Shot in the Dark

by Tracy Solheim

  The transition of duties complete, he took his place at the corner of the viewing platform, his stare trained on the crowd. She’d need him to pose as her date again if they were to meet with Tseng. And there was no way she wasn’t pursuing this if Christian was involved somehow. Convincing the Tower of Testosterone to play along would take some doing. But given how he’d kissed her the night before, she suspected she might have the upper hand.

  “Did you know that elephants have fingers on their trunks?” Josslyn returned her attention to the group of squirming fourth graders she was lecturing. “Elephants living in Africa have two of them.” She held up two fingers. “They use them like pinchers to pick things up off the ground so they can put them in their mouth.”

  The children sat forward when the trainer brought one of the female elephants up to the fence behind Josslyn.

  “This is Mila,” Josslyn continued. “She’s an Asian elephant. Asian elephants only have one finger in their trunk.”

  As if on cue, Mila stretched her trunk through the cable fence and proceeded to play with Josslyn’s ponytail. The children were enthralled, scooting closer while their chaperones urged them back.

  “Now she’s just showing off,” Josslyn joked. “If Mila were back in Asia, she would use her trunk like a giant rope, wrapping it around things she wants to pick up. Did you know an elephant can lift over seven hundred and fifty pounds with their trunks?”

  The chatter among the children increased several decibel levels as they debated among themselves just how much seven hundred pounds was. Like a baboon grooming its mate, Mila continued her exploration of Josslyn’s hair.

  “How come that elephant doesn’t have any tusks?” a girl called out.

  “Because it’s a girl,” a boy in the back quickly answered. “Girls are too stupid to have tusks.”

  A chorus of cries about the S word ensued while a teacher admonished the little bully.

  Josslyn attempted to regain control. “In the species of elephants that live in Asia, only the males have long tusks, but not all the males.” She smiled serenely at the boy who’d made the sexist comment. “The females and some males have short little stubby tusks that protrude an inch or two from their lip. They aren’t made up of ivory. Therefore they are small and brittle. These are called tushes.”

  She waited for the obligatory snickering to die down before continuing.

  “In Africa, both the male and the female elephants have tusks. They—”

  Suddenly, a girl sprang up from her seat on the floor. Agent Lockett shifted slightly toward Josslyn, but the girl turned to face her classmates.

  “Do you know that elephants are going extinct because people steal their tusks?” the girl exclaimed. “They gun down the elephants in the wild and rip their tusks right out of their heads. They have to touch their brains to do it!”

  Some kids groaned while others seemed to be lapping up the details with a macabre appetite.

  “Soon there will be no more elephants left because these mean people steal their tusks to wear round their necks or something. We have to do something about it!”

  The girl turned around to face Mila. The tears streaming down her young face startled Josslyn. A burst of pride ripped through her. Had she been this passionate at ten years old? Would her daughter be as passionate? Would she even have children?

  Without thinking, Josslyn wrapped the girl up in her arms, quietly shushing her while giving her a gentle squeeze. Over the girl’s head, Agent Lockett’s gaze met hers. Apparently, he could read her thoughts because he was having trouble keeping his eyes from rolling out of their sockets.

  “I’m so sorry.” One of the chaperones—the girl’s mom from the sound of it—pried her from Josslyn’s arms. “Her father let her watch something on Animal Planet that he shouldn’t have. Come along, Maddie.”

  Josslyn refrained from shouting “Go, Maddie” or “Good for Dad,” but she very much wanted to. Maddie represented the future generation of animal rights’ activists and Josslyn didn’t want the girl’s mom or anyone else—she looked over at Agent Lockett—subduing the youngster’s passion. Refocusing her thoughts, she jumped back into the lecture.

  “Elephants have a keen sense of smell. Better than a bloodhound. Using their trunks, they can smell water up to twelve miles away. That’s farther than your school is from the zoo.”

  The kids giggled, some of them pointing at Mila. Josslyn glanced over her shoulder to see the elephant using her trunk like a telescope to sniff out the occupants of the room. Flirt that she was, Mila had her trunk aimed at Agent Lockett who was doing his best to keep out of sight. Mila brought her trunk back and buried it in Josslyn’s neck.

  “Elephants like to touch frequently,” she went on. “They use their trunks as a form of tactile communications.”

  Mila’s trunk swung back to Agent Lockett. The children’s heads pivoted to follow. He took another step back. Mila trumpeted.

  “Look at his gun!” one of the boys whispered loudly.

  “Is he here to protect the elephants from poachers?” a girl asked, her eyes wide and her voice shrill.

  “I’ll bet he has a knife, too.”

  “Hey, mister, can we see your gun?”

  The kids called out questions as the teachers tried to quiet them. Mila dragged her trunk along Josslyn’s neck seeming to urge her to move closer to Agent Lockett. The children scooted closer to him, as well.

  “His shirt says Secret Service,” one boy commented. “Are these the president’s elephants?”

  “These are everyone’s elephants,” Josslyn said, trying to regain control. “They belong to you and me and the president.”

  “They shouldn’t have guns around kids,” a girl announced to the teacher. “My mom didn’t sign me up for that.”

  Her words brought Josslyn up short. She didn’t have to think if she ever acted like Little-Miss-Panties-in-a-Wad. Josslyn had sounded just like that last night in the car with Agent Lockett. Childish and entitled. He’d said he didn’t hunt, yet she’d treated him like those idiots whose idea of a great vacation was shooting a defenseless animal and mounting it on their wall.

  A silent exchange seemed to occur between him and Agent Groesch. Suddenly the teachers and chaperones were rounding up their charges. Amid a chorus of thank you, the children were led out the door of the elephant house.

  Mila flapped her ears at Agent Lockett. Being the Tower of Testosterone, he ignored the animal. The elephant dipped her trunk into the moat lining the interior of the fence.

  “No, Mila,” Josslyn commanded.

  Agent Lockett turned at the sharp tone in her voice.

  Mila flapped her ears again.

  “She’s flirting with you,” Josslyn tried to explain to him.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Would it kill you to come over here and give her a pat?”

  From across the room, Agent Groesch choked on what might have been a laugh.

  “That’s not in my job description.” Ignoring the forlorn elephant, he braced his feet and clasped his hands behind his back.

  “I tried, Mila. I guess he’s just not that into you.” Josslyn was bending down to retrieve her iPad when a spray of water doused the cement floor behind her.

  “Mila, I said no!” She reprimanded the elephant. But it was too late; Mila was already ambling back out into the yard, her tail swishing with delight.

  Agent Lockett, however, was not so delighted.

  Mila’s aim was dead-on, drenching his upper body. He shook his head slightly, the move sending droplets of water flying. Biting her bottom lip to keep from laughing, Josslyn offered him her sweatshirt to towel off. One look at the water sluicing down his stony face and she couldn’t contain the laughter any longer.

  “I’m glad one of us is amused.”

  “Hey, at least you and she have something in common,” she chuckled. “You can both shoot straight.”

  Scowling, he snatched the sweatshirt from
her hand.

  His expression made her giggle even harder. Burying her face against his damp chest, she laughed until her side ached. For his part, Agent Lockett didn’t move a muscle, annoyance and water dripping off his chin.

  “Are you done yet?”

  Taking a step back, Josslyn wiped her eyes. “You have to admit—”

  Her voice froze. It was almost as though she’d conjured up the image of him from that long-ago night. Wet and disheveled like he was, he looked almost vulnerable. The complete antithesis from the stoic, calculating sniper’s demeanor he wore like a shield. She reached up her finger to catch a droplet of water curving down his throat. But as usual, he was faster. His fingers snared her wrist midway.

  “Don’t.”

  *

  Damn it, why did this woman have to keep touching him? Technically, he was the one doing the touching right now, but, as usual, she started it. And why did she have to have such a captivating laugh? The very sound of it made the muscles at the back of his neck loose and edgy at the same time. And now she was looking at him as though she wanted to discuss her emotions. That was not happening. Her lips began to wobble.

  “Don’t,” he repeated with a little more edge this time.

  He released her wrist.

  “I—”

  “Woman, don’t you ever listen?” he growled. “I said don’t. Now, if you’ll go with Agent Groesch, I’m going to change. At least I came prepared today. I don’t make the same mistake twice.”

  He let the veiled warning float between them. She crossed her arms over her glorious chest, covered up today by a Smithsonian-issue chambray button-down shirt.

  “Except that you did make the same mistake today.” She gestured to his wet body.

  The back of his neck became a vice again. She was beyond infuriating.

  “I just wanted to say thank you,” she murmured.

  “For playing the buffoon and letting your elephants humiliate me?”

  Her chin rose up a notch. “No, you arrogant ass. For before. For saving my life. For treading water all those hours. For keeping the sharks and the whales at bay.”

  She’d gone there anyway even after he’d told her not to. Well, he wasn’t interested in a walk down memory lane. Adam never looked back. Only forward. And right now, he needed a dry shirt.

  “And making me feel safe and—”

  “I was just doing my job,” he interrupted. “Nothing more.”

  He shoved the sweatshirt back at her, but she just stared at it.

  “I never saw you after they pulled us from the water,” she said quietly.

  Adam scrubbed a hand down his face. “That’s the way it works,” he lied.

  It wasn’t the way it worked, but after the SEAL team plucked them from the sea, he’d instantly regretted telling her his secrets. Knowing his past gave her power over him. And Adam had vowed never to give another individual the kind of power his father had wielded over him. No matter how amazing her kisses were.

  He draped the sweatshirt over her shoulder and edged past before she could get in another word.

  “You’re on point, Christine. I’m going to change.”

  If Christine sensed anything between him and Josslyn, she wisely kept it to herself. Adam made his way out of the elephant house.

  “Dude, did you go swimming?” one of the Uniformed Division officers joked when Adam approached him for the keys to the SUV.

  “Something like that. Agent Groesch has Doolittle. Keep an eye on the entrances.”

  His phone rang as he headed toward the parking lot.

  “What do you have for me, Ben?”

  “For starters, I have a few questions about what went on in the China Room last night.”

  “Hanging up now,” Adam snapped.

  “Okay, moving on,” Ben said. “Metro PD still hasn’t located the Mercedes from yesterday, but they’re still going with the wrong place, wrong time theory.”

  “And you?”

  “I’d like a better image for the facial recognition software. But I was able to make out a tattoo on the passenger’s neck.”

  “And?”

  “It doesn’t fit the profile of any of the gangs in or around DC, much less the East Coast,” Ben answered. “In fact, it matches ones worn by members of the Nimba tribe in Zimbabwe.”

  Shit.

  “I sifted through custom’s data,” Ben continued. “And wouldn’t you know it, seven people entered the US from Zimbabwe the day after Doolittle was dragged back here kicking and screaming. Four women, one child and two men. One of those men sports the very same tattoo as our guy in the Mercedes.”

  “That’s a hell of a coincidence.” Adam wound his way through the crowd milling around the exhibit of American bison.

  “That must have been some sort of fact-finding trip for the Smithsonian she was on.”

  Adam huffed. “The only facts she was interested in are those about an animal trafficking ring she’s trying to expose. The Smithsonian documentary was her cover.”

  His gut clenched at the chaos created when civilians attempted to play spy. Given Josslyn’s track record as an activist, it was a wonder she’d made it out of Africa at all. Still, she’d held her own the night before at Tseng’s house. She was better at subterfuge than most. Not that he was going to tell her that.

  “Any connection between her friend Tseng and the Zimbabwe tribe?” he asked Ben.

  “None that I’ve found yet, but I’m still running down leads. Aside from his fondness for cocaine, Tseng’s led a pretty boring, if not entitled, life.”

  “Except for the illegal zoo he keeps on display in his study.” Adam didn’t bother hiding his disgust. While he wasn’t against hunting for sport, he drew the line at killing a wild animal for its tusk or its foot.

  Unlocking the lift gate of the SUV, he pulled his gym bag from the back where he’d placed it before the shift change.

  “I don’t care how clean Tseng appears,” Adam said as he juggled both his cell phone and his comm unit while he shrugged out of his damp shirt.

  Ben chuckled. “You sure you just don’t like the way Tseng was coming on to your date last night? I mean the guy tried to poach her right under your damn nose.”

  Adam swore when he got tangled in the wet fabric.

  “Funny,” Ben continued. “You tend toward women who are more nurturing and settled. But I think wild might be more your thing.”

  “There’s nothing funny here,” Adam argued once he’d pulled his new shirt on. “And there’s definitely no thing.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  Adam was tucking his shirt into his pants when his senses prickled. Scanning the quiet parking lot, he spied a lone man standing thirty yards from where he was. A man with a lot of ink around his neck.

  “Ben,” Adam said quietly. “Can you describe that tattoo?”

  His friend was suddenly all business. “Three-dimensional. Black rhino horns juxtaposed to form a necklace.”

  Shit.

  The guy was on the run before Adam could reattach his comm unit.

  “Lock down Doolittle,” Adam shouted into the microphone as he took off after the man.

  He chased the African back into the zoo, his earpiece dangling at his neck. Fortunately, the guy bypassed the elephant house, sprinting instead toward the valley section. Adam wove his way through preschoolers trying to close the gap, but the other guy had too much of a lead. They passed the ape house where a crowd gathered to watch the orangutan goof around on a tightrope overhead.

  Adam swore silently when he thought he’d lost his mark, but just then, a woman yelled at someone to watch out. He caught sight of the tribesman ducking down the path leading to the anteater house. This area of the zoo wasn’t as congested as other areas and Adam had a sudden, terrifying thought. What if this guy is the decoy? He didn’t dare take his hand off his gun in the holster to reinsert his comm into his ear, but he hoped like hell Christine had heard his plea and gotten Josslyn to safety.<
br />
  The guy made the mistake of looking back over his shoulder. Adam gained a few yards before the African jumped over a fence leading into a dark cave-like structure. Drawing his gun, Adam followed him in.

  The sound of rapid clicking stopped him in his tracks. Wherever they were, it was dimly lit. A sweat broke out at the base of Adam’s neck at the sound of flapping behind the mesh cages.

  “They can’t get you,” he admonished himself. “Move your damn feet.”

  Too bad his feet weren’t listening. Suddenly he was back in that storage area, cold, hungry, and tormented by the damn bats whose habitat he’d unwillingly invaded.

  “Agent Lockett!”

  The Uniformed Division driver bounded into the exhibit, snapping Adam out of his funk.

  “Come on,” Adam commanded as they made their way through the dark passage.

  They ran out into the bright afternoon sunshine, but the African was long gone. Adam grabbed his phone and dialed up Ben.

  “Tell me you have eyes on him,” Adam panted.

  “The sea lions are just starting their show,” Ben said. “Cameras lost him among the crowd. We’ve got video rolling along every inch of Connecticut Avenue, though. We’ll get him.”

  Adam swore violently. He reinserted the earpiece of his comm unit.

  “Where’s Doolittle?” he demanded.

  “Secure in the Serengeti,” Christine quickly responded. “You okay?”

  No. He’d gone wussy and lost the freaking suspect.

  “Yeah,” he said. “The suspect is still at large. Prepare Doolittle to return to the Crown immediately.”

  Chapter Seven

  Agent Lockett didn’t accompany them back to the White House. According to Agent Groesch, he’d stayed behind to track down leads.

  “And he’s sure it’s the same guy who was in the van yesterday?” Josslyn asked. “I thought that was just a mistaken identity thing?”

  Although that niggling feeling that she recognized the passenger in the van continued to haunt her.

  “We’re just covering all the bases right now.” Agent Groesch had clearly mastered the doublespeak class during her Secret Service training.