by Ana Leigh
She smelled of toothpaste and the faint fragrance of that perfume he’d bought her. And she smelled of woman.
“I’m not. They were a Christmas gift from my mom years ago. Can’t remember ever wearing them.”
He had to touch her, so he put his hand on the thigh of one of her long, tanned legs sticking out from beneath the top. He thought of the gorgeous breasts concealed under it, the satin flesh, and he slid his hand higher. He could feel the ends of her nerves jumping under his touch. She felt so good. Warm. Satiny. Responsive. So damn responsive.
His hormones took over. Once again his brain shifted down to between his legs, and he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.
Chapter 23
Later they showered together—his contribution to water conservation. He rejected the washcloth and used his hands to soap her, while she did the same to him. By the time they finished, they both were so aroused they made love in the shower.
The mood continued throughout most of the day. They swam, lazed in the sun and made love off and on. It was dusk by the time hunger forced them to finally dress and prepare something to eat. He watched her as she scrambled eggs and fried bacon. He enjoyed finally being able to openly stare at her as she moved around him.
“Supper’s ready,” she said, when she finished.
“You may call it supper, but I consider it breakfast,” he said.
“Mike, it’s 6 p.m., not a.m.”
“I don’t read you,” he said. “Did we eat breakfast earlier?”
“Well no, but—”
“Then, what’s the first meal of the day? Breakfast.”
“But it’s past breakfast and lunchtime, so it’s supper.”
“Maybe to you, but I intend to eat my supper later. I weighed myself and I’ve lost a pound. Either I’ve missed too many meals in the past couple of days, or I’ve screwed it off since last night.”
“Michael, please don’t be crude while we’re eating.”
“Crude? I thought I’d cleaned it up.” He grinned boyishly, “Want to wash my mouth out with soap, Mama?”
“That’s an appealing thought,” she said.
“Yeah, sure is. Maybe we should get back under that shower.”
“Do you ever stop thinking about sex?”
“I heard a statistic that men think about it every ten seconds,” he said.
“Is that collectively or in shifts?” she asked.
He chuckled. “You’re such a smart as—” he choked back the word “—ah…as you can be, Hamilton.”
“Smart enough to know if we don’t change this subject, we’ll never get out of here. Didn’t you say you have to go into town?”
“Right. We better think about getting out of here.”
“At least in the next ten seconds,” she said. She grabbed her plate and hurried to the sink with Mike in hot pursuit.
She washed, he dried the dishes and within ten minutes they were on their way.
“What do you have to go to town for?” she asked as they bounced along in the Ford pickup. “I thought we did all our shopping yesterday.”
“I have to call Waterman. Unless you have something specifically that you need we don’t even have to go all the way into town. I’m coming up on a motel near the outskirts. There’s a telephone booth there.”
“Fine with me. I don’t need anything in particular,” she said.
As he dialed Waterman at the Agency, the scream of sirens shattered the quiet afternoon as an ambulance and police car raced up the road and turned in at the motel. Waterman’s private line didn’t answer, so Mike left word on the voice mail and hung up. At least Waterman couldn’t accuse him again of keeping him out of the loop.
Seeing the arrival of another police car, and a crowd of people standing around gaping, curiosity got the better of him and he walked over to a nearby couple.
“Wh?” he asked.
“The maid found a dead man in one of the rooms,” the man said.
“That’s too bad.” He started to turn away when the woman said, “He was murdered.” Her eyes were wide with alarm. “I bet someone robbed him.”
Mike stopped and glanced at the man. “Murdered? How do they know he was murdered?” The man made a cutting motion across his neck.
“We all could have been slaughtered in our sleep,” the agitated woman said.
“What’s going on?” Ann asked, appearing suddenly at his side.
“Didn’t I tell you to stay in the truck?”
“I’m just as curious as you are,” she said. “What happened?”
“I guess some guy was murdered.”
The murmurs among the crowd quieted as the ambulance crew rolled out a black body bag on a gurney and loaded it into the ambulance. The vehicle raced away with siren screaming.
The crowd started to disperse and return to their rooms, and for the first time Mike had a full view of the white Camero parked in front of the open door of the unit where the body had been found. His intuition kicked in when he saw a Milwaukee dealer’s license plate on the car. He quickly scoped the crowd but didn’t recognize one of them.
“Anybody know who he was?” he asked.
The man shook his head and pointed to a man speaking with one of the officers. “That’s the motel manager talking to the sheriff. He can probably tell you.”
“Ann, get back into the truck. Now!” he declared when she hesitated. She had the good sense to recognize that he meant business. As soon as she climbed into the cab and closed the door, he pretended to appear curious like the other bystanders who had remained at the scene, and moseyed near enough to the manager and sheriff to eavesdrop on their conversation.
“You say this DeVilles checked in a short time ago?” the sheriff said.
“Yeah, not more than an hour.”
“Was he alone?”
“Said he was, but my wife saw another man in the car.”
“Where is he from?”
“He put down Milwaukee. That’s his car, but you can see it ain’t his. It’s a rental.”
“Check it out,” the sheriff said to one of the officers. “And let’s have a look at that registration book.” The two men went into the motel lobby.
Mike hurried back to the truck. “We’ve got a problem.” He dug some coins out of his jeans pocket. “Dammit! I need some more change.”
“I have a lot of change,” she said, and pulled out her change purse and grabbed a handful. “What do you need?”
“A quarter.”
She handed him a fi of coins and he hurried to the phone booth. Time had become critical. Digging out a quarter, he shoved the rest of the coins into his pocket.
Dave Cassidy answered his cell phone before it could ring twice.
“We’ve got a problem here,” Mike said. He kept his gaze trained on Ann in the truck.
“So what else is new?” Cassidy said, cynically.
“Ricardo DeVilles’s dead body just turned up here with a ventilated throat.”
Cassidy whistled. “Sounds like your suspicions about him were right.”
“That means the killer’s here already.”
“If DeVilles was a party to the conspiracy, why was he killed?” Cassidy asked.
“I don’t know. Just hurry. I’ve got to get Ann back to the cabin.”
“Where are you now?”
“In a phone booth of a motel near town.”
“Why don’t you stay there until we arrive?”
“Too many people around. I can’t watch them all. Is the squad with you?”
“Yeah. We’re about an hour away,” Cassidy said.
“Hurry.”
Mike hung up and ran back to the truck.
“What’s going on, Mike?” Ann asked.
“Hold on to your seat, baby. They just wheeled out the dead body of your friend DeVilles.” He pushed the truck to ninety.
“Ricardo’s dead! What…how?”
“He was murdered.”
“Murdered!” T
he color drained from her face, and those violet eyes of hers looked even deeper and darker against the pallor as they glistened with tears.
“Don’t waste tears on him, baby. He was into this mess up to his eyebrows.”
“You don’t know that, Mike,” she murmured sadly. “You didn’t really know him.”
She sounded on the verge of breaking into sobs, but was fighting to hold on to her control. She had a lot of grit—and even now loyalty to a bastard Mike was convinced didn’t deserve it.
“Then whoever is trying to kill me is here now,” she said.
“You’ve got that right.”
“Why go back to the cabin? Why don’t we just keep driving?”
He understood her desperation. He was feeling it, too. He forced himself to stay focused.
“Ann, honey, there comes a time when we have to stop running and hiding. This guy’s too cunning. We’ve got to face him and take him down.”
“You don’t know how many others are with him. You can’t do it alo
“I know that. The squad should be here within an hour. Cassidy picked them up in Milwaukee.”
He screeched to a stop in the yard. “Get inside,” he shouted, and hurried her into the house. “Keep the lights off. It’ll soon be dark, and there’s no sense in making us easy targets. If there’s any shooting, flatten yourself on the floor.”
Ann looked more scared now than he’d ever seen her. He wanted to take her in his arms and assure her she’d be safe. That he’d never let anyone harm her.
But right now they were racing the clock, and every minute was vital. He checked the rear door to make sure it was locked, then bolted the shutters on all the windows except for a couple in the living room to enable him to scan the front yard. He closed and locked the bedroom door shoved the couch against the front door, and then lifted a heavy armchair on top to reinforce it.
Ann had watched him with disbelief. She was growing more frightened by the minute.
“Mike, you’re acting like you’re expecting a siege.”
“If there’s more than one, I can’t cover every door and window in the house. I’m just narrowing the perimeter. Now just sit down and relax. We’ll wait this out.”
“Do you have any idea who might have murdered Ricardo?”
“It’s got to come down to who knew where to find you. Tell me the truth, Ann, did you make any contact with DeVilles since we returned from Kourou?”
“No, Mike. I swear it.”
“What about Brandon?”
She shook her head. “As much as I wanted to, I didn’t.”
“That means, then, the only people we know for sure who knew where you were was your boss, the Agency and the guys on my squad.”
“Mike, I know Barney would never do anything that could harm me.”
“Well, not intentionally,” Mike said.
“Or unintentionally. Barney wouldn’t say anything to someone he doesn’t know well enough to trust. Besides, I never actually told Barney where I was when I called him. He only knew that I was back in the United States.”
“Well, I can rule out any member of my squad. We’ve been through too much together.”
“But no one’s trying to kill you, Mike. It’s me they’re after.”
“Ann, don’t even think it. I know every one of those guys. We’re like brothers.”
“Well then what about the CIA?”
“Give it up, Ann. Waterman and Baker are the two honchos working this case, and they’re trying to save you, not harm you.”
“Yes, but what about their assistants or secretaries? Maybe one of them could have leaked something.”
“Employees who work for the people at the level of Baker and Waterman have uslly gone through pretty tough security checks to get the job. And besides that, you can rule out Baker’s staff. They’re out of the loop. He’s been on leave for the past week same as the squad. The last time I talked to him was the day he asked me to go to England with you. On top of that, you need motive. Waterman’s retiring the end of this year, and Baker’s been with the Agency since ’Nam.”
He sat down at the table, checked his gun, then emptied his pockets and stuffed the gun clips he had into them.
“Is there something I can do to be useful?” she asked.
“Just stay calm, honey. You’re doing great.”
She sat down beside him and glanced at the pile of change she’d given him. “Oh, my goodness!”
Ann picked up one of the coins about the size of a silver dollar. “I forgot to give this back to Brandon when I laundered his pajamas. He cherishes it. His grandfather gave him the coin the last time they were together.”
“Must be valuable,” Mike said.
“I don’t think so. It’s just an English commemorative coin honoring the British queen and her mother.”
Mike picked it up and studied it. The front was a profile of Queen Elizabeth II.
“You say Burroughs gave this to the kid?”
Ann nodded. “Yes, the very morning he was killed.”
He turned it over. It had been coined August 4, 1980, and the engraving read, “QUEEN ELIZABETH THE QUEEN MOTHER.”
“Oh, my God!” Mike exclaimed. “I can’t believe it! And it’s been right under our noses the whole time. Queen Mother is the Agency’s code name for Avery Waterman.” He grabbed his cell phone and dialed Cassidy.
“Dave, Waterman is the one behind this.”
Chapter 24
A burst of bullets ripped the house, blowing out the windows. Mike dropped the phone and threw himself at Ann. Knocking her to the floor, he sprawled across her and tried to protect her.
“Dammit! He’s got an AK-47.” He’d been in combat enough to recognize the sound, and once you heard it, you didn’t forget it. His pistol would be worthless against the Russian-made assault weapon.
“Stay down,” he whispered, shoving Ann under the table. Clutching his pistol, he crawled over to the window just as another burst rattled the truck, blowing out the tires and windows.
“The son of a bitch is shooting up my truck,” he said. “Give it up, Waterman,” he shouted. “It’s too late. We’ve got your number.”
“It’s not going to do you any good when you’re dead, Agent Bishop,” Waterman called back.
“I’ve already called the Agency
“Good try, Bishop, but I don’t think so.” Another burst hit the fuel tank, and the truck exploded.
“That was stupid, Waterman. That explosion and fire will attract attention. The fire department will be out here soon.”
“Not before they can do you any good. I’ll be long gone by then.” He raked the house again with gunfire.
“Or long dead,” Mike shouted, returning his fire. “Ann, we’ve got to get out of here,” he whispered. “It won’t be long before he figures he can drive us out by exploding the gas tank. While I keep him occupied, crawl to the back door and unlock it. He’s obviously alone or we’d be taking fire from elsewhere. I doubt he knows about the motorcycle or he would have shot up the tires on that, too. If we can get into the woods, he’ll follow us. With luck we can double back and get away on the bike.
“Waterman,” he shouted, “how about a deal?”
“What kind of a deal?”
“We both know my pistol’s worthless against your assault weapon, so you’ve got the advantage.”
Waterman’s laughter was as piercing as one of those cartridges he was firing at them. “What did you expect, Agent Bishop, a two-man face-off on the street in the center of the town? Sorry, old chap, John Wayne’s dead.”
“Listen to me, Waterman.” He motioned to Ann to get moving. “I lied to you. The Agency doesn’t know about you, so it’s not too late. What’s the sense of us killing each other?”
“You saying you’ll turn the woman over to me?”
“I might, if you make it worth my while.”
Waterman broke into more laughter. “It won’t work, Bishop. We’ve worked together too lon
g for me to fall for that ploy. You’re too ‘Stars and Stripes Forever’ to give up on a mission. Sorry, old chap, but I’m afraid I’ll have to kill you.”
Mike fired several return shots and while Waterman sprayed the house again with gunshots, he crawled across the floor. Ann was out the door and he caught up with her, grabbed her by the hand, and they dashed into the woods.
A spray of bullets kicked up the dirt at their feet just as they reached the trees. Fortunately this forest was thick with growth, with much better cover to conceal them, unlike the shelter they had sought in the copse of trees in Kourou. Unfortunately they weren’t out of the range of Waterman’s rifle, and if he caught sight of them, he’d be able to pick them off.
Mike purposely headed toward the road leading to the highway. If they were serious about escaping, Waterman would expect them to try to get to the highway where the possibility of encountering traffic would be feasible.
But darkness was where Mike was in his element. He’d been trained to remain in the shadows and operate in a hostile environment where the enemy had everything in his favor.
Waterman had the superior weapon to his advantage, but had been long out of the field and would have to have lost some of his edge. Mike’s disadvane was Ann. He had her to protect, which prevented him attempting anything difficult like he would on a mission with his squad.
Ann was a good runner, so he let it become a foot race for about half a mile. When he drew Waterman far enough away from the cabin, he reversed his direction and turned to stealth.
They moved carefully through the woods trying to avoid rustling a leaf or breaking a twig. Occasionally they’d spot a deer, but not the chirp of a cricket or twitter of a bird broke the silence.
Then Mike suddenly stopped and pulled her down, cautioning her to silence with a finger to his lips. Concealed in the cover of brush, they listened, with breath held, to the nearby sound of Waterman’s footfalls as he stalked through the forest.
When the sound grew dimmer, Mike moved out and headed toward the cabin. After a short distance, he sent Ann ahead and listened to make certain they were out of earshot. The darkness and forest were his weapons. Now would be the perfect time to follow Waterman and take him out. But Ann’s life depended on him, and if he failed, she’d be an easy mark for the killer.