Hawkins tickled her until she begged him to stop. While she was on the floor and him still on the couch, Miss Bean cleared her throat and smiled at them both. Hawkins asked her if he could help with something.
“Yes, I do believe you can. I need underlings, sir.” He cocked a brow at her. “That’s what we call those in the kitchen that work with us. They’re not the main cook or in charge, but they are still a very important part of the household.”
“What would these underlings do for you? I’m only asking because I have a few people that could use a nice place to work.” Miss Bean told him what they’d do for her. “That wouldn’t work for these people. They’re in wheelchairs permanently. But if you think we need more people working here, then I say you should do it. I would imagine that a house this large is a bit on anyone, young or older.” Miss Bean said it was the stairs. She could get up and down them, but it took her a while. And when making the beds up there and doing a quick clean up of the bathroom, the stairs were hard on her. “Then hire people, however many you think, to do the work upstairs. I’ll have to run background checks on them, just so you know.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, sir.” She started away, but turned back to smile at them both. “This house, it’s beautiful, but it could use a few touches here and there. You’ve not a single picture hanging of your lovely family, nor is there much in the way of color in a great many rooms. If you’d like, missus, I can help you with that.”
“I’d love that, Miss Bean.” She told her to call her Mildred. “All right, Mildred. When we get the staff squared away, we’ll work on making this house beautiful. And could you hire someone that could work in the gardens in the back of the house? They’re in dreadful shape.”
“Oh yes, the gardens here are in sorry shape. I have someone just in mind for that. My husband, Donald. He so loves to work in the garden around the house. This will be a project for him so that he can stay out from under my feet.”
She was still mumbling about men and getting in the way as she walked away. Hawkins looked at Jamie and they both burst out laughing.
“I’ve no idea what to do with a staff.” He said that he didn’t either, but she sure looked like she did. “We’ll see when they all threaten to quit because I’m a hard ass.”
“Nah, you got this. Now, why don’t we go up to bed and work on a sister or brother for our baby?” She laughed when he picked her up in his arms. “You are going to enjoy this so much.”
She was sure that she would. And so would he if she had anything to say about it. Jamie was as happy as she’d ever been, thanks to this entire family. She wondered how she had managed before they came into her life. Jamie didn’t know, but she had them now, and was going to cherish every moment with them that she could. She’d think about the rest tomorrow.
Chapter 11
Frank ate his meal with his head down and his mouth shut. He had been coming into this little dive for the past three days, and was amazed that they stayed in business at all. The food, he thought, wasn’t fit to eat, and the coffee was from a pot. Who drank from a machine that had to be as old as the waitress that had served him?
“You want a piece of pie, honey?” He shook his head and finished up his meal by mopping the plate clean with his roll. That was one thing that was good, the bread. He could have made a meal from that alone. “Are you sure? We have some fresh baked cherry and blueberry.”
“No, thanks.” He’d also been a good deal politer when he spoke to people. He was positive that they were out looking for a well-dressed man that spoke with a weird accent. “Just the check.”
He waited on the check while he thought about Iris. Frank was regretting killing her now. She might have been able to put him up for a few days. Now he couldn’t go near her place, or his, without a thousand cops surrounding him. There was a cruiser parked in the front of both houses like they lived there. It was despicable the way that the city was wasting money on him.
Okay, Frank thought, he had killed Iris recently. And he had stolen paperwork from the president too. Also, he’d bugged the Oval Office, something that he was regretting more and more every day when he saw his picture on the news at night. The paper had been plastering it all over the place too. This just wasn’t in any way helping him.
After she brought his bill, he shuffled his way to the cash register and thought about all the shit that he’d lost with this deal. He’d been paying off people to help with his venture. Then there was what he’d put out to make himself look good. Also, he’d been giving Iris money for helping him out. Fat lot of good that had done him—she’d lost her job, and his finger on the pulse of things at the White House. There were other expenses as well. The money for the camera, as well as the program to set it up. Another thing that hadn’t done him a lick of good.
He paid his check with cash and moved down the street to the hotel that he’d been staying in. As soon as he was in his room and the door was shut and locked behind him, he pulled off the scratchy wig that he’d bought cheap and the scarf that had covered most of his face. It was nine thousand degrees outside, he’d bet, and he was forced to dress like it was ten below so that no one would shout out that he was having dinner beside them. People were just too happy to point out other people’s faults, when he was sure they had just as many.
Frank had tried twice now to get past the guards at the front gate of the White House. He’d had such an easy time of it before, and now they were treating him like he was a criminal. Didn’t these people know that war time was the best time? It was the biggest money maker there was.
“Fuckers.” He hadn’t been one to use that sort of word before all this. But he did so love the way that it just seemed to roll off his tongue. He said it several more times as he took off most of his clothing and turned the air conditioner up to full blast. Christ, would it ever cool off?
He’d been plotting and planning for several days now. The way he had it figured was that in about a week, maybe less, they’d forget all about him and the cars in front of his house would be gone. Then he’d go inside and get his stash, make a quick stop at the White House and kill the president, and be on his merry way. It was a good plan, but it lacked any way for him to execute it in a way that didn’t get him killed or in prison.
Frank had spent quite a few years behind bars when he’d been younger. Changing his name hadn’t been that big of a deal when he’d gotten out, not really. He’d just taken his father’s first name and his mother’s maiden name. It had been that simple. What had taken the longest was getting himself a portfolio, so to speak, that made Frank Jackson a real person. He’d created an entire persona, by just putting his name in a few of those sites for people to chat about stupid crap and order a few things from some obscure company, to establish himself as Frank Jackson.
He didn’t even think about himself any other way but as Frank Jackson. As far as he was concerned, Robert Goodall was as dead as Iris was. Laughing as he leaned over the air conditioning vents to cool off, Frank thought that the men looking for him—because there was no doubt that someone would be chasing their tails about now—would be running into dead ends more times than a blind man would hit a building.
Tomorrow he was going to go by the post office. He’d ordered some money from his overseas account to be sent to him via a cashier’s check. He figured that was the safest way for him to get it. Calling in a favor to have another new identity made so that he could go and collect it had been expensive, but well worth the trouble. He’d be able to get himself a gun, a passport, and something to drive away from the White House when he killed Jarvis.
There was so much money riding on the fact that he wanted his man in the office of the president. He had guns lined up to sell to either side that had money. And just recently he’d been able to buy some meals ready to eat—the slang for them was MREs. He had gotten them dirt cheap, and was going to provide the other side with them. Sure, they were expired, but he didn’t give a shit if they got sick. T
his was a money maker for him. And truthfully, that was all it was about. Money.
There was still the trouble of getting to the fucker in the Oval Office, however. Jarvis had been hard to read, and harder still to get him to do what he wanted. Like dating Iris. Then to bed her. Once she was on the upper floors there would have been plenty Frank could have done from there as well. Killing the president had only been a thought—now it was necessary to make things fall into place.
“Stupid cocksucker is still fucking with things that don’t concern him. Well, I suppose that they do, but I don’t care what he wants or needs.” Frank thought about how him killing old Jarvis would concern him, but not for long. “He’ll be dead a while before anyone knows who did it.”
That was the plan, anyway. He was going to blame it on anyone that he could. Not just blame, he said to himself, not with words, but he was going to put enough evidence around the place that it would look as if one of his aides had done it.
Trying the password again on the computer that he’d snatched up the other day, he was disappointed to find that he had only two more tries before it locked up. He thought that he had it right. The one that Iris had used to get to Jarvis’s calendar was proving to be a no go too. Maybe he’d just written it down wrong.
Frank knew that he’d have not changed it. The moron hadn’t changed the password on the safe after he’d taken over, so why the hell would they think he’d have any changes made to his calendar? That would have been the first thing Frank would have done, so thieves like him weren’t able to get to stuff.
He looked at the password that had once gotten him into the calendar. Taking his time while putting it in, he made sure that the caps lock wasn’t on, nor were there any other capital letters that might screw him up. And when it told him that the password was wrong again, he wanted to toss the sucker out the window and be done with it. When the computer dinged at him, he sat back down to work, since he was sure that it had worked this time.
“Hello, Robert. How’s it hanging on you? Low and to the right? Or high and to the left? Either way, you’re so fucked right now.” He asked who this was in the little message box that was blinking. “Your worst nightmare coming true.”
He wanted to ignore the blinking light, but he knew that whoever it was they might be wanting to help him with his projects. Of course, they had said he was fucked, but he wasn’t worried about that. No one knew him or where he was. It was worth a shot to be able to get to his money and things. Then he read back what the first message was. He’d been called Robert. That was bad.
“Are you going to help me with my plans? If not then just go away. I’m trying to think for a minute.” He didn’t feel that was giving away too much, so he read it twice more before hitting enter. The name bothered him, but it could have been that they had the wrong person, and he’d just happen to have caught it.
“You mean the password to the presidential calendar? You’re not going to get that. I’ve changed it and put it on a program that will tell me when someone is fucking with my work. That would be you in case you didn’t know already.” He asked the person if they were lying. “I don’t lie, and just wait a minute or two and I’ll have the address where you are.”
He didn’t believe that for a moment. No one could put programs on computers that would trace someone. When the person started typing again, and the little cursor was moving back and forth in the box, he went to get him a cold bottle of water while he waited. He opened the curtain a little and saw that there were a few more cars in the lot than there had been a few days ago. Frank was glad; it would make it so he could blend in more.
Sitting back at the computer, he realized that his screen had darkened. He had no idea what Iris had set this thing on to go dark like that all the time, but he was sick of waking it up all the time. He looked at the little box, and crushed his bottle of water in his hand and all over his boxers when he read what was there.
“Well, Robert Goodall, you’re at the Winding Oak Motel out off the interstate. I don’t know which room you’re in yet, but I will before the cops get there.” He grabbed up his computer and his pants and went out the door. He had no idea how long it would take for them to get to him, but he was so out of there.
Frank was going behind the dumpster when he heard the first siren. There were at least a dozen cop cars, the SWAT team, as well as the bomb squad. He didn’t have a bomb, but he was sure that he would have blown it up before now if he had. Christ almighty, they were all over the place. He pulled on his pants as he watched the goings on around the hotel.
~*~
“I don’t understand.” Lauren asked Jamie what she didn’t get. “Why did you tell him where he was and that you had the cops coming? I mean, you knew that he’d run, didn’t you?”
“Yes, that’s what I was hoping for. Because now he doesn’t have anything. When they looked over the room, they found his planner as well as his keys. We don’t know what they might go to, but it’s something. They’re making copies as we speak. Also, the planner, from what I’ve heard, is where he’s written down his plans for Jarvis. He’s got a one-track mind, the moron.” Jamie leaned back in the chair that she’d been sitting in. “Thanks for helping us out with this. We might not have ever found him had you not helped. This mind thing you and Hawkins can do, it’s pretty useful on a lot of things.”
“I had no idea that I could do that until one afternoon when I was waiting on people at the bar where I worked, and this guy came in that couldn’t talk. All I did was touch him and bam, I got a shit ton of more things than I ever wanted.” She asked her about the computer thing. “That’s very new. I just tried it and it worked. Now that I’ve had a little more practice at it, I’m getting faster at tracing things and people.”
Lauren had been around Jon when he’d been practicing with some of the things that he’d gotten. But it scared her a little to think about the power that Jamie had. She was a human flame, and someone to be terrified of.
“Don’t be afraid of me. I don’t think I could stand it if you and the rest of them were afraid.” Lauren told her that she wasn’t afraid, but thought that others would be. “Yes, but to them, I’m just an ordinary person that married a very rich man.”
“I heard that.” Lauren laughed a little. “If you don’t mind me asking, when you were in the house searching for the babies, why didn’t you take the bastard out with one of your powers? I mean, you have them—why not use them?”
“I didn’t know where the babies were, and I thought that he would tell me before I murdered him. And I would have killed the fucker too. Not really, but that’s what I was hoping for. To find them and make sure that they got back with their parents safely. I’d been tossed to the curb—no one else should have to feel like I did.” Lauren nodded and watched the body cams of the cops looking for Jackson. “You do know that I can tell them where he is, right?”
“Yes, and I’m pretty sure that each of them knows that he’s behind the dumpster. They’re under orders not to find him. If they happen to stumble on him, that’s fine, we’ll go with another plan. But in my experience, people make more mistakes when they’re as stupid as this man is. And when they’re afraid.” Jamie said that she could see that. “In a little while they’re going to leave, but one of them is going to stay behind until morning. We don’t want him to have a nice place to sleep either.”
Lauren watched the cameras that had been attached to each of the vests the men and women wore while working. Some of them were her people, the rest were locals. She had asked for help only to play nicely with the people that she might have to deal with on a daily basis. Lauren knew that she could play nice in the sandbox, but she didn’t like to.
“May I ask you something? It’s nothing to do with this project of yours, but it’s something that I’ve been thinking about.” Lauren turned to give Jamie her full attention. There was something very sad in her voice, and Lauren wanted to help her any way that she could. “I’m going to have a baby. A
nd I’m worried, now that I’ve thought about it, about whether it will be like me. In fact, that terrifies me a great deal. I would rather it’s not. It could be dangerous for a child who might not understand.”
She thought about what she was saying. There wasn’t really a question there, but Lauren understood what she was asking in a roundabout way. She wanted to tell her that a child would be fine, but who knew with the power that Jamie had?
“Congratulations on the baby. I bet that Hawkins is happy.” Jamie’s face lit up, and Lauren understood that she’d not talked to him about this. “What if the baby has your powers? I mean seriously. If you’re worried about it being unable to handle it all, the way I’m sure that you were at first, the child will have you and Hawkins there to train and teach it. Also, how to be careful with where he or she uses it.”
“It’s so much, Lauren. You have no idea the extent of magic, or whatever this is that I have. I mean, you have every reason to be afraid of me. I am at times too.” Lauren asked her to tell her some of it. “I’ve figured out how to become a bomb in addition to the flame. And I don’t get injured. And that’s something else. Do you have a knife?”
Lauren leaned over and took one out of her boot. Giving it to Jamie, she was impressed at the way she handled it. This knife was thin and long, and sharper than a razor. She’d used it a few times to kill someone quietly and quickly. When Jamie sliced it over her hand, deeply, the wound healed almost before it could bleed.
“Holy shit, girl. That would be damned useful out on the field.” She looked at Jamie and realized that she’d said something wrong. “I’m sorry. But if this worries you, you’ll have to tell me how. Because all I can see is an advantage to saving you from bleeding to the point where you can’t defend yourself.”
Hawkins_McCullough’s Jamboree_Erotic Jaguar Shapeshifter Romance Page 13