by Jeanne Adams
"Oh, yeah. I even took pictures."
"Really? Real ones? That we can keep?" The stolen facets of her boy's childhood were never more poignant than when he asked these kinds of questions. So hopeful, so unexpecting of something every other kid took for granted. Normal kids got pictures taken all the time. Copies for grandma and grandpa and aunts, uncles, and cousins.
Instead, Xavier avoided cameras. God forbid, if his picture appeared in a newspaper or newsletter, someone might send it to Donovan. That could get them killed.
"Yeah. Maybe we can put some on your cell phone and iPod."
Pressed against Caine's side, she felt him stiffen, though his face revealed nothing amiss. He looked down at her and smiled, but his words were a warning.
"Someone's watching us," Caine said, linking their fingers. "One of the aquarium staffers, the woman."
"Xa-Mike," she said, and the tone of her voice was enough to wipe the delight from his face, turn him from a happy child into the serious, mini-adult she'd come to love and hate. He was instantly wary, on alert.
"Afternoon, folks. Could I have a word with you?"
"So, Patrick, you know what to do?"
"I'm ready, boss."
"There are other things in the works," Donovan said, with a dark smile, thinking of the chaos he'd instigated inside the FBI. "So stay loose. Flexible. I may need your team to move on a moment's notice."
"What about the warehouse?"
"Use it as base, for now. But be ready to meet me for cover. I won't talk about it on the wire, but we're close."
"Great news, boss." Patrick's excitement was genuine, Donovan thought with amusement. He was so transparent.
"Yes, I'm optimistic." His assistant waved to him from the doorway. A business call was coming in. "I'll be in touch."
"Yes, Paulina?" His cousin, as homely as she was smart, was devoted to his interests. The penalties were too high for her not to be, of course.
"It's the Spaniard."
"Hold everything else."
"Sí."
"Senor," he said, engaging the line. "You call at a good time."
"You have your ... package?"
"Soon. Today, I hope. Tomorrow, perhaps. But if my people don't complete the entire transaction, I'll want you available to eliminate the remaining contenders for that package."
"I understand. The usual fee?"
"Yes. Paulina will call."
"Until next time, then, amigo."
Donovan's lip curled. He hated that term, it smacked of those who tried too hard to be his friend.
But, all he said was, "Sí, until next time."
"Paulina," he called in irritation, as he hung up. "You have everything ready for him?"
"Si, Donovan. And the tickets, the passports, they are prepared," she said, slipping into the room, closing the door behind her. "Senor Daniels is here. He is pacing."
"Let him. He can't charge for pacing, the bloodsucker." While he ruthlessly used lawyers to confuse and obstruct his trail and hide his varied businesses, Donovan despised most of them.
He knew more about corporate law than three-quarters of them and had certainly taught most of his own lawyers everything they knew about profit innovation. The more he taught them, the more they charged him, and, he was sure, their other clients. His only satisfaction was that they could no more sell him out to the Feds than a priest. They were too enmeshed in his work, and their own, to go to the authorities.
Donovan checked a note he needed in his PDA, then with a wicked smile, he ushered Daniels into his office. To his credit, the man only huffed a bit about the wait as he strode in and began pulling folders and files from his polished leather briefcase.
"I have a number of updates as well as the files we discussed. In addition, I have the materials you requested this morning."
"Excellent. I have some useful information for you as well."
When Daniels looked up in surprise and a bit of confusion, Donovan just smiled. Let him stew on that while they worked to make Donovan, Jr., even more a part of the family businesses. He also needed to be sure that all the properties in his wife's name would devolve to Donny on her death, since that was imminent.
It was nice to be able to plan these things.
"Let's get to work, then, um, Mr. Walker."
"Please, please," Donovan said, shedding his neatly tailored jacket before he sat at the desk. "Have we not worked together long enough to leave formality behind?"
"Well, urn, yes, Donovan, I believe we have," the lawyer said, smiling in his pleasure.
If people only realized how easily they were manipulated. Of course, if they did, life would be so much less amusing.
"Come then, Trent, let us wrap this up so I may tell you about the new business venture I've discovered for that Armenian client of yours."
He ignored the man's start of surprise, opened the first folder, and began to read, his gold fountain pen poised to sign or make notes.
When Trent left several hours later, Donovan was satisfied that the property matters he'd specified were handled. His will and trusts had been amended to his satisfaction, and the matter of Donny's guardianship when Dana died was well managed.
As an added benefit, Trent was his new "best friend." The information he'd provided to the lawyer on the Armenian was worth a considerable amount and Trent knew it. He could tell the man was mentally spending the money before he even left the building.
"Paulina, I'll be dressing."
"Yes, Donovan."
He was halfway into the change to his street persona, when Paulina knocked on the door to the spacious dressing room.
"What?" She wouldn't disturb him unless it was urgent.
"It's that woman."
Ah. His insider. Very good. "I'll be right out."
"Si." Paulina's voice was stiff with disapproval. He still called Donny's mother his wife, and since his church-loving cousin didn't believe in divorce, she didn't like Donovan's other women. Of course, she also saw this particular one as a double danger, given her FBI status.
"Hey baby," Donovan crooned, curbing his impatience. "What are you wearing?" As much as he wanted to demand why she was calling, what news she had of Donny, it had to be about her first. Otherwise, she might decide Donny was worth too much and use him as leverage.
She giggled. God, he hated that giggle.
"More than you'd like me to, I'm sure," she gushed. "But we'll have to talk about that later. I've gone under, honey. No one knows that I'm not where I'm supposed to be, so it's safe to talk, at least. I got some information for you. Oh," she added, as if in afterthought. "I nearly caught up to Pollack and your son last night."
"Nearly?" he snapped. The idiot woman had gone rogue. Stupid bitch. Why couldn't anyone think? He needed her inside, not chasing—
He cut the thought off. She had done it. There was no going back.
"They're in the wind, but I've got the tracking, so I'm on it," she said, sounding stung by his sharp retort. "They're in Baltimore. They're still planning for the meet, you know. So either way, baby, you've got them."
"That's good news, sugar," he forced the endearment through stiff lips. "Are you coming to me, now?"
"Oh, I wish I could, lover, but I have one more option to get you the prize and I'm going to try for it."
"Be careful, baby. Don't risk yourself." Please, he thought, risk yourself.
He heard her girlish sigh and rolled his eyes. Was everyone working for the FBI this stupid? He should be thankful. It was why he was free, but it provided so little challenge.
"There's no risk, really," she gushed and started to tell him how clever she was. Thankfully, Paulina interrupted once more.
"That sounds really good, sweetie. I hate to do it, but I have to go. Business, yeah. You too." She made kissy noises into the phone, but he cut the call, folding the cell into his pocket.
"Something you need?" he said to Paulina, as he slid his arms into a leather jacket.
"The docume
nts are notarized. I will send them to Senor Daniels. I have the items for the lock box. I was going to put them there now. Unless there is something else?"
"Of course, it is fine to do that errand now. I am going out. Well done, Paulina. What would I do without you?"
She smiled shyly, "You lead my family. You take good care of Maman, and my sisters have all made good marriages, thanks to your care. I seek only to repay that kindness."
"You have money? Everything you need? I may not be back tonight, and may have to leave quickly. Do you need me to give you money?"
"Oh," she said, flustered. "Oh, well—"
Her very hesitation told her she was in need. Paulina was the only one of all his relatives who never asked for money, even when she needed it. It was both irritating and a relief at the same time.
"I have told you, you must ask for what you need. I'm here to provide for you." He peeled fifteen bills off the roll in his pocket, handed them to her. He unlocked the desk, produced a corporate checkbook, and wrote her six checks, each for several thousand dollars. "You know how to handle this. Different banks, deposit it in small doses so you don't attract the IRS track."
"Yes, Donovan. I know. Thank you." She bowed over the checks he handed her, averting her eyes. He heard her sniffle.
"Now, now, Paulina. Don't let things get desperate. You do excellent work for me. I wish to reward you for your loyalty, your service."
"Yes, Donovan. Thank you." The phone rang in the outer office, and she pulled herself together and hurried to answer it. He heard her pleasant greeting as he secreted weapons and another untraceable cell phone in his jacket.
"It is Patrick," she said from the doorway. "It is urgent, he says."
Chapter Thirteen
To Dana's relief, the staffer was the marketing director for the aquarium. She'd seen Xavier feeding the killer whale and noted his fearlessness.
"He's a handsome boy, and we're searching for, uh, multicultural youngsters for our advertising campaign. Do you live in Maryland?"
"Yes," Caine lied smoothly. "We're from Cumberland. The Deep Creek Lake area."
"Oh, that's a beautiful area," the woman started to ask about particular sights, but both her phone and her pager went off at the same time. She glanced at the pager, rolled her eyes, and excused herself to take the call. "I'm with someone at the moment, but I'll call you as soon as I get free," she told the caller. Ending it, she got right to her point. "I'm sorry, as I was saying, we have plenty of girls, all ethnicities, and two boys, but they are uh, too, uh, homogeneous, if you know what I mean. Would you consider letting him be a part of the group? He'd get free membership to the Aquarium Club for a year, a small fee for participating, and a chance to spend two days feeding the dolphins."
"That's quite an offer," Caine said, smiling at the woman. "Can we take your card, think it over? We're on vacation, and we'd have to look at our schedules. How about we call you when we get home?"
"That would be great. Mike," the young woman turned to Xavier, handing him a card as well. "We'd love to have you visit again, even if you don't help us with the commercials. Give me a call before you come. I'll get you a special tour, okay?"
"Wow, thanks."
They left the woman's office, exchanging glances. Dana's was relieved, she was sure, and Caine's revealed his amusement.
"The good news," Caine said quietly, directing them to the gift shop, "is that we're being taken for a family, we're presenting the right look," he added, with a wink to Xavier.
To Xavy's delight, they emerged with books, a stuffed snake, a stuffed whale, and a toy for Shadow.
"There's a restaurant over there," Caine slid on sunglasses, then pointed to the old power plant renovated into a combination bookstore and bar. "We can get a snack, and I can use the phone. They have twenties vintage phone booths in the restaurant according to the guard in the aquarium."
He took Dana's hand and strolled to a bridge they'd need to cross to reach the restaurant. Music poured out, and Xavier spotted a sign saying the restaurant had milkshakes.
"Cool, can I have a milkshake, Mom, while we wait for Mr.—" at her sharp look, he amended the request. "While we wait for Dad?"
"You bet," she said, bending down so her face was at his level. She hoped her smile eased the sting of that visual reprimand. "But there's a kiss toll to cross this bridge. You don't pay it, you go over the side and into the briny deep."
He giggled and tried to dance past her, but she grabbed him, swung him around, and tickled him until he paid the toll.
"Now Mist—Charlie, he has to pay the toll too."
"Oh, yeah," Caine said, laughing. She looked at him, at a loss for what to do. "I'm liking kiss tolls. Good suggestion, Mrs. Peterson."
"Mr. Peterson," she tried to make her voice stern, in the face of Xavier's giggles and Caine's exaggerated swagger. "We are in a public place. I don't think..."
"No, you think too much, Sara," he said softly as he slid an arm around her waist. "Just kiss me, dear. I'll pay the toll."
She tried for a peck on the cheek, but he turned at the last minute and their lips met. Clung. Parted, to return for more of the sweet pleasure of tasting one another.
"Wow, some toll," Xavier said on a whistle. "What'd you do, uh ... Charlie? I only have to kiss her twice when I've scr—messed up."
"I take it s-c-r-e-w is on the money list?" Caine said, looking down into Dana's face. He was smiling, but she saw a puzzlement in his eyes.
"Yes, unless we're referring to the use of hardware and the application of force thereto," she answered his question even as she wondered about the sea of emotion. "I get some of my quarters back if he lets fly with a curse word."
"Ah, I'll try to remember that." He used his arm to turn her and grabbed Xavier too, throwing an arm around the boy's neck. "As it happens, Mike, since I'm about twice your weight, I needed to pay a bigger toll. You keep growing the way you are, and you're gonna have to kiss her twice too, you know."
"Awwwww, man, really?"
"You bet. Bigger load, bigger kisses."
"Jeez Mom, you sure you can stand it?"
The laugh caught in her throat as Caine's grin flashed and he said, "Yeah, honey, think you can deal?"
"Oh, I think I might be able to manage."
"Does this mean I get a milkshake?"
Dana laughed, and for one moment, one precious moment, allowed herself the fairy tale. Within a few short days, she'd managed to create a dream of a man for her to love and for her son to enjoy, freely. It might be fleeting, it might be all playacting, but God, it felt good.
"Sure. I'll get one too. What about you ... honey."
"Yeah, chocolate for me, and a burger and fries. Man needs a snack, you know," he claimed when she made a surprised noise.
"Snack?" she said, reading the menu pasted on the wall. Pictures of the plates, heaped with French fries were prominently figured. "If the pictures are any indication, the fries are a meal, not a snack. And you guys just ate."
He bussed her cheek and let her go. "That was hours ago. We shopped, we daringly faced our fears and fed killer whales. We need fries, right, son?" he ruffled Xavy's dark hair, and the boy grinned happily. As if by coincidence, he turned to see the phone booths.
"Hey, check out those cool old phone booths," he nodded toward them as the hostess pulled out some menus and turned to indicate a table. "You get a seat, honey. I need to call to the office. I won't be long, I prom- ise," he added when she started to protest, trying to stay in character. "Really. We're on vacation. I told you I wouldn't do much work." He kissed her again, surprising her and drawing a smile from the young hostess.
"I'll just check in with my assistant since I couldn't get my cell to go through; honest, it'll be fast. Go ahead and order for me, I'll be right there."
Their bases covered, they went their separate ways; Caine to the phones, Dana and Xavy to the table. The hostess rattled off some specials and left them with the menus. The food had just arrived
when Caine slid in the booth next to her.
"Interesting info on the call. We'll talk about it in the room," he murmured.
"Okay."
They spent an hour in the restaurant, eating and laughing, then played some of the games and let Xavier try a motorcycle ride. They even wandered through the bookstore for a while. No trace of the professional agent leaked out through Caine's I'm a dad persona. It was easy for Dana, she was Xavy's mom, but to see him take so easily to the role ...
Dana was disappointed when they prepared to troop out, find a cab.
"Hey, Dad!" Xavy called, surprising both Dana and Caine with the moniker. He was hanging over the bridge walkway. "Look at the boat."
They watched the boat and several others in the harbor for a few minutes, but the breeze was cool and before long, they returned to Chessie's.
In the room, Xavy returned to saving the video universe while Caine and Dana sat in front of the gas fireplace. Shadow was happily asleep in front of the hearth. When Dana would have taken a chair across from him, Caine patted the seat at his side.
"Snuggle down in here with me, Mrs. Peterson, and let's talk."
"It isn't necessary to—"
"Ah, but it is. You're not comfortable with it in public, and that may get us all killed." He said it conversationally, but that simply heightened the impact.
Heart heavy, she sat, leaning into him when he pulled her to his side. It was the game, after all.
"That's better. There's another thing too, Sara," he added, his tone still easy, light.
"What's that?" she pulled away enough to look at him.
"I want to hold you." Something hot and wild smoldered in his eyes and set fire to the needs coursing within her. "Very much."
She was overwhelmed with a sudden desire to rip his shirt open, drag him to the floor, and make love like there was no tomorrow. The vision was a bucket of cold water. There might not be a tomorrow.
"What?" Caine asked.
"Tomorrow is not promised to us," she whispered, averting her gaze.
"No, but we'll do what we can. Now get comfortable. Kick off your shoes." She did as he bid, even as every nerve ending flared to full alert where she was pressed into him. "That's better."