CL Hart -From A Distance

by CL Hart

  "You did just fine." Kenzie moistened her lips as Cori turned to face her. "Thank you," Kenzie said with a rare smile. "And thanks for taking my stitches out, and for taking care of me. I'm not used to that. I haven't had to rely on anyone in a very long time and ah..."

  "You're welcome. That's what friends are for."

  "Yeah, about that..." Kenzie ran her fingers through her curly hair.

  "What? You're going to tell me that you didn't have friends, either?"

  "Well, I have, but, ah...um," Her finger picked at the peeling paint on the railing of the Juanita Rose.

  The smile on Cori's face faded as she watched the intense stare of her would-be assassin. "Something tells me you haven't had many. Did you have anything normal in your life, Kenzie?"

  Thoughts and memories flashed through her mind as flecks of paint drifted downward and into the water below. "It's had it moments." Kenzie lifted her eyes to the horizon and she took a deep breath. No one had to tell her that her life had not been typical. John Mifflin had taught her that. He had been the golden boy of his high school, and had joined the service upon graduation. In truth, he had been her only friend, aside from the judge. All of that seemed so long ago, and so very far away. This with Cori, this was different, and she could feel it in the raw ache in her stomach.

  Kenzie turned to face Cori, studying her every feature and, for the first time, really seeing the beauty of the woman beneath the bruises. It would be one of those moments that she would remember for the rest of her life. Even after all they had been through, Cori still had the fresh look of innocence, one that under different circumstances she would have liked to get to know better.

  "Why did you call me your friend?"

  "Well," Cori pushed her flapping hair out of her eyes, "you haven't held a gun on me for almost two days now, and...well, you've saved my life twice, and..." Cori's smile faded as she looked deep into Kenzie's eyes and answered her honestly, "Because I think you need one."

  Their eyes locked for several long heartbeats, until Kenzie had to look away. There was too much communication in the silence and it made her extremely uncomfortable. Looking down at the railing, she began to pick at the paint again until Cori gently laid a hand on top of hers. Kenzie stopped her picking and flattened her hand out on the railing, allowing Cori's fingers to intertwine with her own.

  Hours later, the Juanita Rose pulled into the safe harbor of the tiny town of Santa Rosalia. As per their arrangement, Manny's cousin Fernando was there to meet them. The fishing trawler returned to sea, its captain at the helm hoping Kenzie would reward him as she had promised. If she did, he would not have to fish illegally for a very long time.

  Fernando regarded the two women in the front of his pickup. "So, I know Manny said not to be asking a bunch of questions, but do you need anything in town before we head out to the airstrip?" The one with the curly hair was a real looker with her exotic gold eyes, but the woman with the honey-colored hair made his eyes shine. Neither of them had spoken much, but that was okay by him, as long as they didn't mind him looking.

  Kenzie held on to the frame of the window as they bounced painfully down the pothole riddled road. "We need some clothes, but we don't have any money."

  "Si, that's not a problem. Manny said to look after you, so I'm gonna look after you. There are a few stores in town that will carry what you need. Si?"

  "That sounds fine," Kenzie said as she continued to scan their surroundings. "I also need to know where we'll be landing, then I need to find a phone. I need to make a call to have someone pick us up.

  "Si, si." Fernando smiled and pulled an old cell phone from his pocket.

  Looking at the shape and the apparent age of the phone, Kenzie suggested they find a landline.

  Chapter 9

  In a nondescript building on the south side of town, three men waited silently around a folding particleboard table. The walls of the office were bare, with the exception of a calendar that was two years old and a faded picture of the Seattle Space Needle. A single lopsided aluminum blind hung over the only window, partially obscuring the view outside. The florescent light flickered overhead, its noisy hum the only sound in the room. Situated in the center of the table was a black, three-legged, speakerphone, designed for conference calls. The only other thing on the table was an ashtray holding a smoking pipe.

  Winston Palmer reached for his pipe and placed it between his tightly pursed lips. Drawing deeply, he blew several large puffs of smoke into the already warm room.

  Terry Bucannon was sitting to the left of Palmer, Manuck to his right. Terry constantly waved the pipe smell away from his nose. Being a Deputy Director in the CIA afforded Bucannon the authority to command others, but there was nothing he could do about the smoke coming from Palmer's pipe. When Palmer rose from his chair, Terry thankfully waved away the smoke as he watched the senator move to look out the window.

  "I wouldn't be standing in front of any windows if I were you, Senator," Manuck said to Palmer. "She can take the eye out of a quarter at about 500 yards, and she'd be gone before you hit the floor." Before Palmer could comment, a light on the black box on the table flashed red and began to hum.

  Moving quickly away from the window and taking his seat back at the table, Palmer told himself he had moved because the call they had been waiting for had finally come, not because he feared for his own safety.

  Manuck leaned back in his chair as Terry slapped at the connect button. "Tell me it's done," Manuck demanded.

  A crackly voice filled the room. "No, sir. I've run into another problem."

  "God damn it!" Manuck slammed his hand down on the table. "What's the problem? Can't you just shoot her in the head?"

  Senator Palmer rubbed his face, trying to wipe away the preceding forty-eight hours of tension.

  "It seems there was an incident on the ferry, and - well, I thought she was dead..."

  "You thought? Your orders are not to think, but to do as you're commanded."

  "The intel I had yesterday-"

  "Is she dead or not?"

  "Apparently not, sir."

  "Apparently? Since you're calling us, I'd say probably not. Where is she now?" Manuck said between clenched teeth.

  "Near as I can tell...somewhere on the east side of the Baja... Possibly Santa Rosalia, sir."

  "Possibly? Can you get this job done or not?" Terry asked Cobra, his eyes locked on Manuck's red face.

  Cobra resented the inference of incompetence. He was not used to failure and the indignity that came with it. "I'll phone you when it's done, sir." The connection ended.

  Terry Bucannon rose from his chair and slid it back into place next to the table. "Call me when this is done, then I think we need to take a break and let things settle for a while." He nodded at the two men and departed in silence without waiting for a response.

  Senator Palmer glared at the closed door, "Who the hell does he think he is?"

  "I don't know, but I know what he's becoming...a liability," Manuck said, his thoughts on the present problem.

  "I don't think we have to guess that she'll be heading for the border."

  "Don't worry, Senator, she won't get across it."

  "What about Maquinar?"

  "Let's just leave it alone for now."

  In a town the size of Santa Rosalia, almost everyone was related, either by birth or by marriage. Everyone knew everyone else. The small seaside town was renowned for the metal church designed by Gustave Eiffel, the man who designed the Eiffel Tower, and for its famous El Boleo Bakery. Everywhere one went, the warm aromatic smells of freshly baked rolls filled the air. Pushcart hot dogs and handmade tacos were available on almost every street corner. It was a quaint Mexican location, though it retained a definite sense of its French heritage as well.

  Fernando pointed out a few tourist shops selling ponchos, blankets, and pinatas. "Most turistas don't come here to shop, so we tend to cater more to our own. That is fine by me," he said as he pulled his pickup truck u
p to the sidewalk. "We'll find what you need here."

  The two women exited from the truck and went into the store. It was a small store. Many types of clothing were stacked high on unseen tables. A wide variety of pants, tops, blouses, and dresses also hung layered against the walls. Chatting with Melita, the shop clerk, Fernando watched as the two women wandered through the small store.

  "What about this?" Cori pulled out a white cotton dress and held it against her chest.

  Eyeing the selection, Kenzie could not help the small smile that snuck onto her face. Something about Cori was so engaging, so contagiously energetic, but now was not the time to be thinking about that. "It's nice, but I think we're looking for something a little more practical, and probably cheaper." Kenzie quickly picked out a shirt for herself, some underwear, a bra, and a pair of knock-off designer jeans.

  Fernando held out a dark woolen poncho to her. "You might need this, Senorita. The nights get cold."

  She did feel a slight chill in the air. "Thanks," she said quietly as she accepted it.

  Melita directed Kenzie toward a curtained area in the back of the store where she could change into her new clothes. Parting the shabby curtain, Kenzie stepped into what could only be referred to as a cubbyhole. She unzipped the coveralls, then peeled it off her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. Now standing naked in the changing room, Kenzie ran her hand over her side, gingerly fingering the fishing line sutures. The area around the wound was angry and red, but she was not too concerned. Even her hands were already improving, swollen and sore, but improving, and she was thankful for that.

  Kicking the coveralls to the side, Kenzie donned her new underwear and jeans, and instantly felt better. She was trying to manage the bra's hooks when a shadow fell across the curtain. She could tell by the outline that it was Cori.

  "Kenzie?"

  "Yeah?" she answered as she tried to get her bra fastened. Normally she could do it up behind her back or hook it in the front and swivel it around, but with her injured hands and painful shoulder, she couldn't do either. And it didn't help that her bra was so close to the stitches on her side.

  "Are you okay in there or do you need a hand?"

  Kenzie noted the movement of the curtain that separated them. A hand? Her thoughts flew to the evening before and Cori's gentle hands on her body. I'm not sure if I have the strength for that.

  "Kenzie? Are you all right?"

  The concern in Cori's voice made Kenzie swallow her pride and the thoughts that went with it. "Come in," she said. She brought her arms up to cover her chest as Cori stepped into the change room.

  Cori anxiously surveyed her medical handiwork. "Are you okay?"

  Kenzie did her best to ignore the wandering gaze and gestured at the bra cupping her breasts. "I can't get it done up. My fingers aren't that nimble at the moment, and with my shoulder, I can't get my arm around..." Her voice trailed off in frustration.

  Smiling shyly, Cori wiggled her index finger in the air. "Turn around. I'll get it."

  In the close proximity of the changing room, Cori almost felt like she was having a normal moment, just shopping in a boutique with a friend. Except this was not a shop in some mall. She examined the mottled bruises on Kenzie's back, and reminded herself that they were in a changing room in a shop in the middle of Mexico. Cori latched the bra into place.

  "There," she said as her hands inadvertently brushed against Kenzie's skin. It was warm to the touch, she noted, as she traced one of the long scratches that ran down Kenzie's back. Cori saw the goose bumps that rose in response to her touch. She turned Kenzie around, putting them face to face.

  Cori lifted her eyes and Kenzie leaned toward her. Studying the golden eyes, Cori wanted so much to reach out and gently brush back the hair that covered Kenzie's forehead. "You have gorgeous eyes," Cori finally said, breaking the silence.

  The tough girl loner image Kenzie had nurtured most of her life crumbled with the rise of the blush to her cheeks. She was not used to compliments, never mind the scrutiny and attention of a beautiful woman. "Thanks," she murmured, barely choking the word out.

  There was not enough space for two people inside the changing room, and Cori could feel the heat radiating from Kenzie's body. It made her uneasy, but only because of what she was feeling for the woman she barely knew, feelings that she had to get under control.

  "I ah...we should...I need to...urn, put some clothes on." Kenzie felt the need to maneuver away from the woman studying her every move. She leaned toward the chair where she had set her new honey-colored, sleeveless polo shirt. Kenzie selected the top and then straightened up, only to find herself face to face with Cori again.

  "Here, let me. You must still be hurting." Cori plucked the top from her grasp and gathered the bottom edge in her fingers. Kenzie held her arms in front of her and Cori awkwardly steered them through the holes. She tugged the shirt up over Kenzie's head and then down over her toned body, ultimately resting her hands on Kenzie's waist.

  The heated atmosphere of the tiny room was suddenly charged with a palpable tension. Once again, Cori felt a sexual attraction to Kenzie. However, this time Kenzie had her eyes closed, and for that, she was grateful. Cori shook her head, trying to remind herself of the reality of their present situation. They were on the run. This was not the time. When she looked back at Kenzie, she realized that the golden eyes were still closed.

  "Hey," Cori said softly. Eyelids opened and Cori saw a look of desire she was not expecting. "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah," Kenzie answered with a husky whisper, "For a moment there, I almost forgot." She stopped, and her gaze drifted away from Cori's face.

  "Forgot what?" Cori asked as she rested her hand on Kenzie's arm.

  The touch felt like a caress. Cori's soft fingers squeezed with gentle concern, and it was more compassion than anyone had shown her in a long time. The one-night stands Kenzie had in her past had not been about passion or emotions. The encounters had been about sex and nothing more, thanks in part to the military's archaic "don't ask, don't tell" policy. Kenzie reveled in the moment, knowing better than most that in a blink of an eye, it could all be gone.

  "Kenzie?"

  Kenzie's look of smoldering desire was all the invitation Cori needed and she leaned in, within inches of Kenzie's lips. She hesitated. As her eyes drifted downward toward Kenzie's parting lips, she could feel the tension in her rising. Her gaze rose to Kenzie's. Neither spoke, but Cori knew the wanting was there as she moved to close the distance between them. Their lips met cautiously, tenderly touching as if each was seeking permission from the other, and then, in a moment, the kiss ended. Pulling away, Cori averted her eyes and hurriedly stepped out of the changing room, leaving a stunned Kenzie behind.

  What was that? Her lips still parted, Kenzie watched as the thin curtain fell back into place, leaving her alone with her confused thoughts. Holy crap, Cori feels the same way I do. But this is not the time, and definitely not the place!

  Cobra parked his rental car on one of the lively streets of Santa Rosalia. His gaze skimmed over the colorful seaside town. She was close, so close he could almost taste the success. He scanned the many handcarts selling food and the lines of people around them, then checked the clip of his gun. Stepping from the car, he slipped the gun into his holster and then pulled on a lightweight jacket to cover it. He closed the door of the car and went in search of his target.

  Cori stood for only a moment outside of Kenzie's dressing room. She couldn't believe what she had just done. What was I thinking? A few days ago, I would have given anything to be as far away from this woman as I could get, and now... She reached for the new clothing that she had left in a pile.

  "They're paid for, Senorita," Fernando said as he tried on a hat. He looked at himself in a mirror, but decided the look did not suit him.

  "I...ah..." Cori cleared her throat and held up her new clothes to the young woman tending the store. "Do you have another place to change?"

  Melita pointed
to a stall on the other side of the shop and Cori fled. Inside her small change room, she dropped her clothes and pressed a hand to her mouth. I can't believe I just did that. Her pulse raced and her hands were shaking as she tried to calm herself. Just breathe. It's okay. At least she responded - kind of. Her thoughts jumbled, Cori quickly stripped off her borrowed clothing and donned her new khaki pants and white sleeveless cotton shirt. Once dressed, she felt better. There was a small mirror hanging from a wire and she turned it to look at her reflection, still conflicted about what she had done.

  "Smooth, Cori, falling for a trained killer," she said just under her breath as she looked at her mirror image. Turning first left and then right, she examined the bruises that Kenzie had made just days earlier. The swelling in her lip was gone, but the bruise around her cheek was still very colorful. Letting go of the hanging mirror, she caught sight of Kenzie's reflection just before the mirror spun back into place.

  The woman she had just kissed was leaning nonchalantly against the frame of the door to the change room. Her face was expressionless, but her eyes spoke volumes. "I'm sorry about that...the bruises," she said, her voice low and contrite. "I shouldn't have hit you."

  Confused by the feelings swirling in her body, unsure of what to say, Cori turned to face Kenzie. Without thinking, she pressed a hand against her own cheek, feeling the soreness of the bruise that lay beneath the skin.

  The look on Cori's face was enough to prompt Kenzie to take another step into the change room. She laid her hand over Cori's.

  "I m sorry."

  Cori took the last step separating them and studied Kenzie's eyes, searching for an answer to any of the questions her mind and body were asking.

  This time it was Kenzie who took the initiative. Kenzie's hand moving with an assurance she didn't feel, surprisingly gentle fingertips traced the outline of Cori's lips.

  Cori didn't pull away from the warm touch as it played over her lips. The swinging mirror behind her reflected the light into Kenzie's eyes, making the golden highlights sparkle brightly. The intensity of Kenzie's stare made Cori's heart flutter, causing her to surrender a small breath.