“Was that the boss?” Dusty asked.
“Yes.” Sunny checked the hallway again. “Assistant Director Brockway saw Sergio outside his office and found out about the attack. Now he wants to talk to Lucy.” She shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. “I guess she gets a trip to the agency after all. I don’t understand why this can’t wait until she’s better.”
“I thought her CT scan was clear.”
“It was, but that doesn’t mean she should act like she’s healthy. She’s not. Lucy could get dizzy and lose her balance, have nausea, or she could develop a lung infection from being exposed to the re-circulated hospital air.” Sunny strode over to the door, but before she went through she turned and said with a lowered voice, “I need to stay with her and watch her for any signs of regression and for those foreign agents who want to kill her. She could’ve been killed this morning. It would’ve been my fault. I let her down. I’m not going to do it again.”
Dusty rested his hand on the small of Sunny’s back, whispering, “I think I might take that vacation now.”
~*~
The hot water beat down Lucy’s back as she tipped her hair under the pulsing stream to rinse out the conditioner. Sunny told her to get ready to be discharged, and then she would have to meet with the new assistant director of the west sector, a man named Brockway. He’d asked for the meeting, and Lucy didn’t like it. She’d turned in her reports, but she supposed he wanted an explanation in person for having to destroy the film. Maybe he even wanted an apology.
If Lucy could swing it, she’d talk her way onto that mission as Gabe’s partner. If Brockway didn’t agree, then she’d go and hunt those agents down on her own. Going on the offensive seemed like the only logical thing to do. Well, maybe.
Lucy lathered up her leg and used the razor Johnny had bought for her. He’d surprised her with a basket of products including shaving articles, a toothbrush with flavored toothpaste, and other essentials. They smelled a lot better than the non-scented basics the hospital had in the bathroom.
“Are you okay in there?”
Lucy stuck her head out the side of the shower curtain. “What are you doing in here?”
Johnny’s gaze drifted down from her face to her bare shoulder. “I was just checking to make sure you didn’t pass out or anything.”
A sudden wave of desire pushed through her at his attention. “I’m fine,” Lucy said tenderly. “You can stop worrying about me.”
“If you need anything, just let me know.”
Lucy closed the curtain, smiling. “Does Sunny know you’re in here?”
“She’s otherwise occupied with Dusty.”
“Have they known each other very long?”
“They’ve been practically inseparable since they met four days ago.”
“Wow! Your friend seems rather smitten with my doctor.”
“Doesn’t he though? I’ve known him since I first came onto the department, and I think this is the first time he’s really fallen in love.”
Lucy looked outside the curtain again, her hair dripping onto the linoleum floor. “You think he’s in love after only four days?” Johnny moved to where he stood only inches in front of her. Longing pulsed through her body. With the way his dark brown eyes glistened when he gazed at her, she suspected his emotions were very close to the surface. He didn’t say anything before he leaned in and kissed her, his hand caressing her wet arm. When he pulled back, he said something that sent her heart racing.
“I don’t think time has anything to do with how the heart feels.”
“I think you may be right,” Lucy said, slightly breathlessly.
“You better finish up with your shower.” Johnny’s fingers ran lightly down to her elbow, raising goose-bumps along every inch of skin he touched. “I’ll wait for you in your room. Sunny agreed to let me drive you to your meeting.”
Lucy closed the curtain. “Oh, I don’t want to go.”
“Why not? Do you think you’re going to get fired?”
“I don’t think so, but I have butterflies the size of sparrows in my stomach.”
“Are you nauseous?”
“No. Just … anxious.” Lucy turned off the water and stuck her hand out. “Towel, please.”
Johnny handed her a bath towel. “Are you sure? We need to watch out for signs of nausea.”
“I’m fine.” Lucy stuck her hand out again. “Another towel, please.”
“What did you do with the last one?”
“I used it to wrap my hair.”
“Oh.” Johnny passed another towel around the curtain. “Here.” When Lucy took it, he asked, “Why do you suppose your boss wants to talk to you?”
“I think he’s angry with me.”
“Because of the film?”
“Yes,” Lucy said, drawing out the word like a long sigh.
“But you did what you had to do to stop something very bad from happening.”
Lucy slid back the curtain and stepped out of the shower with the towel wrapped around her body. “Think about it, Johnny. How could I have known something like that was going to happen?”
“We saw them”—he stopped and lifted his hands, palms up, in an attempt to weigh his words—“move next to us and pull a gun? And I … heroically slammed on the brakes, making them miss us by a hair’s breadth. Then you …” Johnny stopped and pinched his brows together.
“Coming up with a good lie isn’t easy, is it?”
Johnny dropped his hands down. “No.”
“Mac was very good at it—an expert,” Lucy crossed her arms over her stomach. “He had a lot of practice.”
Johnny stepped closer and slid his arms around Lucy’s bare shoulders, pulling her close. “I’m sorry, Lu.”
“A lot of our colleagues looked up to him because of it,” she whispered.
“I’m sure he sounded very heroic because of you.” He tightened his embrace.
Lucy moved her arms around Johnny’s back and rested her face against his neck. “After a while, his missions became more treacherous when he took bigger risks.”
“He knew you were there to save him.” Johnny let out a heavy breath into her wet hair. “I’m sorry, Lu, but I’m not sure I would’ve liked your husband for putting you in that much danger.”
Lucy wasn’t so sure she liked him at times either.
“It’s about a twenty-minute drive from here.” Lucy set the basket of bath products on the floorboard next to her feet. “And, please, don’t take the freeway.”
Johnny laughed. “I agree.” He started the truck’s engine and slid the gear into reverse. “By the way,” he said as he backed out of the parking spot, “I have all of your things from your hotel room in my garage. I didn’t think it would be a good idea to leave them unattended while you were in the hospital.”
Lucy moaned. “Oh, no! How did you find enough room for my stuff in all that mess?”
He put the truck into drive. “Yeah, well, I thought you would say something like that, so I had the Salvation Army come in and take all those boxes away. You can even see the washer and dryer now.”
“Wow, you really did?” Lucy sat forward and got a better view of his face, just to see if he was serious. “Did you go through them first?” She suddenly remembered her snooping.
Johnny shook his head. “No. I figured if I hadn’t needed anything out of them since my divorce, then I probably didn’t want it any longer.” He took her hand. “But I did help load the truck, and I saw the tape on one of the boxes had been cut open.” Glancing in her direction, he asked, “Is there anything you want to ask me?”
His fingers were wrapped through hers, reminding Lucy how their lives have been intertwined since he first touched her on the staircase. She wanted to be honest with him, so she asked the hard question even when her first thought was to give him his privacy.
“How did you lose your little girl?”
“Fair question.” He tightened his grip on her hand. “Natalie and I lived together for a couple of years while we were going through Cal State University.” He took in a cleansing breath. “I asked her to marry me our senior year. We had a simple wedding on the beach that summer after graduation. Nat told me she was pregnant four months after that, and I—” He sighed. “I went out and bought stuff, in pink, and in blue, and in purple, and in yellow.” He gazed over at Lucy again. “You only opened the pink box. Anyway …”
Lucy waited and watched a muscle in Johnny’s jaw twitch. He must be clenching his teeth while he worked through his emotions. Sadness touched her heart, and then remorse at what might’ve happened, knowing the packages were never opened.
“Natalie was studying to be a psychologist. She said she needed to get her doctoral degree to stand out from the crowd and that having children didn’t fit in with her plans.”
“Oh, no,” Lucy whispered.
“Nat told me to take back all the things I had bought for the baby. She … had an abortion without ever asking me how I felt. Like I didn’t count.”
Compassion filled Lucy’s chest ’til it felt like her ribs would shatter, and heated tears pushed to the edge of her eyes. Lucy couldn’t find any words. She had no doubt that if it could have been possible for him to have had carried the child he would have, in a heartbeat—a child’s heartbeat. With as nurturing and loving as he had been to Lucy, he would have made a spectacular father.
“I tried to make our marriage work after that, but she … she wouldn’t let me touch her again. She withdrew from me, not just physically, but emotionally, too. Nat left me two months later and moved to Denver. Now she’s married again, and she wrote on her Facebook wall last month that she’s pregnant.”
“I’m sorry,” Lucy finally choked out, squeezing his hand. She felt his responding fingers wrap around her hand tighter.
“Me too.”
Lucy let Johnny concentrate on the downtown traffic while she tried to control her anger at a woman she’d never met. She hadn’t liked Monica when she’d lied to her the other morning, but she was a kitten with tiny claws compared to the shredding talons his ex-wife indiscriminately used to tear out Johnny’s heart.
Watching out the side view mirror, Lucy wiped a tear from her cheek and quietly said, “Cripes, not now, not again.”
“What is it?”
“We’re being followed.”
He looked out the rearview mirror. “Which car is it? Is it a black Suburban again?”
Lucy pointed at the next corner. “Turn here.” She kept her eyes on the car behind them. “No,” she said when he took the turn. “It’s a light blue, two door sedan. A Lexus, I think.”
Johnny let out a deep breath. “That’s Sunny’s car. Didn’t she tell you?”
Lucy dropped his hand and twisted around in her seat. She was able to see in through the windshield of the car when it turned the corner after them. An attractive woman wearing oversized sunglasses was driving, and a big, handsome man with short hair was in the passenger side. Dusty’s hulky profile was very distinctive. Lucy relaxed into her seat. “I guess I forgot Sunny would follow us.”
“Sunny’s worried about you.” Johnny took her hand again. “Almost as much as I am.”
“But I feel okay—except this headache.”
“Maybe that isn’t the only reason she’s worried about you. You were attacked this morning, remember?”
“Yeah, like I could forget.”
“Sunny told me she’d keep you safe, and I believe her.”
“I know she felt like she let me down, especially after Sergio called in his report about the syringe.”
“Sodium pentothal, otherwise known as truth serum,” Johnny said. “Add cocaine in the mix, and it made a deadly cocktail. I’m glad that woman wasn’t able to inject any of it into you. Even your strong heart wouldn’t have lasted very long with that in your bloodstream.”
Lucy leaned her head against the neck rest and watched Johnny drive, appreciating his warm hand around hers. The strength she felt in his secure grip made her wonder if they might have a future together, as a couple. He’d hinted his feelings about her. He’d even made fairly drastic changes in his life because of her.
“No wonder Sunny’s shadowing me so closely. I think I appreciate it. Besides, I might need her help—”
She didn’t get to finish her sentence before a phantom icy wind swept across her face and ripped her breath away.
The world quit moving around him and sank into the dead, flat black, white, and reflective chrome Johnny remembered from the last time. The sounds of the busy traffic disappeared. He could see himself as still as a colorless photograph. Everything drained away to the same monotones grays as him, except up ahead where a huge apartment complex was still draped in the most vibrant colors.
Johnny knew something terrible, something deadly, was going to happen to a lot of people in that building.
The perspective suddenly changed. He wasn’t in the truck on the road any longer. He stood in a windowless hallway where a door had the number 201 painted on it in gold, and just as quickly he stood inside an apartment where a man was lying on a couch, asleep.
The rooms looked normal, nothing out of place. Things were neat, tidy. There was a single empty bowl with a spoon next to it on the end of the kitchen table, and the stove had a sauce pan on a burner—except there wasn’t a flame under the pan and the knob was turned. In the next instant he saw the bottom of the water heater light up like a flame thrower, igniting the room’s air and simultaneously blowing out every window, the explosion raining glass-infused fire out onto the street below.