An Unlikely Hero (1) (32 page)

“Got a message from Ben,” he said looking sternly into the phone.

“How is the old stick in the mud?” she said flippantly.

“He’s beginning to wonder what side you’re on, Honey.”

Chase’s growl of disapproval irritated Honey. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“He wants to know what the hell you’ve done with Dr. Haskin’s boys!”

Robert watched Honey slink out of the darkness as she shoved her phone in her pants’ pocket. She looked upset, or was it anger. He couldn’t tell. That cool exterior made Honey hard to read. His Tessa on the other hand read like a book who wore her feelings on her sleeve. Even the way she walked across the floor could alert Robert to a problem. “You okay?” He patted Daniel on the head as he motioned for Sean Patrick to go inside. The kids were so tired they volunteered to go to bed on their own.

Heather wouldn’t let her father pick her up, but instead raised her chubby little arms up to Honey. She lifted the little girl up and felt a strange sensation as Heather laid her curly head on Honey’s shoulder. Heather’s little hand patted Honey’s face and then she felt a wet kiss on her cheek. “I’m sleepy.”

Honey hugged the little girl and surprised herself by returning the kiss. Robert picked up Daniel who circled his father’s neck and mumbled sleepily that he wanted a bedtime story. “Not tonight, buddy. Let’s get you dressed for bed. Okay?” Daniel nodded.

After helping Heather with her pajamas, Honey tucked her in beneath a thin quilt. “There! All ready for bed. Your daddy will be in shortly to say goodnight.”

Heather gave her a sleepy smile. “I want to be just like you.”

Honey stood up tall and looked down at the little girl, and tried to remember such a time of innocence in her own life. “Why is that? You want to be a park ranger?”

Heather closed her eyes and shook her head ‘no’. “Cuz you’re nice.”

That depiction rarely was used in describing Honey Lynch, she realized. Suddenly she felt claustrophobic, a little panicked and a lot guilty. Honey patted Heather’s head and returned to wait for Robert by the enclosed fire on the deck. She stacked up their paper plates and threw them in the fire, closed the box of graham crackers and poured some water on the fire.

“Thanks for your help.” She barely smiled and made no eye contact as Robert softly closed the screen door. “Your call, is there a problem? You seem a little upset.”

Honey dusted some crumbs from her hands and moved toward the steps. “No. Just a guy I know.”

“Boyfriend?” Robert asked with some interest.

“Not anymore.”

Lights faded in the Scott cabin two hours later as Honey waited in the cover of darkness. Another beautiful night, Honey thought as her eyes searched the heavens splashed with starlight. A gentle breeze initiated her tug on the hood of a sweatshirt she’d slipped on after leaving the Scott family. She could smell the smoldering fire where she’d made chocolate s’mores with the kids a few hours earlier. Their laughter still raced in her head. But nothing haunted Honey more than Heather’s words: “I want to be like you cuz you’re nice.” She smirked at that comparison. Robert appeared to be unaffected by her charms. That definitely was a first. Maybe he really did love that plain-Jane-of-a-wife; why else would he not take the hint? There existed the possibility he just didn’t find her attractive. Other happily married men had strayed to her from time to time. They paid dearly for that mistake. No matter. It would soon be over. Honey took out her weapon holstered at her waist. She moved toward the cabin. Orders were orders. Playing both sides against the middle was starting to take a toll on her. Maybe this would be the last time.

Mansur frowned at the Haskins twins sleeping on the floor. Their gags had been removed but their hands remained bound with flex ties. He’d fixed a simple meal of tomato soup earlier in the evening, pouring it into chipped Fiestaware cups. The boys cautiously drank the liquid, always conscience of what Mansur did next. His bulky form seem to lumber from one simple task to another as night fell around the three room structure that was more of a shack than a cabin. The windows were open to let the night breezes cool the musty smelling room. A camping stove hissed as Mansur brewed some coffee. His thick fingers looked awkward handling the utensils needed to make soup and coffee. His curly hair needed washing and his beard trimmed, but there had been too much to do the last few days to worry about personal hygiene.

Honey had managed to take care of herself, often complaining that Mansur smelled like a pig and why didn’t he take more after his brother. Mansur ignored her, knowing his appearance both irritated and repulsed her sensibilities. It had been the only way to tolerate her overbearing insults and provocative body language. Moody and unpredictable were not qualities he liked in a woman, but confidence and beauty were and Honey Lynch possessed more than her fair share of all those characteristics. He hated and admired her. Longing to strangle her very tan neck and caress it passionately kept Mansur a little off balance. It was better to keep his mouth shut and follow orders than to ponder the possibilities with the volatile assassin.

He lumbered to the window when the sound of gravel crushing beneath tires reached his ears. The headlights of Honey’s truck swung in off the road and stopped at the edge of the small porch. Moving away to the stove he stopped long enough to rap on the bedroom door with his knuckles. Jamaal timidly joined him waiting for Honey to enter the cabin. He looked to Mansur for some kind of signal, a message, anything that would let him know everything was okay with the world again. Mansur just shrugged and smirked, knowing Jamaal was terrified of Honey and dreaded this encounter.

“I thought I smelled pig grease,” Honey said casually, knowing the reference insulted his Muslim upbringing. She held a blood splattered ranger shirt and hoody in her hand which she tossed on a nearby wooden chair. Her purple camisole, tight and damp, left little to the imagination. Mansur diverted his eyes when Honey started to stretch but Jamaal couldn’t tear his eyes away from her breasts that showed through the flimsy garment. When she’d finished, Honey let her hands fall to her hips. Their eyes locked at that moment and Jamaal dropped his head and slithered away to sit at the unsteady table. “Creep!” she fumed as the bedroom door swung open and a self-assured Essid walked into the room. His clothing, jeans and a red polo shirt made him look more like a golf pro than a Libyan terrorist. He devoured Honey with his eyes, letting them linger on his favorite parts. Frozen in his gaze, Honey waited for the light skinned Libyan to speak.

Essid spied the blood splattered clothing on the chair then extended his hand. Honey removed her weapon from its holster and handed to him. Sniffing carefully, Essid caught the scent of gunpowder. Smiling, he checked the chamber and decided four rounds had been fired. He walked to the stone fireplace and laid the gun on the mantle before turning to face the still frozen Honey. Opening his arms he continued to smile at his enchanting assassin.

“I have missed you,” he said nodding to her.

Without a moment’s hesitation Honey ran to Essid and jumped into his arms, circling his hips with her legs. She found his mouth, kissing him passionately. As he began to pull away, Honey sunk her teeth gently into his bottom lip and pulled as her own smile spread across her face. “Send them away,” she moaned into his ear as her feet touched the floor. “Now!”

Essid motioned toward the door with his eyes making Mansur and Jamaal quickly leave. He looked at the boys curled up on the floor and knew with the drugs he’d given them they would not hear anything from the bedroom.

“Still no answer,” Tessa sighed as she handed Chase the phone he’d dialed for her. “They must not be getting a signal. I wonder what they’re doing.” Tessa verbalized her thoughts out loud. Chase continued to drive silently, keeping an eye on his rear view mirror. She turned to look at the two men in the backseat; Mr. Crawley who looked much better today, and Zoric who also kept a cautious eye on the surroundings. When Zoric shifted his eyes suddenly to meet Tessa’s, he narrowed them and smiled, almost impishly like he knew a secret. Her sudden turn to face the front drew a small chuckle from the backseat.
He thinks I slept with Chase!
The truth of the matter, she actually had slept with Chase Hunter. Tessa started pulling her hair up into a ponytail as memories of the night before came flooding back.

Exiting the bathroom, Tessa had found Chase propped on the bed again grumbling about how the Cardinals had beaten his team. “Well they are the first place team in their division,” Tessa smirked with a shrug. “And they’ve beaten the Giants the last three times at home. What’d you expect? They choked, just like always.”

Chase pushed a button on the remote to turn the television off. “You’re a baseball fan?”

“Only if it involves the Cardinals. My dad took me to a few games when we visited my Aunt Marie in St. Louis.”

Chase boldly eyed her standing there in front of him, dressed in a pair of cut off pajamas and a long sleeve tee shirt that wasn’t really meant to be slept in. She’d made sure all the important parts were covered and started to fidget under his appreciative gaze. Her lazy blonde curls damp from the shower and her face scrubbed clean, gave her a youthful appearance. The scent of soap clung to the air as the remaining steam escaped the bathroom.

“I’m tired. Can we go to bed now?” As soon as the words had spilled from her mouth, a blush bloomed on her face. “I mean…” the stutter forced her to move to the other side of the bed.

Chase reached over as if to turn out the light. “I thought you’d never ask,” he grinned mischievously, knowing that Tessa Scott was so mortified that she’d probably stutter the rest of her life.

“No! I meant…”

Chase paused before darkening the room. “Relax, Tessa.” Again that smile: “I know what you meant. Which side do you want?”

“Side? Side!” she said nervously. “You don’t honestly think I’m going to sleep in the same bed with you?”

He jumped off the bed and went to the closet, pulling out another blanket and pillow before throwing it at Tessa. “Suit yourself. I paid for the room so I’m sleeping on the bed,” he said off handedly as he flopped back onto the bed.

The lights went out. “Will you be reimbursed?”

“Probably,” came a yawn response.

“Then as a taxpayer, I also paid for the room.” No comment. “Fine!” Tessa pulled up the faded wingback chair and wiggled into place, propping her feet on the bed.

Two hours passed and Tessa still couldn’t fall asleep. She tried to curl to the side, scrunch down, take her legs down and lean back, but nothing worked. Chase hadn’t moved after conquering the bed and a soft snore started soon after. But around midnight, Chase began to toss and turn, and then seemed to be agitated, mumbling something that Tessa didn’t really care to understand. Obviously a man like the captain would have nightmares from time to time.
Serves him right, s
he thought without sympathy.

Quietly she tip toed into the bathroom to get a drink when she heard Chase start to speak. He called out a woman’s name. Christina. Tessa stood in the doorway of the bathroom and watched Chase become more restless, rolling from side to side, yelling for Christina to be careful, Christina watch out, Christina don’t do it, until his voice grew louder and more troubled. Tessa gingerly came to the side of the bed where Chase had rolled. Even in the ribbons of light that came through the cracked curtain, Tessa could see that perspiration had formed on Chase’s forehead.

When the words “My God! No!” came out in a near scream, Tessa reached over and gently touched Chase on his shoulder.

“Captain Hunter?” she whispered. “Captain Hunter,” she repeated as her hand firmly shook his shoulder. “You’re having a…”

In a split second Chase grabbed Tessa, throwing her on her back, next to him. Before she could scream, Chase was on top on her with one large hand wrapped around her throat, murder in his wild brown eyes. She tried to buck him off, knowing he might still be asleep. When she landed a fist on his face, Chase blinked, releasing his grip.

“Chase!” she cried. “It’s me! Tessa! You’re having a bad dream.”