by Terry Odell
“You think we’ll be here tonight?” She stood. “Because if so, I should see about dinner.” At least when she was cooking, she was in control. Ingredients did what they were supposed to do. You put a pot roast in the oven, you got pot roast. You didn’t have to keep checking to make sure it wasn’t turning into lasagna. Or turnips. Or a giant meatloaf with a gun inside.
“Fried chicken would be good,” Grinch said. “I know Dylan likes it.”
“Fried chicken.” Okay, if he wanted fried chicken, she’d cook fried chicken. “You have any buttermilk?”
“No, but I can go get some.” He smiled again, and this time it said, “Or I can think of something else we can do to keep your mind occupied.”
Actually, what he was thinking undoubtedly would keep her mind totally unoccupied. Which, under other circumstances, might be a good thing. “I’ll go with you. To get the buttermilk.”
“No need. I can handle it.”
She was getting too good at reading the nuances of his tone. A chill wriggled down her spine. “Are you saying it’s not safe for me to go out in public?”
“Might be prudent to wait here.”
“Alone?” The word squeaked out. Damn, she sounded like such a girl.
He squeezed her shoulder. “Chester will be here, and you’ve got my cell number. I need to pick up a few things for myself, but I shouldn’t be gone more than an hour. Did you put your car in the garage when you came back from the rec center?”
“No, I left it out front. Should I move it?” For someone who said there was nothing to worry about, Grinch was giving her too many reasons to worry.
“I’ll do it. No problem.” He leaned down and kissed her. Gently, a brush of lips, the way she’d kissed him before. A friendly, see you later kiss. If he thought he might never see her again, it would have been a hot, passionate, I want to remember this forever kiss. Wouldn’t it?
This was ridiculous. She was blowing everything out of proportion, obsessing about all the what-ifs. She was a grown woman, and she had an example to set for her son. Nobody, nobody, was going to control her life. Ever again.
She stroked his jaw. “Thanks. See you soon.”
Grinch called Chester into the room. “Give him the back of your hand to sniff.”
Elizabeth crouched and presented her hand to Chester. He not only sniffed her hand, he gave it a generous swipe with his tongue. Probably hoping for more treats.
“Chester, guard.” The dog snapped to attention and sat, ears pricked, eyes fixed on Elizabeth. Chester might not obey her yet if she gave him the kill command, but she’d never felt more protected.
* * * * *
Grinch sat in his truck at the fire station parking lot, ending his follow-up call to Jinx, staring at the phone in his hand. He squeezed the bridge of his nose and counted to ten before punching in a phone number he hadn’t used in a long, long, time.
“Grinciewicz,” the familiar voice said.
“Same to you, bro,” Grinch replied. “How are things in the Everglades?”
“Getting hotter, stickier, and filling up with mosquitoes. But don’t tell me you called for a weather report. What’s it been? Four years? Five? If you don’t count birthday and Christmas calls.”
“Something like that. But I do count those calls. How’s Lisa?”
“She’s fine. Busy trying to keep the invasive species under control. Damn Melaleuca trees would take over the planet if we didn’t slash and destroy. They grow back almost as fast as we get rid of them.”
“Sounds like job security to me.”
“What about you? Heard you’ve got your kid now. Going okay?”
“Fine. We’re adjusting.” He paused.
His brother picked up on it—of course he would. “What’s the problem?”
“You know I wouldn’t bother you—”
“Cut to the chase, Mark. We’re family. Not being in touch every day doesn’t mean I won’t do what I can. I know you’d do the same.”
Of course he would. Even though he and his brother had drifted apart once they were on their own. “I might need a place to lie low for a few days—a week, tops.”
“Shit, man, are you in trouble? I know your work is risky, but I thought you had People With Clout behind you.”
“No. Yes. I mean, it’s kind of my job, but it’s not official, and … it’s personal.”
“How personal? I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Not that kind of personal. I mean it’s not job-related. Actually, it is, sort of, but I don’t want all that … clout … raining down around here. I need to keep things quiet.”
“Take a breath. You’re rambling. I’m guessing there’s a woman in there somewhere.”
Grinch centered himself. “It started as part of the job—mostly because I was in the right place at the right time.” As succinctly as possible, Grinch explained how Elizabeth and Will had ended up in his life.
He imagined his brother smirking. “But now they’re not just part of the job, or you’d let your People With Clout handle it.”
“Yeah. I thought you might have connections—we need a place where nobody would think to look.”
“I’ll see what I can do and get back to you.”
“Thanks, bro.” Grinch almost disconnected, but his brother’s voice came back on the line, soft and subdued.
“Thanks for coming to me. Family matters.”
“Yeah. Family.” Grinch ended the call. Tucking the phone back into its holster, he got out of the truck and strode toward the fire house. On to phase three.
Harry, the dispatcher on duty, grinned when Grinch pushed the door open. “Hey, Grinch. You ready to join us again?”
Grinch smiled at the old man’s enthusiasm. A Nam vet, one side of Harry’s face was puckered with burn scars, and he’d lost a leg in the same firefight. Around the station, nothing got him down, and he rivaled Jinx for coolness when emergency calls came through.
“Not today, Harry. Is the chief in?”
Harry nodded. “Yep. Catching up on paperwork in his office.”
“His office” was a generous term. In reality, a room about twelve feet square housed four desks, one of which belonged to the chief. At the moment, the other three were empty. Grinch rapped on the door frame before stepping into the room. The chief smiled and slipped his reading glasses off his nose. At the motion, Grinch had a momentary flashback to Horace Blackthorne’s similar ritual for meetings with his employees.
Grinch dragged a chair over to the chief’s desk. “Chief, I need a favor. A big one.”
By the time Grinch finished the rest of his calls and errands, including the quick backtrack when he realized he’d forgotten the buttermilk, it was almost two hours from the time he’d left. His heart seemed to beat faster with each passing mile. Worried about Elizabeth? No, she’d have called him if anything looked suspicious. And Chester was with her. Nevertheless, he pushed the truck as fast as the curving mountain road would allow, while keeping an eye out for the cops.
Carrying his purchases, he entered the house, immediately enveloped by a cloud of chocolate, pine and lemon. “Lizzie?”
Upstairs, the vacuum cleaner whirred. He put the buttermilk away, then found Elizabeth in his room. Chester stayed at her side, trembling, but doing as he’d been told, despite his fear of the machine.
“Good boy,” Grinch said. “Clear.”
The dog practically sighed with relief and padded to Grinch. Grinch knelt down and gave the dog a good rubbing. Elizabeth hadn’t stopped her cleaning, although it was unlikely she’d missed his entrance.
You should have called, idiot. She’s not one of your teammates who only needs to hear about problems.
He ambled to her side. “Lizzie?” he said, loud enough to be heard over his mother’s old machine.
She switched off the cleaner, turned and pasted a fake smile on her lips. “Oh. Grinch. You’re back. Already? My, where did the time go?”
Oh, yeah.
He should have called.
“Lizzie. I got hung up.”
She flipped the vacuum back on. “No problem. Chester and I had a nice time. He’s excellent company.”
“Lizzie.” He reached down and unplugged the cord. “Come here. Please?”
She remained where she was, her back to him. He waited, his heart thumping away the seconds. Her torso shifted in his direction. A fraction, but enough so he knew she was relenting. He stretched his arms outward, toward her. “Lizzie. Don’t be mad.”
She pivoted and ran the few steps across the room, ignoring his embrace, pounding her fists into his chest. “I am so mad at you.”
“I know. I know.”
She stopped pounding and leaned into him, shoulders shaking. “Shh, Lizzie. Don’t cry.”
Her shoulders vibrated even harder. She pushed back and he realized she wasn’t crying. She was laughing.
“What? What’s so funny?”
She wiped her eyes. “I’ve never done that before. With Victor, he was always right, I was always wrong. I could never have talked to him that way. It felt good.”
He joined in her laughter. Chester bounded into the room, as if making sure the crazy humans he lived with were all right.
Then Elizabeth pounded his chest one more time. “But you should have called. Somebody could be after us, and I was worried. About you.”
“I knew I was fine, so I didn’t think to check in. You’re right.”
“Of course I am.”
He laughed again. “And I’ll bet that felt good, too. How about this?” He leaned in for a kiss.
Chester whined, then flopped down on the floor at their feet. “It’s all right, boy. I’ll take over from here,” Grinch said.
Elizabeth parted her lips for him, inviting him. Forgiving him. She tasted of chocolate. Hot, molten chocolate. He drove his tongue deeper. Tasting, savoring. His body responded immediately, and he rubbed her against his growing arousal.
On a sigh, she broke the connection. “Not a good time.”
“I can send Chester away.”
“That’s not it. Don’t you have contingency plans to deal with? And I have chicken to fry. It doesn’t feel right, not when we could be in danger.”
He stroked her breast. “Not immediate danger, remember?”
She exhaled a deeper, sigh. With one hand at the back of her head, he pulled her in for another kiss, keeping the other hand on her breast, the contact of their bodies pressing his fingers against her taut nipple. She writhed, increasing the pressure, both at her breast and against his erection.
He groaned. A fleeting thought that she might be furious when he told her his plan tickled at his brain. But the man part of him said he’d rather enjoy the moment, because if he did tell her what arrangements he’d made, she might never let him near her again.
Chapter 27
Elizabeth took the last drumstick out of the frying pan and set it aside to drain. Grinch crept up behind her, munching one of the chocolate chip cookies she’d baked while he’d been running his errands. He’d showered, and his fresh cedar and sage scent blended with the aromas of chocolate and fried chicken. He kissed her behind the ear. “Lizzie, I’m getting too used to this. You’re spoiling me.”
She turned and grinned up at him. “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you referring to the fact that you get dinner made to order? Or fresh-baked cookies? Or is it the mid-morning delight?”
Mid-morning delight? Had she actually said that? Out loud? And the scary part was that she didn’t feel a hint of embarrassment.
“Hmm. Let me think about that,” Grinch said. “Don’t want to make a hasty decision.” He grabbed another cookie, made a point of chewing, tasting. Then he pinched a sample of crust from a piece of chicken and repeated the process. “Nope, can’t decide. One more test.” He snagged her around the waist and kissed her, long and slow. “Definitely a three-way tie.”
She leaned back and looked him in the eye. “I’m not sure how I should take that.”
He pulled her closer, nuzzling her neck. “Okay, so maybe the sex wins. But the cookies are darn close.”
She relaxed against him for a moment before pushing away. Life was becoming too comfortable. For a second time, she’d allowed Grinch to transport her to a place where there was nothing but the two of them. Where Grace wasn’t injured, where Victor wasn’t looking for her, where she was safe.
Back to the moment. She wiped her hands on a towel. “Okay, the chicken is done. Are you going to tell me why you wanted it cooked so early? Dinner won’t be for a few hours.”
“Maybe I like cold chicken.”
Had she become so tuned into him that she knew he was hiding something? “Maybe you do. But there’s more. And you haven’t told me what you did while you were gone. Distracting me with … mid-morning delights … might have postponed things, but it’s time to talk.”
He sighed. “I was making contingency plans. Like I said, I hope we don’t need them.”
Understanding trickled over her. “So, dinner is something transportable in case we do need them. In a hurry.”
He shrugged, then flashed that crooked grin. “Maybe. But I do love cold fried chicken.”
“Are you going to share those contingency plans? You know, with me? The one with a vested interest in them?”
He flipped a chair around and straddled it. “Jinx or Thad Henderson should let us know if anyone’s coming. And when they’re likely to get here. When that happens, we disappear for a couple of days, that’s all. We leave everything behind so it doesn’t look like we’ve gone any farther than down to the store, or a movie, or out to dinner, depending on the time frame. But the odds are, whoever’s looking is going to go to your house.”
“Which is empty. Won’t that be one of your red flags?”
“It won’t be empty.”
“You mean Will and I can go back?” The thought didn’t please her as much as she thought it should. That was her life, living in her own home with Will, not hiding here with Grinch and Dylan, no matter how comfortable it had become.
“Not exactly.”
“Will you please explain?”
“I made some calls. The electrical should be fixed by the end of the day. And a woman who bears a passing resemblance to Julie Ann will be living there.”
Elizabeth flopped into a chair across the table from Grinch. “Okay, I can see the electrical being fixed. It’s been days. But where do you get a woman who looks like me to move in?”
“From Blackthorne. I told you, you’re one of his now, and he’s assigning an operative to live in your house.”
“You’re using her as bait?”
“No, nothing like that. Based on what we’ve put together, someone’s probably connected the rental property to Grace. Logically, they’ll be checking all her properties to see if the tenant is you. When they get to yours, they’ll find an Elizabeth Parker, but it won’t be you. They’ll move on.”
She mulled that over. “I think I get it. She’ll resemble me enough so they can see how they might have mistaken us. But she’s going to look different enough so they know they’re wrong. It might work. But isn’t it dangerous for her?”
“She’s a trained operative. It’s a lot less dangerous for her than it would be for you.”
“What about my car? Could someone know what I’ve been driving? If they picked up my trail before I got here?”
He grinned again. “You’re starting to think like an operative. It’s already covered. She’ll be driving the same basic car, but on the off chance that someone caught the plates, we’ll swap hers for yours.”
“What about Will? Is there going to be a child living there? That doesn’t seem safe.”
“No, no kid. Blackthorne doesn’t recruit ‘em that young. The rental company’s paperwork shows a woman named Elizabeth Parker as the current tenant. There’s no child on record.”
She ran that one around her brain for a bit. “But if they arrive and find a wom
an without a child living there, then they’ll know it’s not me, right? So they’ll go away.”
Grinch nodded. “They should. But there’s always the chance that they somehow know a child lived there. We don’t know who’s been gathering information, or when. If they ask about a child, her cover story will be that her son is at sleepaway summer camp. So it won’t hurt to have a few of Will’s things left behind.”
She rubbed her temples. “How do you manage to come up with this stuff? I mean, I know you’ve been trying to teach me to be aware of what might be going on around me, but this is more than I can wrap my brain around.”
He chuckled. “Mine, too. I’m a pilot. I worked with a team, with people who figured out all the possibilities. Mostly, I went where they sent me, did what they told me to do.”
“Do things ever—you know—go wrong?”
His somber expression answered her question.
“But not this time, Lizzie. This one will be a cakewalk.” His eyes seemed to focus on something far away. He rubbed his chest.
“Did … did something ever go wrong for you?” she asked quietly.
He snapped back, his eyes clear. He reached across the table and took her hand. “I’m here, aren’t I? Sometimes a mission doesn’t go as planned, but there are always backups. As long as everyone gets out, we don’t consider it going wrong.”
Chester barked. A car approached. She jumped to her feet.
“Wait here,” Grinch said.
He walked briskly toward the door. As he left the kitchen she saw him reach under his untucked jersey. Something black appeared in his hand. She blinked. A gun? Had he been carrying a gun around the house?
The doorbell rang. She breathed a little easier. Bad guys didn’t ring doorbells, did they? Unless they were pretending to be good guys. But Grinch had said they shouldn’t know she was here.
She squeezed her temples, trying to stop the flow of thoughts racing through her brain.
Grinch reappeared, along with a slender woman. The gun was gone. Chester was panting happily.
“Elizabeth, this is Olivia. Can you get your keys for her?”