INVITING FIRE (A Sydney Rye Novel, #6) (8 page)

Merl was wearing all black, his hair pulled back into a bun at the top of his head. "Hi Merl," I said, slowing my pace and walking up to him. He did not smile but just squatted down and began to run his hands over Blue, checking him the same way I had.

"He's fine," I said.

Merl finished his own investigation and then stood up again, his dark eyes in shadow. "He was outside the safe zone. We are going to have to retrain him on that."

"He was after someone, Merl."

"Or this is another example of him disobeying you." His voice was tight and I could see the muscles in his neck straining.

"It's been months," I said, "and he never would set off that alarm if he was not sure. I know that bark. I know what he was saying." I realized my fists were clenched and loosened them.

"What did you see?" he demanded.

I shook my head. "Blue tore up the ground around the tree. But I heard a zip-line. Is it possible there is someone out there? Someone setting up the zip-lines again?"

“What else? Lightning?”

I nodded.

"So you're still seeing things?" He didn't wait for me to respond. "You said you were ready for watch duty."

"I am," I said. "I'm ready for more." Merl just shook his head. "I didn't lie to you, Merl. The visions, the lightning, the thunder. It doesn't affect me. I can tell what it is now."

"Going off the trail, into the jungle without permission."

"There was someone out there."

"And we have ways of dealing with that. And they do not include you leading your own mission of two into the depths of the jungle." He was yelling at me. Merl was yelling. I'd never seen him this upset before. "You decided to put Tanya in danger. For what?"

I pressed my lips together, feeling ashamed.

"What if there had been an entire team of armed men out there? Wouldn't it be better to wait for them to come to us? Make them engage our defenses?"

"You're right. But I didn't make her come with me."

Merl threw up his hands and turned away from me. His shoulders were tense. I could see the lines of them under his black T-shirt where the electric light fell on him. He took a deep breath. "They would follow you anywhere," he said without facing me. "Everyone here would." His voice was calm again.

I reached out and touched his shoulder. It felt burning hot. Merl spun away from me, turning so that I could see his face. "Hey, it's okay," I said, holding out my hands palm forward. "You all right?"

"I'm fine," he said. "Let's continue this tomorrow. I apologize that I lost my temper." His voice was calm again but I saw a muscle tick in his jaw.

"I'm working hard on it, Merl," I said.

"I know you are, Sydney."

I
got back to my villa without running into anyone else. They were all up at Lenox's lecture. I kicked off my shoes at the door and Blue padded into the living room and over to the kitchen for some water. I followed him, filling a mug from the fridge door and gulping it down like medicine.

"Time for a shower," I told Blue.

He followed me into my bedroom where I unbuttoned my shirt and peeled it off my sticky skin. I'd worked up a sweat on our run. The hair at the base of my neck stuck to my damp skin until I pulled my undershirt off, then it just stuck straight out. I pulled off my socks and tossed them on the dirty shirts before wiggling out of my pants.

I turned on the shower and didn't wait for the water to get warm before stepping under the cold spray. My skin jumped, prickling and paling against the onslaught of cold water. But I needed it. The heat inside of me seemed to never die down. I'd felt the same on Merl's shoulder this evening. There was something going on with him. He never yelled. There was something bothering that man. And it wasn't Malina's death. Grief he could handle.

The water began to warm and I lathered up my short hair, washing it clean, feeling the balls of foam slide over my body toward the drain. Using a sponge, I scrubbed myself clean, working on my finger nails, getting in between my toes.

When I stepped out of the shower I felt raw but good, cleansed. I grabbed a towel and dried my hair and ran the rough white rectangle over my legs and arms before wrapping it around my body.

Steam followed me out of the bathroom, adding to the already hot and humid environment. Blue waited on his bed. His eyes followed me as I crossed the room and opened my balcony doors, letting in the night air. I took a deep breath and stared into the jungle. But with the lights on in my room it just looked like a dense wall of soot-black nothingness. Only the sounds emanating from the darkness gave any idea of how vast the jungle really was.

I booted up my laptop. While it loaded I went over to my dresser and opened my T-shirt drawer. I pushed the clothing aside but didn't see the memory stick. I pulled out an armload of stuff and moved the rest around but didn't see it. My heart started thumping. Could someone have taken it? It felt like such an intimate attack. Like a piece of me had been stolen. As I dropped the clothing back into the dresser the thumb drive fell out of them, knocked against the drawer's side and clattered to the tile floor.

I let out a sigh of relief and a small laugh before picking it up. I plugged it into the USB port and, picking up my computer, moved onto the bed, closing the mosquito net around me. Blue began to snore softly as I opened the file and loaded the first day. I watched the sun rise, slowly filling the room with light. My body still under the blankets, eyes closed. The image was in gray scale. Which seemed to smooth everything out. There were no sharp contrasts in the footage. My face looked relaxed. More relaxed then I'd ever seen it while I was awake, staring at myself in a mirror. More relaxed than any photo I'd ever taken.

I watched myself wake up when the nurse came in with my breakfast. Fast forwarding I skipped to the part where Dan came in. He held my hand and I could see his lips moving but I didn't know what he was saying. Dan looked tired, the bags under his eyes darker than they must have looked in person. His hair, a wonderful hay blonde in person, appeared dull and gray on the screen. He left and I stared out the window.

Leaning toward the screen I tried to see my eyes better. Was I thinking? Was it possible not to? My brain felt like it was constantly thinking, judging, making decisions. And yet there I was, staring off into nothingness. Of course, there was no way to tell what was going on inside of me. I had no memory and the me in that image was gone. As gone as the me sitting on this bed in Costa Rica had been while that me was laying in that hospital. A shiver ran through me as I wondered about that. How could "she" be gone? Would "she" come back?

I fast forwarded again until Robert Maxim walked through the door. His face was creased with worry as he stood over my body. I paused the video and zoomed in, trying to decipher his expression. It felt like I'd watched him watch me a million times. The man had visited me every day while I was under his care in the recovery wing of Fortress Global's Miami headquarters. Every damn day Robert Maxim showed up in my hospital room.

Strange enough that the man I considered my enemy protected me, worked to keep me healthy, and visited me. Here is the really strange part. I smiled when I saw him. It was a lazy, unfocused happiness but that girl in the bed, the one inhabiting my body, some part of me smiled when she saw Bobby Maxim.

I watched the screen as he reached out and smoothed hair away from my brow. There was no denying the tenderness in his touch. It was his smell I'd picked up in the jungle tonight. His smell that haunted my dreams. It was Robert Maxim who made me yearn for pain and hurt. Who made me feel alive and alert while I slumbered. Who left my days filled with aches and regret. I shut the computer lid, and covered my eyes, taking in deep breaths. He was making me crazy, or I'd already gone insane. Either way, I had this suspicion, this very nauseating fear, that as I laid here in my towel on my bed, that Robert Maxim was outside in the jungle surrounding our camp. Waiting for me to find him.

I opened my messenger app and sent Dan a note.

Where is Robert Maxim?

Honduras, why?
Came his answer moments later.

My fingers wavered over the keys. Because I thought I smelled him in the jungle, sounded too insane.
Are you sure?
I typed instead.

He sent me a video clip from CNN. It had the date and time in the corner. It was from this morning. I hit play. Robert "Bobby" Maxim leaned back in a stiff blue upholstered chair. His left ankle rested on his right knee. His elbows rested on the chair's arms, his fingers pressed together into a steeple. Bobby wore a beautiful suit, the blues and greens subtly running through the gray brought out those colors in his hazel eyes.

"Do you believe Joyful Justice is a threat to international security?" an off-screen female voice asked.

Robert's lips lifted into a small smile. "Of course, who doesn't?" he answered.

"So you think we should be worried."

"I never worry, Melissa, I prepare."

She laughed and the camera angle changed so that I could see her sitting next to him, a coffee table in front of them creating a triangle. Melissa was blonde, her hair sprayed into submission, forming a bob-shaped helmet around her head. "I guess that makes sense for a man in your position." Robert nodded slightly. "Is Joyful Justice a major topic at the Central American Security conference this year?"

"Of course."

"I would think you'd have a special interest then."

The screen closed in on Robert's face again, his eyebrows rose slightly, one higher than the other. "Why's that, Melissa?"

"Many of the corporations that Fortress Global International provides security for have been targeted." There was a small tick in Robert's neck, right at the collar of his creamy white shirt, but his eyes stayed passive. "There was the revolt against Sunrise Oil in the Amazon, the rumors of offshore accounts being raided," Melissa continued.

Robert laughed, just a little, not to be condescending, just because he couldn't help himself. Or at least that was the impression he gave. The man was a chameleon. He could make you see whatever he wanted you to see. "Melissa, you're asking me about unsubstantiated rumors. Next you'll be asking me about aliens." He smiled, his eyes twinkling in the studio light.

The shot opened up again and I could see a blush creeping up Melissa's neck. She kept a tight smile on her face though. "Tell me then, you've never attended this conference before and now you're the keynote speaker. Does that have anything to do with Fortress Global's approaching IPO?

"I've just been waiting for an invitation," Bobby replied. The clip ended then. A message from Dan popped up.
Are you okay?

Yeah, you?

Yes.

And this was what was left of us, I thought, staring at the screen. Dan and I had lived together in a one-room bungalow in Goa for months. We'd fought side by side. Made crazy passionate love. Read paperbacks with our elbows touching and our fan clicking loudly above us. So much intimacy and now this. Yes, just yes. It was my fault. I should have called when Malina died. It was wrong that I didn't respond to him. But I couldn't stand it. Any of it.

E
verything I know tells me wine is good for you, and I needed a glass. I wanted to sit on the deck and stare out into the night and listen to the sounds around me and not think.

I found an open bottle of merlot in the fridge that I'd started with Cynthia. We both agreed that in this heat nothing but chilled wine would do, no matter the color. I poured an inelegant amount into a glass and was making my way toward the deck still wearing only my towel, Blue padding beside me, when there was a knock on the door.

Cynthia, I thought, turning around. "It's open," I called.

The door opened and Lenox stepped into the entry. I stopped short, the wine sloshing out of the glass and onto my hand. The towel slipped from my breasts. I grabbed at it, clutching it to my chest before it could fall completely away, but it unraveled and hung from my fist, exposing most of my body. Blue sat next to me, looking up, wondering what I was doing.

I stopped breathing and time seemed to freeze. Lenox smiled, knowingly, kind and understanding. As if this kind of thing happened to him all the time. He turned around to close the door while I hustled over to the coffee table and put my glass down, then used both hands to fix my towel tightly. Lenox turned slowly around, keeping his gaze toward the ground, starting with my feet and traveling slowly, luxuriously up my body. As though he was savoring each inch. "Did you teach that look tonight?" I asked when he finally reached my eyes, trying in vain to recover some dignity.

"I tried," he smiled. "But it's hard to convey such hunger and keep it under control."

Lenox waited politely by the door to be invited further in. "Oh, come in" I said and picked up my glass of wine, keeping the other hand tight on my towel. "I'll get dressed."

He nodded and began toward me. I kept the couch between us as I hurried to my room. Blue followed me in, flopping down onto his bed in the corner and watching me. I threw my towel onto the bed and cringed looking at it. Oh, god, I thought, this is what they mean by a panty dropper. Lenox was a god-damn towel dropper.

I turned to my drawers and froze. I didn't know what to wear. I downed a quick sip of wine, followed closely by another. Then I blindly grabbed into my panty drawer and pulled out a pair of Dan's boxers. I stared at them crunched in my hand. I heard Blue move and looked over to see him sitting up on his bed, his head cocked to the side in a questioning look. I pushed the boxers back into the drawer and pulled out a normal pair of white panties. Then I pulled on my cut off jean shorts and a black tank top.

Before stepping back out into the living room I took a look in the mirror that hung on the back of the closet door. My body was tan and toned. The shorts were loose and worn, casual but sexy. The tank top showed off my strong, sun-kissed shoulders. The humidity in the jungle put a wave in my hair, curling the strands at my temples into wispy little ringlets. I looked pretty and healthy, young almost. But never sweet. Not with my hard gray eyes and the white scar that ran through the skin beneath my left one. Calling me cute would be like calling a lioness a kitten. I picked up my glass of wine and took another quick sip. Blue walked to the door anticipating my next move.