Actual Stop

by Kara A. McLeod

  Pushing my edginess aside, I turned back to face her, buttoning my shirt. She was digging through her bag, obviously rummaging for the supplies she’d need to take a shower. I watched her in silence for a few long moments, but she refused to look at me.

  “So,” I said finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, “since we’re both here, do you want to grab breakfast before we head over to Manhattan? Do we have time?”

  “Sure.” The chill in Allison’s voice sent a ripple up my spine and made me faintly nauseous. She focused solely on her bag, almost as if I weren’t even there.

  I bit back the aggravated retort that swam to my lips, refusing to let her know that she’d thrown me. I hated it when she behaved like this, and I hated it even more that I still cared. But she didn’t need to know that. “Any place in particular you’d like to go?”

  “No.” Her movements had become quick and jerky, her search obviously not going well.

  I sat down on the bench and began drying my feet with a paper towel so I could put my socks on. I continued to watch her silently from beneath my eyebrows. The out-of-control thudding in my chest now had more to do with my discomfort caused by her mood than any lingering arousal.

  “Damn it.”

  I jumped. “What’s the matter?”

  Allison sighed, her irritation plain. “I forgot my flip-flops in my hotel room.”

  I slipped on my shoes, retrieved my flip-flops from the floor in front of my locker, and put them down in front of her.

  She glanced up at me and looked somewhat surprised.

  I shrugged and grinned. “Easily remedied.”

  “Thanks.” Her cool demeanor was beginning to thaw somewhat.

  I shot her another quick smile, sloughing off a vague sense of relief. As I finished getting dressed and donned all my equipment in silence, I stole glances at Allison in the mirror whenever I thought I could get away with it.

  She padded back and forth between the shower and her duffel bag, carefully setting out her shampoo, conditioner, and soap, singing along with the song playing on the radio. She ironed her shirt and organized her clothes while I put on my makeup.

  I spent several long minutes arranging my hair so it fell down artfully over my forehead on one side in an effort to hide the gash. I turned my head back and forth a few times, examining my work. I bobbed my head once, pleased with the result, and twisted away from the mirror just in time to see Allison streak past me, naked.

  The fire reignited in my cheeks, and I dropped my eyes. My breath caught in my throat, and my heart stopped beating. Damn, that woman was gorgeous!

  “You okay?” Allison asked.

  “Sure,” I lied, my voice cracking. I winced and cleared my throat, turning my back on her to gather my belongings, grateful to have a task that gave me a reason not to look at her. I swung my bag up onto my shoulder. “I’m going to my desk for a few minutes to get some stuff done. Meet you down at the car. I’m parked out front. Black Impala across from the fire hydrant.”

  “Okay,” Allison replied as she disappeared into the shower. “I’ll be down ASAP.”

  I breezed out of there as fast as I could, never looking back.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  As I made my way back upstairs to my desk, my mind was spinning like Brody’s fishing reel as Jaws was pulling it. I couldn’t remain focused on my upcoming assignment and all the tasks that lay ahead of me. Instead, I thought about Allison’s complete lack of modesty in the locker room just now and what, if anything, it’d meant. Not that it should’ve mattered. I had a not-girlfriend, and Allison had broken my heart ages ago.

  The sound of barely contained shouting interrupted me. I frowned and consulted my watch. Who could even be in at this hour, let alone engaged in such a heated argument? Only the gym rats should’ve been in the office. And I couldn’t think of anyone who would’ve been yelling.

  The shouting grew louder the farther I went down the hall.

  “Goddamn it, Dharma! What the hell’s the matter with you? Are you a complete fucking moron? What did I tell you? Huh? How many times have we had this conversation?” A pause. Then, “Stop! Just fucking stop. How hard is that? Jesus Christ! I don’t know why you can’t just get this through your thick skull.”

  I hesitated just outside the open doorway to my boss’s office as he continued to berate his wife. I debated turning back and taking another way to my own desk. I didn’t want him to know I’d heard any of that. I could only imagine how that would go over. I was already in enough hot water with him. Taking a deep breath, I rushed past the doorway, only chancing the swiftest of glances inside as I scurried. Thankfully, his back was to the hall.

  I cringed as the slew of curses and insults continued to pick up steam and become increasingly more hateful until I was no longer in earshot. I’d always been amazed that a man as prickly as Mark had managed to get someone to agree to marry him. After what I’d just heard, I was flabbergasted he’d somehow gotten her to stay. I couldn’t imagine what poor Dharma had done to garner that sort of scolding, but I seriously doubted it warranted such cursing and belittling.

  The sound of my own phone ringing floated to my ears, and I hurried the rest of the way down the hall. I made it to my desk just in time to grab it before the call got kicked over to voice mail.

  “Secret Service.”

  “Hey, Ryan. It’s Sarah.”

  “Hey. What’s going on?”

  “You okay? You sound a little breathless.”

  “Yeah. Just got back from the gym. What’s up? You’re in early.”

  “I could say the same for you. I didn’t expect to catch you. I was going to leave you a message.”

  “I’ve got the POTUS visit on Monday. You?”

  “I have a protection assignment today. I needed to grab some equipment from the office.”

  “Ugh. Hopefully it’s a short one.”

  “Yeah. Couple hours. I should be done around lunchtime.”

  “Good luck.”

  “You, too. I won’t keep you. Just wanted to touch base. Did you get a chance to talk to Akbari?”

  I pulled the file folder containing my notes from the interview as well as the envelope with the pictures Meaghan had taken out of my desk drawer. “I did, actually. Night before last. I’m sorry I didn’t call you to fill you in. It’s been crazy here.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I was out all day yesterday on a protection assignment and couldn’t really talk anyway. So what’d he say?”

  “About what you’d expected. He claimed he doesn’t know where he got the bill.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  I snorted. “Of course not.”

  Sarah chuckled. “Didn’t think so. Did you bring up the lying-to-a-federal-agent statute?”

  I grinned. “Don’t I always?”

  “That’s my girl.” Sarah’s tone was wry. “And it wasn’t enough to crack him, huh?”

  “No, but it made him sweat a little. Literally and figuratively. I don’t think he’s involved in the actual printing, though. I took one of our evidentiary notes with me to play a little game of show-and-tell, and he didn’t even blink.”

  “What kind of bill? How was it counterfeited?”

  “On an ink-jet printer.”

  “Oh, yeah. He’d have picked up on that difference right away if he was our guy.”

  “Yeah, I thought so, too. But just because he isn’t printing them doesn’t mean he doesn’t know who is. In fact, I’ll bet you a genuine hundred that he does.”

  Sarah made a clicking sound with her tongue. “A fool’s wager, since I want to believe that he knows. Think you can get it out of him?”

  “I’m planning to try. I left him to think it over with the promise that I’d be back. I have the visit Monday, and then I roll into Iran on Thursday, but I plan to try to squeeze in another chat with him somewhere between them.”

  “Jesus, you guys are almost as busy as we are.”

  “Sarah, we’re busier t
han you are. We actually work cases.” I liked to tease her.

  “Whatever.”

  I laughed.

  “Shut up. Oh, by the way, I’ve been meaning to thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For my fruit basket and for sending those NYFO shirts down for Lydia. I take it that means your girl enjoyed the tickets?” The mischievous edge to her voice made me smile.

  Lydia, Sarah’s boyfriend’s sister (or cousin or aunt or someone), was a trainer for the Connecticut Sun. Through Sarah, she’d provided me with front-row seats for a home game against the New York Liberty, which I’d used as a birthday surprise for Lucia—whose obsession with the Liberty bordered on fanatical.

  Sarah had mentioned that Lydia was what we affectionately called a “holster sniffer”—someone with an affinity for law-enforcement officers—so I’d sent her a couple of NYFO Secret Service shirts as a thank you. Lucia’d had a blast, both at the game and then upon meeting some of the players afterward, so sending the trainer a few shirts and Sarah some fruit for her part in arranging it to show my gratitude was definitely the least I could do.

  “Yeah, she was thrilled. Please thank Lydia again for me.”

  “Can I tell her that her tickets got you laid?” Sarah sounded as though she was struggling not to laugh.

  “No, you cannot tell her that!” My God, did the woman have no class?

  “Oh, so you didn’t get laid?”

  “I’m hanging up now, Sarah.”

  Sarah wasn’t even trying to contain her laughter anymore. “Oh, come on. Brian’s overseas and won’t be back for months. I’ve got to live vicariously through someone.”

  “I’ll talk to you later.”

  I hung up, and the sound of hurried footsteps approaching my open office door made me tense and look up. It was still too early for most people to be here, and whatever would cause someone to move with that much purpose at this hour couldn’t be good.

  Mark burst into my office suddenly and stumbled to a halt. He looked nearly as surprised as I felt, and I hurriedly slammed the folder with the Akbari notes shut. I hoped I didn’t look too guilty but somehow doubted it. Why the hell was he was running around the nearly empty office, and what’d prompted him to come charging into my work-space?

  “O’Connor.” Mark’s eyes darted around the room skittishly before settling back on me. He appeared to be even more wound up than usual.

  I was so flummoxed I completely forgot to argue with him for calling me that. “Sir.”

  We stared at one another for a long moment.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be conducting a PPD advance today?”

  Ire, sharp and acrid, clawed at the back of my throat and grated painfully like sand behind my eyes. Was he checking up on me? It wouldn’t surprise me. Tripping me up seemed to be his goal in life lately. But there was no way for him to know I’d be in this early, so that couldn’t have been it.

  “Yes, sir.” I wanted to snap at him, but a small part of me thought it might be time to at least attempt to keep the smart-ass-ery to a minimum. Especially considering his current mood.

  “Do you plan to do that from behind your desk?”

  I gripped my kneecaps tightly, using the dull ache the pressure produced to ground myself. “No. I’m waiting for the PPD lead. She’s at the gym. I was just catching up on a couple phone calls.”

  Mark regarded me intently for a long moment, and I had to force myself not to fidget or squirm under the scrutiny. For lack of anything better to do, and in an attempt to retreat from this awkward situation as fast as I could, I swept the Akbari folder into a pile with some other advance paperwork I had lying around and shoved the whole lot into my bag. I stood and moved out from behind my desk toward the door.

  Before I could walk past him, Mark abruptly spun around and stalked out without uttering another word. Frowning, I closed and locked the door behind me. It wasn’t until I’d almost made it to my car that I realized he hadn’t said a word to me about why he’d come to my office.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  About an hour after I’d fled her naked presence in the locker room, Allison emerged from the building. She looked stunning in a charcoal suit and pale-ivory button-down shirt with a leather satchel over her shoulder. Her hair tumbled loosely to her shoulders, and she moved with the easy confidence I remembered. I clenched the steering wheel, determined to stop being turned on by every single thing she did.

  Allison slid into the passenger seat next to me, focused completely on her BlackBerry.

  “Any thoughts on breakfast?” I asked.

  “Mmm? Oh. Uh, yeah. Why don’t we go to that diner I like in Chelsea. Is that okay?”

  “Sure.” I carefully pulled out into traffic and pointed the car in the direction of the Brooklyn Bridge. Allison was reading an email, so I stayed quiet.

  “We have a walkthrough at oh-nine-hundred,” Allison said. “A police meeting at thirteen-hundred and a countdown meeting at eighteen-hundred. Oh, and we need to find time to meet with the second supe.”

  I wrinkled my nose at the mention of a meeting with her boss as I tried to mentally schedule the day. My work cell phone vibrated on my belt, interrupting me. I pulled it out of the holster and started to answer it.

  Allison snatched the phone out of my hand. “Oh, no, you don’t.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Keep your eyes on the road.” I grabbed for the phone, and she jerked it out of reach. “Both hands on the wheel.” She slapped at me with her free hand.

  “I need to answer that!”

  She shook her head and answered. “Hello?”

  “Uh…Hello?” a voice said through the speaker.

  “Hello?” Allison said again.

  “Ryan?”

  I made a face as Allison held the phone up closer to me. “Yeah?”

  “Oh, hey, Ryan. It’s Jim.”

  He was the backup of the squad. Kind of like the assistant manager. He was the same pay grade I was, only the poor guy had a hell of a lot more headaches and responsibility and none of the fun.

  “Hey, Jim. You’re in early. What’s up?”

  “I have a problem. Aaron’s on vacation, and we’ve got guys who didn’t take their PT tests last quarter. We need to administer them to the squad ASAP and backdate them so they’re in compliance.”

  I sighed. I was in no mood to oversee anyone’s physical-fitness tests, let alone falsify government documents. “I’m the field office counterpart for the POTUS visit Monday. Then I have to do some interviews before I roll into the Iran visit Thursday.”

  “I know. The timing sucks. I’m really sorry.”

  I searched for a way to make the situation work. “Okay, wheels up is scheduled for twelve-hundred hours Monday. I’ll just come to the office after the visit. I can administer the test to half the guys and take care of the rest Tuesday morning.”

  “Just make sure you enter the results into the mainframe by the end of the week.”

  “No problem. Hey, can you make sure Meaghan’s schedule stays clear Tuesday and Wednesday? I’m taking her on those interviews with me.”

  “Consider it done.”

  “Thanks. Also, I forgot to tell you, my recertification for rescue swimmer is coming up. I need you to block out the dates for me so I don’t get picked up for another assignment.”

  “Okay.” I could hear the scratching of a pen on his end of the line. “Do you know exactly when that is? You need to go back to Beltsville for that, right?”

  “Yeah. It’s the week of the twenty-first.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Do you want me to email the guys to tell them the good news about their PT tests?”

  “No. I’ll take care of it. You concentrate on the visit.”

  “Thanks, Jim. Talk to you later.”

  “Sure thing. Stay safe.”

  I nodded at Allison to hang up and tried to ignore her strange expression. I held out a hand for the phone, which I returned to
my belt, as she continued to stare at me.

  “What?” The unwavering attention unnerved me.

  “You’re a PT coordinator?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And a rescue swimmer?”

  I nodded.

  “Huh.” She appeared amused.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  The ringing of my personal cell phone stopped my sharp retort. I pulled it out to answer it, and Allison snatched it out of my hands. Again. I gave her a look meant to wither, but she only laughed.

  “You are the worst driver ever.” She gestured toward the windshield. “I need you to keep both hands on the wheel and as much of your focus on the road as you can, so we don’t die.”

  “I’ll kill you myself if you don’t give me back my phone.”

  Allison chuckled, hit the “accept” button displayed on the touch screen, and held it up for me. Her eyes danced. Clearly, she thought she was very clever.

  “Hello?” I said, rolling my eyes at her to let her know exactly what I thought of her cute little quips.

  “Hey, baby.” Lucia’s voice floated to me over the airwaves.

  Blood rushed into my cheeks with all the subtlety of a massive volcanic eruption, and while I deliberately avoided looking at Allison, I could feel her dark eyes boring into me. “Hey. I’ve got you on speaker,” I said quickly. I wanted to make sure she didn’t say anything too personal or revealing. I refused to attempt to decipher why having Allison listening in on my interaction with the woman I was seeing would bother me.

  “So that’s why you sound so funny,” Lucia said.

  “Uh-huh.” It probably had more to do with Allison than the speaker phone, but she didn’t need to know that.

  “Where are you right now?” Lucia asked

  “On Chambers. Why? Do you need something?”

  “Just my phone. You grabbed the wrong one when you left this morning. You got dressed in the dark again, didn’t you?”