Memories Of You (11 page)

Stone walked behind his desk and pulled out a sheaf of papers, rifling through them then dividing them and passing half to Seth. “I hope our revelation won’t affect the job we need the two of you to perform.”

Charlie glanced from one man to the other. “What? Now I have to work with him?”

Stone handed Charlie the other half of the paperwork. “We need the two of you to continue as if you were a couple, to be seen, to chat up certain things, to draw the man we suspect of murdering Martin into the open.”

Charlie shoved the papers back at him. “No, thanks.”

Stone quietly but firmly handed them back to her, tapping her on the chest with them when she didn’t open her hands to receive them. “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice, Detective. We’ve already spoken with your captain, and both departments are working together now to bring this man to justice. He’s murdered two of our agents and nearly killed another.” He indicated Seth. “Surely, you see the importance of your participation.”

“Two?” Seth asked. “Lawson was the other?”

“Right,” said Runnels. “When Martin didn’t show up for their rendezvous in Guadalajara, you were sent. The two of you had attended a stockholders meeting of Aldridge Enterprises and were on your way back to your hotel when you were run off the road, most likely by Mason. We know he was there because of airport security. We believe he followed you, tried to kill you, then came home while you were in the hospital and Lawson was in the morgue.”

Seth rubbed his eyes. “So the Mexican police had it right all along. That’s why I kept seeing Lawson’s profile. She was driving.”

“Right.”

Seth continued. “I’m confused. So who the hell was driving which car?”

Stone chuckled. “I’m not surprised—it’s pretty tangled. You were riding with Marjorie, on your way to attend a function at the hotel as our undercover operatives. Dorinda and Doug Wilkerson were in the other car. As for Mason Aldridge, nobody knows where he was at that time.”

Runnels sat on the edge of the desk across from Seth. “We’re not sure what happened to the real Aldridge, but he was involved with smuggling terrorists into our country via Rogers’s business, the escort service. These men and women would enter through customs, travel as far as Houston, where Rogers trained them, then travel to various parts of the country to work with others like them. We don’t know how many cells there are, how many escort services Rogers truly owns, or who else is involved, but it’s a big operation.”

Charlie held up her hands. “Illegal aliens…terrorist transports?”

Stone nodded. “We know you’re familiar with a different kind of illegal alien problem, what with the Texas border bumped up against that of Mexico. What we’re referring to are illegals from countries other than Mexico. They’re being smuggled in from Mexico, transported via the dating service loop.” He shrugged. “Not all of them are being handed off to the dating service, of course, but they are entering the country mixed in with others who are simply here to find work or attend school. Makes those working for the dating service more difficult to catch.”

“We’ve tracked at least two hundred illegal aliens during the past eighteen months, and we’re pretty sure they all arrived thanks to Aldridge and Rogers. Some of them, as we said, find jobs, attend college, while others within the same families are recruited to work for the escort service.”

Charlie’s mouth gaped. “That many?”

Stone nodded. “These men and women working for the dating service must have families, friends, people with whom they relate. Otherwise, they’d be too easy for us to catch. Their governments don’t send them over here flying solo. They’re given families, backgrounds, loved ones, so that they blend in with our culture.”

“Fellas, I’m not sure I’ll be much use to you,” Seth admitted. “I haven’t had a gun in my hands since I’ve been out of the hospital, and I can’t remember much—short-term memory problems more than long-term.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Stone said, coming to join them. “You won’t be issued a weapon, not until you pass muster with the powers that be. But you’re still technically engaged by the CIA, so you have a job to do, regardless.”

Charlie interrupted them. “Whoa. You want us as sitting ducks, don’t you? That’s what this is about—you’ve said as much. You need someone to draw Rogers into the open.” She waved her arms expressively. “If he’s already killed two of your agents, what makes you so certain you can protect us, especially if Seth has no way of defending himself? That’s a suicide mission you’re feeding us.”

Bile rose in Seth’s throat. She made him sound like a victim, and regardless of his memory, he was pretty damned sure he’d never been the type to roll over and wait for someone to kill him. “You think I can’t defend myself or protect you?” he blurted out.

“Oh, don’t get your boxers in a twist,” she snapped. “This isn’t about ego, it’s about self-preservation.”

Seth pounded the desk. “Bring it on. I have a lot more at stake here than you realize, babe.” Pride be damned, he had Charlie to think about, not just his hide.

“Hold on,” Stone said, pushing his palms toward them. “Nobody’s asking you to die for the cause, just to be seen in certain circles, to let him get close enough to talk to you. We’d need you to wear a wire, of course, and to pretend Seth is really Aldridge. We need him on tape.”

Seth shook his head. “Why didn’t whoever manages the escort service approach me before now?”

“Probably for the same reason we didn’t—to see how much you really knew.”

Seth sighed. “Okay. I get it now. Even though I didn’t know shit, neither of you could possibly know that unless you watched me and kept me close.”

Charlie squinted and leaned closer, as if examining a bug under a microscope. “I don’t know what you’ve been smoking, but last time I checked, killers don’t do a lot of chatting.”

Stone folded his arms across his chest and nodded. “I don’t suppose it’s occurred to you, Detective Vargas…” And he made a point of emphasizing the title she’d thrown at him earlier. “But you’re the one Seth can thank for having put him in Rogers’s gun sites. You’re the reason Seth has a target on him now. If you hadn’t gone to Rogers asking so many questions about George Martin…”

“I was working a cold case,” Charlie shot back. “I was doing my job!”

“You were nosing around to see what had happened to your boyfriend, Miss Vargas,” Stone said, rising and placing his hands on his hips. “You didn’t give a damn about George Martin.” He held up his hands again, palms facing her. “Not that I believe you don’t do your job well, but Martin meant nothing to you.” He stuck a thumb in Seth’s direction. “My pal over here, however, had gotten under your skin, and you couldn’t handle it that he’d simply dropped out of sight. You went back to face Rogers more because of Seth than George. You just wanted to know where your boyfriend was, not who had killed George.”

“You think you know me pretty well, don’t you?” Her question wasn’t defensive, more a statement of surprise.

“I know you better than you’d like, lady. That’s what bugs you.”

By then, Seth and Runnels had moved toward the center of the room to get between Charlie and Stone, both of whom were red-faced and seemed itching for a verbal brawl.

Seth felt compelled to defend Charlie, even though he knew the little spitfire could handle her own against anyone. He felt torn between the job he couldn’t perform and the woman he loved, and the realization that he loved her ate at him like a cancer. He knew in his heart she felt nothing but remorse, anger, bitterness and disappointment that she’d ever become involved with him.

“Knock it off, Stone.” Seth stood and moved between the two antagonistic law officers.

“I can take care of myself.” Charlie grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. Her lower lip trembled slightly, and she lifted her head proudly, almost defiantly. She swallowed hard enough for him to see a slight movement in her throat, and she wet her lips before facing Stone and continuing. “What is it you need from me? Do I call my captain, or does he know where I am?”

Stone’s expression softened, noted Seth, and his voice had a more even, kinder tone. “Bemo knows. We’ll need you two to spend a couple of nights in a hotel while we check out your apartment. You don’t have any pets, do you?”

When Charlie shook her head, he continued, “We’ll sweep the room for bugs, place a couple of our people to watch your building and floor, and install a camera or two so we can see who’s watching you.”

“But nobody knows where I live,” Charlie protested.

Runnels shook his head. “You’d be surprised. If Rogers knew enough to follow you to Mexico—”

Seth’s mind snapped to attention. “What?” He and Charlie exchanged disbelieving glances.

He could tell it had slipped the other two men’s minds to inform them.

Charlie looked as if her knees were buckling, and she reached for the nearest chair and sat. “Rogers…was in Mexico?”

“He was on your flight.” Stone’s voice was quiet, matter-of-fact.

Stone opened the door to the small office and quietly asked someone for a few bottles of water to be delivered. Seth felt as if someone had kicked him in the teeth.

When Stone turned back from the door, a flash of recognition, something…it triggered a montage of scenes that flitted across Seth’s mind. He and Stone both laughing, doing mundane things like watching television together—a football game, Texas against Oklahoma.

When Runnels turned around and caught Seth’s eye, Seth gave a brief nod. “We were all friends?” he asked.

For the first time since they’d all met at the airport, Runnels smiled. “You and I trained together, and you were best man at Stone’s wedding.”

“How long have you two known one another?” Seth asked, directing his question to Stone.

“We only met a couple of weeks ago,” Stone said. “But we’ve had some good talks about you.”

Charlie obtrusively cleared her throat. When they all looked at her, she crossed her legs at the ankles, tucked them under her chair and leaned forward. “Charming as this little reunion has been, I do have a life, family, a job, so can we get through this as quickly as possible so I can go home?”

They hadn’t even let her go home for fresh clothes, telling her and Seth that someone would retrieve their belongings and take them to the hotel. She’d bet her last paycheck Seth didn’t have a pile of laundry waiting on him back at his mansion…rather, Aldridge’s mansion.

Charlie could barely contain her anger. First he was some rich manufacturing magnate, then her amnesiac lover, possibly a male escort, a CIA operative and now all of the above plus someone who had used her for his own purposes? She’d always admired all aspects of law enforcement, but now she saw an ugly side she had difficulty appreciating. If she was ever in the position of ripping someone from their home, she’d remember this. If she ever had to go undercover and lie to those she loved, she’d think twice before taking on the assignment.

She winced guiltily. As if he had a choice. Still.

Once at the hotel, she checked out her room, noting that they at least were in a large suite, one in which she had her own bedroom. She heard Stone asking Seth what he wanted for the next day’s meals since they’d be sequestered, and since the hotel had provided a checklist.

Seth seemed not to hear what was being said—or he was off in la-la land, because he never answered. Charlie moved to stand in her doorway leading to the living area she’d share with Seth, and she watched his face, his eyes. He’d completely spaced out and seemed to have difficulty following the conversation. Stone, whose back was to Seth, had apparently not noticed.

“Hey,” she said gently, going to stand beside Seth.

He nodded, but his eyes still seemed unfocused to her, as if he searched for something.

“Did you catch what he said?” Charlie asked.

Stone, upon hearing her, had quit talking and turned to Seth. “Buddy, you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Seth brushed aside their concern and flexed. “I’m just tired, sorry. You were asking me something?”

Stone reiterated his questions, seemingly oblivious to what had just happened, but Charlie had a moment of panic. How awful for Seth, if this was part of what he’d mentioned, the short-term memory problems. To be suddenly cut adrift from his thoughts like that, unexpectedly.

She shoved aside her sympathies.
Oh, no, Charlie—uh-uh, he still lied to you by omission. The man used you. Don’t get sucked back into anything. Focus on the case, on helping them nab Rogers.

“Detective?” Runnels handed her a copy of the same list Stone had been going over with Seth. “We’re asking you both to fill these out now so that you won’t have to open your doors once we leave. You should be fine, but we’ll have a guard posted outside, just in case.”

She nodded, accepting the piece of paper and pen he offered. As she sat at her bedroom desk, filling in the squares by checking them, she couldn’t help but dwell on Seth, despite her desire not to sympathize. He’d take offense at too much concern, but damn it, she cared. He wasn’t an invalid—he wasn’t even traumatized. He was simply confused momentarily. It was what was happening in that moment and what occurred afterward that concerned Charlie. How did he feel when he spaced out like that? And was the condition permanent?

When she handed Runnels her selection and he asked if she could think of anything in particular she needed or wanted for the next couple of days, she nodded and gave him the names of a couple of board games and card games.

He lifted an eyebrow. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do.”

Charlie sat on the edge of her bed. Let the Feds pick up the tab and think she was a little nutty. Maybe playing with games that required memory skills would help Seth. Couldn’t hurt, and it’d pass the time. Might keep her mind off thoughts of him kissing and holding her if she had something else on which to concentrate.

Tall order, she thought, but it was worth a shot.

He seemed to have picked up on her scheme. After the others left, he asked her about her requests. “Memory games?”

“Card games,” she countered.

“Think you’ll be bored, do you?” This time his voice was edgy, less joking.

Charlie spread her hands on the dinette table in their suite. “Let’s cut the crap. You have memory issues—I was just trying to help.” She watched his features morph from congenial to outright angry.

“Charlie, while I appreciate your concern, butt out.”

“Pardon me?”

“I don’t want your sympathy, and there’s nothing you could do about my situation anyway. I’ve been to the best doctors, and they all say the same thing—that I can get shunts put into my skull to drain some of the fluid, but the memory loss is most likely permanent.”

The anger she’d felt disintegrated. “Seth, I don’t feel sorry for you.”

“Yeah?” He pierced her with a steely blue stare. “What do you feel, Charlie?”

Her name, soft on his lips, was her undoing. She rose and went to him. He was stiff at first, his arms hanging at his sides, his chest expanding with every breath.

“It’s only a hug, Seth, not a contract.” She pressed herself against him.

“Like I’d hate a contract with you, emotional or otherwise.” Finally his arms wrapped around her, squeezing her gently, letting her know how much her presence meant to him.

Charlie couldn’t have remained angry if she’d tried. “Why didn’t you tell me how bad your injuries were?” she asked.

Seth released her and held her at arm’s length. “I had my face rearranged, a new one sewn onto my skull, and got my cage rattled, my brains loosened. I walked away from it, so what else is there to say?”

She led him to the couch but didn’t sit when he did. “Want some coffee?”

“Sure.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t suppose you cook, too, do you?”

She grinned. “No, but I’m great at dialing room service. Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll have some food sent up.” She stuck a thumb in the direction of the hall outside their door. “Of course, Agent Double-O-Eight, or someone not as far up the CIA echelon as you and your buddies, will probably have to run their fingers over it to check for sugar bombs or veggie arsenic.”

He smiled in return. “This mean you’ll keep me company and talk to me so we can work this out?”

Charlie shrugged. “Nothing to work out. You had a job to do, so did I.”

“Yeah, but you weren’t assigned to follow me, get close to me, so whatever happened between us can’t be suspect because of your actions.”

She didn’t say anything. Whatever came out of her mouth wouldn’t make him feel better anyway, so she opted for silence while she found the number she needed and punched the buttons on the telephone.

She’d no sooner hung up the hotel phone than her cell phone rang—it was her father.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Mind telling me where you are and what the hell these two men are doing in your apartment?”

Charlie blinked. “What?”

“These two yahoos sitting in the middle of your living room floor. Who are they?”

“Dad? Why are they—did you hurt them?”

Sam sighed dramatically. “One of them has a headache and the other a sore jaw. You know that lamp near your front door? I’ll buy you a new one. I never liked that lamp anyway.”

Charlie chuckled. At least he wasn’t the one hurting. “What happened?”

“Forget what happened here. Where are you?”

Charlie gave Sam a condensed version of what had happened since she’d gotten off the plane in Houston. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. Things have been moving kinda fast, and I completely forgot.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t. Knew when you were supposed to get back, and you didn’t call, so I picked up some beer and a bouquet of flowers and thought I’d surprise you.” He snorted. “Guess I wasn’t the only one who got surprised.”

“You bought me flowers? Aw, Daddy!”

“They were five bucks at the store where I bought the beer,” he said, brushing aside her gushing. Then he swore. “Damn. I forgot to pick up something for my cell phone. My charger in the car is goin’ out on me.”

She asked again what had happened.

“I start to knock, see the door is open, walk in, and I ask the first guy if he’s Seth. He said no, so I clocked him on the jaw. The other guy comes at me, so I pick up the lamp and throw it at him.” Sam paused. “Once they started comin’ around, I asked them who they were, and they told me their badges were in their jackets. Figured I’d better call you to confirm.”

“So why are they sitting on the floor of my living room?” she asked indulgently.

“Because I haven’t untied them yet. Thank God you don’t always hang up your clothes—your bathrobe and nightgown were lying over the arm of the couch. And before you get all pissed off, I had to do something before they woke up. I’m an old man—they’re bigger than I am.”

At that, Charlie laughed. Sam was anything but helpless, but she could see his point.

“Look, Dad, I’ll explain everything else when I see you.”

“And when will that be? Charlene, you’re not getting off the damned hook here, so you’d better start talking.” Now he sounded upset, and she couldn’t blame him.

“Seth is one of them, CIA, and right now we’re in a hotel.” She gave him the address. “But I doubt they’ll let you in here.”

Sam snorted again. “They’ll let me in, or I’ll raise so much hell their boss in D.C. will hear me.”

He seemed to have turned from the phone a second. Charlie could hear him complaining in the background to one of the men on the floor. “Oh, shut up. I didn’t hit you that hard. I’m talkin’ here to my daughter—I’ll be with you in a second.”

She stifled a giggle and told him she loved him. “I have to check in with my partner,” she told him.

“Oh, you don’t call your old man, but you’ll call your partner? I see how you are.”

Charlie started to retort that it must’ve been a trick she’d learned from him, because she’d heard her mom complain often enough about how Sam would cover every base but home if he had the chance.

“I’ll talk to you again tomorrow, okay?” she said instead.

Sam’s voice was gruff. “I love you, Charlene. Watch your ass.”

He wasn’t exactly the type of father to make chicken soup or take his daughter to the ballet, but then she wasn’t the chicken soup and ballet type daughter. Besides, his heart was in the right place. She felt her cheeks grow pink. And he’d bought her flowers. How sweet.

When she hung up, she caught Seth watching her. Suddenly her throat went dry. The look in his eyes was dark, brooding.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

“Of you.” His eyes held wonder, confusion, pain and something she couldn’t identify. “I wonder what it is you ever saw in me, but I have no problem with what I see in you.”

Charlie felt buoyed and deflated all at once. What did she say to something like that? He wasn’t angling for a compliment. He was giving one. “You became my best friend,” she finally said, finding her voice. “I could tell you things I couldn’t tell anyone else.” She swallowed before continuing. “Of course, at the time I didn’t realize that your job was to get me to reveal what I thought and did.”

The tender thread of intimacy between them began to unravel.

He raised his head as if stretching his neck muscles and closed his eyes. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s all we had going for us.” He relaxed, opened his eyes and leveled his gaze upon her again. “Do you?”

Honesty was stronger than pride. She shook her head. “No.” She moved toward the couch where he still sat. “We had a lot more than that.”

He patted a place beside him. She’d rather have crawled into his lap, but she sat next to him then turned to face him, crossing her legs and propping her elbows on her knees, studying him.

“You want to know what we talked about?” she asked.

“Please.” His relief was visible, tenuous.

She smiled and sat back, leaning against a cushion. “We discussed places we’d been. I remember you telling me about Singapore, Taiwan, Bangkok, cities where you’d traveled. We never discussed our jobs—that was something neither of us was eager to get into, but we talked about facets of our work, and yours involved a lot of travel.”

He shook his head. “Weird thing is that I can tell you right now about streets in those cities, but I couldn’t tell you why I was there.”

“But you’re remembering something. Maybe that’s a sign that your memories are coming back,” she said hopefully.

“What else did we talk about?”

Charlie thought a moment. “Family. I was an only child—you were, too. You talked about your aunt in Louisiana and how she raised you after your parents died.” She paused and gauged his reaction. He hadn’t told her much, but he’d mentioned the aunt in passing.

Seth didn’t seem sad. Quite the contrary—it was as if a veil had been lifted. “Aunt Patricia. Everyone called her Patty. She was my father’s sister.” His face brightened, and he guffawed. “I’ll be damned. Of course.” His voice grew excited. “I can see her house, a big two-story on Magnolia.”

He looked at her in surprise. For a moment, Charlie thought he was going to kiss her. His hands grasped her shoulders, and she felt his excitement running through both of them. Then, it was as if a large wave of reality washed over him, and he dropped his grip on her.

Charlie waited, knowing he’d remembered something else.

“She died,” he finally said, “about two years after I got out of training. I was in China at the time and couldn’t make it back in time for her funeral. She knew she was going and had left instructions with her attorney that I most likely couldn’t be reached until after she was laid to rest.”

Seth groaned. “God, why now? Why couldn’t I have remembered this crap right after the accident? It would have saved us so much time.”

Charlie leaned forward, clasped his hands and drew them to her lap. “There’s nothing you could have done in Mexico, Seth. I was in Houston, and you were stuck there for a long while. What’s past is just that… It can’t be relived.”

He nodded and clenched her hands, circling his thumbs over the insides of her wrists. “I guess what’s bugging me now is that so much has happened that was out of my control, and I hope I haven’t completely destroyed whatever you once felt for me.” He tugged on her hands and brought her closer.

Charlie’s heart skipped a beat. At last. She was tired of carrying a grudge. It was time to put the past completely behind them and work on what they could salvage today.