by L. T. Ryan
He parked on the opposite side of the street, half a block away, along a stretch that butted up to a vacant lot. The car glided to a stop on the recently paved street. The smell of tar penetrated the vehicle. He and Mandy remained in the car for fifteen minutes, then they got out, walked further down the street, crossed the road, and finally made their way to the house.
When they reached the driveway, Bear saw a man with shoulder length brown hair tucked behind his ears waiting on the other side of the storm door. The guy had a trimmed beard and a crooked nose. He wore plaid cargo shorts and no shirt. As they got closer, Bear noticed stray hairs on the guy’s chest.
The man opened the door. “Thought you were never gonna come up.”
Bear nodded, said nothing.
“What’s your name?” the guy said to Mandy.
Mandy looked up at Bear, unsure. He shook his head, then looked at the guy. Brandon hadn’t given Bear the man’s name, and he assumed that went both ways.
“Whatever our contact told you is enough. No more questions, just give us what we need and take us where we’re going.”
The guy mocked a retreat and smiled. “Just trying to be cordial, my large friend.”
Bear stepped inside. He drove his shoulder into the guy as he passed. Said, “I’m not your friend.”
It wasn’t personal. Bear didn’t trust anyone. Even those closest to him had gotten him into his fair share of trouble. He often wondered what his life would have been like if he’d retreated to the woods and lived like a hermit. A bear in the woods. He could even imagine the sign saying so, carved in wood, hanging from his mailbox.
Mandy clutched his hand. She brushed up against his side as she walked. Stray strands of her hair tickled his wrist.
“Go on into the kitchen,” the guy said. “I’ve got some pancakes made, although they’re probably cold by now.”
“We just ate,” Bear said.
“I’m hungry,” Mandy said.
Bear looked at the girl, rolled his eyes. He had to remind himself that she was still a kid in many ways.
“What?” she said.
“Nothing. Go ahead, eat.” Normally, he wouldn’t allow it. But since Brandon knew they were there, Bear figured the chances of this guy doing something were slim to none. Plus, it gave him a little space to complete the transaction.
“Go ahead, sweetheart,” the guy said. “Eat as much as you want. There’s some O.J. in the fridge, too.”
Mandy pulled out a chair and sat down at the round oak table. She wasted no time, grabbed a fork and plunged it into the deflated stack of pancakes.
Bear watched her for a minute, then turned to the guy. “Let’s get down to business.”
“We leave for the airport in an hour.” The guy walked over to the kitchen island and picked up a blue folder. He opened it, nodded and added, “These are your passports and some background info.”
Bear took the passports, flipped them open. The one with his picture said his name was John James Bova, from Mission, Kansas. Mandy’s new alias was Brittany Alexis. He glanced in her direction. Blond and uppity, he thought. She’d make a great Brittany.
“Why’re we traveling?” he said.
“Vacation,” the guy said.
“What do I do?”
“Car salesman.”
Bear laughed. “Seriously?”
“No,” the guy said. “You work for the phone company stringing cable.”
Bear shrugged. “Good enough.”
“And the girl.” The guy looked at Mandy, smiled. “Well, she’s just a girl.” The guy swung his back around. His smile faded. He looked concerned. “Of course, you could leave her here with me.”
Bear noticed a slight twitch in the guy’s upper lip and dilation of the pupils.
Stinking pervert.
He restrained himself from striking the man, but did not discount the possibility of returning at a later date to deal with him.
“Just a thought,” the guy said.
“She’s staying with me.” Bear repositioned himself to stand between Mandy and the guy. “Anything else?”
“Unfortunately, you’re flying out of Raleigh, so I can’t arm you. But, I can give you the name of a guy in London who can get you anything you need.”
“That’s OK. I’ve got my own contacts.” He had no interest in being tied to the guy in any way.
“Suit yourself.” The man turned, started toward the hallway. “I’ll be back in half an hour.”
“Where are you going?”
“To take a nap.”
Bear waited for the man to disappear from view, then he walked over to the counter. A wood block sat on the counter, next to the stove top. Four knives rested in the block. Bear reached for the one with the largest handle. He went over to the table, sat down, rested the knife along his thigh.
Mandy smiled at him. A small chunk of chewed pancake fell to the table. She brought her hand to her mouth and giggled.
Bear shook his head and chuckled. This resulted in the girl laughing and sending most of the food in her mouth spraying out across the table.
“Can’t take you nowhere, can I?” Bear said.
Mandy continued laughing, uncontrollably. He joined in. They laughed for more than three minutes. And as the tears streamed down his face, Bear realized that it was the simple moments such as this one that proved he was where he was meant to be and with who he was meant to be with.
CHAPTER 34
Clarissa hadn’t been entirely surprised when Spiers told her that Jack Noble had been the man who had asked for help. She kept her expression neutral and gave no indication to Spiers that she knew Jack. Nothing about the way he responded told her that Spiers had been aware of Clarissa’s on-again, off-again relationship with Jack. She had nodded her acknowledgment and carried on with a business as usual attitude.
They walked through the station, Spiers in front, the women and girl in the middle, and Clarissa in back. She took note of every face that approached. She would have been vigilant no matter what, but now the assignment carried extra weight.
They exited the building. The bright sun negated the bite of the crisp breeze. She glanced around and saw a park about a block away. Several benches lined the sidewalk. She led the women there while Spiers placed a series of calls and arranged for a car. He had an associate close by who agreed to meet them four blocks from the station.
A short walk later, they arrived at the agreed upon spot. They did not have to wait long. The man pulled the car to the curb, got out, nodded and walked away. Simple and efficient. Spiers took the driver’s side, Clarissa sat in front next to him, and the two women and little girl sat in the back.
This was Clarissa’s first visit to Brussels. She hoped it wouldn’t be for long. Paris beckoned, although not for the right reasons. They never were for Clarissa.
They passed through the city so fast that she barely had time to register any landmarks. The city gave way to residential areas, which in turn gave way to the countryside. The women in the back spoke occasionally. The little girl asked several questions. Spiers said nothing, neither did Clarissa. For most of the drive, she stared out the window watching the sun complete its arc through the sky, her thoughts stuck on the man she tried to leave behind in D.C. In all, the ride took forty-five minutes and ended after they passed through a small village consisting of an intersection with a few homes and shops. A spire with a cross affixed to the top stood off in the distance. After they passed through the village, Clarissa saw the modest church. She assumed by the scaffolding along the right side that the town was making improvements or repairs.
“That’s it,” Spiers said, breaking a ten minute stretch of nothing but wind rush and road noise.
Clarissa looked ahead as Spiers turned onto a bumpy dirty driveway. The little house stood about a quarter-mile off the road. It looked centuries old, made from brown and gray stone. A red brick chimney rose from the roof, likely added sometime after the home had been built. There were two darkened windows in
front, about ten feet on either side of the front door.
“Who’s place is this?” she said.
“A friend’s,” he said.
“Are they home?”
“Does it look like it?”
“It looks abandoned.”
“It is.”
Spiers continued past the end of the driveway and parked the vehicle behind the house.
“We should check it out first,” Clarissa said.
He rolled his eyes, said nothing.
“Take no chances, Spiers.”
“OK, OK.” He turned sideways in his seat. “Ladies, if you’ll excuse us, we’re going to make sure the place is safe for you to enter.”
Clarissa stepped out of the car. With the sun no longer visible, the air felt cold. The exposed flesh on her arms prickled. She wished she hadn’t forgotten her coat on the train. She waited for Spiers by the side of the house, out of the wind.
“Nice bit of drama back there,” she said when he appeared.
He shrugged. “Someone’s gotta keep them feeling at ease. Should be you, but it appears you’re the one with a real penchant for drama.”
She looked over in time to catch him grinning. “Whatever. Let’s just clear the house and get them inside.”
“OK, I’ll go in. You wait by the door.”
“We both go in.”
“Just me, Clarissa. I don’t need an earful from Sinclair if something happens to you.”
“What if something happens to you?”
“It won’t as long as I don’t have to worry about you.”
“Yeah, well,” she fumbled as she thought of an appropriate come back. Nothing came to mind, so she settled with, “Whatever.”
She watched as he slipped around the corner. Ten seconds later she followed, stopping by the front door. She scanned the fields surrounding the house, the road. Her gaze drifted toward the small village a half-mile away. A few windows were lit, the rest dark. She doubted the kitchen would be stocked with fresh food and wondered how long the store remained open.
“It’s clear,” Spiers said, emerging from the darkened doorway. “Happy?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Go get those women. I’ll wait here.”
She jogged around the side of the house, tapped on the rear window of the car. All three occupants inside turned their heads. She smiled. Only the little girl smiled back. The women filed out of the car and followed Clarissa around to the front. Spiers abandoned his post at the door when he saw them.
Clarissa found a half-stocked pantry and empty fridge. Spiers told her that the store would likely be closed, so if she wanted to get anything else, she’d have to wait until the morning. So she grabbed some canned soup, fired up the gas stove, and cooked enough soup to get them through the night. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until the soup began to boil and filled the kitchen with the smell of tomatoes.
Spiers declined dinner, instead telling Clarissa that he’d rest now and take the overnight watch so she could get a full night’s rest. She didn’t mind. It would provide her the opportunity to probe the women and find out their relationship to Jack.
Clarissa and the women gathered around the small square table and ate in silence. Mia slurped her soup, which drew a harsh look from her mother. The little girl smiled and made sure to open wide for each subsequent spoonful.
Clarissa broke the silence. “So why are you ladies on the run?”
Erin set down her spoon. She looked shocked that the question had been asked. She wiped her mouth, cleared her throat, said, “We’re not sure, entirely. It has something to do with the bombings in London today.”
Clarissa had heard about the attack, but knew little about what had occurred.
“Were you afraid of additional attacks?” Clarissa said.
“Not me,” Erin said. “Jack. And not more attacks, more so attacks against us. See, Jack,” she paused, looked up and bit her bottom lip. “I don’t know how much I should tell you.”
“It’s OK, you can tell me. I work for the U.S. government.”
“Are you a spy?” Mia asked.
“She’s fascinated with spies,” Hannah said.
Clarissa smiled at the girl. “I sure am.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. And I’d love to tell you all about it, but first I need to hear what your mommy has to say.”
“OK,” Mia said.
“The bombs that went off were at the hotel that Jack had reservations at,” Erin said.
“Do you know why he’s in London?” Clarissa said.
Erin sat silent for a few moments. “Yes, well, I thought I did. I’m not sure, though. I’m sorry, I really can’t say without knowing definitively.”
“It’s OK. So Jack wasn’t in the building when it exploded?”
“Oh, Heaven’s no. He was with us.”
“Where?”
“At Aunt Dottie’s house.”
Clarissa tried to place the name. It didn’t register, but something else did. Mia’s eyes. She knew them the moment she saw the girl, and now she knew from where. Mia was Jack’s daughter. She was sure of it.
“Where’s the girl’s father?” Clarissa asked.
Erin shifted in her seat. “I’m sorry, I don’t see how that has anything to do with this.”
Clarissa glanced at the girl and saw that she had cast her stare down toward the table. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“You really should think before you say such things.” Erin rose. “Come with me, Mia.”
The little girl didn’t get up right away. Erin picked her up and carried her into the other room. Clarissa felt bad for a moment, but there were questions that she needed answered. She’d try again after Mia fell asleep.
“She’s kinda protective,” Hannah said.
“All mothers are,” Clarissa said.
“All?”
“Most.”
“I never knew mine.”
“I barely knew mine.”
Hannah nodded. “She’s never told me who the father is, but I think it might be Jack.”
“How well do you know him?”
Hannah smiled. She placed her right forearm on the table and leaned forward. “It’s a funny story. I met him on the plane ride over here. I had been home for break. And, I guess you’d call it a coincidence—”
“There’s no such thing as a coincidence, Hannah. The sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll be.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Anyway, we sat next to each other on the plane. He helped get me a ride to my flat afterward. Then I saw him at Ms. Carlisle’s house, out of the blue. At first I was scared he was there for me. But why? Like I’m the kind of person that someone would follow. So, anyway, when I seen him and Mia together, it was obvious. Everyone says she looks like her mother, and she does, for the most part. But those eyes, the shape of those eyes, without a doubt, father and daughter.”
Clarissa forced a smile. The news unsettled her stomach. She eased back in her chair, crossed her arms over her chest.
“So, what’s the story with Jack and Erin?” Clarissa said.
“What about them?”
“Are they a couple, an item, whatever you kids call it now?”
“As far as I can tell, they aren’t. I mean, there must have been something between them at one time. But now? I didn’t see any sparks or hints of anything going on.”
Clarissa nodded, said nothing.
“Of course, it’s not like he was around all that much. At least not while I was there. So, who knows?”
“Yeah,” Clarissa said. “Who knows. So what is Ms. Carlisle like?”
“I dunno, not much to say, I guess. She’s taken good care of me since I started school in London.”
“What do you know about her past?”
“Not much.”
“Come on, you must have heard something.”
Hannah looked over her shoulder in the direction that Erin had gone. “She used to wor
k in British Intelligence. That’s part of the reason why Mia is so interested in spies.”
Clarissa nodded. She knew who the woman was. At one time, Jack had worked with Dottie. It all made sense. During one of his assignments in England he’d met Erin. They’d had a relationship, and Mia was the result. Her cheeks burned hot. She had no cause to be angry, though. After all, this was during a time period before the two of them had become romantic. But that didn’t stop the feelings of betrayal that surfaced. How could Jack not have told her he had a daughter?
She looked up when she heard someone clear their throat. Erin stood in the doorway. She glared at Clarissa.
“Hannah,” Erin said. “Leave us.”
Hannah opened her eyes wide and forced a smile at Clarissa, then she rose and slipped past Erin.
“Let me say that I’m very sorry I spoke out of turn,” Clarissa said.
“You should be. I try so hard to protect that little girl. She believes her father died when she was a baby. She has a picture and clutches to it like it’s the only thing keeping him in her thoughts.”
“It probably is.”
“What would you know?”
“I know what it’s like to lose a father.”
“Most everyone does, at some point.”
Clarissa watched the woman’s angry expression fade. “Will you ever tell her the truth?”
“What truth?”
“About her father.”
“She has all the truth she needs.”
“Erin, I need to level with you.”
“About what?”
Clarissa took a deep breath. She placed her hands on the table to steady herself. The information she was about to divulge could change the dynamic in the house and compromise her mission. “I know Jack Noble. I’ve known him for years. After my father passed, he kind of looked after me. From afar, mostly.”
“Clarissa. Of course.” Erin gazed over Clarissa’s shoulder. “You’re the girl he used to go on about then.”
“Suppose so. Kind of an uncommon name these days.”
“So you can tell?”
“That he’s the father? Yes.”
“Jack figured it out, too. I’m still pissed off at Dottie for not telling me he was around. It’s like she wanted him to know. It was never her damn choice to make. It was supposed to be mine and I never wanted him to find out.”