by Diana Layne
She had too much to lose. And, this time, this man wouldn’t rob her of the new life she’d created.
“Is eating, or showering in your plan since we’re going to have to wait until dark to break in?”
Tasha glanced at her and grinned. “Yes, you are looking rather wilted. And I imagine after all that sex, you’re feeling rather icky.”
While Tasha looked alert and perky even, every golden hair in place, her complexion glowing peaches and cream, even after she’d been up all the night before as well as driving so many miles today.
“What pills you popping?” MJ asked.
“Nothing more than caffeine pills and vitamins.”
“How long have you been tracking these guys?”
“Long enough.”
Had to be at least as long as she’d had Angel, six months or more. “You must be feeling crappy.” Though the woman didn’t show it on outward appearances. Tasha had always managed to look stunningly beautiful. Hard for a gangly younger girl to ever compare.
“No more than usual when I’m on a job,” Tasha denied. “No, change that. I’m feeling pretty good.”
Tasha turned the car into a hotel parking lot. Hurray for small favors.
“Wait, here,” Tasha instructed. Normally MJ might bristle at the high-handed tone, but she was too overwhelmed.
When the car door shut, the dog, who’d been asleep by MJ’s feet, woke up and started whining. She sighed. He no doubt needed a potty break as much as she did.
She spied a patch of grass over by the street. “C’mon, dog.” She found a leash and took the little rat disguised as a dog outside. He lifted his leg at every stop. “Just like a man, have to piss on everything,” she scolded.
When Tasha came out of the office, MJ scooped up the dog and headed for the car.
“See, Cyanide grows on you.”
“He had to pee.”
“He could’ve waited a few minutes.”
MJ got into the car, handed the dog across the seat. “Now you tell me.”
Tasha took Cyanide and patted his head. The little dog bathed her hand with his tongue. “You think he’s cute, admit it.”
MJ raised her eyebrows. “Why’d you name him after poison?”
Tasha started the car, put it in gear. “Because he’s such a little killer dog.”
MJ eyed the dog. He had been rather ferocious but he’d turned sweet fast enough. “He’s nothing but all bark.”
Tasha covered his big butterfly ears. “Shh, don’t tell him that, you’ll hurt his feelings.”
With MJ shaking her head, Tasha drove around the side of the hotel and pulled into a parking place.
In the room, MJ collapsed on the bed closest to the door. Odd she seemed totally drained of energy. She’d been sitting idle for days; she should have energy to spare. The rubberband emotions no doubt played a part in sapping her strength.
She didn’t want to believe she had reason to be here. She didn’t want to believe any of it was true.
It would make everything in her life ruled by circumstances beyond her control. Beyond fate even. Controlled by nothing more than men with a ruthless agenda.
At this moment, MJ wanted to pretend nothing had happened and to go back home to her small town, work at her routine small town job, take care of her daughter. But that wasn’t happening. To go back to that life, she had to be here.
And what about Ben?
Ben, a pleasant diversion, with no place in the life she planned.
The little dog tried to jump on the bed with her. She lifted her head, stared at it. “Pathetic.”
“How’s that pathetic?”
“He’s too small to jump on the bed.”
“Don’t hurt his feelings. He likes you.”
MJ lifted a brow. “It’s hard for me to picture you taking in an ugly little stray like this.”
Tasha lifted the dog on the bed beside MJ. “He and I have a special bond. We’ve both dealt with a lot of trash.”
MJ unfortunately understood the trash reference, at least for Tasha. Dealing in trash went with the business.
Cy started licking MJ’s face. “Eww, stop it, especially after that trash comment.” She held the dog away from her face. “Get him off.”
Tasha laughed, settled him back into her arms. “She prefers Ben’s licks, Cy.”
MJ narrowed her eyes. “That comment was totally unnecessary.”
“Only bothers you because it’s true.” Tasha nuzzled her face into the dog’s furry neck. “Cy’s a beauty on the inside. The nicest guy I’ve ever been with. He stays where I put him, doesn’t speak while I’m talking, and he’s house-trained. Things beyond most men’s capabilities.”
“I see your point. Why don’t you take Mr. Perfect and go play at the park. Let me take a shower and a nap.”
Tasha shook her head and went to the door. “You’re getting old.”
“Yes, way too old for this."
Tasha, though older, showed no signs of age making her tired. She stopped at the door and stared at MJ with a mixed look of puzzlement and . . . was that regret? “Don’t you want revenge for what they did to us?”
“Revenge?” The whole idea made MJ want to sink into the mattress, dissolve away. “Maybe once the shock wears off. I’m sure then there will be a lot of anger as well. But revenge won’t bring back our parents or change our lives in any way.”
“So these slimeballs should get away without punishment? Hasn’t that been what we’ve been about all these years? Bringing the bad guys to justice? Isn’t that what our fathers were about? Justice where there is none. Taking care of people who can’t take care of themselves. We’ve had to step outside the normal boundaries more than once.”
Logically MJ understood what drove Tasha, and yet, MJ wasn’t sure she wanted to cross the line anymore. “I like my life now. I’ve worked hard to get to where I’m content. If not for them, I wouldn’t be where I am, I wouldn’t have Angelina.”
“You really like your life? Are you really going to be grateful to them for putting us here? Your parents should have lived to be grandparents to your daughter. Or perhaps to children you could have born yourself. Are you content, or are you just a coward?”
Tasha didn’t wait for an answer, but slammed the door behind her.
Well, she certainly hadn’t hesitated to twist the screws. MJ’s body stiffened at the harsh words hanging in the air, invisible and yet still a trap for the unsuspecting. Maybe it was true, she was a coward now. Or maybe she was just too damn tired and worn out to grasp how different her life might have been. And what was the use to mourn the loss for something that couldn’t be changed?
MJ rolled off to the bed and trudged to the shower.
* * *
The smell of food woke her up. Tasha sat on the other bed, feeding the little dog his own hamburger.
She didn’t look up, didn’t acknowledge she knew MJ was awake. She just said, “He doesn’t like dog food.”
“I guess not.”
“Spent too much time eating out of a trash can.”
At that moment, MJ felt sorry for the woman. A woman who had shared the same house for years, and yet MJ knew very little about Tasha.
Watching the runt dog eat from an obviously doting Tasha’s hand, for the first time MJ felt a connection. Tasha was as lonely and miserable as MJ had been. The kind of loneliness of knowing you had no one to turn to, no one to talk to, and no one to hold onto through the night.
MJ had been like that. And for now she had Angel. Tasha had her dog. But eventually Angel would grow up, move on, start her own life. The dog would die.
And suddenly the looming future seemed not as hopeful.
“Your food’s in the sack.” Tasha nodded toward the night table between the beds.
“Thanks.”
MJ, still wrapped in the small bathroom towel, pulled her food out of the paper bag as Tasha gave the dog the last bite of his burger and brushed her hands off.
“I’m go
ing to shower then nap. We’ll head back to the nurses’ office after midnight.”
While Tasha and the dog slept, MJ dressed and then sat down at the small table to more thoroughly review the information in Tasha’s file. No doubt about it, there had to be another player. Was it Jeff? Or someone over him? Someone in the CIA who had influence with Vista?
And would the answer make any difference?
At twelve-thirty, MJ woke Tasha. Cy growled at being disturbed but settled back down to sleep once Tasha got out of bed. They pulled on their black clothes, with thin black gloves and black caps to cover their hair.
Approaching one a.m., Tasha pulled into a parking lot of a gift store that backed up to the nurses’ office. A four foot fence separated the backs of the two properties. Hardly worthy enough to be called a fence, MJ thought, as she jumped over and quickly crossed to the office, so fast that if a person blinked, they would have missed them.
Adrenaline shot through MJ’s veins in short spurts. She was having a hard time processing she was back in the job, and it’d been so long. She didn’t do this anymore. Years had passed since her last job, and that had been oh, so successful, hadn’t it?
There were a hundred ways she could screw up this job. And with what she was doing now being unsanctioned, she didn’t want to go to jail for three to five for a simple B&E.
“Come on,” Tasha whispered, “get the camera.”
The words brought MJ back to focus. Having earlier noted the one security camera, they stayed out of range, until MJ, using a telescoping rod, dropped a black cloth over the camera, covering the lens. Crude, but effective.
MJ’s skills being too rusty to be any use in a fast B&E, she stood guard while Tasha pulled her tools out of a black bag. In less than a minute, she had the door open, stepped inside and turned her attention to deactivating the alarm.
More seconds ticked by until finally she said, “Okay, we’re in. It’s an old system, pretty easy.”
“Kind of stupid considering the way kids are stealing drugs these days.” MJ lifted the black duffle bag and followed. She eased the door shut before she pulled out her penlight.
“I’m sure we’ll be running into at least a locked cabinet or two,” Tasha said, turning on her light as well, swinging it in an arc around the office.
“What are we looking for?”
“The senator’s file, what sort of care he’s receiving so we’ll know what to take.”
“Will that be on the computer?” MJ hoped not, hacking a computer system wasn’t on her top qualifications list.
“My experience, the small offices like this still use hard copy files to take with them, it’s cheaper than upgrading.”
“That’s good. I’ll look for hardcopy files then,” MJ told her. “You find the medicine and equipment cabinets, work on those locks.”
It wasn’t hard to find the big set of file cabinets, but they were locked, too. “Damn.”
“Want me to open it?” Tasha asked.
“The drawer is actually a little warped.” MJ focused the light on the cabinet. “I think I can wiggle it open without bothering the lock.”
MJ could imagine the workers saying, ‘We really need to get another file cabinet,’ and then no one ever did. Because who was going to break in and look for files?
“Yeah, I wonder who,” MJ mumbled to her fantasy nurses.
MJ jimmied the drawer open, shone her light on the files and looked for Senator Alvin James. “H, I, J—JA, James. Here you are, Senator.” MJ pulled out the file, read over it. “A faulty ticker—only deserving.”
MJ made copies of the file on an ancient copier—you’d’ve thought a private nursing place would have more money—and then put the file back in the drawer. “Any luck with that lock?” She walked over to Tasha.
“Almost.”
MJ flipped through the papers. “Here’s a list of meds—we’re not going to use these right?”
“There’s two guards at his gatehouse, they go through the nurses bag.”
“Rather paranoid isn’t it? Why does an old retired guy need guards?”
“Maybe he made a lot of enemies.”
“So now he wants to stay alive so he can die of heart failure?”
“Sounds like it.” Tasha jiggled her lockpick. “Got it.” She opened the cabinet door, searched for the medicine they needed, loaded it into the bag, then promptly stacked everything back in order so no one could tell the bottles had been touched.
In less than ten minutes, they were in the car and back on the road. On the way back to the hotel, Tasha laid out her plan for the next day.
When they entered the hotel room, the little dark rat with hair yapped and bounced on all four feet, his bushy tail wagging at a frantic pace. Tasha gathered him into her arms.
“Such enthusiasm. We were only gone a few minutes, dog." MJ dropped the bag on the bed.
At her words, Cy wriggled in Tasha’s arms. When she set him down, he promptly ran to greet MJ as well.
“He’s an equal opportunity lover,” Tasha said.
“Yeah, isn’t that a trait most men share? Anything female is fair game?”
Tasha laughed. “So he might not be loyal. But he’s always happy to see me. No pouting. No questions. No sullen mood because I was gone too long.”
The dog bounced at MJ’s feet. She bent and petted him. “He does kind of grow on you.” MJ had never owned a dog. Perhaps she would consider getting one when Angel got older.
“Come on, Cy, time to go pee." Tasha cautiously opened the door, checking for anything suspicious. At her okay, the little black dog ran out, and she called over her shoulder. "Better get ready for bed, even with that nap you had this afternoon. We have an early call with Senator James."
A few minutes later, as MJ was just crawling into bed, Tasha came back, then disappeared into the bathroom, peeling off her clothes as she went. MJ’s eyes were heavy when Tasha walked out of the bathroom, stark naked, and slid under the covers.
Thinking of Angel, deliberately not thinking of Ben or even what the upcoming day would bring, MJ closed her eyes, hoped she’d be back home soon.
* * *
“Yes, we’ll be there at ten o’clock,” Tasha confirmed. “See you then.”
She hung up the phone and turned to MJ. “Let’s head to the rental place, clock’s ticking.”
Tasha always used a rental car explaining her Porsche stood out anywhere, and a classic car like that would look doubly suspicious on a nurse’s salary.
Still to rent one, MJ added up all the expenses, this quest of Tasha’s had to be adding up to a few dimes. “Wouldn’t it be cheaper to jack a car?”
“I wouldn’t steal a car unless it was an emergency.” Tasha looked genuinely shocked. “I have my morals, you know.”
And what could MJ say to that? She blinked, took a deep breath, got in the hot little Porsche and drove Tasha to the rental office. She waited until a few minutes after going inside, Tasha returned with a set of keys.
She leaned down to the window. “Follow me back to the hotel.”
MJ pointed toward the maroon sedan. “Anyone who looks at this car will be able to tell it’s a rental with that sticker on the trunk.”
“Got that covered.” Tasha pulled a bumper sticker out of her bag. “I’ve done this once or twice.” She peeled the paper off the bumper sticker and stuck it over the rental car sticker. ‘Naughty Nurse: Drop your drawers and get ready for a poke.’
“Classy,” MJ said when she read the words.
“I thought so.”
At the hotel, they changed into the nurse scrubs, complete with wigs. MJ hardly recognized herself in a mousy brown shoulder length wig. Tasha’s change was even more drastic with the ugly black bob wig she chose. MJ tucked her Sig into a back holster under her baggy shirt.
“How far’s the drive?” MJ asked when she buckled her passenger side seat belt on the rental car.
Tasha looked at the GPS. “About twenty minutes. He lives on the ot
her side of town with the country club and golf course.”
“Of course. Where else would he live?” MJ said with more than a little sarcasm.
Tasha found the posh neighborhood, then the house easily enough. She turned into the drive and stopped the car by the guard shack.
“You’re new ones,” the guard said, holding out his hand.
Tasha, seeming to know what to do, passed him the medical bag. “With Sandy on vacation and Janet sick, we’re all pulling double duty,” Tasha said.
“That must be why you had to come on a different day.”
The guard seemed bright enough to do the basic job, but not much beyond.
Tasha’s sexual wattage beamed with her smile. “We’re here on a different day because we have to redo a blood test.”
“You like poking that old guy with a needle?”
“I like poking men with a lot of things.” Tasha’s seductive tone matched her so-obvious-I’m-a-slut look that the not-so-bright guard was totally sucked into her lure.
“How about you, you like getting poked?” the man asked, faster on the comeback than MJ would have suspected. Of course he might be the kind of guy that had only one thing on his mind.
“Depends on who’s doing the poking. And with what.” Tasha gave the man a once over, never wavering on the sexy, suggestive act.
MJ watched in admiration. Playing the seductress was a role outside MJ’s comfort zone, but one Tasha easily managed.
“Everything looks okay here.” The guard, who barely glanced at the medical bag, winked at Tasha. MJ tried not to gag at the big, hopeful grin on his face.
“Thank you, darling. You ever go to Sam’s Bar-and-Grill?”
“No.” He squinted. “Can’t say that I have.”
“We hang out there after work on Fridays. See you around sometimes. ’Bye, now,” Tasha said and with a wave of her fingers, she put the car in gear.