Secret Agent Under Fire

by Geri Krotow

  “You should have seen the crowd that turned out to help Abi get her shop in shape. How many folks were there to help you paint and clean?”

  “A handful. They’re friends I met at the local yoga class. One of them is married to a police detective and another is the girlfriend of the detective who’s running the arson case at the police station. And she’s also Keith’s sister. Kayla. She’s the local florist.”

  “This is certainly a small town, isn’t it?” Annie smiled.

  “I told you, Mom, it’s a big change for me from DC. And it’s nothing like Main Line Philly, either. It reminds me of Gramps’s place.”

  “Gramps’s place?” Abi had never mentioned her grandparents to him.

  Abi’s face lit up. “Yes, my mom’s father. He and my grandmother had a huge plot of land out past Lancaster, to the north and east of here by about an hour and a half. When I was little, I’d spend weekends with them. There was a lake for swimming and they had this huge vegetable garden my brothers and I used to play hide-and-seek in. And the berries—Mom, do you remember the raspberries?”

  “I do. Your sweet little face would be covered in bright red juice, not to mention your clothes.”

  “And Dad used to fish there. By the way, did we mention that Dad here is going to be my consultant for fly-fishing? He’ll make an angler out of anyone.”

  Abi’s pride in her father was familiar to Keith—he felt the same way about the work his father had done in his life as a Foreign Service Officer.

  “That’s great. So you’re retired from firefighting now?”

  No one spoke and Keith could have kicked himself. “I mean, I know you were a firefighter. I’m sorry. Abi told me about the house fire when she was in high school.”

  “That was a sad day, for sure.” Dick looked at the kitchen table, then at Abi. “But I didn’t quit firefighting because of that.”

  “Dad, we’ve been through this already.”

  “Yes, we have, and it bears repeating. You had nothing to do with my leaving the department, honey. It was high time I did.” Dick looked at Keith. “Firefighting can be hard on a family, a marriage.”

  Was Abi’s father warning him?

  * * *

  Abi watched Keith charm her parents all afternoon. It was impossible not to jump to the conclusion that he wanted to impress them. Now they sat on what Abi was thinking was “their spot,” her front stoop, watching the daylight fade.

  “Thanks for dealing with my parents. I know they’re a handful.”

  Keith grunted. “You haven’t met mine yet. They’ll be quiet, not as inquisitive up front, but they’ll be testing your knowledge of geography before dinner’s served.”

  “If they’re anything like you, I’m sure they’ll be wonderful.” And she meant it. Because she’d come to the conclusion that Keith was a good man. Whom she was incredibly attracted to but so much more.

  Could it become a lifetime of more?

  “You look miffed. Why?” His voice was low, tugging her in. Or was it her imagination?

  “It’s so much easier to fall for a guy who’s not so nice. Then it’s easier to enjoy the moment and leave it when I need to. No strings.”

  He put his arm around her, lifting her chin with his other hand. “We don’t have strings, Abi. I don’t do strings, myself.”

  That was true: all she had to do was remember the piles of baked goods at the fire station from the significant others and even active-duty firewomen. “Then we make the perfect pair.” She barely got the words out before his lips were on hers and they were pressed against each other, confident of their privacy in the early evening with all the farm workers in for the night. The air smelled of early summer blooms while Keith’s breath fanned cinnamon and some other spice across her mouth. When his tongue tasted her lips, Abi didn’t have the energy to play coy—she met it with her own, claiming him every bit as he claimed her.

  “Oh, my God, Keith, you have no idea how good this feels.” She wrapped her hands around his neck and licked his throat, loving the salty tang on her tongue.

  “Actually, I do.” He grasped her hand and hauled her up next to him as he stood. “Your bedroom, Abi.”

  “Yes.” She led him through the front door and then paused. “All I have is an air mattress.”

  “The floor is fine. Hell, your kitchen counter works.” He had her up against the wall as soon as the front door closed, grinding his pelvis into hers.

  Abi moaned. She reached for his crotch, her fingers catching on his button fly. “Did I tell you how when I first saw you in jeans at the police station that morning, I wanted you then?” She tugged and got two of the buttons undone, enough room to get her hand inside his underwear and grasp his erection. The sheer hit of sensations from holding his hardness, knowing she’d done this to him, made her bite his shoulder.

  “Stroke me, babe.” Keith licked her ear, her lobe, her throat, leaving playful bites as he explored the area between her neck and shoulder.

  Sensations rocked Abi as she moved her hand up and down his shaft, her center getting wetter, aching for him. Just when she thought her knees wouldn’t hold her, Keith took her wrist and broke the connection. “Hell, Abi, I can’t take much more of that or this will be over before we make it to the bedroom.”

  “Then come on.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him across the living room, down the hall to her bedroom. The air mattress was big enough and firm enough for both of them, so she sat on it, reaching to remove her top.

  “No, let me.” Keith took her top off and stared at her breasts as they strained against the push-up bra with greedy need. He reached his hands into the cups and his fingers found her nipples. He squeezed, tweaked, and Abi cried out with sheer want.

  “Babe, this mattress isn’t going to handle us. Come here.” He yanked her up and in what seemed one move, stripped off her pants and panties. She stepped out of them, pulling his shirt over his head.

  “Why are you wearing a T-shirt, too?” Before she grabbed it, Keith was out of his jeans and underwear, the length of his erection between them, signaling the primitive need they had for one another. Abi’s hands and knees shook—she’d never shaken for a man before. Her desire for Keith wasn’t a tremble or quiver—it was a full-on quaking that rumbled through her and ignited her most feminine parts.

  Finally they were both naked and stood staring at one another, both breathing in gasps.

  “Keith, this is craz—”

  “Come here, Abi.” He pulled a wrapper from his jeans that lay next to him on the floor and donned protection before he pulled her down on top of him. She splayed across him, his erection pushing into her thigh. Skin-to-skin, nose-to-nose, their eyes met and Abi stilled, save for the pounding beat in her chest. Her heart. Keith’s heart. Did it matter whose? It was as if it were the same heart.

  It was singularly the most erotic moment of her life. Abi opened her mouth to tell Keith but he only took it as invitation and grasped her nape, pulling her mouth to his.

  His hands were on her ass, holding her as he rocked his pelvis up. Their eyes met and in one thrust he entered her. Abi cried out at the intensity. At the delicious pressure of him inside her, yes—but more at the rush of heat from her center to her scalp, back to her nipples. Keith leaned up and sucked on a puckered nipple. Hard. This was no time for sweet or tentative.

  “Ride me, babe.”

  Abi did, and they matched one another thrust for thrust, slamming together until she thought she’d die of waiting for the building pressure to let go. When her release came she felt it through her toes, through her hair. With Keith, she felt it everywhere.

  Keith groaned and then gave a loud grunt as he joined her. Abi watched him, his throat muscles tightening and then the complete bliss that swept over his expression.

  It had never been like this
before.

  Chapter 18

  “I hate you going in there, Claudia.” Colt held her in his arms as they sat on her back deck, secluded by the woods and the fact that her nearest neighbors were acres away.

  “I would feel the same if it were you. You know I’ll be okay, right? I was in Fallujah. A crazy cult isn’t going to get the best of me.”

  “In Fallujah you had weapons and protection. You’re heading into the trailer park with nothing of the sort.”

  “I’m going in there with my wits about me. In war it’s the same—all the weapons in the world won’t help if you can’t think your way out of an ambush. Trust me, Colt. I’m going to be okay, and we’re going to get these crazies. It’s high time Silver Valley was able to sleep well again.”

  “Yes, it is. Call me an old codger but I’m more worried about how you’re going to sleep in that rat-trap trailer park Wise has holed up in.”

  “Frankly, I’m not worried about sleep. I’ll be fine—I’ll be bunking with my closest female friends.” She grinned. “I’ve already reached out to a few folks who live there. I’ve introduced myself as Claudia Jones, a local gal who’s looking for a church home.”

  “And they bought it?”

  She nodded against his chest. “Hmm. You know what I’ll miss the most, Colt?”

  “I can guess.”

  “Well, there’s that. But this—you holding me close, hearing your heartbeat under my ears. It’s a damn shame we never met before, sooner.”

  “Would it have mattered? You were a career officer, Claudia. And I love being a cop. I’m not sure I would have picked up and moved with you. And there’s the fact that I was married for a good while myself.”

  She leaned up and looked into his eyes. His dear, sweet, honest eyes. “Are you sure it’s what you want again, Colt? I’ll understand if you want to keep things the same. It’s very comfortable, what we have.”

  “Say no more, woman. We’re going to make this thing between us permanent and legal as soon as you get the best of Leonard Wise and all of his cronies.”

  “And you round up the arsonists.”

  “Yes.” He raised her hand to his lips and she watched him kiss each finger, each knuckle. “I love you, Claudia.”

  “I love you, Colt.” They shared a smile that promised all she’d ever wanted. A place to call home and a man to share it with.

  * * *

  “What should I do?” Claudia looked at one of her cult “sisters,” a woman she’d been offered a room with on the New Thought compound.

  “Sister Claudia, you’ll be peeling potatoes. We’re going to need all those bushel baskets done.” Mary, the leader of the woman’s part of the cult, motioned at the two dozen or so baskets of potatoes they’d brought in from the farm store. They were preparing for the weekly Wednesday night “sermon” from Brother Wise.

  “I’ll get to it.” She found that being busy with a task was the best way to overhear what the hell was going on with the cult. It was easy to judge from the outside looking in, and think that all of these women and the men were crazy in and of themselves for following a creep like Wise. But since she’d been allowed to stay in the trailer park, she’d seen that a lot of the folks seemed almost normal, if a bit too trusting of the cult’s rules. Which they all called “good guidelines for good living.” Claudia wanted to gag every time they repeated any of the propaganda. So far all of it was straight from the pamphlets and publications Wise had printed up for the New Thought “community.” Nika Pasczenko had sneaked photos of the literature last Christmastime.

  “Are you excited, Sister Claudia?” Becky smiled at her over a bowl of hardboiled eggs she was peeling.

  “Excited? About what?” Claudia kept peeling the old potatoes, noting that the cult was living on a shoestring if these potatoes were any measure.

  “You’ll get to see Brother Wise speak tonight!”

  “Ah, yes. I’ve been so busy learning about the New Thought that I almost forgot.”

  “Never forget that Brother Wise is the whole reason for our joining.”

  “Joining?”

  “Being together in community. And there’s a good chance that he’ll pick a new mother tonight.” By “new mother,” she meant a woman or, worse, girl, to inseminate.

  “Any idea who?” Claudia fought back her disgust and rage. If the son of a bitch tried to lay a hand on an underage girl while she was here, all bets were off. She’d take him out before the FBI had a chance to come in and officially do it. She was never an advocate of using Trail Hikers status to accomplish what overt law enforcement could, be it at the state, local or national level. But when it came to protecting children, she saw no reason to remain undercover. She’d claim she’d been undercover for SVPD if she had to, and Colt would back her up.

  Colt. She missed him, missed talking to him before bed each night, missed what they did before, and sometimes again after, the talking. It’d only been three nights. Nothing compared to the months she’d spent deployed, at war. But then, she hadn’t been in love with Colt Todd yet.

  “Sister Claudia, stop lollygagging and get those potatoes peeled.” Sister Mary was being rather bitchy. And really, “lollygagging?”

  “Yes, Sister Mary.” She exchanged the rusty peeler for a paring knife and went to work.

  “That’s better, Sister Claudia. You seem to know your way with a paring knife, don’t you?”

  You should see what I can do with a bayonet, bitch.

  * * *

  Abi woke to the predawn darkness, the moonlight illuminating the sheers on her bedroom windows. Keith’s solid breathing was next to her ear as he spooned her. She took a moment to savor it all. Not just the beauty of skin-to-skin contact, or the sensuality of his breath against her nape as he slumbered. Anyone could give her physical comfort, but only Keith made her feel like the most beautiful woman on the planet. As if she mattered, her past be damned. He gave her life meaning, purpose. She’d never before had a purpose beyond her career.

  Keith was the man for her.

  She started to slowly flex her toes, her fingers. The air mattress had lived up to the promise on its box, holding them both better than she’d expected. Although that first round of sex had been so physical, so exertive, she was grateful they’d been on the floor.

  They’d made love two more times—until nearly midnight—before falling into an exhausted sleep. She knew he’d been as tired as she had been; the last months and weeks in particular were weighing on everyone working the case. She didn’t drift off, however, before she’d realized with startling clarity that she and Keith had just sealed the connection that had always existed between them. The bond that neither could deny. They hadn’t had sex. They’d made love—they were love.

  Maybe she should have told Keith about her plan for this morning. Maybe he’d be pissed off at her for not, but she’d decided to remain solo. If she found anything, she’d let Rio and Trail Hikers know immediately. With Claudia in the depths of the cult, the police and fire departments preparing for a worst-case scenario, Abi knew that this was her op. Keith was needed by his department.

  Before her parents had shown up on Sunday, she’d been up at the same early hour, working on the satellite images and maps of the area. She’d thought she’d found something last week but wasn’t sure enough to move on it, and besides, her brain needed some rest time to put together the bits and pieces coming in from Claudia and other sources in place in Silver Valley and the area around Three Mile Island.

  As Abi eased herself out of bed, she gave Keith a kiss on his forehead, hoping that if he stirred he’d think she was getting up to use the bathroom.

  Not to sneak out of her own house and escape into the darkest, deepest parts of the Appalachians.

  She wrote him a quick note, leaving it on the coffeepot she’d progr
ammed to begin brewing in another hour. Keith was an early riser like her, but even he didn’t get up before sunrise most days. How she felt about him was too much to deal with in this moment; she’d tell him once they’d wrapped up the case. Once they were safe and she was done with law-enforcement work. Because they both had to survive the next several hours or days.

  Backpack, phone, hiking poles, hiking boots, high-protein snacks, water, bedroll. Night-vision goggles, hi-res digital camera equipment, portable wi-fi hot spot in addition to her phone. She had enough to survive out there for three days if she had to, and the means to get information to SVPD headquarters. And Trail Hikers.

  The kitchen door gave a betraying creak as she opened it and Abi stood stock-still. The house remained quiet. She quickly slipped out, locking the door behind her.

  The grass on the path to the big barn was damp but didn’t soak through her sneakers as she stayed on the higher ground in the middle of the path. At the barn, she slid the door back.

  Bright light spilled out into the dark.

  “Keith!”

  “You didn’t think I’d let you do this alone, did you?” He stood in front of her, fully dressed as she was for biking, hiking and camping.

  “How did you know?”

  “Come on, Abi. I know when you’re holding back. The piles of maps and charts on your dining room table, the lists of camping gear. You’ve been acting like you did when we first met—when you had to keep your undercover status with the Trail Hikers from me. So I knew you were onto something, something you probably want to protect me from, right?”

  “‘Protect’ is a strong word. More like keep you free to do your part of the job. Put the fires out, keep the morale of your department up. And more than anything, you have to be ready to handle the load that evacuating for an event at Three Mile Island will bring. And if there’s an explosion or fire, your department needs you, Keith.”