No Hiding Behind the Potted Palms! A Dance with Danger Mystery #7

by Barton, Sara M.

  I stopped myself and took a deep breath. That’s when it dawned on me that he wanted the other passengers to know that we had an established connection.

  “I didn’t blow you off,” I shot back. “You didn’t show up! I was there! I waited for you in the foyer!”

  “The foyer? Why would you wait for a man in the foyer? The plan was to meet in the bar for drinks! This is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re a complete prude! You can’t even go into a bar by yourself!” He looked at the tattooed man in the white tank top. “You get what I’m talking about, right? A man likes a woman who has a little self-confidence, a little spunk.”

  “I’ll have you know,” I retorted, “that I’ve been in plenty of bars with plenty of guys, buster.”

  “Right, you’re a real woman of the world.” He smirked, catching the eye of the femme fatale and giving her a wink. “You’ve got the notches on your bed to prove it.”

  I saw the look that passed between them and I saw red. I didn’t need some two-bit, sashaying vampire lady smirking at me, any more than I needed that tattooed thug giving me the once-over. But most of all, I didn’t need Axel Jacobsen making me feel like the least attractive woman on the planet.

  “And you’ve got one hell of a nerve to talk to me that way!” I stood up suddenly and stumbled over the three pairs of legs in the aisle on my way out. I didn’t really care where I was going, as long as it was far away from Axel. Even though I knew we were playing our roles, his words still stung. I had the urge to bring him up short, to wound him as he wounded me. Maybe his words were a little too close to the truth. Maybe I wasn’t a woman of the world, bed-hopping through life. I was no Mandy. That didn’t mean I wasn’t capable of being sexy.

  Furious, I stomped off to the restroom, fully intending to take a deep breath and settle myself down. As I reached for the handle, I felt a hand close on mine. The next thing I knew, I was being pushed into the narrow confines of the tiny space, and all I could feel was the muscular form of the man behind me.

  Chapter Six —

  “Get your damn hands off me!” I snarled.

  “Kelsey, it’s me,” Axel said confidently. “Relax.”

  “Relax? You want me to relax? You rude bastard!” I wanted to pummel him, but there was no room to turn around.

  “Hey! I’m doing my job! I’m building your character, so they think you’re a babe in the woods!” By now, he had his arms around my waist and he was talking softly in my ear. “I want them to leave you alone.”

  I stopped struggling. Somewhere inside my brain, his words began to make sense. He loosened his grip on me.

  “I’ll leave first. You count to sixty before you come out. Okay?” He leaned in, his mouth close to my ear. “You smell good, by the way.”

  Before I could respond, he was out the door. I heard him talking to someone in the corridor, so I leaned closer to the door to hear the conversation.

  “Trust me. I had the burrito last night. You do not want to go in there,” Axel insisted. There was a muffled response and three short taps on the door. I began counting.

  Was Axel telling me the truth? Was he only saying those things to convince the bad guys I was just a normal citizen? Or was he enjoying my humiliation at his hands? I thought about what Agent Devry said. Axel’s wife had been fooling around with a neighbor. Maybe he was trying to punish all women for the sins of his wife. After all, that must have been a big blow to his manhood.

  I could relate to that, I decided, remembering how I felt when I discovered that Tark and Mandy were having an affair. It cut like a knife to know they had been making love in the bed I bought for our house. I was the one who shopped for all the furniture, the food. I was the one who made the nest. Tark was the one who feathered it with his assistant.

  “Sixty,” I softly said. I turned the handle and stepped out into the corridor, straight into the unyielding barrel chest of the man in the white tank top.

  “I don’t care what that guy says, chica.” He gave me a toothy shark-like smile. “You’re a fine-looking lady. I’ll bet you’re muy fantástico in bed.”

  “Oh, shut up, creep!” Before the words were out of my mouth, powerful hands grabbed me roughly and slammed me against the wall. I felt his forearm against my throat, cutting off my air supply. The beefy arms were hairy and determined.

  “You do not talk to Hector Fernandez that way! Comprende?” he growled at me. I stared up into those dangerous eyes and realized I had provoked a predator. I had no doubt this was a man who would punish me for insulting his manhood. This was a man who meant business. This was a killer.

  “What’s going on here?” One of the men from the Homeland Security team appeared in the corridor. I could see him standing right behind Hector as he pinned me against the wall. As the law man insisted on an explanation, a veil came down upon my tormentor’s face. Gone was the menacing fury of a man bent on vengeance. It disappeared behind the charming smile Hector turned on as he slowly, carefully let go of me.

  “The lady was feeling faint,” he explained. “I was merely helping her to recover herself.”

  “Is that right?” a strong, no-nonsense voice demanded. “Is that what happened?”

  I looked at the man from Homeland Security. I looked at Hector. On the one hand, I could tell the truth and Hector could be carted off for bothering me, which would no doubt incite his rage further, or I could brush it all off as a misunderstanding and let Axel know as soon as I safely could.

  “It was nothing,” I responded demurely. “Can I go back to my seat now?”

  Experienced law enforcement eyes studied me briefly. I could see he didn’t believe me, but he shrugged and stepped aside. Hector’s breath was hot upon my face as he continued to stand there, smelling slightly of mingled sweat, onions and garlic. He may have removed his hands from my neck, but the bulk of his body still threatened me.

  “We will finish our conversation later, chica.” As soon as those words were out of his mouth, I knew it wasn’t over.

  “No, we won’t,” I said definitively. “We will not have a conversation. We have no reason to have a conversation. You will leave me alone.”

  With that, I maneuvered around Hector’s meaty body and headed back to my seat. Axel looked up at me when I threw myself down. I could feel his eyes on me. A moment later, Hector returned to his seat. I could see his feet cross the floor, but I didn’t look up. I didn’t want him to see the fear in my eyes.

  “So,” the femme fatale opposite me sighed, “you grew up in Duluth, Roger?”

  “That’s right, Lacy,” Axel confirmed. “Born and raised in the great state of Minnesota.”

  I listened to the two of them conversing as I reclined in my coach seat, feigning sleep. She kept trying to convince him that she was a real catch, telling him that she was a personal trainer at a Washington, DC gym, who worked with members of Congress, movers and shakers in the federal government, and even some foreign diplomats.

  “Wow,” he gushed. “That’s fascinating. Your job sounds very interesting. And I’ll bet it’s rewarding, too!”

  It was all I could do to bite my tongue and not blurt out the most obvious perks of her job. Clearly this was a woman who was used to sleeping her way through the federal register. Suddenly, the unfairness of it all struck me. Here was a woman who clearly enjoyed a romp in the sack and didn’t seem all that fussy about who shared her adventure. Why wasn’t Hector pursuing her? The two of them could go at it like rabbits, for all I cared, and yet I was the one Hector was threatening. I was the one who rejected that sneering shark and now he was bent on making me pay for the perceived insult to his manhood. What had happened to my life?

  The pity party I was holding took a turn for the worse. I began to think about how all this started because Warren insisted I come back and straighten out his gallery opening. What if I had caught a plane? None of this would be happening. And then I thought about Uncle Jack’s friend. If only Mr. Wilfred hadn’t suggested I take the auto t
rain, I would be safe now. But even as I thought that, I knew it wasn’t true. My life changed the moment I walked into that art gallery. If only I hadn’t thought that gecko would be a nice touch at Warren’s opening. That was really the only reason this catastrophe had unfolded — that and the young, inexperienced DEA agent who picked me to use as a foil. Big, fat tears formed inside my eyelids and before I could stop them, they escaped down my cheeks. I quickly brushed them away, not even daring to open my eyes. I didn’t want to see the look on the queen of the exercise circuit’s face as she pitied me. I certainly didn’t want to lock eyes with Hector, the natural-born killer. And most of all, I didn’t want Axel to see how deep the hurt went inside me, all the way to my heart. I was a good girl. I played by the rules. I tried to be nice. I worked hard. What did I get for my effort? Nothing but a big, fat kick in the teeth. Life wasn’t fair. My rumination was interrupted by a crackle of the PA system.

  “Lorton!”

  A shiver of relief filled me as I got myself busy digging through my purse for the paperwork I had on Uncle Jack’s car. Soon, all of this would be behind me, just a horrible memory.

  “You should look me up at the gym,” said Lacy. “Maybe we could work out together, or maybe catch a ballgame sometime.”

  She took her time letting her eyes linger on Axel’s physique before giving him a sly wink. From out of nowhere came a groan and all eyes focused on me. To my horror, I realized I had made that wounded animal sound. I rubbed my head, as if it hurt, trying to cover up for my lack of self-control. What was happening to me? I was not known for being outspoken or even bold.

  “That’d be great. Maybe the next time I’m in Washington. I’m just here for the plywood convention this time. But I come here about three or four times a year.”

  “Plywood?” Lacy looked disappointed. Apparently, she was expecting something a little more glamorous.

  “Yes,” Axel agreed. “I work for one of the biggest lumber outfits in the country. Our products are in sixty-eight percent of all homes. We make everything from exterior grade to veneer boards like luan.”

  Lacy’s eyes began to glaze over as Axel proceeded to explain his non-existent job to her in great detail, including how plywood is manufactured. As he spoke, I began to see a glimpse of his boyish sense of humor. He was clearly having fun with the role. I turned my eyes to the view of the station, letting my ears drink in the conversation. The longer he talked with enthusiasm about lumber, the cooler Lacy’s ardor grew. By the time we were all ready to exit the passenger car and adjourn to the waiting area, Lacy was trying to escape. Axel turned to me quickly and uttered one word in my ear.

  “Faint,” he instructed me. I looked at him and realized he was serious. With an exaggerated groan, I dropped my purse to the floor and slumped down. I was expecting him to catch me, but instead I landed awkwardly on the seat, banging my elbow, as Axel walked away.

  “Ouch!” I cried. My fellow passengers turned to look.

  “What’s wrong?” Axel rushed to my side. “Are you okay?”

  I put a hand up to my face and brushed away a stray lock of hair, before letting out a very long sigh. Leaning back in the seat, I closed my eyes, doing my best impression of a damsel in distress.

  “I’m a little dizzy,” I confessed.

  “Water!” Axel hollered. “We need a glass of water here!”

  The other passengers disembarked as we sat there. Robert found me a bottle of Pleasant Valley Springs water. Axel took his sweet time uncapping it, being ever so solicitous as the final stragglers exited the car.

  “Why didn’t you catch me?” I demanded to know when we were alone. “I hurt my elbow.”

  “We needed it to look real,” was his reply. “I didn’t want anyone to think we were acting.”

  “You could have at least warned me!” I sniffed, rubbing the bruise.

  “Then you wouldn’t have been so convincing. What was that deal with Mr. Tank Top?”

  It took another ten minutes of conversation before Axel and I finally stood up, but he was fully apprised about Hector Fernandez. I could tell by the tightness of his jaw that Axel wasn’t happy about the new wrinkle in the equation. As we sat there, watching the passengers exit, I caught sight of Hector talking to the man with the smoldering eyes.

  “They’re friends,” I exclaimed with surprise.”

  “Are you talking about Miguel Arias?” Axel wanted to know. “The tall guy?”

  “Yes. He sat across from me.”

  “Babe, that’s the district manager for the cartel. Hector is his enforcer.”

  “Criminy!” I had been surrounded by the cartel’s thugs and I didn’t even know it. “Maybe that’s why Hector came on so strong. He was trying to find out if I knew Diego.”

  “Or maybe Hector is just your average cartel killer, without a whiff of a conscience in any cell of his body, happy to kill for the fun of it.”

  ‘Isn’t it great how you have a way with words,” I fired back. “Always looking to make a woman feel safe and secure.”

  “That’s me, Mr. Thoughtful.” He gave me a wide grin in return. “Anything else I can do for you today?”

  Amtrak made a grand effort to see me off the auto train comfortably. Robert arranged for a porter to collect our things from the train and we followed, me leaning on the DEA agent as we made our way into the station waiting area. We handed our paperwork to another train station employee as Axel sat me down on a chair. By now, the press had finished interviewing the passengers as they were leaving. The cameramen were packing up their equipment as the reporters were briefing their colleagues by cell phone.

  “Anything to say about what happened on the train,” an earnest, eager young woman asked, thrusting a microphone under my chin.

  “Ooh,” I groaned. “ Ooh!”

  “Just take it easy,” my protector admonished me. “You have to be careful. I don’t want you to faint again.”

  “I’m Megan Mitchell, News Four. Were you injured in the terror attack?”

  “I think I’m going to throw up!”I responded, feigning nausea. I gagged a couple of times, just to emphasize the potential for vomiting, aiming at her expensive heels, and the reporter fled. Axel couldn’t let it go. He was having too much fun.

  “Do you want a barf bag?” Axel asked in a voice that carried through the air, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Is there a barf bag handy? Or maybe a wastebasket? She says she’s going to throw up!”

  Chapter Seven —

  “I’m okay,” I insisted. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

  “Well, I’m going to stay with you. I want to make sure you get safely on the road.”

  Our cars were moved to the train parking lot a short time later and the keys were returned to us by a couple of young Amtrak employees.

  “You know the drill?” Axel asked as we headed out to collect our cars, grasping my uninjured elbow tightly in his hand. “Park the car, lock it, and walk to the coffee house. Don’t look back. Don’t look around. I’ll be there, right behind you.”

  “Caribou Coffee. Lorton Market Street. I’ve been there. I’ll be fine.”

  Axel waited until I was settled behind the wheel and my overnight case was in the back seat of Uncle Jack’s Camry, and then he climbed into the Ford Escape that was parked beside me. I carefully backed out and headed the short distance to Lorton Market.

  I found a spot near the front door of the coffee shop, grabbed my purse, and got out of the car. As I crossed the distance to the sidewalk, my attention was caught by the sound of a motorcycle accelerating. I turned to my right, following the noise, and froze. Bearing down on me was a powerful Harley and a very determined driver.

  “Kelsey!” Axel appeared out of nowhere and shoved me forward. I stumbled several steps, trying to stay upright. It was enough to get me out of the path of the racing machine. I turned to Axel. He was staring at the disappearing Harley and the white tank top-wearing driver. “That bastard!”

  “Hector!” I cri
ed. “He tried to run me over!”

  “Come on,” Axel said, grabbing my hand. He ushered me quickly into the coffee shop and into a chair. “Sit there for a minute.”

  He left me at the table and headed over to the front window. I could see him talking animatedly on his smartphone. I waited anxiously, wondering if Hector would come back to finish the job. What was I going to do when Axel left me?

  He stopped at the counter on his way to the table, picking up a couple of coffees. As he slid mine across the table, our hands touched. In that instant, our eyes met and despite the brown contact lenses, I thought I saw worry in his.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. It’s nothing,” Axel insisted. “No worries.”

  “Liar,” I shot back. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Relax, Kelsey. I’ve got this.” He lifted the lid on his paper cup and blew on his coffee. He wouldn’t look at me, so I knew it was serious.

  “Please, Axel.” I touched his hand with my fingers, softening the tone of my voice. “I need to know.”

  “People are working on it. We’re to stay here until it’s solved. Let’s just sit back and relax. It’s going to be a while.”

  We sat in silence for several minutes, watching the early crowd filter in. I could smell the aromas coming from the bakery area.

  “Can I ask you something?” He was looking at me quizzically. “And I don’t want you to bite off my head or snap my neck off.”

  “If you promise not to be a jerk about it,” I replied.

  “Have you ever been married?”

  “Yes,” I answered, focusing on my coffee cup and the now-cold liquid sitting in the bottom of it.

  “Really?” Axel seemed shocked.

  “You seem surprised,” I told him. For some reason, his reaction to the news felt like an insult.

  “Are you married now?” He still wore that puzzled look on his face.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. You seem so…prickly. I just figured you for an unmarried spinster.”