Duty Bound (1995) (22 page)

"Let me think a minute," Ted said, lifting his hand. "All right, I got it. We drive our two vehicles out nice and slow and easy. We find a nice secluded spot and hide the weapons. Once we're clean, we get the keys from Ramon then come back and get the rental truck."

Glenn motioned toward the office. "Once the feds leave I'll check us all out of the motel."

"No," Ted said quickly. "If we check out now it would look too suspicious. If the feds know about the missing money, they'll be looking for the crew that took it."

"Ted's right," Virgil said, patting Glenn's shoulder. "We gotta stay here again tonight and be cool."

"But what about the money?" Glenn asked.

"Most of it will still be there," Ted said as he opened the van door. "Ramon said they were going to take it out a million at a time, remember? Come on, we gotta hide our weapons and get those keys."

Atlanta It was a little after noon as Ashley sat in the Marriott's lounge holding a gin and tonic. Eli walked in, saw her sitting at a corner table, and sat down beside her. He handed her a card key. "Your room number is 204. I'm in 206."

Seemingly ignoring him, Ashley raised her hand toward a passing waitress. "Another one, please, but make it a double." She shifted her eyes to Eli. "I'm going to get myself drunk, Tanner. When I get where I can't sit up, just take me to my room, okay?"

Eli saw the warning signs in her eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked softly.

She lowered her eyes to the empty glass. "I can smell the blood on my clothes. They washed them, but I . ."

He saw the tears coming and reached over, taking her hand. "Come on, let's go shopping and get you out of those things." Eli stood and took her arm to help her to her feet but felt her trembling.

She looked up at him as if in terrible pain. "I'm not very good at this, am I? I should be stronger . . . I'm an FBI agent, right?"

"You're doing better than most I know, Sutton, but maybe you should talk to the shrink again."

She tried to stand but sank back into the chair. "Give me a minute. . . . I didn't like her, Tanner. She acted like she understood, but she didn't. You understand, though, don't you?"

Sitting down beside her, Eli put his arm over her shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze. "Yeah, I understand, pard.

It'll take a while but you won't think about it as much. There was nothing you could have done. It happened; nothing will change it."

"Paul was a good guy, Tanner. I really liked him."

"I know."

"I had feelings for him when we were in Quantico, but I never told him or did anything to make him think we weren't just good friends. I always regretted not telling him.

When he looked at me yesterday that first time, I knew, I felt it, you know? I knew he felt the same way."

Eli squeezed her shoulder again but didn't speak. She stared blankly at the glass and shook her head. "It's not fair, Tanner. It's like I'm being punished for even thinking something would have happened between us. He . . . he was married, Tanner . . . and I didn't care. I thought . . . no, that's not right. I didn't think. I was so high from his reaction to seeing me, I didn't even think about his wife and children. I didn't care about them. I only cared about me and what I thought was going to happen between Paul and me."

The waitress set the drink on the table and began to speak but saw Ashley's tears. She gave Eli a consoling look and walked away.

Ashley looked into Eli's eyes. "I'm pretty pitiful, aren't I?"

He wrinkled his brow as he handed her a cocktail napkin.

"No. You've been through a lot is all. I think once we get you some new clothes and you get your mind on other things, you'll start healing faster than you think."

"Work is your answer to fixing everything, isn't it, Tanner? I mean, you have to have it to keep going, don't you?"

"I dream, too, Sutton. I wish a lot of things were different but they're not. Work is real and it's now. Maybe one of these days I won't need it, but right now . . . yeah, it's all I've got. You ready to go?"

She stood and gave him a sad look. "I think we're both pretty pitiful, Tanner."

He put a ten-dollar bill on the table and walked her toward the door without responding. She was right, and that hurt.

Chapter 12.

Dahlonega, Georgia.

Lying on the embankment of a heavily vegetated stream bed, Ted lowered his binoculars and looked at the angry, small man beside him. "Ahh, Ramon, stop pissin' and moanin' about it. We'll just have to wait until tomorrow to hit 'em. Tonight we'll make a night recon and make any adjustments we need for tomorrow evening's score."

Ramon spoke between clenched teeth. "You're screwin' up, man. Tomorrow might be too late. The money will be gone."

"No way. The guys comin' for the money are gonna see the town is crawlin' with FBI and have to wait just like us."

Ted motioned to his watch. "It's 1600 hours, Ramon. You know we couldn't do a good recon by nightfall."

"Maybe you squids couldn't do it, but me and Virg could make the recon, man."

Ted scooted back and gave the Cuban his best glare.

"Who's runnin' this op?"

Ramon stared back for a moment before finally lowering his eyes. "You are."

"Yeah. Now tell me what ya think the best approach is."

Crawling back up to the edge of the embankment, Ramon pointed and whispered. "The crew is usin' the cabin's porch as their smokin' and jokin' area. They're eating and sleeping in the Winnebago. The best approach is from the east-too much thick vegetation to the west; they'd hear us."

Ted raised his binoculars, scanning the cabin and terrain to the east. "Yeah, I see what ya mean . . . the east is the best." He lowered his glasses and motioned to the gravel road. "What about the two sentries they posted down by the highway?"

"No sweat, man. I checked 'em out a couple of hours ago.

They're bitchin' about the heat and tellin' each other lies about how many women they've laid. They're not expecting any trouble."

Satisfied at what he saw, Ted backed up and handed Ramon the binoculars. "Okay, I'll have Virg come out and relieve you as soon as I get back. The rest of us will come out about midnight for the recon. Give me a call on the cell phone if anything changes."

Ramon nodded toward the bag Ted had brought. "Thanks for the drinks and sandwiches, man."

Ted winked as he crawled back farther. "Gotta take care of my team. See ya in an hour or so."

.

9:00 P. M., Atlanta.

Stacy Starr opened the door and smiled. "Are you always so punctual?"

Standing on the porch wearing his blazer, new shirt, and tie, and holding a bottle of wine and a small bouquet of flowers, Eli gave her an embarrassed smile. "It's been a while since I've been on a date. I wanted to get it right."

Stacy backed up and swung the door open. "Come in, Eli. I guess I should tell you it's been a long time for me, too. Don't mind the mess. I just got home a few minutes ago. Donny was true to his word and kept me informed of events; it's been a madhouse trying to keep up. Come on, let's go back to the kitchen."

Eli slowed his steps as he looked around. "It's beautiful, Miss Starr," he said, and meant it. Like the outside, the interior of the small plantation-style house was picture-perfect.

He had thumbed through Southern Living magazines while at the hospital, and he thought Stacy's place would have qualified for the cover of the next issue. The exterior of the house was all wood and painted white, with a covered veranda surrounding it. He could just see her in a bonnet, sitting in the porch swing sipping a mint julep. The inside was even better. High ceilings, lots of windows, wood floors, and Stacy Starr's classy touch everywhere. The furniture was all antique. Because fresh-cut flowers were everywhere, the foyer and front sitting room had the look and smell of a lush outdoors. He liked it, he liked it a lot, although somehow he wasn't surprised.

Stacy saw his look and came to a halt. "You like the house?"

"It's like you, Miss Starr, very warm and charming." Ahh hell, did I just say that? Damn, Tanner, it's duty, remember?

Stacy took the wine bottle from his hand with a smile and spoke with an exaggerated drawl. "My my, aren't you the one with compliments, Agent Tanner. It does make a girl's head swim. I do declare, if I didn't know better, I'd believe you were trying to woo me."

Eli couldn't help himself. He bowed and presented the flowers. "Miss Starr, a gentleman does not woo on his first date with a lovely lady such as yourself. He merely states the facts as he sees them."

She fanned herself with her hand. "My my, a gentleman indeed. My mama always warned me to beware of proper gentlemen. She said they'd steal your heart."

"Stealing is a felony, Miss Starr. I'm a federal officer and would never steal."

"In that case, I will assume I'm safe for the moment.

Come on back to the kitchen and let's see what Cecila has prepared for the occasion. I told her I wanted a special meal for a special guest."

Eli followed, telling himself to stop having such a good time.

"Eli, I would like to present Miss Cecila Thomas. She is almost my second mama."

A smiling, very, very heavy black woman wearing a flowered dress and white apron stepped forward. "Ahh now, missy . . . oh my, isn't he a handsome thing? You was right, missy, he somethin' special all right. Give me those flowers; they need to be put in water. Y'all go on out to the back veranda, now. Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes."

Eli smiled at the short, rotund woman. "It's a pleasure meeting you, Miss Cecila."

The woman winked at Stacy. "He's a gentleman, too, missy. You'd better watch yourself."

Stacy led Eli out the back door onto the veranda, where she walked to the railing and took a deep breath. "You smell that, Eli? That's the end of summer coming. . . . I do like the fall, but I always enjoy summer best."

Eli joined her and looked out over the small manicured lawn surrounded by pines and festooned with plants. "Summer is my favorite time, too, Miss Starr. I always liked nights like this as a boy. My brother and I would chase fireflies while my mama churned that ol' ice-cream maker. . . .

That was the best ice cream I've ever had."

Stacy regarded him a moment. "It's hard to imagine you as a boy, Eli. Were you a handful?"

"Not really, I was just a kid like everybody else. In those days baseball was my passion, and mama always knew where to find my brother and me--in Parker's lot shagging flies and grounders. Things were different in those days, simpler for kids, I guess. I think there was only one television station back then."

"What about your father? What did he do?"

"Dad worked for the railroad. He worked long and hard but he was always there for us. He passed away when I was fourteen. It was an accident . . . robbed us all of him. He was a good man."

Stacy touched his arm. "He would have been proud of you, Eli."

The meal was wonderful, but Eli had a hard time enjoying it because he was waiting for Stacy to start asking questions about the investigation. It was just a matter of time, he kept telling himself. Damn, I feel like a cat locked in a room with twenty old guys in rocking chairs.

After dessert, Stacy suggested they once again sit on the back porch to enjoy the evening. When Eli sat on the porch swing and she took a seat beside him, the warning bells in his head began clanging. Stacy had not once mentioned her work nor asked him any questions about his. Although he kept telling himself she was a shark, it was getting more and more difficult to think of her as one. He told himself the duty was done, he could leave, but he really didn't want to go. She was everything he had imagined in his dreams, and more. He liked listening to her talk, the homey little expressions she used, and especially her eyes. They told him everything, and that was what worried him most. They were telling him she liked his company as much as he was enjoying hers. But there was an even bigger problem. She was also sending other signals, not intentional but there nevertheless. The light touches, her closeness, and that damn intoxicating scent of hers were driving him crazy. It was heat emanating from her, pure sexual, sensual, steaming heat, and it was melting all his mental defenses. His dream was winning and he knew it.

Stacy patted his hand. "I lost you there for a moment.

What were you thinking about?"

Eli sighed and lowered his head. "I was thinking how nice this is. I was also thinking I should go."

"You're scared, aren't you?"

"Uh . . . well, I hate to admit it, but yes. I'm scared to death because I like it too much. That doesn't make sense, does it?"

She patted his hand again. "I understand because I was thinking the same thing. I think we're alike, Eli. I think it's been a long time and we're scared of what could be. My work is everything to me, but right now, sitting here like this it makes me wonder. Maybe it isn't so important after all."

Eli took her hand in his. "I have this thing; it's something inside me that tells me things. I can't explain it, Stacy; it's just there. And it tells me when something is right and when it's wrong. It's telling me now I ought to go but it also says don't go away for long. It says to me it's good, what's happening, and I should do it again."