An Aria for Nick (Christian Romantic Suspense) (Song of Suspense)

by Bridgeman, Hallee

  Carol looked confused for a moment, but the minute she made eye contact with Nick, her eyes widened in recognition. "You remember Nick, don't you, Carol?"

  "Of course I …" she began, clearly shocked and confused. Then she smiled again. "I'm really looking forward to this one." She stepped back into the house and gave them room to enter. "Come in, please," she said.

  She led them through the spacious house into her living room and waved her hand in the general direction of the couch and chairs. "Have a seat. You two want something to drink?"

  Aria and Nick sat on the couch, close but not touching. "No. Sit down, Carol. We need to talk to you," Nick said.

  ¯¯¯¯

  NICK watched Carol's reactions throughout Aria's recitation. At first, her eyes reflected amusement and disbelief, but the more Aria told, and the more Carol looked to Nick for reassurance, the more her eyes reflected sympathy and a bit of fear. Nick couldn't help wondering if the fear was for herself because the two of them were there, or for Aria.

  Aria left nothing out for Carol. She explained everything in full detail, and the telling took forty-five minutes. When she was done, the three sat silent, Aria and Nick waiting to see what Carol would say, and Carol taking it all in. Finally, she spoke. "What are you going to do now?" She directed the question to Nick.

  He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, lacing his fingers. "Now we need a place to tuck Aria away for a few days where she'll be safe. Her family is pretty much out of the question, and she has no friends outside of her work or church that Harrington doesn't know about." He let that hang in the air for a while. "Then, I'll go to D. C., take the extensive collection of evidence I now have to my superiors, and see where they take it from there."

  Carol sat back, carefully composed, and looked at them for a long time. "Can they trace you to me?" she asked.

  Nick answered, "Not after Aria fixes the phone company's records."

  "She won't need to fix the records. I called her from my office, which is the District Attorney's office. Thousands of phone calls are made from there a week." She finally gave in to nervous energy and got up to pace the room, sticking her hands in her pockets. She made one pass, then another, finally stopping near them. "Aria is welcome to stay here as long as she needs to," she agreed.

  Nick watched her and could see that a part of her was holding back. "You have to be certain. I know you have children."

  Carol ran her hands through her hair in a habit that Nick remembered from high school. "I have a daughter who's almost six. Her name is Lisa. If you think Aria will be safe here, then I trust that my daughter will be safe here, too." She tilted her head to one side and looked at him closely. "I don't think you would leave her if you didn't think she would be safe."

  Nick gave her a faint nod and looked at Aria. She looked like she was going to fall asleep sitting there. "I'll go get your bags, Aria," he said, and left the two women in the house while he went outside. He glanced at his watch while he opened the car door and saw that it was only three. He felt safe staying for a few hours. He grabbed her bag and laptop.

  He walked back up the drive and reentered the house. Aria and Carol weren't in the living room so he stopped and listened, hearing a sound coming from upstairs. He headed in that direction, and at the top of the stairs, heard the sound of feminine laughter to his right. They were in a room just down the hall, sitting on the bed, and he went in, putting everything down near Carol's feet. She jumped when she saw him and put a hand to her heart as he straightened up.

  Aria laughed. Nick just stared at them, wondering what the joke was. "He does that to me all the time, Carol. You eventually get used to it."

  "What?" Nick asked.

  Aria stood and took his face in her hands, giving him a hard kiss. "You sneak," she said, then grabbed her backpack. "I'm going to take a shower."

  "I'll show you where the bathroom is. I think I have some shorts that might even fit you. Might be a little long on you," Carol said, and led the way out of the room.

  Nick went back down the stairs and stood at a large window in the living room, looking out into the backyard where a swing set and a sandbox sat under an oak tree so large that it had to be at least a hundred years old. The early evening light made the yard almost glow, giving it a welcoming look. He couldn't believe that they'd been on the beach in Florida just that morning. He thought back to his childhood and realized that he'd never had a swing set. Or a sandbox for that matter, unless you counted the dirt yard in the last trailer park. More things that should be added to his list under the category of normal.

  He heard Carol come into the room, but didn't turn around. He wasn't really in the mood for polite conversation, and hoped that she would take the hint. Apparently, she didn't because she spoke after a few minutes of silence.

  "Do you still think she's too good for you?" she asked in a low voice.

  Nick turned and looked at her. She'd always been extremely astute, and if she were a lawyer as she had earlier hinted, she was probably a good one. "I'm not sure what you're talking about," he replied evasively. He wasn't in the mood to delve into the intricacies of his feelings for Aria with Carol Mabry.

  "Sure you do. She did everything in her power in high school to place herself in your path and you never gave her the time of day. Not because you didn't like her, but because you thought she was too good for you." Carol sat in the chair she had vacated earlier.

  "Why are you worried about something that happened twelve years ago?" Nick asked. He stuck his hands in his pockets and remained standing.

  She didn't answer his question, but asked her own. "Do you know what it did to her when she found out that you were supposed to be dead?" Nick said nothing, just continued to stare. He was sure there was going to be a point made soon. "She cried so hard that she made herself sick, literally. She went home to Georgia and two days later, her mom called Henry to come stay the weekend, worried something was wrong with her. She laid in her bed and wouldn't move, unless it was to go to the bathroom and throw up. She wouldn't talk to anyone, wouldn't eat, and every couple of hours she would cry so hard it hurt your heart to hear."

  "Is there a point to this tale, Carol?" Sorrow washed through him at the picture she painted.

  "My point, Nick, is that you hurt her terribly. You didn't do it intentionally, and there probably wasn't a whole lot you could do to prevent it, but it happened anyway. I couldn't understand it, because you'd never given her the time of day, and I didn't see how her feelings for you could be so strong." She looked wistful for a moment, then continued. "I understand now, and I wonder how much worse it will be this time."

  "I'm not planning to die again, Carol."

  "No, but you're not coming back, either, are you?" She stood and walked up to him, putting a hand on his cheek. He fought the instinct to back away, and waited. "Nope. That is not in your plans."

  He felt his cheeks grow hot beneath her fingertips. She said, "If you had been planning on coming back for her, you would have left her in some hotel room in some obscure city and told her to wait for you. Instead, you're leaving her somewhere where you won't need to come back."

  He wanted to deny it, but couldn't. He wished he could, but Carol's gaze was too strong and saw too much. "She'll survive."

  "Yes, but she'll hate you when it's over, and since I have to pick up the pieces again, I'll probably hate you, too." She kissed his cheek and started to step away, but he caught her hand.

  "You started the fight with her intentionally." Aria had told him the story on the way there, to help him understand that Carol may not let her stay there.

  "Yes. I figured anger was better than grief. I suggested that she never had any real feelings for you and was just seeking attention. It broke my heart to do it, but it worked." She shrugged, and when she walked away, he didn't stop her this time. "She went back to school that weekend, and started living again, learned how to live without playing piano twelve hours a day, figured out what she could
do with her life. It destroyed our friendship, but I wasn't worried about her any longer," she said over her shoulder.

  She left Nick alone in the room and he went back to stare at the swing set again. His heart ached, and he desperately wanted something that was out of his reach. The word normal whispered around his head, until the sound of Carol coming back in the room interrupted his thoughts.

  "I'm having dinner out with some friends, then I need to go pick up Lisa. Her grandmother picked her up while I was on the phone with Aria," she said. "I'll be gone a couple of hours."

  "I'll keep her safe until you get back," he promised.

  "When can I tell her you're gone for good this time, Nick? A week? A month? Or will a different detail arrive at my door with a folded flag and some medals?"

  He turned his head to catch her eyes, her very frank eyes. "You'll know."

  He turned his face back to the world outside the glass doors, keeping his back to the room and listening to her leave, understanding and appreciating the opportunity she had given him to say good bye to Aria in private.

  ¯¯¯¯

  ARIA walked down the stairs dressed in a comfortable pair of yoga pants and a sweatshirt so big it hit her knees. She felt better than she had in days, glad she was safe for a little while, and certain that Nick would straighten everything out. She frowned when she thought of him leaving her to go to Washington. She had no idea what awaited him there and worried a little about what they would do to him.

  In her imagination his organization was a group of faceless killers with sniper rifles who were known as "they," as if anyone would instantly know to whom "they," referred. When she realized that was how she had just mentally referred to NISA too, she laughed a little at herself.

  When she walked into the main room, she found Nick standing at the glass doors, looking out into the backyard. He turned to look at her and her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were more intense than usual, and his stare made the pulse pound furiously in her neck. She cleared her throat. "When are you leaving?"

  He didn't speak, but before she saw him move, his lips were on hers and her back was against the wall. She didn't hesitate before she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. He raised his head and looked into her eyes, and she felt a wave of love so strong that it startled her. As his head lowered a second time, she wondered when she had fallen in love with him again. Then, as his lips moved from her mouth to her neck, she wondered if she had ever stopped loving him.

  ¯¯¯¯

  Chapter 27

  THE Special Agent code named Hecate strolled into the Florida hotel just as a group of ten young men and women in various stages of sobriety and attire stumbled out into the street. She stepped aside and let them pass then marched to the hotel registration desk.

  She held out a set of credentials identifying her as one Special Agent Katherine Royce of the Florida Department of Law Enforcement and announced, "I'd like to speak with the manager on duty, please."

  The hotel manager and part owner, Adriano Gonzolez, came to the front and shook hands with her saying, "Welcome, welcome! Spring break, huh? How can I help you, ma'am?"

  Kate placed her sketches and a few indistinct surveillance photos snipped from closed circuit traffic cameras onto the desk and stated, "This couple checked into your hotel recently. I need to know the names they used for the reservation and I need to see the room they stayed in as soon as possible."

  Adriano waved his hands, all smiles and nods. "Of course. Of course. No problem. We always cooperate with FDLE in any way we can. Of course I only need to inspect your search warrant in order to safeguard the confidentiality of all of our guests."

  Kate kept her expression blank. It wasn't difficult. Without moving, she said, "You know what Mr. Gonzolez? It appears I have misplaced that search warrant today. But it isn't a problem. What I will do is make a quick call and obtain a search warrant for your scrutiny. And of course since I am obtaining one, I may as well bring in every member of the Florida Highway Patrol as well as FLDE and bring in the Panama City Police Force as well as the County Sheriff and all of his deputies to this precise location to conduct our search."

  She paused just long enough to let the implications of that sink in. "Now, tell me something, Mr. Gonzolez, before I make that call, do you suppose while we are conducting our search and performing our due diligence that we might find any kind of underage drinking or use of illegal or controlled substances taking place inside the walls of this establishment? Because, you know, that might not go so well for you.

  "In fact, we will probably have to cordon off each and every single area where we observe any malfeasance — or possible wrong doing — as a crime scene and perform an extensive and lengthy investigation."

  She reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. She met his eyes and emphasized, "Extensive. And lengthy."

  Adriano Gonzolez smiled like the dawn breaking over a new day. "You know something? I don't need to see your warrant today. Like I told you, we cooperate with the FDLE in every possible way. Will you give me just a moment to collect the room key for you?"

  "Of course I don't mind waiting," Kate answered. "I just need you to hand me that room key before I finish dialing this phone number for the clerk of courts." She glanced down at the cell phone in her hand and slowly began to dial. Adriano Gonzolez moved faster than he had in the previous three years.

  ¯¯¯¯

  NICK felt disoriented and fought off the panic that came with that feeling while he tried to open his eyes. He remembered the fight in the bar, and the knife that was pulled on him. He remembered the pain as the knife sliced his chest, and the fury as he took his own knife from the hands of the attacker and returned the favor. Then the frantic trip to the pickup point, worrying the entire time that he would pass out before he got there and be left behind in this forsaken country. Did he make it to the rendezvous point, or was he in an Iranian prison, awaiting execution for the murder of one of their military leaders?

  His whole body ached, but he heard a sound to his left and forced his head to turn in that direction, finally able to pry his eyelids up. Jen Thorne sat next to his hospital bed in a wheel chair, lightly dozing. The scars on her face were barely recognizable now after many cosmetic surgeries, but the right sleeve of her robe hung loose and empty. Plastic surgery couldn't fix that.

  "Jen," he said. His voice came out very hoarsely, and he desperately wanted a drink of water.

  She jerked awake at the sound of her name, then gave a hesitant smile. "Hey big guy. How you feeling?" She wheeled her chair closer, her hand stroking the wheels one at a time like paddling a canoe, her knees hitting the side of the bed.

  "Seriously? I feel like worm food. Is there any water here?"

  She poured him a cup of water from the pitcher by the bed and held the straw to his lips. His mind went back to the last time someone had done that for him. "Where am I?"

  "Bethesda. You were transported straight here once they found out you were going to live. Apparently, they lost you a few times en-route."

  "I made it to the pickup point, then?"

  "Yeah, you ended up rolling halfway down a rocky hill, and landing in a puddle of your own blood, but you made it."

  "How are you feeling, Jen?" he asked.

  "Better. I still think it's there sometimes, but four weeks is a long time. I'm getting better." She reached through the bars on the bed and grabbed his hand. "I've wanted to see you since the explosion, but Charlie told me he sent you right back out. They told me what you did, with the doctoring in the field, then the blood you gave me at the hospital."

  Nick was uncomfortable with the conversation, so he just squeezed Jen's hand and closed his eyes, letting his body drift back to unconsciousness.

  "Thanks for saving my life, Nick. I … Thank you, Nick."

  NICK cradled Aria to his chest then rolled over, untangling himself from her. They had first sat down on the couch right after the sun went down. Eventua
lly they laid down on the couch together and she had snuggled her head into the crook of his arm and his chest. Within seconds, she had fallen asleep. He had watched her sleep, intending to remain awake until it came time for him to go, but he felt so relaxed that he had apparently fallen asleep as well. The dream had roused him.

  He checked the time. Aria had been asleep for nearly an hour now, and he was sure that his movements wouldn't wake her. Hopefully, without him there to disturb her, she would sleep through the rest of the night and into tomorrow. She needed to catch up.

  Briefly, he considered carrying her up to her room and putting her to bed, but he didn't want to disturb her. Instead, he shifted her body so that he could cover her with the crocheted afghan draped over the back of couch.

  He started to leave the living room, stopping at the entryway and looking back. For the first time in his life he didn't want to leave, and it was ripping his insides out to do it. He would never see her again, he knew, and he wanted to wake her up and hold her. He wanted to express all the love he had held inside for years, the love that now threatened to consume him.

  Instead, he walked to the front door, opened it, and walked out of the house into the twilight. He didn't look back at the house as he got into the car and drove away.

  ¯¯¯¯

  KATE stood on the balcony squinting against the glare of the Florida sunshine and doing her level best to ignore the revelry in the streets below. She had searched the hotel room and, as expected, had come up with nothing useful. There was a fist sized hole in the wall that revealed nothing. There were traces of makeup on some of the linens she found before the maids sent them to the laundry. Nothing else.