by Grady, D. R.
More screens revealed little else, so eventually, Greg exited the site. He shut the computer down and stretched in the darkness. Old habits kept his movements slow and subtle.
Now that he had some information on the recipients of his former employer’s estate, more questions chased through his mind. But he couldn’t help shake the instinct that he was closer to the answers they needed.
This new info provided another good reason to call Janine, since she’d want to know the Morris connection, but he resisted. She wouldn’t thank him if he called again tonight. Just like he doubted she was planning to kiss him. How could he harbor these desires for her when he meant death to any woman he dated?
He knew this. If he dated Janine, he might as well sign her death certificate, because his enemies would find her.
Chapter 20
Janine rested the phone between her shoulder and ear as she placed another plate in the dishwasher. “You did find our John Morris?” Glee furled wings of promise through her as she straightened and gripped the phone.
“I think so,” General Emma replied, but Janine could hear excitement in her voice.
“What’s the website?” Lunging for a pad and pen, Janine wrote furiously as Emma read off the URL. She couldn’t wait to check out the site.
“Now, bear in mind, I haven’t been able to get on today. I think the site is down right now.”
“Do you know whose it is?”
“I think it’s probably his legitimate family.” Emma’s voice sounded a bit strained, like she bit her lip.
“It’s okay, Emma. I’m just happy for these answers. I guess I always figured my parents weren’t married, and that their parents before them weren’t. It really doesn’t matter now.”
“No, it doesn’t. You’re a Morrison, and that’s all we need to know.”
“Do you think these people will give us a DNA sample?”
“I don’t know. They don’t say much about their ancestor; just that he arrived by ship at a young age to the island.”
“Are there pictures?”
“Yes. A few. The woman looks remarkably like a mixture of you and me. She’s blonde like me. The man actually resembles Ben and Tom.”
“So they’re probably our relation.”
“I’d say it’s worth pursuing.” Janine wondered if her words were true. What if they further investigated and brought more danger to these unknown maybe-relatives? Not that there was much danger at this point. Greg’s car had blown up, but that might be unrelated.
She couldn’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t want them to find their ancestors. Maybe these people wouldn’t appreciate her and Ben breezing in and claiming to be relatives. What if the fact that there was an illegitimate side of the family tore them apart?
This had all happened at least three generations ago. So it shouldn’t, but Janine wondered if the other Morris branch would welcome them. It would be interesting to see if any of them remembered John. Aunt Tilly would likely want to ask them a few questions. Most notably, why? Why had he sailed away from kith and kin all those years past? Perhaps no one in the family could provide answers, but it would still be worth asking.
“Thanks for helping me on this, Aunt Emma.”
“You’re welcome, love. I enjoyed the research.”
Janine smiled. “I’m glad. I can’t say I did.”
Emma laughed. “I will admit to growing weary of some of the boring family pictures and blogs I encountered, but if this is our ancestor, it will have been worth the tedium.”
“I’ll agree to that. I can’t wait for this site to come back up.”
“Give it some time. Someone is probably updating it.”
“Right.”
“That’s one quality I especially enjoy about you, Janine.”
“What’s that?” Janine frowned. One quality. She hoped she had more than one.
“Your patience is nearly legendary. Just yesterday Monica said in conversation, ‘I swear such and such has the patience of Janine.’ And you know, we all knew exactly what she was talking about. I don’t think you got your patience from the Morrison side of the family.”
Janine laughed. “I’ve heard that from other family members. But Lainy and Max both seem patient.” Her patience had only come through extensive training, but she couldn’t share that.
“They are, to some extent, but no one compares to you.” Emma sighed. “Even though some of us are endeavoring to be more like you.”
“General, we love you just the way you are.”
“Thank you, sweet. We love you the way you are, too.” Warmth infused Emma’s voice and Janine didn’t doubt the love she heard there. These people counted her as one of their own. So why did she have to know the answers about John Morris? Why did she have to throw a monkey wrench into the operation with her questions?
Yet despite her fears she had come too far to back down now. There were so many questions that needed answering, if not for her, then for Ben’s children, at least. But she wanted those answers. She knew she belonged to the Morrisons, but the biological information would be good to know from a medical standpoint. Doctors tended to care about that kind of thing.
“I’m glad.” Janine heard the emotion in her voice and swallowed the rest. She wasn’t the type to grow weepy and emotional. There was no reason to start now.
“I am, too. My husband just pulled in, so I’d better go kiss him.”
Janine loved the love and anticipation in her voice. “You do that. Bye, Aunt Emma.”
“Bye, Janine.”
They hung up and Janine basked in the glow of the love and warmth that had suffused her while speaking with Emma. Had Greg ever known such love? Would he enjoy it if granted to him?
She knew KC loved Greg, and Greg loved KC, but even KC sometimes was overwhelmed by the Morrison outpouring. Not always, but sometimes. Of course, Ryan took the love and affection in his stride, without question. He was also only seven. So maybe that was part of the reason.
When the Morrisons got too much for her to handle, Janine had learned to retreat into her home. The solitude there soothed her soul and helped her regroup. She’d effectively erected her own barriers. Each of her family members appeared to understand and appreciate that.
Janine finished loading the dishwasher and remembered her time in Kuwait. She had spent two tours there, without a place she could truly call her own. Sharing a cramped tent with other women, with only a cot had proved far more difficult than she ever imagined, but she lived.
Because she knew the time wouldn’t last?
But if she and Greg were to embark on a relationship, it would last. At least longer than her tours had. Hopefully. The purpose of a relationship was to find a life’s mate. Of course, that would also imply an intimate relationship, and she and Greg had yet to kiss.
Not that she hadn’t anticipated such a thing. Only last night she’d tossed and turned and wrestled with an agony of need for a man who hadn’t even touched her yet. A man who might yet leave her. He hadn’t made any promises.
On the other hand, she hadn’t asked for any, either. Maybe she should. What exactly did she want from him?
If she knew the answer to that simple and complex question, Janine figured she’d be way ahead of the game.
Amber eyes stared back at him, but Greg couldn’t tear his from Janine’s luscious lips. His pulse pounded in his ears as she turned her head slightly and the sunbeam behind her caught and captured her face. The light danced over her smooth cheek and gilded her hair.
Watching her, he entreated her to step forward, he beckoned, but in the shadows as he was, he doubted she could see him. Still the vines that sought to entrap him remained at bay as she neared. Like she repelled them. They couldn’t cling to him so lovingly when Janine stepped forward.
Greg watched with hunger as her body took shape. She was all light, grace, and beauty, things he’d known little of in his life. He wanted to reach out and capture her as easily as the sun had, but what if
she resisted? And what about Miranda? She was a woman who had forfeited her life because of him.
Would Janine have to forfeit hers because of him, too? Greg couldn’t stand the thought of holding another woman as she gasped her last breath. He couldn’t bear the memory of feeling her blood flowing through his fingers and know he was responsible for her death.
Too much blood.
Janine’s image dissipated as his focus shifted to the surprised faces of the many enemies he’d taken down over the years. More blood that flowed over his hands. More last breaths and the gasps of dying men. Greg glanced at his hands and saw they shone bright red in the dimmed rays of the sun. The vines that Janine had helped to dispel now curled around his feet, dancing subtly on the rising wind.
He heard the distant howls of loneliness that rose in the distance. Knowing it would not ease his pain, he still feared. But he wouldn’t embrace the loneliness. He deserved better. Greg shouted the words into the whipping wind, and felt them snatched from his throat.
“I deserve better!” He yelled again, trying to believe it, but the wind stole the words and pounded him in the chest. As though to shove him back into the grip of the creeping vines. Denying his statement since he wasn’t certain himself that he deserved anything good.
“Nooooooo,” the wind answered. Something rose and gripped him around the neck. He struggled and twisted, fought to release himself.
“Janine,” he bellowed and her amber eyes appeared before him. The wind subsided and whatever gripped his throat released him. The vines and wind grumbled as the woman subdued them. Her amber eyes sparkled in the returning sun and she raised a hand to him.
Greg swallowed. He raised his own to take her hand and accept all the promise in her eyes.
As he did, something blared beside him and groaning, Greg rolled over and stared at the face of his alarm clock. He shut the buzzer off and did some grumbling of his own. To be awoken from that dream.
Not that he wanted to return to the dimness and vines, but he did want to explore the promise he witnessed in Janine’s eyes. He wanted to watch her every move, stare into her eyes, touch her.
“Now I’m a stinkin’ stalker,” Greg muttered as he tugged on pants and a matching dark shirt. He slid his weapon into its holster and palmed several others that he shoved into their respective hiding spots.
Nothing stirred outside, but that was fine. He’d blend in regardless of what awaited him in the shadows. The shadows were always there, always welcoming. And would provide the cover he needed to watch Janine’s house. To keep her safe.
He tried to convince himself that it wasn’t only Janine he worried about. Max and KC lived across the way and he’d make certain they were okay, too. Janine wouldn’t be the only one to benefit from his quiet perusal of the night. He couldn’t sleep the night through without making certain they were unharmed.
As soon as he eased open the back door he blended with the night. The lock snicked as he threw it into place. It only took his eyes a moment to adjust. When they did, he set off at an easy lope, too used to this type of thing to think about the mile that stretched between him and his goal.
Greg ran, watching the night, making no sound as he moved. A painting, one he wasn’t certain he wanted to paint, formed in his head. KC had taken the one starring Macy and Ryan, the one with Janine watching over them. He thought he’d seen it framed in her family room.
Janine and General Emma had expertly framed the one of his first Morrison gathering. It still looked perfect on her mantle. But no one would want the painting that formed in his brain now. A dark, grim, almost dangerous image. Much like his dream before Janine scared away the darkness.
He slowed as he neared her property and opened more of his senses, wanting to miss nothing. Greg surveyed the area as he ran. Nothing moved in the shadows, except for a gentle breeze that swayed the tree limbs.
Melting into the shadows he watched. The hair on the back of his neck stood parallel to his skin. Greg sank to the ground in a hunkered crouch and fruitlessly searched the area. Something was there, but he couldn’t detect what or who.
Was it vegetable, animal, or human? Could be a car for all he knew. Why didn’t it make a sound? Greg burrowed deeper into the shadows, blending completely with the night. As he did he saw a shape, deer sized, meander from the edge of Janine’s property on to the next.
Another creature, one odiferous to the extreme, small, black with a white stripe, waddled by. Greg didn’t give up his hiding place. That’s all he needed tonight. To be sprayed by a skunk. How would he explain that to Janine?
He took special interest in the oak where one of their enemies had perched. Maybe tonight would be the night their enemy returned. Greg hoped so. Short of someone blowing up his car, they hadn’t seen much action. That shouldn’t worry him, but it did.
Why hadn’t their enemy made more of an effort to neutralize him? Did they want to neutralize him? Or did they just have a few questions for him? Of course, had he been in his rental car when it blew up, he wouldn’t have been very helpful at answering questions.
A light in Janine’s house, an upstairs window, winked off. Greg settled back into his niche and avoided daydreaming about the woman in the bedroom. At least he tried not to think about her.
When he found himself unaware of his surroundings for the third straight minute, Greg scolded himself. This was ridiculous. He was here to help, not fantasize about her. Another shadow, further down lengthened, and Greg frowned. That shadow hadn’t been there when he arrived.
He hadn’t moved since arriving, so he didn’t worry about giving up his location. But that shadow shouldn’t be there. Greg stared, and watched as it moved again. Not a very well trained shadow. He edged closer, so slowly no one would detect him. Except for a SEAL, or likewise, and he made it difficult for one of them too. He doubted he had to worry about this individual.
Surveying the situation, he moved closer still. Light from the fixture attached to the garage shone enough that he noticed a new shadow. She blended into the shadows as neatly as he did, but his heart took to racing, so he knew it was Janine. He entertained himself by sorting through a series of lectures to deliver to her about playing spy when he saw her tackle the shadow he’d been watching.
A gun exploded into the night. No! Not Janine! His heart beat painfully, and fear rose to grapple with the vines. She tumbled the other person away from the illumination. The flare of fire from the end provided enough light for him to see the two inert figures strewn on the grass.
Greg swallowed as he sprinted, trying to dislodge the huge lump in his throat that disallowed breathing. Janine didn’t move and his chest heaved with the effort to breathe. Please let her move, please let her live.
Chapter 21
While Greg thought about despair, the second figure squirmed away from Janine. Her fist shot out and connected with a solid thunk against the man’s jaw. Good shot, Greg thought, as relief spread a nearly euphoric wave through him.
He curled his hands into fists and clenched his jaw as he slowed his panic induced flight. He had to swallow again to keep the words he fought not to say in his mouth. Greg saw her swipe up the gun and remove the ammunition before shoving both into her pants pockets.
“Janine, are you okay?”
She started, and he realized he hadn’t let her know he was in the vicinity. “I’m here,” he said needlessly.
“Thanks.” Her voice little more than a gasp. The man stirred beside her and Janine punched him again. “I’m fine.” Her voice sounded strained.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
How did he ask her what was wrong? Greg frowned and unclenched his fists. She didn’t sound fine, but could he tell her that?
“What are you doing here?” Janine snuck in her question first.
Well, that was a good question. “I had to check up on things.”
He didn’t see Janine’s eyebrow rise, but figured it did. “Just checking on things.” He
r voice was dry as a rice cake, a cardboard offering he avoided whenever possible.
How did he get out of this one? Greg resisted the urge to shuffle awkwardly, and instead nodded.
“You’ve had some trouble here, and I needed some fresh air.”
“I can take care of myself.” He heard no defensiveness in her voice, but he still caught on that she didn’t seem to appreciate his protectiveness.
“I’m aware of that.”
“Then why are you here?”
Since he didn’t have an answer, Greg decided to ignore the question.
Instead, he turned the man who moaned beside Janine. “Do you know him?”
“No.” Greg could tell by looking at the man they wouldn’t get answers out of him tonight.
They stared at him together for a moment before Greg reached into his pocket for his phone. “I’ll call O’Riley. Let’s have him take care of this, shall we?”
“Sounds good to me.” Janine tied the man’s hands behind his back while Greg waited for O’Riley to answer the phone.
Only he didn’t. Since the man was now happily married, Greg left him a voice mail, knowing he checked his messages regularly. He’d take care of matters once he could.
After Janine finished securing the man, Greg hauled him to her garage where they locked him in. Janine turned the key before she turned to look at him. She moved into the circle of the outside garage light, so he could see her face. Which gave nothing away, but he thought he felt some apprehension from her.
When he opened his mouth to say something, anything to help ease the tension she didn’t show, his phone rang. Janine jumped.
He looked at the face. O’Riley, so he took the call.
“Gilmore?”
“Yep.”
“I wish you two would act like civilians.” He heard O’Riley sigh at the end of his statement and Greg’s lips curled up.