Oil & Vinegar

by Mairsile Leabhair

  “You’re right, I don’t like it, but I understand it. It’s your job to question everything in order to narrow it down. The person who is responsible.”

  “Yes, exactly. That’s all I’m trying to do.” I noticed that neither of us mentioned the kiss or what it meant. Connie was focused on the case as a way to cope with my rejection. Soon, Connie. Soon. My cell phone rang, and I retrieved it from inside my jacket pocket. It was Chief Deputy Krauss.

  “Quinn.”

  “Hettie, can you talk?” she asked, not bothering to introduce herself.

  “Yes, what have you got?” I wasn’t much for pleasantries either.

  “I was finally able to cut through the bullshit the FBI was stonewalling me on,” Krauss said. “Hettie, this thing is much bigger than they eluded to.”

  “Bigger how?” I asked.

  “What?” Connie asked.

  “The senator they so casually mentioned was a U.S. senator, not a state senator, as they indicated,” Krauss explained. “And Peterson’s running for president on the independent ticket. His campaign slogan is Take Back America.”

  “Son of a bitch,” I gasped, blindsided by the magnitude of what she just revealed. A sitting senator in Washington was profiting from a local bank’s misappropriation. I wondered if that was the only bank he was using.

  “What’s going on? Connie asked again.

  “Hettie? Hettie, are you there?” Krauss called in my ear.

  “Yeah, I’m here. Listen, I’ll call you back in five.” I didn’t wait for a reply. I ended the call and stood up. I turned to Connie. “It’s Krauss. Grab your drink. We need to go back to the room.” I didn’t think to ask if I would be welcomed or not. The concerned look on her face as she picked up her drink told me that it didn’t matter.

  I hurried back to the room and pulled my card key out, inserting it into the lock. As soon as we were inside, with the door locked and bolted, I began telling Connie about the senator and the FBI.

  “What does this mean, Hettie?” she asked, scooping up Bubbles and cradling her.

  I hedged, not wanting to frighten her any more than she already was. With it being a U.S. senator, his resources would be greater, and his supporters more cutthroat than if it had been a local senator. It meant that we were in far greater danger than I thought. It meant I was in way over my head. I needed help, but it was too dangerous to ask for it.

  “I’m not sure yet. Let me call her back and get all the facts. I’ll put it on speakerphone so you can listen in.”

  I realized that was a copout of sorts. I guess I was hoping Krauss would have all the answers that would make Connie feel better. I called Krauss back and hit the speaker button.

  “Hettie, the FBI wants to talk with Amanda.”

  “Absolutely not,” I said pointedly. “Not until we know who we can trust.”

  “And how are you going to find out who you can trust if you won’t take a chance on anyone?” she asked.

  “I took a chance on you. I’ve reached my limit,” I said.

  “I’ll talk with them,” Connie interrupted, putting Bubbles down on the bed again.

  “Amanda, are you on the phone?” Krauss asked.

  “Yeah, sorry,” I said, winking at Connie. “I forgot to mention that.”

  “Uh-huh,” Krauss replied. I could almost see her rolling her eyes.

  “Chief, under no circumstances is the FBI getting their hands on her. It’s their fault she was attacked twice. There will not be a third opportunity.”

  “There is no indication the FBI was our leak,” Krauss responded. “We’re still investigating that.”

  “Well, no offense, but hurry the hell up, CD.”

  “I think it’s in everyone’s best interest if you meet with the FBI, Hettie,” Krauss implored. “Set the time and place. Bring a backup if you want, but hear them out. They have answers, too, don’t forget. You need the opportunity to ask the questions.”

  I muted the phone and looked at Connie. The answer was written on her face.

  “Please, Hettie,” she said.

  I nodded and unmuted the phone again. “All right, we’ll meet with them. I’ll call you back in a day or two with the plans.”

  “Good enough. In the meantime, watch your back.”

  “Copy that,” I replied and ended the call. I took a gulp of my beer and frowned. I hate warm beer. “For the record. I don’t think the FBI is our problem, but until I hear back from Angie, I’m not trusting anyone else with your life. It’s late, we’d better get some rest.”

  “I’m too wired to sleep. Maybe I’ll play solitaire on your eReader for a while,” Connie replied, looking around for it.

  “I think your cat is cleaning its butt on it,” I said, pointing at the annoying feline.

  “Bubbles does love to read,” she laughed, pulling the reader out from under her.

  The reader… it automatically connects to the Internet without asking and syncs to my laptop when it’s on.

  “Wait, Connie. Let me see that first. It will try to connect to the Wi-Fi at the hotel, so give me just a minute to turn the auto connect off.”

  She handed me the reader. “Is that what happened when I looked at my emails?”

  “Yes, most Wi-Fi connections at hotels, airports, even libraries, are not secure and easily hackable. By the way, if I may ask, who were you expecting emails from?”

  “Absolutely no one. I can’t access my personal email accounts anymore, but I like to check the one WITSEC set up for me just to feel like I’m doing something normal, you know?”

  “I get that, and I’m sorry you can’t even do that simple thing anymore. Well, for a while anyway.”

  “That’s okay. It was kind of getting depressing, not seeing anything in my inbox. Anyway, I’m going to the bathroom, be out in a minute.” She walked over to her suitcase and pulled out her flannel pajamas, then she walked into the bathroom and shut the door.

  I watched her every movement wishing that… wishing that I could kiss her again. Wishing that I had never kissed her in the first place. Mom always said that wishful thinking was a sign of indecision. Dad always countered with the saying, be careful what you wish for, you might get it. This time, they were both right. But I had to put that behind me and concentrate on just keeping her alive.

  I looked down at the eReader and realized exactly why we weren’t supposed to get involved with our protectees. Distraction could be costly because you missed valuable clues, clues as simple as an eReader. The reader was essentially, a mini-laptop where you could buy books, surf the web, and send emails. I hadn’t set up any of it except being able to read and buy books. And lately, with all the cases I’d been working on, I hadn’t had time to buy books. If it weren’t for the generosity of my partner, Bowers, I wouldn’t even have new books to read.

  I turned on the reader and went to the configuration set up. The Wi-Fi was trying to connect, and I turned it off quickly. Then I hit the home button and looked at the books. The latest downloaded book, which I hadn’t started reading yet, was first, then another book that I had finished two months ago. I checked the apps to make sure that the email was switched off. It was. I scrolled through the menu and glanced over the other apps, which weren’t many, and noticed a couple of apps that I didn’t recognize. One was named Turn Me On, probably my partner’s idea of a joke, and the other was named Find Me. The hairs on the back of my neck chilled instantly, warning me that an invisible baseball bat was about to punch me in the gut. The first one might had been coincidence, but the second was purposely put there. This was no joke. I suspected that Turn Me On was an app to turn on the reader and Find Me was some kind of GPS tracker. I didn’t want to uninstall the apps before Angie had a look at them, so I turned on the parental controls which restricted Internet use. That and making sure it is turned off should keep them from tracking us.

  The only one with access to my reader was Bowers. He had my account information so he could download his sister’s novels. Maybe
he’d given it to someone unintentionally? Or… no… he was my partner and always had my back. It was inconceivable.

  Connie came out of the bathroom looking adorable in her flannel pajamas. It wasn’t cold in the room, so I imagined the pajamas were to ward off a different kind of chill. One of loneliness and grief. I couldn’t imagine how hard it must be to sleep alone in an empty bed so soon after having just married. She had courage like no one I’d ever known.

  “I’m sorry, but I think the reader is busted,” I said as she folded her jeans. “But I’ve got a deck of cards, if you want to play?”

  “No, that’s all right. It’s late. We should get some sleep in case…”

  “In case we have to leave in a hurry,” I said, finishing her thought.

  “Yeah, something like that,” she replied, pulling the covers back on the bed. “Where’s Bubbles?”

  “She’s looking out the window,” I answered, pointing at the curtains draping the window.

  “Good. I changed her litter and refreshed her water so she’ll be fine until she gets bored.”

  Chuckling, I grabbed my Roanoke Rail Yard Dawgs T-shirt and shorts. “I’ll be back in a second.”

  I wasn’t kidding. I barely had the door closed before I was undressed and putting on my pajamas. I brushed my teeth, used the toilet and washed my hands. Five minutes later, I was jumping into bed. Connie went right to sleep, but I couldn’t. My mind was racing a mile a minute with questions and I didn’t want to face the answers.

  Chapter Twenty

  Amanda Sanders (Connie Yarbrough-Morrison)

  Bracing yourself against a speeding locomotive never works, and yet you do it anyway because you can’t move, you can’t run away. You want to. You want to run and hide, but you also want her to find you. Falling in love feels like the wind was knocked out of you because love has taken your breath away. Like your chest is about to burst because your heart is so full. You have a split second to either jump on board and ride the train into the sunset with her or jump out of the way and watch it speed on to someone else. With Meredith, I jumped on board instantly. With Hettie… I could hear a train whistle in the distance, getting louder with each passing minute. But I stood in place, not sure whether to run toward the train or away from it.

  Meredith was very self-aware and confident, like Hettie, but she wasn’t as blatant. Being married softened my perception of what life would be like living with someone other than my parents. Meredith wasn’t as butch as Hettie, but she was just as strong and protective. I guessed I attracted those types because of my shyness. But my shyness was just a protective mechanism brought on in grade school. With people I trusted, like Hettie, I could be myself.

  I understood the need in people like Hettie to be protective and in charge. I liked that in a woman. I really preferred that someone else be the strong one, as long as they didn’t think they could dominate me. Just because I was shy with new people didn’t mean I was stupid. I had a mind of my own and, as both Meredith and Hettie had learned the hard way, heaven help you if you think otherwise.

  I stood frozen beside Hettie’s bed, unable to move as I watched her sleep. Even in repose, she was powerful and compelling. But watching her sleeping, with Bubbles lying across her forehead, she was also charming and captivating. And allergic to cats. I lifted Bubbles off just as Hettie sneezed repeatedly.

  The cat rubbed against my chin, purring. Okay, Bubbles, I get the message. You and Meredith are in cahoots together, aren’t you? Bubbles meowed and jumped out of my arms. She settled herself at the foot of my bed and began taking a bath.

  “What time is it?” Hettie asked sleepily.

  “Half past seven,” I replied.

  “Did you sleep well?” she asked as she sat up and scrubbed her face with her hands and then raked her fingers through her short hair.

  I was captivated by her simple routine, knowing that it was probably the only preparation she’d do before setting out for the day. I admired that kind of self-assurance. I would be at least thirty minutes in the bathroom putting on makeup and brushing my hair and styling it, all so I could have that natural look.

  “Not too bad, I guess. There’s a lump in the bed that gave me grief, though.”

  She stood up, lifted her good arm in the air and stretched. A deep, tip-toed-type stretch that made her muscles jump like rubber bands. Her T-shirt raised up, showing a tantalizing bit of tummy and an adorable belly button. What are you doing to me? I rubbed my sore leg to distract myself, but it didn’t work.

  “Does your leg hurt?” she asked, surprising me.

  “No. Actually, it’s practically healed, thanks to your mother. What about you, how’s your shoulder? I noticed you didn’t raise it when you were stretching.”

  “Yeah, it’s still really sore. I could use some aspirin or something.”

  “I’ll get you some,” I replied, jumping up.

  “No, I didn’t mean—”

  “I don’t mind. Besides, they’re in my suitcase.”

  “Okay, you win,” she said, raising her hands in surrender.

  “Might as well get used to it,” I said, chortling.

  I picked up my suitcase and placed it on the bed. Then I realized what I had just said. I busied myself rummaging through the case looking for the aspirin and held my breath, hoping she would just let that one go. I picked up the bottle of aspirin and tossed it to her.

  “Thanks.” She shook out two tablets and tossed them into her mouth, dry swallowing them as she put the lid back on.

  Pulling out the ointment and some gauze, I turned back to her and said, “I need to change your bandages this morning.”

  “Sure, just let me grab a shower first.”

  “Do you need help taking the one on your back off?” I asked.

  “Nah, I’ve got it. Thanks.”

  She pulled some clothes out of her duffel bag and walked into the bathroom. A minute later, I heard the shower running. I pulled out my slacks and a blouse from my suitcase and laid them on the bed. Then I pulled off my PJs and folded them up, putting them back in my case. Slipping my toes into one leg of my pants, I stumbled and fell on my ass with a thud.

  “Damn it.”

  I started to get up when I heard a commotion and Hettie came charging out of the bathroom, stark naked and dripping wet.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  I covered my eyes so I wouldn’t gawk and noticed that I was naked also. “Oh, God. Don’t look!” I cried, grabbing the blanket from the bed. I glanced at her as I covered myself, and she was looking at me. All of me. I looked away again. Unlike her, I was completely embarrassed.

  “That’s a shame,” she said, taking my hand and helping me up while my other hand kept a firm grip on the blanket.

  “What’s a shame?” I asked, looking down at the floor. I could feel the heat in my cheeks and hoped that Hettie couldn’t tell how embarrassed I was.

  “It’s a shame that you would be uncomfortable with something as beautiful as your body.”

  I thought Hettie had let herself go since I saw her in college, but I realized now, that it must have been the baggy clothes she wore. This woman was long-bone and tight muscled. Blushing deeper, I glanced at her lean stomach, muscular thighs and the dark hair between her legs. Oh, God. “It’s not my body I’m uncomfortable with,” I lied. I’m uncomfortable with how badly I want you to rip away this blanket and make love to me right now!

  “Thank you. I appreciate that my naked body makes you uncomfortable. And that you didn’t slap me. I really was not trying to pull anything. In the bathroom, it sounded like someone had broken down the door and I reacted on instinct. Uh, I think I’d better get back to my shower…” she said, turning around, “and hope the water is cold by now.”

  I watched her firm ass as she walked back into the bathroom. There weren’t enough adjectives in the English language, or any language for that matter, to describe how incredibly sexy she was without even trying to be. I hoped she did us
e up all the hot water because I was going to need a cold shower myself.

  *

  As we ate breakfast in the hotel restaurant, I had trouble looking Hettie in the eyes. The cold shower had helped relieve some of the urgency and cleared my head but not my heart. It didn’t help that I’d held my breath the entire time I’d redressed her wounds, my fingers touching her smooth skin, feeling her muscles flex, absorbing the heat that seemed to be pouring off of her. Thankfully, she had bandaged the front of her shoulder herself. I don’t think I could have stopped myself if I had to be that close to her breasts and not touch them. I kept telling myself that it was just biological. The body wants what the body wants. It’s the mind that plays the games that confuses the heart into thinking that it’s love.

  “While you were in the shower, the front desk called,” Hettie stated between bites of bacon.

  “Everything all right?” I asked.

  “I had asked about getting another room and one became available this morning, so I’ll be just across the hall from you.”

  “You’re…” I swallowed back the lump in my throat. “You’re…” I repeated, unable to articulate the words that said don’t leave me.

  “You wanted your own room, remember? It will be safer this way.”

  “Safer?” I don’t know why, but it felt like she was abandoning me. I’m being foolish. I wasn’t thinking with my head.

  “Safer without me underfoot. Safer for my allergies. And yes, safer for my hormones.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at that last one. Hettie had always been honest with me and now I understood. She was having the same problems I was, and I had to agree, getting a second room would help with that. “Okay,” I replied meekly. “Bubbles will miss you, though.”

  She laughed and started to say something when her phone rang. “Quinn… yeah, Angie, what have you got for me? … Oh, okay, you know where we’re at. Yeah, see you in a bit.”

  “That was Angie?” I asked as she ended the call.

  “Yeah, she’ll be here in about twenty minutes.”