Chance (28 page)

She slapped him lightly
on the cheek for teasing her and they both laughed.

“I want you very badly,
right now, Charlotte, but I really need to sleep in the guest room tonight. Maybe
we could have a sleepover at
my
place next time?”

Charlotte swallowed,
smiled and nodded her head in agreement. She wondered if that meant they might
finally make love. The idea was incredibly exciting for her.

They got out of the bed
and kissed passionately, once again, before she led him down the hall to the guest
room. As she climbed the stairs alone, still tingling from their goodnight
kiss, she couldn’t help but wish Brett wasn’t such a gentleman.

The night was cold and windy;
the breeze cut through Charlotte’s thin jacket as she pulled it closed and secured
all of the buttons. She wished she’d brought a scarf and a thermos of something
hot to drink. Her stomach growled. That was another thing she should've done
before they left; had something to eat.

As it happened, she’d
been far too nervous and excited even to think about food, let alone eat any.
Now though, finding herself crouched behind a low wall with her thighs aching
from the awkward position she was in, and the wind whipping past her ankles,
she was beginning to think otherwise.

This wasn’t all that
exciting. There was way too much waiting around, especially since they’d gotten
the time wrong. Either that or Logan had changed his plans. When they’d
arrived, Logan's car had still been there and the lights were on in the house,
so the two of them had taken shelter across the road. It was a perfect spot for
them to hide and watch the house safely.

“This was where I'd
waited earlier,” Brett had informed her as they ducked down. Charlotte had
watched the house, staring continually, until she felt as if she'd go cross-eyed.

***

Meeting Brett’s friend
Jim, earlier that evening, had been the most interesting experience so far. As
he'd explained, they’d been in the army together. However, unlike Brett, who
looked as if he couldn’t harm a fly most of the time, Jim definitely
looked
and
acted as if he’d been in the forces. He maintained an obsessively neat army
cut, stood in a military stance and walked with catlike grace.

Despite his rather
intimidating appearance, he was a nice guy. Charlotte liked him immediately. He
had a great sense of humor. He and Brett were laughing and joking together as
soon as they walked through the door. Jim's wife was sweet and likable, as well.
She'd made them coffee and brought it to Jim’s office, as they prepared to
listen to the recordings. On the walls were various awards and honors he'd been
given throughout his service with the police. He explained in a relaxed, easy
manner how he'd been coaxed into joining the police force after leaving the
army.

“It was my brother who'd
suggested it. He was in the DEA.”

He stood up and reached
towards the wall, taking down a framed photograph of a man who looked
strikingly similar to him. Charlotte could see the family resemblance. Tall and
stocky, but with muscles, rather than fat. They were both well built, with
heavily set jaws, thick eyebrows and jet-black hair.

“At first, I wasn’t
convinced,” he continued. “I thought I’d find something else but…I was still
dithering. I'd just been discharged and had nothing to do, no real direction in
life. To be honest, I was a bit depressed. Then Jeff, here…he got shot.
Killed.”

“Oh my God...” Charlotte
murmured quietly, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Jim shook his
head. “He died doing what he loved and fighting for what he believed in. He'd
been fighting against the drug trade; got taken out by some cartel or another
down in Mexico while he was working a job.”

The room fell silent as
the information was allowed to digest. Brett reached out and took her hand,
giving it a small squeeze. No doubt, he’d heard the story before, as he didn’t
seem surprised. However, he was sensitive enough to understand it was shocking
for Charlotte to hear. This was made more intense now that she had indirect
ties with the drug trade, as well as having people she cared about who had
their lives on the line.

“It was his death that
made the decision for me,” Jim said with a nod. “He said I’d be good at it,
so….I signed up, trained…and yeah, he was right. I did really well for myself. We
even broke up the gang who’d been responsible for his death, working together
in partnership with the force in Mexico. That was a proud day.” He smiled.

“I bet,” she agreed. “I’m
sure he’d be very proud of you.”

“Anyway.” He slapped his
hand loudly on the desk. “That was how it happened. Now, here I am, ten years
later. I'm retired and helping my young friend here, the good doctor. Ha!” He
gave a short laugh, and clapped Brett on the back.

“I hope you don’t mind me
asking,” Charlotte began hesitantly. “But…I’ve been wondering… You and Brett
are…well…there’s an age difference, so… I wondered how you met. Were you in the
army at the same time?”

 “Yeah, you’re right.
There’s twenty years between Brett and myself. He was just a young
whippersnapper when he signed up, and I was only two years away from finishing and
starting my new life in the police force. Our time overlapped, so we knew each
other for two years.”

“It was enough time for
him to have made a lasting impression on me,” Brett interrupted, picking up the
story.

“When I first signed up,
I was young and scared. I'm not ashamed to admit it. Jim was a higher rank than
I was, so I looked up to him. I respected and admired him. He never treated me
differently, didn’t look down on me or view me as anything but his equal. I
don’t know what it was, but…anyway; we just hit it off immediately,” Brett
said.

His openness never failed
to impress Charlotte; it made her love him that much more.

“Yeah, we did. I think I
needed someone to talk to at that time. I’d just found out Betsy had cancer,
and…things weren’t going so great. She beat it as you can see. She’s doing
great now. Still, it was a difficult time. Of course, there was the fact that
young Brett here saved my life.”

“I wouldn’t call it
that,” Brett was blushing.

“Oh my God,” Charlotte
gasped, excited. “You did, didn’t you? You saved his life. Out there on the
field?”

“He sure did,” Jim
chuckled. “I’d been shot, brought back to the base. He pulled out the bullet,
fixed me up and gave me a blood transfusion.”

“It was nothing. I was
just doing my job,” protested Brett.

“You saved my life.”

“You wouldn’t have died.
It wasn’t a fatal injury.”

“You saved my life. Why
can’t you just accept a fucking compliment when I give you one, you little
shit?”

They both laughed and
Brett held up his hands. “Alright, alright.”

Jim chuckled and took a
sip of his coffee. “Now, I suppose it was the tapes you came to hear, huh?” He
looked at Charlotte, with a more serious expression than before.

“Um…yeah,” she frowned,
the relaxed atmosphere tensing up again, as she worried about what she'd hear
on them.

“As I was explaining to
Brett,” Jim began. “Most of the time, all I pick up in the house is the TV and
background noise. When I play things back at the end of the day, I fast forward
through all that. See this screen here...” He pointed at the monitor on his
desk. “This shows me the sound waves. When I see something peaking, I’ll stop
fast forwarding and listen. More often than not, it’s because he’s on the
phone. I figured this was the recording you wanted to hear.”

He hit the space bar on
his computer and the line began to jump across the screen from left to right,
as the audio blasted from the speakers connected to the monitor. Logan’s cold,
angry voice sent a chill down Charlotte’s spine. She tried to brace herself, but
it was surprisingly upsetting to hear him.

“I know she’s at her
parents, fucking stupid bitch hasn’t learned from the last time. She’ll learn
this time.”

There was a silent pause
as he listened to whoever was on the other end of the conversation.

“Of course, I am, I
haven't forgotten about that bitch. She’s mine and her parents will be taken
care of. They're never going to take her away from me again. I just need to get
this job out the way first.”

More silence, as he
listened.

“It’s the most
important one we’ve had. It has to go perfectly. There can't be any mistakes. That
includes you. Don’t fuck this one up.”

Silence.

“You’re fucking dead
if you do, you hear? Good. Is everything in place?”

Silence.

“You’ve spoken to our
contact? Good. Speak to him again before the weekend. Nothing can go wrong, you
hear me? Nothing. We’re gonna make millions from this.”

There was a click and
some unidentifiable background noises before Jim hit the space bar again,
pausing the recording.

“Well,” Jim said,
clearing his throat. “You get the general idea.”

“Yeah.” Charlotte nodded,
staring down at the floor.

Brett was still holding
her hand. He gave it another squeeze and leaned in close to her. “Are you okay?”
he asked gently. “We’re both with you, remember? We’re going to fix this.”

“Yeah,” she nodded again.
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

It affected her greatly
to hear Logan talking about her like that. Also, her parents. That scared her
more than his plans for her. Even though she should've already known how cold,
heartless and hideous a monster he was, she still shuddered and pulled her coat
further around her arms. She cuddled into Brett’s warmth, as he embraced her.

The others remained
quiet, giving her a moment to get herself together and gather her thoughts.
They just averted their gaze from Charlotte and Brett and silently sipped their
coffee. Jim closed down the software on his computer.

“So…what’s the plan?” She
asked finally, clearing her throat and speaking up.

Jim gave her a small
smile of encouragement. “As you heard from the recording, he’s got a big job
planned that'll be happening this Sunday. I’ve been doing some research into
the cartels in the area; suspected shipments coming in and out…”

“So it
is
drugs?”
she interrupted.

Jim pursed his lips, then
slowly nodded. “It’s drugs, yes.”

“We need to try to
collect more evidence, if possible,” Brett announced, rather eagerly.

Charlotte could see and
hear his underlying excitement and realized he was actually enjoying all of this.
He was getting some kind of a thrill from it. He really was a mild mannered
doctor with another side to him.

“Look at you,” she smiled.
“You’re like an excited schoolboy.”

“Sorry,” he said,
reigning in his enthusiasm. “A bit inappropriate, but...”

“It’s fine, Brett. Just
be yourself.”

“It’s just that… I guess
in some ways, I do miss the thrill of working in a war zone. I guess hooking up
with Jim has brought it all back to the surface.”

“It isn’t exciting to work
in a hospital?” she looked at him, a little amused. “Saving lives? Being a hero
every day?”

“It is, yeah,” he nodded.
“But not in the same way. It’s not…it’s not dangerous in the hospital. I guess
I'm an adrenalin junkie, to an extent.”

“Oh, so it’s the danger
you like, is it? I see.” She said, half teasing and half sincerely trying to
understand him.

“I suppose so,” he
admitted with a shrug.

For some reason, the
thought turned her on. She wasn’t worried a hunger for danger would lead Brett
down the same path as Logan or anything. If anything, he was more likely to
follow in Jim’s footsteps. She knew he was intelligent and she trusted he had
enough sense and self-preservation, to reach out to the authorities when it
became too much.

***

That was how they found
themselves, approximately thirty minutes later, in their current state. They
were crouched down behind a wall, freezing and hungry, across the road from her
old house. Bushes and trees sheltered them on either side, so no one could spot
them. The property they were on was vacant and for sale.

Initially, she'd felt a
sudden rush of excitement at the thought of it. She was on a stakeout with her
very capable, adrenalin junkie of a boyfriend. A stakeout to take down the
worst bad guy she knew; to save her parents' lives, as well as her own.
However, after about a half hour of absolutely nothing going on, she was
beginning to feel very bored.

She sighed and dropped
her gaze away from the house, snuggling against Brett’s shoulder to keep warm.
He looked to be concentrating deeply, perhaps using some old army technique to
maintain attention, although she couldn’t imagine he did much of that as a
doctor. Maybe he did.

She remembered him
talking about the many long, lonely hours he'd spent overseas. Times when there
was nothing for him to do except stare into the great depths of the desert and
wait; wait for the next casualty to be brought to him. There was a sudden rush
as the soldiers returned home from the battlefield and needed treatment.

That was how he’d
explained it. Hours of idleness and boredom followed by hours of chaos, hard
work and excitement. She could just imagine him, sitting in the sweltering heat
of some tiny Iraqi village, staring into the distance as he was right now,
staring and waiting. Except now, it was very far away from any dessert and it
was cold.

“Brett,” she whispered
his name quietly.

“Hmm?” He responded
equally as quietly, without taking his eyes away from the house.