His target was Harold Kaine, Phoebe's father.
He needed to get out of here. He quickly found a napkin to wipe up the mess and tossed the mostly full cup into the trash.
He went into his car but didn't start it. He wasn't in any kind of condition to drive at the moment. What on earth could he do? His hands gripped the steering wheel hard. Harold Kaine had definitely stepped on the wrong toes. He had been skulking around the Agency, finding the shape of it. Harold Kaine, unlike a lot of their targets, didn't get a death sentence for what he had done. He was getting a death sentence for what he might do: bring down the Agency. It was possible that he had gathered evidence against them. The Agency might want things that he had gathered and not yet turned into the bureau.
Andreas knew that the Agency knew that Harold Kaine was his father-in-law. Was that why Monsieur X had told him that he was the best choice? Did they want him to tie up loose ends? It wasn't a secret that Harold had never liked Andreas, but Andreas had never fantasized about killing Phoebe's dad. It was a nightmare. Andreas was all for working without letting emotions get involved, but this was absolutely ridiculous. He had no intention of killing his father in law. It was entirely too far. He hoped that the job wasn't what it looked like.
13
Starting the Job
Andreas
The next day, Andreas knew that the job was in fact exactly what it looked like. He was running recon on Phoebe's father's habits. It was easier to think about and to speculate about than actually do. Harold Kaine was very cautious with his movements. He was investigating the Agency off the books, which only made him more careful. If Andreas wasn't on the other side, he would be impressed by Harold Kaine's mindfulness. He wasn't an old FBI agent by luck alone.
Harold stopped at a food truck parked near one of the secret FBI buildings in DC for lunch. When he heard a motorcycle approach his parked van, Andreas took his eyes of him of Harold for just a half second.
But that was long enough for Harold to disappear into the sea of people on the street at lunchtime.
Andreas was done for the day. It was better to hang back than try to get out of the van and find Harold in the sea of people. He had enough problems with Phoebe's father as it was. Looking at his watch, Andreas said, "Damn." He told Phoebe that he'd be home for lunch, skipping the lunch shift and bringing her food.
Andreas started up the van so that he could head back to Chung's as fast as he could go. He pulled together some beef noodle soup, a recipe that he'd learned from a Taiwanese street vendor on a mission a long time ago, before he went home to her, the soup carefully put into a bag.
He put it in the car and then drove home to his wife.
"Phoebe," he called as he entered the house, the bag in hand. "I brought you some lunch."
"It's past two."
"Sorry, babe. I had to pinch-hit for one of our line cooks who didn't show up."
"You could've called."
"It was a last minute thing. I'm really sorry." Andreas would have to figure out a way to show up on time for his wife. Could Siri remind him to consistently come home on time? He'd have to look into it.
"What did you bring?"
"Beef noodle soup."
"The kind with ketchup?" Her eyes lit up.
"Yup." He started unpacking the bag and putting the contents on their dining room table. "Do you want to get some soup spoons out?" They had big soup spoons that were perfect for this dish. Andreas worked at a Chinese restaurant — or pretended to work at a Chinese restaurant, anyway — so they kept chopsticks on hand.
When the table was set, Phoebe sat down across from him and took a spoonful of the soup.
"Wow, this is so good!"
"Thanks, babe." Andreas took a small sip. It was a little cooler than he'd like, but he had literally thrown it together as fast as he possibly could. He had to keep better track of things; he had a primal need to take care of his wife. There were thin slices of beef brisket on the top, which he had cooked in the hot soup. The slices were a little raw, but Phoebe didn't say anything about it.
"I made a beautiful doll today."
"Yeah?" Andreas ate another bite.
"It's the best one I've ever made yet. I'm so happy about it."
"That's wonderful, babe."
She dropped her chopsticks.
"I know that you get really busy at the restaurant, Andreas. It's okay that you were late."
"Thanks, babe."
"I know we've talked about you taking time to test dishes, deliver on your commitments, and attend all those culinary conventions that pull you away overnight, but the most important part to me is that you come home."
"I appreciate it, honey." He squeezed her hand. "Eat your soup before it goes cold."
They ate in silence. Finally, Andreas stared at the empty bowl in front of him.
"That was really good," Phoebe said. He looked over. Her bowl was totally clean.
"Let's throw all this into the trash." Andreas quickly stacked their bowls and tossed their utensils into the sink.
"Do you need to go back to the restaurant?"
"No, I'm off for the dinner shift." Andreas turned back around to look at his wife.
Her shirt was off. He could see that her stomach looked a little softer than usual.
She didn't need to say much. He liked seeing all of her soft, smooth skin. Her curves seemed even curvier than usual.
Andreas pulled his wife into his arms, sealing his mouth to hers. He was glad that the dining room table had been cleared, because he lifted his small wife and put her on top of it. He only broke the kiss so he could remove her bra and jeans along with her underwear. Everything was on the floor. Andreas pulled off his own shirt and pants. When he was totally naked, he knelt in front of her. He pulled her thighs apart so he could give her a deep kiss between her thighs. She moaned in front of him while he ate her. She tasted better than the soup that he made, that was for sure. He touched her clitoris until he felt her muscles contract again and again as she climaxed. He got to his feet then and pulled her legs over his shoulders. She was small, it was true, but she also had the flexibility of a dancer, a fact that he loved when they were in the bedroom.
Or out of it, as the case might be.
He pushed just the tip inside of her. Her eyes flew open and met his. She looked softer than usual, a little more vulnerable than she usually was. It was almost as if she was asking him wordlessly to trust her and let her all the way in, but he could never tell her the truth. She had everything that he could give anyone, but he couldn't tell her what his real job was. If he told her that he was a mercenary, a hitman, she would leave. He knew it in his heart.
His mouth crashed downwards onto hers. She put his tongue in his mouth, flicking it while he took her small body over and over. Finally, she moaned into his mouth as she milked his cock, getting all of his seed as he released inside of her.
"You okay?" she asked when they could both think again.
"Everything is okay. More than okay," he said, pressing inside of her again. He hadn't gone down yet.
She gave him a smile, but he could tell that it was halfhearted. He didn't know what to tell her. "Hey, baby, rough day at the office. I was just told to kill your dad. By the way, I'm a hitman, just FYI. Great news, huh?" He couldn't tell her.
"Let's stay in bed for the rest of the day, okay, baby? I promise that I'll try to be on time for our next lunch date. How about tomorrow?"
She slid off of the table. "Sounds good to me."
Andreas leaned down to kiss her slowly before carrying her upstairs to spend a little time together. Their marriage was so blissful, better than anything that Andreas could have imagined as a kid. He didn't want to screw it up.
14
Breaking and Entering
Andreas
The next morning, Andreas hit some of the bags in the gym that the Agency kept behind Chip's instead of drinking some terrible coffee. Andreas alternated his strikes, changing up his comb
inations. He needed to clear his mind. His next step was to break into Harold Kaine's house, which would normally be a ludicrous idea. Now it was essential. He had a terrible feeling in his gut about it. He'd been to the Kaines' house many times as a guest; now he'd be an intruder in the house where Phoebe grew up.
He sighed. One more job after Harold Kaine, then he could hang up his guns. He could throw them into the Potomac for all the Agency cared. Just one more. He had to figure a way out of killing Harold and some way to get through two more jobs for the safety of Phoebe and their unborn child. He just had to.
He took a lightning quick shower before getting on the road. He had hacked into Mrs. Kaine's Google schedule. She kept track of everything that she and Harold did. Harold was supposed to go to a chiropractor first thing this morning. He had an old elbow injury that he treated with regular visits there. Andreas drove to the chiropractor's office. When he saw that Harold's car was definitely parked outside, he let out a long breath, steeling himself for the task ahead. Mrs. Kaine had a mani-pedi scheduled until noon, and he needed to be out of the house by then. He finally got there.
He picked the front door's lock. When this was over, he'd tell the Kaines to replace the locks. They weren't particularly complex. Andreas headed for Harold's office, where he saw Harold's locked filing cabinet. He quickly picked the lock on the cabinet.
He heard the floor creak overhead. Had he been caught? No, it was impossible. He was a professional. The house was just settling. His mind was playing tricks on him because he was in his father-in-law's house searching through the private files of someone who already hated him. He needed to get a grip.
He didn't find anything of interest in the filing cabinet, so he turned his attention to the bookshelves behind Mr. Kaine's desk. He pulled out a huge volume of Merriam-Webster's Unabridged Dictionary. He saw a glint of metal behind it.
Bingo.
He pulled out volume after volume until he saw the dial that would open the safe. He got out his listening device from his pocket while he spun the wheel incredibly slowly, waiting for the tumblers to fall. When he opened the safe, he heard another creak overhead. He quickly emptied the safe, putting everything into his satchel, before he replaced all the books just as he'd found them. There wasn't anybody at home, he knew, but he needed to get home to Phoebe anyway. He had promised her that he wouldn't be late to another lunch date.
15
Poison
Phoebe
Phoebe turned on the TV while she was cleaning out the basement before lunch. Maybe they could turn it into a playroom for the baby. It was unfinished at the moment, but the contractor that they'd had come by to give them a quote had told them a number that didn't seem too unreasonable. Right now, it was half of a man cave. It wasn't really furnished besides a TV and a couch, but it was where Andreas went to have some alone time and watch football games.
She listened with half an ear to the local news channel as she swept the floor.
Something made her turn around, the broom in her hand. She turned around to stare at the TV. The news report said that a sudden death of a local businessman had been ruled an accidental poisoning. The man was a known eager forager and he had brewed the wrong leaves into a decanter of oil he often traveled with and taken it just before going to a dinner meeting with a mysterious Mr. Drake, who hadn’t bee found.
Phoebe didn’t know much about poisons or foraging, but something didn’t sit right with her. She thought back to the card that she had found in Andreas’ pocket. A chill passed over her. She stopped cleaning the basement and brought the broom upstairs.
She should get started on something. She stirred up a bunch of eggs and put in milk and seasoning before popping it into a pan. Omelettes were just about the easiest thing to do, but Andreas never minded. Quickly, since the eggs were already cooking, she pulled a tomato out of the fridge and diced it before through it in. Tomatoes were very forgiving as ingredients. Barely cooked, they tasted fine. Well done, they tasted fine. She flipped the omelette and then sprinkled a little romano cheese on top.
She got out a plate and cut the omelette in half. She put a hand on her stomach. For some reason, she was having tons of dairy cravings. She got out the ficelle that she had bought from then French bakery only a mile away from their house. She cut a small piece for herself and then got a bigger piece for Andreas. She got out her Kerrygold butter, an Irish butter that reminded her of French butter, and she slathered it all over the bread. The baby obviously wanted high calorie food.
She put the omelette halves into the sandwiches and then cut up a cucumber to go on top for extra crunch. Andreas still wasn’t home. She put in the smallest bit of mint inside of the sandwiches.
There. Perfect.
Andreas said that he would be home for lunch, but it was already later than she’d expect. She just knew that something was wrong. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but Andreas had definitely been keeping something from her. Something definitely was wrong; there was something heavy in her gut.
She went to wash her hands. She opened up the fridge and got out a Coke. She knew that pregnant ladies weren’t supposed to drink caffeine, but she needed the mix of caffeine and sugar right now.
“Hey, Phoebe.”
Phoebe whirled around, her heart racing a mile a minute.
“Oh, you’re home.”
He sniffed. “Is that mint?”
“I made omelette sandwiches.”
“Smells pretty good.” Andreas leaned down to kiss his wife. “You look more beautiful every day, you know that?”
Phoebe stood on her tiptoes to kiss him again. “I’m glad that you’re home. I was starting to worry.”
Andreas shook his head. “Why worry about a chef? What, do you think that one day you’ll get called to the hospital to learn about my third degree burns? You think I’m going to chop off a finger or something?”
“No,” Phoebe said. “You’re right. It’s silly to worry.”
“Not silly,” he said, tightening his arms around her. “I love that you care.” He kissed her temple. “I’m starving. Let’s sit down and eat.”
Phoebe grabbed the plates so that they could eat at the table like civilized people. When they were done, she felt a lot better. Maybe all of those worries came from being a little too hungry. She was eating for two right now, after all, and maybe being extra hungry made her think crazy things. Andreas had nothing to do with that guy who was in TV. She ignored the strange feeling in the gut. It was probably just indigestion caused by the baby.
“I’m working the dinner shift tonight, babe. So don’t wait up for me, okay?”
“Sounds good. I’m just going to clean up and then take a nap.”
Andreas stood up and pulled Phoebe to her feet before lifting her by the waist and kissing her soundly.
“Go to bed early, okay? I want to wake you up…early, if you know what I mean.”
She smiled and kissed his cheek. “I know what you mean.”
He put her back on her feet.
“Love you.”
“I love you, too.” Phoebe sighed internally.
Andreas went back into his car and drove back to Chung’s. Phoebe was exhausted, but she still cleaned up the pan that she’d used for the omelettes and the knife that she’d used for the butter. She did a quick wash of the plates that they had used.
She didn’t feel as tired after washing the dishes. The strange feeling in her gut was still there. She didn’t know too much about law enforcement, but she was the daughter of an FBI agent, after all, and her dad had taught her a few things over the years. Everything that he’d ever taught her was coming back in a flood now.
She snooped in all the usual hiding places: underwear drawers, under mattresses, secret drawers.
Nothing.
She gave up after finding exactly nada after her search. Her husband had nothing to hide from her. These pregnancy hormones were really taking her for a ride.
She went to the TV room to
settle on the couch and take a little day nap. As she closed her eyes, she remembered with a jolt that she hadn’t turned off the TV downstairs.
She got to her feet to turn it off before she could take her nap. She went straight to the TV and turned it off.
Had there always been a strange rectangle under the TV? It didn’t look as if it were part of the original design. Phoebe touched the little box. She was surprised when a front panel swung forward to reveal a few buttons.
Phoebe pressed the green one. She heard whirring behind her. Her heart was thumping in her chest when she saw something that she thought was a wall moving aside to show another room beyond it. She walked into the hidden room. At the far corner, there was an enormous safe that took up all the space from the ceiling to the floor. It had obviously been custom-built for this space. Maybe she had it backwards. Maybe the room was built for the safe.
She knew Andreas’ password for everything: her birthday backwards. He told her that she was the most important thing in his life, and he’d never forget her birthday.
She spun the dial three times. She was shocked but not shocked when the safe came open. Inside, there was a black box. She pulled it out. Her eyes widened as she opened it. The box was filled with fake passports, tons of international currency, credit cards under many names, and a vial of liquid with some sort of white flower and onion-like buds popping out from the center on the label.
She started hyperventilating. Her heart was going a mile a minute, and her mind wasn’t far behind. What did all of this mean?
Suddenly, she couldn’t stand to be in the secret room for a second longer. She brought the black box up the stairs with her and put it on the counter.
Going into the pantry, she took out the box of chamomile tea to soothe her nerves. She made just one cup and waited for the tea to steep. She paced around the kitchen, her mind going in circles.
The Hitman's Pregnant Bride: A Baby Romance Page 4