaguars, but they had to hike their gear out.
For four days, they followed Jackson’s trails—where he’d crossed the swamps, where he’d pitched a tent—which meant he’d had the presence of mind to grab gear from the boat before he had run off. They finally located his scent trail where he’d exited the park. They’d been too late.
Irritated, muddy, wet, and tired, they arrived at the cabin resort bordering the park where they’d been staying. The place was mostly empty because of the rainy season. Of the ten units, only three were occupied.
Melissa cleaned up first while Huntley took care of their gear. It was just something they’d started to do. He’d let her shower first, and he’d clean their equipment. Then he’d shower, and she’d cook a meal. She was a hell of a lot better cook than he was.
While Melissa was making final preparations on the meal, Huntley called Martin. “No luck finding Jackson. He left the park, and we have no idea where he’s gone now.”
“All right. Pack it up and return home,” Martin said. “The other men shouldn’t be a problem for a while. Maybe some jail time will cure their need to poach. As for Jackson, I’ll have some other agents try to track down where he might end up next. Your mission is done.”
Vastly disappointed, Huntley didn’t feel like the mission was over. He had never let one slip away like this, not that they could help it.
“All right. We’ll report in when we arrive home.”
“And you’re due for a vacation.”
Huntley wondered if Martin was trying to tell him something. That he’d slipped up because he’d needed a break. He didn’t want one now. He wanted to catch Jackson. On the other hand, a break was much needed. And sometimes taking one really helped him to think more clearly.
“Do you want to talk to Melissa, boss?”
“Yeah, put her on, will you?”
Huntley handed Melissa the phone, wishing he could work with her on another assignment. They were completely compatible, and it was nice working with a woman for a change. But he couldn’t come out and say that to the boss. Not when Martin would begin speculating that something more was going on between them. Oh, hell, yeah, she was appealing as a partner—and nice to look at and smart and fun to be with when they could let down their hair a bit. But beyond that, neither of them was interested in dating the other, not when they both were seeing someone. And Huntley didn’t want to come off as some Casanova when he was dating someone else.
“Hey, boss. Have something new for me to check out?” She glanced at Huntley and mouthed, “Food’s ready.”
“I’ll serve it.”
He headed into the kitchen and heard Melissa say, “A week? Sure, okay. Anything else? All right. Talk later.”
She rejoined Huntley and sat down to eat a meal of rice and beans, pork, and fried plantains—typical Costa Rican fare.
“Delicious,” he said, forking up another piece of pork. “You could be a master chef if you ever decided this life wasn’t for you.” On their last assignment a month ago in Belize, she’d also made the most delightful native dishes.
She smiled. “Thanks. I don’t think I’ll ever want to give up the life of protecting our kind and cousins and taking down the nasties.”
“What about when you have kids?”
“Oliver’s not interested in having any. Not that I am either. Makes it difficult for someone like me who’s away so often. I’d…want to be home with them, raising them, if I had any.”
Huntley had wondered during their last mission how her boyfriend had felt about her teaming up with single, male jaguar shifters on some of these missions where they shared such close quarters.
He’d met Oliver once during a Golden Claws office Christmas party, and the man had looked way out of place. Couldn’t be helped, really. Oliver sold life insurance, so not exactly a dangerous way of life. Most everyone serving with the JAG was a field agent with lots of training, all wild cats who could live comfortably in jungle habitats during operations and were used to the adrenaline rush in dangerous situations. He’d never heard of Melissa vacationing with Oliver in a rainforest or jungle environment either. Huntley suspected Oliver wouldn’t want kids because he’d be the one stuck taking care of them when Melissa was away on missions.
“What about Genista? Is she looking to settle down and have some cubs?” Melissa asked.
The last time Huntley and Melissa had worked together, they had talked about their education, places they’d lived, that sort of thing. Nothing really this personal. It was different when he was with the guys. They talked about hunting and fishing, past missions, and the like. They often compared notes on who had the most dangerous missions. If they didn’t heal completely with their enhanced healing, they’d most likely compare battle scars.
“She’s like you, not wanting to give up her Golden Claws assignments. Not just yet.”
“I can understand that. We took years to train for a worthwhile cause. It’s quite a challenge to think about staying home with a cooing baby or two—or more because of our jaguar genetics.” She shook her head and took another bite of her rice.
Melissa had checked out the tranquilized cubs to make sure they were all right, both while waiting for the police and after they had arrived. Earlier, when she had spied the mother puma and cubs, he had seen the way she had looked at the cubs—worried that they had lost their mother. Which had worried him too.
He wasn’t sure Melissa was being totally honest with herself or with him. She seemed to have the mothering instinct and would have taken care of the cubs in a heartbeat if their mother had been killed.
Now with Huntley? That was totally a different story. He wasn’t ready for fatherhood and had much preferred having Melissa take over with the cubs on this mission. He’d take down the bad guys. It wasn’t a case of male chauvinism. Just that she had the natural instincts on how to care for the cubs, unlike him.
“So, I take it you’ve got a break in assignment. Planning on doing anything fun?” Huntley asked her.
“If I can get Oliver to take off from work. He tends to be a workaholic. What about you?”
“Genista’s on assignment in Panama at the moment. I had no idea how long this case would take, and she has no idea about hers either.”
“I thought Martin would have the two of you working together from time to time,” Melissa said.
“I was working with my brother on a case down here, and she didn’t want to have to wait for me to return.” He hated how that sounded. The truth was that Genista had been like that ever since they’d started dating six months ago, jumping at the chance to go on a mission that wouldn’t include him, being gone when he returned, or vice versa. In this business, it couldn’t be helped sometimes. Unless they worked together. But every time he had brought it up, she’d gotten all negative on him.
“Oh,” Melissa said, as if she didn’t know what else to say.
Huntley knew he and his girlfriend’s relationship didn’t sound like it was going anywhere. He’d known t
hat for a long time, but he’d still been hopeful they could work things out.
He shrugged. “I’m going to miss your cooking.”
Melissa gave him a bright smile. “I’m glad you like all of this traditional fare. Oliver is strictly a meat-and-potatoes guy and doesn’t like to try anything new.”
“Not me. I think that’s part of the enjoyment of visiting other countries. Not eating at a hamburger joint or a fast-food fried-chicken place, but tasting the real local cuisine.”
“I agree.” She took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh. “I sure wish we could have nabbed Jackson before he fled the scene of the crime.”
“Yeah, I hated losing the bastard. He might not end up back in the park, but I suspect he’ll be back to poaching before we know it.” Huntley helped Melissa clean up the dishes. He would have done it all, but she always wanted to help.
Then they packed, went to bed and, early the next morning, took the bus ride to the airport. They were quiet, half dozing on the trip home, the knowledge that this was the start of their downtime kicking in. Since he had driven Melissa to the airport for the trip to Costa Rica, Huntley had to drop her off at her place, a neat little condo with a no-kids policy. Maybe she wasn’t really interested in kids.
Before they arrived at the condo, he wondered how Oliver would act this time. When Huntley had brought Melissa home from the first mission they’d worked on, Oliver had been a real prick, acting irritated with both of them for some perceived slight. Last time Huntley was on a mission with her, the guy had been working late, and Melissa was visibly relieved. This time? Who knew.
After half an hour, they reached the two-story, redbrick condo in the Dallas suburbs. Oliver was watching out the window, dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt. No smile. No coming out to greet Melissa. Sour-faced and looking pissed, he had his arms folded across his chest. Maybe Melissa’s relationship wasn’t going anywhere either.
Huntley warned himself off thinking in such a way. Maybe Oliver was afraid of him. Huntley smiled a little at the notion and waved at the man anyway. Oliver didn’t acknowledge the greeting.
That didn’t bother Huntley, but what did was the icy reception Oliver was giving Melissa. She’d risked her life in the jungle, was tired, and needed a man in her life who would welcome her home with open arms, a loving embrace, and one hell of a scorching kiss. At least, if Huntley had been her boyfriend, that’s how he would have handled the situation. He’d have shown her partner that he had what it took to be Melissa’s boyfriend—and no other jaguar shifter need apply.
“Sorry, he must have had a rough day,” Melissa said, but she didn’t sound like she really thought that was the problem. She sounded like she was curbing the urge to growl, ready to take Oliver to task for being so rude.
Huntley hoped so, and he hoped that would straighten the guy out. She certainly deserved better treatment.
After saying good-bye, Huntley drove home to his place in the Dallas suburbs ten miles away. He was ready to relax, watch a movie, kick back, and just become a mushroom for a couple of days. He called Martin to let him know that both he and Melissa had arrived safely as he unpacked his bag, dumping half his clothes in the washer.
“Good. Glad to hear you’re both home all right.”
“Have you learned anything more about where Jackson went?”
“Nothing. I’ll keep you posted.”
Martin was good about stuff like that. Even if Huntley never had a chance to take Jackson down, Martin would keep him informed about who did.
“Anything really hot going on?” Huntley asked, already feeling out of the loop.
“Nothing for you to do. Take it easy. Enjoy your break. You’ll be at it again soon enough.”
“Thanks, Martin. I’m chilling.” At least Huntley was trying to. If Genista was here, it would be a different story. Then again, maybe not.
“Good. Talk to you later. Have an incoming call from your partner.”
Huntley smiled. He had beaten Melissa by a few seconds. “Talk later.”
He started his laundry and made up a batch of popcorn, already missing Melissa’s cooking. He cooked, but somehow the way she fixed meals seemed so effortless, and they tasted a whole lot better than his attempts.
He plunked himself down on the couch to watch TV, but then gave Genista a call. “Hey, got home and wanted to check in with you.”
Silence.
He frowned. “Are you still there?”
“Yeah.”
“So, how are things going on your mission?”
“They’re going, all right?”
He paused, considering her situation. “Can’t talk right now?” He understood all too well how difficult it could be on a mission, but he’d just wanted to make a connection with her. Let her know he was fine and ensure she was also. “Are you okay?”
“I’ve got a job to do. All right?”
Okay, this wasn’t what he had expected. “Yeah, I got it. Do you want me to ask Martin if he could cancel my leave and I can join you to help with your assignment?”
“No! Huntley, what you see in ‘us’ is totally one-sided. I don’t want anything more than…”
He waited, wondering why the hell he hadn’t seen the signs that their relationship was this much in the toilet. Or maybe he had. He’d been working so hard, and she had also, that he’d thought the problem was just that. Hot under the collar now, he said, “Is there someone else?”
“No,” she said, her tone softening. “It’s not like that. I just…I just don’t want what you want. I don’t want you to believe there’s really any future in us.”
“Oh…kay. Well, where do we go from here?”
“I already moved out. I put in a change of address for my mail. I’ll see you around the office. We can still work missions together, but that’s it. Okay?”
He couldn’t believe it without seeing it for himself. He immediately rose from the couch and headed for the closet and looked inside. Sure enough, all her clothes were gone.
“Sure.” But it wasn’t okay. He’d met her on a mission, fell head over heels for her, and thought that what they had was something special. Except ever since she’d moved in with him three months ago, she’d been pulling back, finding excuses to be absent or on a mission. God, how could he have been so clueless? “All right. Well, I’ll let you get back to your mission then.”
“I’m sorry that it didn’t work out,” she said.
“Yeah, me too. But better that we learn about it sooner rather than carrying this too far. It just would have been nice if you’d let me know before you moved out on me.”
Silence.
“Okay, well, have a safe mission.” And he meant it with all his heart.
“Yeah, have a nice vacation.” And then she ended the call.
He felt numb. He called his triplet brother, Everett, but he was in Venezuela on a mission, and Huntley couldn’t get hold of him. He might have been running as a jaguar. He tried calling his sister, Tammy, but all he got was her voice mail. She was probably working with her new mate, David, on training some shifter teens as future JAG agents.
Huntley decided he should just watch TV to get his mind off Genista and the last mission, and just, well, chill. He turned the TV on and flipped from one channel to another. Nothing appealed, not sports, or mystery, sci-fi, fantasy, police procedurals, nothing. He couldn’t quit thinking about all the signs Genista had given him that she was interested in calling it quits…signs he hadn’t paid any attention to.
It was seven o’clock. Screw this. He turned off the TV, left the partly eaten bowl of popcorn—now cold—on the table, and headed for the jaguar shifter club. Maybe he’d see one of the agents there, have a drink, and at least express his frustration about losing Jackson. Genista? He didn’t want anyone to know he’d lost her this week as well.
Chapter 3
Oliver totally fried her biscuits. Melissa was tired from the Costa Rican mission. Frustrated that Jackson had slipped out of their grasp. And she didn’t need Oliver’s attitude about now. Yet she realized she’d been bracing for this because as soon as she had returned from each of her last three missions, he’d been sullen, sulky, and then angry with her over absolutely nothing. Itching for a fight. Provoking one. She was sick of it. When she returned from a mission, she wanted romance, togetherness, peace, quiet, and recuperation.
“You could have been civil to Huntley Anderson. He was my partner on the mission, and he was trying to be friendly. You could have had the courtesy to come outside and greet us and at least say ‘hi’ back to him,” she said, slamming the door after her as she hauled her bags inside without Oliver’s help.
She had really never given it much thought before, because she always dragged her own bags into the condo after a mission and was perfectly capable of doing so. But she wondered now if it was his way of passively aggressively telling her he wouldn’t aid her because the bags represented her time away from him. So fine. Act like he wanted her home and they’d work on things!
Ignoring her comment, Oliver began talking to her about all the sales he’d made while she was gone. She dropped her bags on the floor and headed for the kitchen for a glass of water, not interested in anything he had to say if it was all about his work.
Oliver followed her into the kitchen. His blue eyes were narrowed, and he was scowling at her. She knew that look. He was ready to create a scene. For not being a wild cat, he could sure get all growly with her.
“You don’t care anything about what I do, do you?”
“I’m exhausted,” she said. “It was a long trip. Huntley and I had a rough time of it.”
Oliver looked even more pissed that she would mention Huntley in the conversation again.
“We lost one of the bad guys, and I need time to decompress,” she continued.
“Hell, Melissa. I see the way the two of you are all chummy.”
She scowled back at him. “Don’t you start on me again about working with the men in the agency. They’re professionals.” Though she’d known a couple who hadn’t been, but Martin had fired their butts. “We work together to bring down the bad guys and rescue the cats. That’s it. We’ve been through all this before.”