Classified Christmas Mission

by Lynette Eason

  “Yes.” His cheeks flushed. “We teased you a lot, didn’t we?”

  She shot him an incredulous look. “Did you really just ask me that?”

  “Yeah. Sorry.” He looked down and scuffed a toe against Lance’s hardwood floor. Amber knew he was remembering how insufferable they’d been to her. But as much as they’d aggravated her and teased her as a child, they’d always had her back and watched out for her, as well. Nobody messed with the Starke little sister.

  “Anyway,” she said, “there’s a little compartment in the wall. I don’t know who put it there, but I found it one afternoon while I was sulking. If you run your hand down the wall, you’ll find a little knothole. Stick your finger in it and pull.”

  He nodded. “All right, I’ll be back. You three stay put.”

  “Chess.” Amber’s gaze moved to Sam who still sat in front of the game. He looked up. “Number Two Mom. Chess. Please. Play now.”

  “All right.” She walked to the opposite side of the coffee table and lowered herself to the floor. Lance noticed her graceful control. She didn’t flop or use her hands to brace herself. She simply went down in one smooth move, tucking her legs up under her. He blinked and turned away. He didn’t need to notice her gracefulness. She was leaving.

  While she entertained Sam, Lance pulled Clay into the kitchen. “Your sister might be a trained spy, but she’s still susceptible to bullets. I don’t like the idea of her going off on her own trying to take care of Sam by herself. We need to keep her here and we need more protection around her. Although if you mention that to her, she’s going to protest. Frankly, I don’t want to be in the line of fire when that happens.”

  Clay nodded. “She’s definitely stubborn and hardheaded. We’ll have to think of a way to keep her here without making it obvious that’s what we’re doing. You know what I mean?”

  “Can you delay getting those items she needs from your parents’ barn?”

  “I can.”

  Lance rubbed a hand down his cheek. “I think we’re going to have to go to the top on this one. The man after her is Sam’s father. His name is Yousef Pirhadi.”

  “Yeah, that’s what Amber said.”

  “The people doing his dirty work are simply hired hands. Take care of them and more will just take their place. It sounds like he has quite the empire with a home in California and Ibirizstan. Amber and Sam won’t be safe until Pirhadi is either dead or in prison.”

  “Then let’s make that happen. In the meantime, I’ll put out a request for help until we can catch the people after her and Sam. I’ve got coverage for my parents’ house and the ranch, but if Pirhadi’s coming after them, then we’re going to need a few more guns on our side.”

  “Make what happen?” Amber asked. “What do you mean we’re going to need a few more guns on our side? There is no our side.”

  “Keeping you and Sam safe is top priority,” Clay said. Lance noticed how he ignored her insistence that she was going to handle this alone. “We’re going to do whatever it takes to see that through.”

  “Right. Which is what I’m trying to do. Now if you’ll go get that stuff, we’ll be able to leave. The sooner we can leave, the sooner everyone around here will be safe.”

  Clay stepped forward and hugged Amber. “I love you, sis.”

  Amber didn’t move for several seconds then she hugged him back. She cleared her throat and pulled out of his embrace. “I love you, too, Clay. Now go, please?”

  “Yeah.” He paused yet again.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Glad you’ll be home for Christmas this year.”

  Amber’s jaw dropped. Clay laughed in spite of the seriousness of the situation. Lance smothered a chuckle and Amber must have heard it because she glared at him. Clay walked out the door and she turned that laser stare on him. “What were you two plotting?”

  Lance put on his best innocent face. He wouldn’t lie to her, but he’d do his best to dance around telling her his and Clay’s conversation. “We want you safe, Amber. That’s all.”

  She eyed him like she wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth or not then sighed. “Sure. Since you’re not going to share info, what do you have to eat around here?”

  * * *

  Amber busied herself making a snack from crackers and peanut butter. The mindless action kept her from screaming. But the busier she stayed, the faster the time would go. But it also gave her time to think. Glad you’ll be home for Christmas this year, Clay had said.

  A pang hit her. No, she wouldn’t be home for Christmas this year either. She couldn’t celebrate with her family because that might get them killed. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes. She ignored them and sucked in a steadying breath. Christmas music played softly in the background. Lance had tuned on a radio then settled himself in front of the chess game. He and Sam were battling it out with Lance muttering under his breath about genius kids.

  In spite of her sadness over the sacrifices she’d had to make due to her job, she couldn’t help the small smile that curved her lips. If it hadn’t been for the job, she wouldn’t have Sam. Lance seemed drawn to the child, fascinated by him, protective of him. It warmed her. She heard Sam talking and stepped to the door to listen. “One thirteen dark. Number One Dad. Afghanistan, Akrotiri, Albania. One two three.”

  She stilled and waited to see if he would say anything else. Lance had paused, hand hovering over the pawn he’d planned to move. His gaze flicked to hers then back to Sam who rocked back and forth, his eyes still on the game. Amber grabbed the plate of crackers and peanut butter and carried them into the den. She set them on the table next to the chess game and handed Sam one. He took a bite. “Say it again, Sam.”

  “Your move,” he said. “Your move, Lance.”

  Lance glanced at her then complied. He moved the pawn forward one square.

  Sam finished the cracker. “One thirteen dark. Number One Dad. Afghanistan, Akrotiri, Albania. One two three.”

  Amber grabbed her phone and opened the notes app. She typed in what he’d said. Then looked at it. What could it mean? She lowered herself on the couch beside Lance. His cologne tickled her nose and she breathed deep. She liked it. She liked everything about Lance. And that was a problem. A distraction. She focused on the note in front of her. “It’s like a code,” she said. “He has something he wants to tell me and this is how he knows to do it. Now I’ve just got to figure out what it means.”

  “We,” Lance said.

  “What?”

  “We. We’ve got to figure out what it means.”

  She held his gaze for a moment. “Right. We.” She offered him a small smile and tried not to admit how good it felt to know she wasn’t alone. Or how scared she was that letting him help was going to get him killed. Again, she yanked her thoughts back on track. She couldn’t think of the possibility of Lance dying because of her. “Afghanistan, Akrotiri, Albania are all countries. Afghanistan is in the Middle East, Akrotiri is in Greece. Albania is right next to Greece, in Europe.” She bit her lip and shook her head. “I’m not seeing a connection other than they’re all places that start with the letter A.” She looked up to see Sam move his knight up two and over one to block Lance’s pawn from being able to take his rook.

  Lance frowned. “This little guy’s mind is amazing,” he said softly.

  “Amazing,” Sam said. “Yes. I am.”

  Amber smiled and reached out to stroke Sam’s hair. His silky strands weren’t so silky anymore. “He needs a bath.”

  Lance looked up. “A little dirt won’t hurt him.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re of the ‘germs are good for the immune system’ mentality?”

  He shrugged. “Worked for my mother.”

  “Bath,” Sam said and stood. “I stink.”

  Amber choked on a laugh. Lance c
ouldn’t smother his. “Will you let me show you where to bathe?” Lance asked him. Sam didn’t answer. He just walked out of the room and down the hall. Lance looked at Amber. “Was that a yes?”

  She shrugged. “Could have been a no, but you’re welcome to give it a try.”

  Lance nodded and hurried to catch up with Sam. Amber waited and didn’t hear Sam protesting Lance’s help so she let herself study the couch. She wanted to take the moment to collapse on it. Instead, she pressed a hand against the comforting weight of her weapon and slipped up to the nearest window. She parted the blinds and looked out. Sunshine on the white landscape made for a brightness that caused her to squint.

  Nothing moved in the distance. There were no new prints in the snow on this side of the house. She slipped into the living room and sidled up to the window to check out the front. Silence. White. Nothing that should cause the hair on her arms to stand up. Was it too quiet? Too calm? Like she was smack-dab in the eye of the storm?

  She drew in a breath and rubbed her head. Clay should be back soon with the items. She needed to be ready to bolt. The problem was, she needed a car. No. She needed Lance to drive her and Sam to the nearest bus station. She started mentally mapping the route she’d take, where she’d purchase a car using her fake ID and whether she and Sam should catch a flight at an airport or she should charter a plane. She kept her gaze on the area outside the window as she worked out the details in her mind. She wasn’t aware of time passing until she heard footsteps behind her.

  “Sam’s in the bed.”

  “Already?”

  “He’s not sleeping. I found a documentary on chess on television and he’s engrossed. Is that all right?”

  “Sure,” she said before turning. When she faced him, she found Lance watching her with an odd expression. “What is it?”

  His face cleared and he shook his head. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

  “About?”

  “You’re just so different.”

  “I think we’ve already had this conversation.”

  “True. I’m just having trouble processing it, I guess.” He sank onto the sofa and reset the chess game.

  She held his gaze. “You’ve changed, as well. You’ve been through a lot.”

  He shrugged. “I suppose.”

  She sighed and moved to sit next to him on the couch. “I used to have the biggest crush on you, you know.”

  He blinked. “What? When?”

  “When I was in elementary school all the way up to high school. And then you married Krissy.”

  Bitterness flashed briefly in his eyes. “Yes. And we all know what a mistake that turned out to be.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I am, too. In the beginning, she was different—well, sort of. She was always a little selfish, but who isn’t? Don’t we all want what we want?”

  Yes. She knew she did.

  “Anyway, the first couple of years weren’t bad. I can’t say they were great, but I knew marriage was going to be an adjustment so I figured we’d hit our stride eventually.” He shook his head. “She really changed when her mother got sick.”

  “Changed how?”

  “Her mother had some money. Not a lot, but enough that she could spoil Krissy. But when she got sick, instead of buying Krissy whatever she wanted, the money had to go to medical bills. That didn’t sit with Krissy and she fumed about it, even while she loved her mother and hated to see her suffering like she was.”

  “Sounds like Krissy was very conflicted inside.”

  “Very. But instead of talking about it and letting people help her, she turned inward and pushed everyone who cared about her away. Except for her drug supplier. She ran into an old high school friend one night while she was on a girls’ night out kind of thing. She told him her story of woe and he offered to help her forget. The rest is history.”

  Amber grimaced. “I wish it had turned out different for you.”

  “I do, too. Some days I can’t believe she’s gone. Other days, it’s like she was never in my life.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I just knew I had to forgive her.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Doesn’t mean I’ll jump into marriage again, but I had to let go of the bitterness and the anger I had toward her. It was slowly killing me.”

  “How did you do that?” she whispered.

  “It didn’t happen overnight, but God—and your family—helped me. A lot.”

  “Oh.” She paused and fiddled with the hem of her shirt then looked up at him. “I’m not real happy with God right now.”

  He nodded. Her statement didn’t seem to faze him. “I understand that feeling for sure.” He studied her. “You want to talk about it?”

  “Not really.”

  “Are you thinking of doing something to change the way you feel about Him?”

  “Yes. I’m thinking about it,” she said softly. “I believe in Him. I believe He’s all powerful. I believe He’s in control. So when things are out of control, it shakes that belief, that faith. All the things I’ve seen—and done—in the past few years...” She shook her head. “I couldn’t do what I do without that belief in God, but this latest thing? Nadia’s death, Pirhadi’s evil? His family’s evil. Even his brother, Deon, is involved. They’re five years apart and it’s like they’re twins on the inside. Double the evil. It’s rocked me.” And, as much as she might want to deny it, it had rocked her faith.

  “It feels like a betrayal?”

  She froze. She really hadn’t wanted to talk about it, but now that she was, it felt good to get her feelings out in the open. “Yes. And then I feel like I’m betraying God because that’s how I feel.”

  “He’s a big God. He can handle it.” He gave her a wry smile. “I’m just coming to understand that in a very real way. I’m still working on my spiritual self.”

  She gave him a soft smile. “He’s a big God,” she repeated. “Sounds like something my mother would say.”

  “Probably where I heard it.” He frowned. “My parents are good people, but not much on God and going to church. They have a passing acquaintance with Him, I suppose is a good way to describe it. I hope and pray that changes one day.”

  “Me, too.”

  “I try to talk to them when I see them. And when we Skype, I try to tell them what God’s doing in my life, but I don’t get a whole lot of response about it.”

  She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, I am, too.” He smiled at her and kept his fingers wrapped around hers. “But I’m not giving up on them.”

  “Good.”

  “So, anyway, you really need to thank God instead of being mad at Him.”

  She gave a little laugh then lifted a brow. “For what?”

  “For putting me in your path when you needed rescuing.”

  “I didn’t need rescuing,” she huffed. “I could have handled it.”

  “Okay, if you say so.” The amused doubt in his voice made her grimace.

  “All right, I have to say, it turned out to be a good thing you were there when you were. Good for Sam and me anyway. Not so sure it’s a good thing for you.”

  “Hmm. Time will tell.” They fell silent then he tilted his head. “So you had a crush on me, huh?”

  She felt heat invade her cheeks and gave a slight laugh even while she pulled away from him, stood and checked the windows one more time. “Yes. I got over it.” Liar. She winced and told herself to hush. She had gotten over it. Sort of. He’d gotten married and that had been that. She refused to dwell on someone else’s husband. And truthfully, when she was working and moving from place to place, she’d been able to put him out of her mind for the most part.

  And then Krissy had died and while she’d felt awful for Lance and the circ
umstances around her arrest and eventual death, it allowed her more freedom to think about him. The few times she’d managed to come home, she’d found herself thinking about him constantly, wondering how he was doing, wishing she could see him—and then wishing she could be with him and—

  And now look at them. She was desperate to get away from him, from Wrangler’s Corner. Desperate and sad. She wanted to stay. The realization hit her hard and she let out a low gasp.

  He moved to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder while he looked out the window. “You see something?”

  Amber went still, his touch sending zings through her. She looked back and up. His furrowed brow made her want to smooth it. He looked down, catching her by surprise. When he did, it brought his lips within millimeters of hers. His eyes widened, dropped to her lips then back to her eyes.

  Then back to her lips.

  Her mind spun with options. Lift up on her tiptoes and close the gap—or run?

  NINE

  Lance couldn’t decide whether to lean down and kiss her—or pull back and pretend he wasn’t interested in doing so.

  At the last second, he simply ran a hand down her soft cheek and put some distance between them. He caught the flash of disappointment in her eyes. Then something else. Maybe relief. Which was okay. He felt the same way. She was vulnerable right now. Scared, determined, overwhelmed with being thrown into the role of mother, focused on keeping Sam safe. Some bad things, some good things.

  But Lance didn’t need to make himself a distraction. And besides, while he might be attracted to her and want to kiss her, he wasn’t interested in anything more. At least that’s what he tried to tell himself.

  And Amber was a commitment-with-a-white-dress kind of girl.

  She blinked at him for a moment, studying his features, her own face closed and unreadable. Then she offered him a small smile and turned back to the window.

  Her shoulders stiffened.

  “What?” he asked.

  “There are new tracks in the snow.”

  “Could be Trent’s.”