I'll Take Forever Kobo

by Barbara McMahon

Jenny's gentle nature winced at the thought of bullets penetrating Kyle's flesh, going into the bone and sinew of the man. The picture was too distressing to envisage. She shook her head.

  Focus on dinner.

  'Do you always attack food when you're preparing it? You have every time I've seen you cook.'

  Jenny whirled around. Kyle stood in the doorway, leaning against the jamb. He looked better than at her last glimpse; at least his face had some color in it.

  'Only when I'm fixing a meal for you! I suppose you think all this is a huge joke. Fool the stupid country girl!'

  'No.' He moved to the table, sat down and looked up at her, his face serious. 'I couldn't tell you last winter who I was, I didn't know who you were. Everyone was suspect. How was I to know if you were in on it, too?'

  'Me?'

  'I told you then, I got turned around in the storm. Last time I go anywhere without double-checking the weather. We've had you checked out since. You're clean. At least,' he qualified, 'we think you are.'

  'Oh, thanks a lot.' She scooped up pork chops, green beans and the potatoes she’d nuked in the microwave and placed his plate before him.

  'When we decided to focus on this location, I recommended your place to Brownley as a possible safe house. We checked you out before he approached you.'

  'Never telling me who he was sending.'

  Kyle smiled down at his plate. 'I did hope during the last few days that you wouldn't ask for more information. I wanted to see your face when you saw it was me.'

  'I hope you were suitably rewarded.' She slammed a glass of milk down in front of him.

  ‘What's that?'

  'Milk. Invalids get milk.' Her tone indicated she was longing for an argument.

  'Thank you,' he said meekly.

  'Once you knew I was okay as you say, you could have filled me in,' she said as she sat with her own meal and began to eat.

  He shrugged. 'Didn't see the need at the time. Later, as I said, you didn't ask. I was just waiting.'

  They ate in silence for a moment. Jenny leaned over to cut his pork chop when she saw him struggling with one hand.

  'And the kiss?' she couldn't resist asking, though she could feel the heat steal into her cheeks.

  He grinned. 'A perk of the job.'

  Jenny kept her eyes on her food, slowly cutting her own chop. Only a perk of the job! She would not show her disappointment. Let that be a lesson to you, my girl, she said silently. This man’s a professional, concerned with the job at hand, so don't expect anything from him and you won't be disappointed.

  Jenny again broke the silence. 'You won't get away with it.'

  'With what?'

  'The deception. If Nate Fisher and Jim Sellers were after you last February, you can't avoid seeing them if you stay around here. What's their connection?' She looked up in awareness. ‘They’re suspects?’

  'I don't think they got a good enough look at me to recognize me. We can find out easily enough. Have them over to meet me. If they recognize me, they'll likely give some sort of sign. If so, we'll have to fall back to another plan. If they don't, we’ll proceed with this one.'

  'How badly injured are you?'

  'Bad enough to keep me from doing anything for another couple of weeks. Brownley said I could get started here rather than convalesce at home. I’ll be able to meet people, get my background established, get people used to me. You're going to be invaluable for this.'

  ‘I have a hard time believing any of the people in town are involved.’

  ‘You’d be surprised by some of the people who don’t mind making money off drugs.’

  He surprised her when dinner was over by offering to help with the dishes. Jenny looked at him and shook her head. He still looked pale and tired. How much help could a one-armed man be?

  'I can manage. Why don't you go sit under the tree, by the side of the house? I have a chair there. I'll bring another one out and the coffee, after I finish these.'

  'Fine.'

  She was glad of the few minutes to herself. All during dinner she’d been acutely aware of Kyle. His good looks hadn’t diminished. The aura of invincibility had, however. She hoped he’d recover quickly, she didn’t like seeing like this. Helping him cut his pork chop had obviously rankled with him. He liked being the one in charge. She smiled, might be good for him to learn he wasn’t invincible and always the one in charge.

  When Jenny joined him half an hour later, he had turned the chair to face the west to better see the sunset. Shasta was lounging nearby in the growing shadows of early evening.

  'I never did thank you for my dog,' she said, handing him a mug of coffee. 'I love him, he's such a good friend and I feel much safer with him here. Though I will say that at the time I thought you had some nerve, sending me a watch-dog!'

  Kyle smiled and glanced over to Shasta. 'I'm glad you like him. I thought a lot about your being alone here.' Glancing back to Jenny, he gave a wicked grin. 'And I know how easy it was for someone to break in.'

  She ignored the comment. 'What am I to tell people about you? I've dropped small hints during the last few weeks, but nothing concrete. I didn't have a complete story, didn't have the particulars people like to know. If you were really Johnny's cousin, I'd have known lots more about you.' Like, was he married? She wanted to ask. She ought to know if Johnny's cousin was married, though why did it matter?

  He frowned. 'I thought Brownley had gone over the story with you.'

  'First you were a writer, now a college professor convalescing from a motorcycle accident. Where are you supposed to live, where do you teach, what do you teach? You don’t look like any professors I had in college. There are a lot of details I don't know, and people will ask. Our stories ought to match.'

  'They definitely should. Anyone around here attend San Francisco State University?'

  Jenny thought a moment, trying to remember where each of the kids she’d grown up with had gone. It didn't ring a bell. She shook her head. 'I don't think so. But I don’t know where every kid goes to college.'

  'Fine. I teach Etruscan History at San Francisco State.'

  Her eyes widened. 'What do you know about Etruscan history?'

  'I don't know an Etruscan from a Phoenician, but I don't think anyone else will, either. I want an obscure subject, so I don't get quizzed. If I do, whatever I make up will pass, if no one else knows about it.'

  'Stay clear of Mrs. Peabody. She's the town librarian and has the most amazing store of trivia ever. If anyone here knows anything about something obscure, it's her.'

  'Mrs. Peabody. Got it.'

  'You were planning to go to Europe this summer, but got into an accident, so you're visiting with your cousin's widow until you're better. That sure sounds lame.'

  'Hey, it was a big disappointment, not going to Europe, but this had advantages. I like the mountains, I've never been here before, and can report back to the rest of the family on how Johnny's widow’s doing.'

  Jenny was sidetracked. Was that how people saw her, as Johnny's widow? She had been happy in being his wife. But she was young and would like to go on and have a life for herself. She didn't want people to always associate her as Johnny's widow. She was Jenny Warwick, a person in her own right. Free and able to do as she pleased, not restricted and tidily classified away as someone's widow. That sounded depressing.

  ‘Lucky for you his mom moved away, or you’d have to stay with her,’ she said.

  ‘So fill me in on your husband’s family, those you know and those you’ve heard about. I don’t want to be caught off guard if someone asks about cousin Henry or something. The more I know, the more I can fit into the role.’

  She'd tilted her head as she watched him talk, hearing his voice, mesmerized by the planes and angles of his face. She had felt a long dormant tingling within her, the start of a longing to reach out and lightly draw her fingertips along the hard, firm line of his jaw. An awareness of him as a man and herself as a woman.

  Her eyes had widened
as she'd realized what she was thinking. Clenching her fist, she drew a deep breath and looked away.

  Kyle had stopped in mid-sentence and peered at her closely. 'Did you hear what I said?'

  'Yes,' she had nodded, smiling a little and looking back. She would discipline her thoughts to the project.

  'Are you from California?' she'd asked.

  His face lost all expression, and it was a long moment before he replied, 'I'm from San Francisco State University, remember? In San Francisco. I'm a cousin of Johnny's. Weren't all his cousins born in California?'

  This was to be strictly business, and Jenny felt oddly disappointed.

  'What exactly are you looking for?' she asked.

  'You don't need to be concerned with that. You're involvement is only to provide me with a cover. I'll do the rest.'

  'How can I help if I don't know what's going on?'

  'You are helping, just by letting me stay. Keep out of the rest.'

  Jenny frowned at his response. She’d thought she would play a little more active role.

  'Have you been doing this for a long time?' She'd thought he was in his early thirties. Had he always been in law enforcement?

  'Long enough to know what I’m doing.'

  Jenny had glanced over at him again, and her heart had caught in her throat. He lay back against the chair, skin pale, eyes shut. She had longed again to reach out to him, to comfort him, her fingers aching to touch him. She couldn't remember ever having felt as strongly as this before. What was it about Kyle Martin?

  ‘Tell me the bare minimum,’ he said softly.

  Jenny complied by telling him about Johnny and their knowing each other all their lives. How his mother and hers had been best friends. Then moving on to others who knew the family, and where different members of the Warwick clan now lived.

  Kyle watched her as she talked. She spoke lovingly of her husband. Obviously she was still in love with the man. The background check had turned up bare facts. John Warwick had died in a multiple car pileup on the interstate during a dust storm. Seven people had died in that accident. His young wife had not been with him.

  Jenny had grown up in Palmer, attended the university in Berkeley and majored in accounting and business. He wondered what made her want to stay in this small town when she could have obtained a job anywhere.

  Still, Palmer and vicinity had a lot going for it with the slower lifestyle, beauty of the Sierra, close to skiing and not too far from Lake Tahoe for both summer and winter sports.

  He liked the way her eyes glowed when she remembered something special to tell him. He hated seeing the sadness when she spoke of her late husband. He hoped he could get in and out quickly and not depend too much on her giving him the cover he needed. He’d assessed the danger and determined it was minimal. No one would suspect her of duplicity. He hoped if push came to shove, she’d be able to carry off the deception.

  As it grew dark, he looked up at the sky. The stars were beginning to show. Later tonight they’d saturate the sky. The clearing allowed him to see a large swath before trees blocked the view.

  ‘Do you have any suspects?’ she asked.

  He looked at her.

  ‘Like Nate and Jim?’

  ‘Who?’ He feigned ignorance.

  ‘Remember Nate, the man who came to my house that night. There was no poker game. They were hunting you. Are they who you suspect?’

  He started to lie, but couldn’t. It was an obvious assumption.

  ‘Those two among others. We don’t think Nate’s smart enough to run the show. Who’re his friends?’

  ‘Jim for one. He and Johnny hung out when we were all in high school, but after we were married, Johnny stopped seeing him much. Said he was too juvenile for him. So Jim started hanging out with Nate. Neither’s ever married, so they are still in that single guy mode.’

  Kyle looked at her. ‘What’s a single guy mode?’

  ‘You know, hook up until he’s bored, move on to the next conquest. No commitment.’

  Is that how she’d see him? He was thirty five years old and never married. Except to the job. It wouldn’t be fair to a wife and family to have him disappear for weeks at a time if the job called for it. He didn’t want her to think he was commitment shy–just dedicated to his job.

  Before he could argue the point, she stood. ‘I’m going in. Shasta likes to get up early and so do I. Even if I want to sleep in, he rarely lets me.’

  Kyle rose as well. Despite his nap, he was tired. The doctors had told him to take it easy. But it had been three weeks. He’d hoped to be back in shape by now.

  ‘Thanks for agreeing to help,’ he said as they walked to the back door.

  ‘I hope I’m not making a mistake.’

  ‘Why would you?’

  ‘I can’t help thinking if someone I know is doing this, what would the repercussions be when it’s all over?’

  ‘I’d think you’d get a medal or something.’

  She laughed. ‘I doubt that. I just hope you’re wrong and it’s someone from another area that I’ve never even heard of.’

  ‘We’ll see. Good night, Jenny.’

  ***

  As she prepared for bed that night, Jenny decided her opinion of Mr. Brownley's plan wasn't as high as it had been. It was one thing to pretend an agent was more feeble than was true; another matter entirely to send someone who was so incapacitated that a walk up the stairs was exhausting.

  Crawling between her sheets, she thought back to the first night Kyle had spent beneath her roof. He’d be no match for her in his present state, and Jenny was suddenly overwhelmed with compassion for him. His temporary weakness must be frustrating for him.

  She considered all she’d learn this evening. It wasn't fair that he knew all about her, and she knew nothing about him.

  Well, she reasoned, he'd be here for a while; she could learn as much as she could during that time. She’d given up expecting to see him again, and here he was, staying with her indefinitely. It was now up to her to find out what she wanted to know.

  ***

  Jenny was in her den the next morning, doing the accounts for a local attorney when she heard his tread on the stairs. She paused and looked up, gazing out of the window, her attention focused on his step. He passed by the open door without seeing her and went to the kitchen. She returned to her accounts, only to be interrupted when Kyle came back.

  'Do I get breakfast?' he asked, pausing at the door.

  Jenny swiveled in her chair. 'Sure, at a reasonable time. It's after ten, am I to cook all day?' She rose, glad to see he had a little more color in his face today.

  'Sorry, what time is good for you?'

  She went back to the kitchen, sorry for snapping at him, yet not ready to let him know that. Normally even-tempered, she didn't know why she was so on edge around him. Or maybe she did–it was purely physical.

  Kyle followed and sat at the big farm table that sat to the side of the sunny kitchen.

  'I usually eat around seven. If that's too early, let me know what you want and I'll fix it and leave it in the oven to be heated.'

  'No. Seven's fine,' he said meekly.

  Jenny glanced sharply at him, but his face was open, innocent. She didn’t trust his look for an instant.

  'Lunch, if I'm home, is usually sandwiches and fruit shortly after midday. I like to eat dinner around seven in the evening. Unless I go out.'

  'Out where?' His voice was sharper, his eyes narrowed a little.

  'Visiting, out with friends.' She shrugged as she poured the beaten eggs into the pan. 'Just out. I'll let you know in advance so you can plan for your own meals.' She turned to him. 'You do know how to cook, I take it?'

  ‘Sure.'

  'Do you live alone when not on a case?' she asked casually as the eggs cooked.

  'I have an apartment near the campus; sometimes I sublet out one room to a student during the school year.'

  Jenny glanced around, a frown on her face. 'I meant really.'r />
  'Jenny, one way never to make a mistake is to live the role you're playing. I'm a professor at San Francisco State and I'll stick with that cover. Easier for you to know only what the story is. No chance to mess up.'

  But I want to know about the real you, she thought. I'm not interested in cover stories, but the real deal. Sighing quietly, she dished up his breakfast and put it before him, resigned to the fiction they were creating.

  While Kyle ate, Jenny sat with him and had another cup of coffee. When the first hunger pangs had been satisfied, he spoke. 'As soon as I'm a little more fit, I want to start going out, meeting people. You'll know best how to take me around with the least amount of comment or curiosity on the part of your neighbors.'

  'There's bound to be some talk; this is a small town and you're news,' she said slowly.

  'Let's start with my accompanying you when you go into town. You must go in fairly often.'

  'A couple or three times a week.'

  'Fine. Introduce me to people you see there. Then if you're invited to a party or something, ask if you can bring me along. And when you have time, drive me around, pointing out landmarks, favorite spots with those who live here.'

  Jenny nodded. 'People will be dying to see you, of course.'

  'Why?'

  'Because everyone knew Johnny, and they know many of his cousins. They'll be interested in meeting another.'

  'Then you had better give me more of the genealogy of the Warwick family, so I don't blow it. Once I'm feeling more fit, I want to start scoping out the area so I can get my bearings. Maybe we can hike or take the dog on long walks or whatever seems appropriate.'

  'I hike a lot, so that would probably cause the least amount of comment.'

  'Where do you go?'

  'Lots of places. I like to hike down near the water, but there are other hills and trails that are appealing. Since I got Shasta, I've ventured further afield.'

  'Ever see marijuana growing?'

  'I told your Mr. Brownley, I don't know what it looks like. I may have done so or may not.'

  'I'll see we get some samples so you can look for it on your hikes. If you see anything suspicious, leave immediately. Don’t try to find out more. Tell me and I’ll confirm if it’s a pot field.'