Out of the Dark (15 page)

Mac slammed on the brakes, causing the car to skid to a halt in the middle of the side road. Dumbfounded, he turned to Em. “You dated Stanley?”

Apparently unfazed by his question, Em lifted her pretty chin. “Yes.”

Unbelievable!
Grumbling, he faced forward, and gripped the steering wheel. “Did you sleep with him?”

Oh shit, that’s a pathetic thing to ask a woman.

The answer presented itself when Em turned pink from neck to forehead.

“That’s none of your business.” Nostrils flaring, she tightened her mouth and stared out the windshield. Even from the opposite seat Mac heard her teeth grinding. So, he’d hit a nerve.

Since Moscow, Em deliberately had given him a hard time, and here she’d dated a geek like Stanley. Mind you, not some hunky guy you’d expect to be on the cover of GQ, or some calendar pinup fireman or police officer, or even a good looking attorney.

Hell no!

Not one of those. Instead, she’d fallen for a nerdy little professor with a paunchy gut, telescopic lens glasses, wearing clothes that didn’t fit from Goodwill.

Oh boy, that pissed him off
.

Mac pointed behind them. “You’re telling me that Mr. Genius is the reason you’ve signed off on men? He’s the one who broke your heart so badly you didn’t want anything to do with the male race again?”

Her sober expression and tight lips confirmed the truth. All respect for Stanley evaporated. No way would Mac believe any man with a half a brain would take Em’s flighty, egotistical, come-fuck-me sister, over her. Side by side, Em was twice the woman Victoria ever dreamed of being, and nine times prettier. That brilliant asshole just morphed into a god dammed idiot.

From his standpoint, Stanley and Victoria deserved each other. The big question was how could Victoria do that to her sibling? Surely some universal female law existed that once your sister had dibs on a guy, he was off limits to the rest of the family? What possessed Victoria to make a play for a man whose only claim to fame was intelligence?

And Mac knew a sorry SOB when he saw one, and that described Stanley perfectly. That guy really cared for Em at one time, and now he’d lost her forever. How could a man be that stupid?

Em.

They left her to live with them being husband and wife for the rest of her life. How sad, how awkward, and how damn cruel. No matter what Em said, Mac saw regret in Stanley’s eyes. That man had shit in his own nest, and ended up making a lifetime mistake. One he’d never forget.

Had Em fancied herself in love with him? Mac’s gut tightened and a sigh of re
gret silently slipped through him. Mac wanted to slam the smartass’s head against a concrete wall.

“Stanley is a dimwit, okay? And an idiot.”

“He graduated from MIT. He’s very intelligent.”

“Well, brains aren’t everything.”

“I like men who are smart.

Mac continued driving. Well, if she thought Stanley so fre
akin’ smart, she needed to rethink the whole idea of men.

He drove to the next intersection then slammed on the brakes again. Em braced her hands against the dashboard. She looked at him.

“Holy shit, is that ring on her finger yours?”

Em reared back, her eyes wide. “What?”

“Did that son of a bitch give her your engagement ring? Because if he did, I’m going back there and show him
my
new
invention
.” 

Shaking her head, she rolled her gaze upwards before drawing her brows together. “Stanley would never do that.”

“Then where is your ring?”

“I don’t know.” She thought for a moment. “I assume he returned it to the jeweler.”

“So, he traded one ring in for another? One sister for the other.”

“I don’t know why this matters to you.”

“Because you think I’m a jerk? Well, in my opinion, we just left the throne of the King of Jerks. Any man that would ask a woman to marry him, and then turn around and dump her for her sister, is an asshole.”

Gritting his teeth, Mac wanted to go back and hurt, really hurt
, Stanley. Instead, he put the car in gear and headed toward his place. In less than ten minutes they had pulled into his apartment complex. He took the pictures with him.

Em came around to the driver’s side then slid behind the wheel and adjusted the seat.

“Look, I live in 207.” He pointed to the second floor. “If you need anything let me know. The security code for the gate is 7741. I’m still not sure you’re safe, so Frank has a couple of local agents parked outside your house to keep an eye on you. Also, you are going to be followed until we figure this out.”

Emily put the car in gear but kept her foot on the brake. “I’ll be fine.” She
wouldn’t meet his gaze.

Mac
knew their time together had run out.

“It’s been exciting, but I’m glad to be back to my nice
, boring, but normal life.”

Mac leaned down, but before he could reach her lips she rolled up the window halfway. Mac stepped back. His gaze fell to the ground as he wondered if he too had made the same damn mistake as Stanley.

He reached in and stroked a strand of her hair. “Listen, Em,” he started. “There is a special guy out there just waiting for a woman like you to rock his world. Forget Stanley. You’re too good for him.”

He withdrew his hand and Em pressed the accelerator, pulled out of the parking lot and turned left. Mac realized he didn’t know where she lived. But he did have her cell phone number and hell, as a spy, he could find almost anyone. If he ever wanted to find Emily Richards, he wouldn’t have to work too hard.

His problem would be leaving her alone.

Once in his apartment, showered and wearing a clean set of his own clothes, Mac picked up the phone. Frank answered on the second ring. “Mac, I don’t like this shit with Emily. What in the hell happened?”

“You know what a bastard I am.”

“Mac,” Frank breathed out. “Emily’s life is in danger because you acted unprofessionally. I should pull you in for that.”

Mac didn’t reply. Frank couldn’t worsen his pain.

“I’ll call her tomorrow and try to piece things back together. In the meantime, what else did you learn at Stanley’s? I can’t believe all this is over a couple of
damn snapshots.”

“It’s not. You know who else Em took a picture of?

“Who?”

“After looking at all the frames
I saw one of our old buddies. Do you remember Youssef el Jabir?”

“The Bomb Maker?”

“Un huh.”

“Jesus, were they all together?”

“No, but the photos proved his location. How can he do that and be on every watch list in the world? Interpol wants him, Germany wants him, and Israel has a bounty on his head. Everyone wants him. Dead or alive.”

“
Youssef el Jabir is responsible for killing thousands of innocent people,” Frank said. “And he was in Moscow at the same time as Marino and Belskavia. Marino has the money, Belskavia the material, and el Jabir is the best bomb maker in the world....”

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Mac said.

“God, this is big. Can you scan me those pictures?”

“Sure.”

“I’m calling the President and the National Security Council. This could be another 9-11.”

“I’m going to be working my contacts. Where is
Archuletta?

“At the airport in Columbia
.”

“We need him in Moscow
.”

“I can make that happen, but I’m not sure that’s safe.
” Frank said.

“When have we ever played it safe?”

Frank grunted then said, “I’m worried about Emily.”

“So am I. But I know you have her wrapped up like a Christmas present.”

“Yeah, I do. No thanks to you.”

***

Emily turned onto her street and a strong sense of homecoming washed over her. The brick house she’d bought seven years ago rendered a sense of security and warmth that she seriously needed today. Even at a distance, the gold Texas star hung above her garage sent a surge of heritage and pride through her body. Looking at her neighborhood, Emily smiled at the prospect of being home.

Releasing a heavy sigh, she allowed the past few days to
run through her mind. She was lucky to be alive. She couldn’t count how many laws they’d broken, or how close they had come to death.

She pulled into her driveway and got out of Falcon’s SUV. It felt
as if she’d been gone months instead of days. Glad the ordeal between her and Mac no longer existed, Emily wanted to take a shower, change clothes, curl up on the couch and take a long nap. But first she had to stop at her neighbor’s and get her dog, Hershey.

With it being Friday
, in the middle of the day, and everyone at work, the side streets and the neighborhood quietly welcomed her home. Emily filled her lungs then let out a sigh of contentment.

But she couldn’t ignore three cars with Falcon agents outside. They were across from her front door, down the street, and around the corner.

Sadly, she hated Big Brother watching, but it would be impossible to convince Frank she didn’t need to be guarded. 

She
got out of the car, slammed the door and jogged across the street to her friend’s house. Debbie welcomed her back into her own, private world.

“Come on in,” her friend said, as she pulled her into her arms for a hug. They both walked toward the back of the house. “How was Moscow?” Debbie asked, smiling. “I see the Russian’s didn’t frisk you off to Siberia.”
Debbie looked closer. “Or did they? What happened to you face?”

If you only knew
.

“Nothing but a minor misunderstanding
.”

Debbie paused. “But you got
the contract, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did, and made a lot of money in the process.”

“Cool.”

Th
ey high fived and entered a small, cluttered kitchen. A pot of chili simmered on the stove and a pitcher of iced tea set on the counter. With three boys, Debbie rarely had a quiet, sane moment.

“Where is Hershey?”

“He’s out digging holes in the yard.”

They laughed. Emily knew that rascal would be up to no-good. “I’m sorry I was late.”

Debbie laughed, deepening the creases around her eyes. “Don’t mention it. The kids had so much fun with him, I was afraid if you came when they were home, they wouldn’t let you have him.”

“Well, I certainly thank you for watching him so he wouldn’t have to spend an extra weekend in the doggie hotel.”

Debbie waved her hand. “After what Whiskers did to your couch while we were in Disneyland last year, don’t mention it. Besides, he wasn’t any trouble at all.”

Debbie walked over and opened the backdoor. “Here Hershey. Here boy.”

The large brown Labrador came bouncing into the house, sliding on his rump when he lost his footing on the slick tiled floor then struggled to make his way to Emily. He barked jovially when she bent down and slapped her knee. “Come here, boy,” she called out. “Come on.”

Hershey managed to get his feet under him, bounced toward her, and slammed into her thighs, practically knocking her down. “Hi baby,” Emily crooned. He licked her face then whimpered and
squirmed with excitement. She buried her face in his silky fur, glad to be where she was loved and appreciated. Leaning back, she ruffled his ears, grateful for his warm welcome.

“Come on, boy. You ready to go home?”

Debbie met them at the door with Hershey’s dog dish. “Sorry he finished off the bag last night.”

“That’s okay. I have to run to the supermarket anyway. Thanks again, Debbie. When I get rested up I’ll come back and tell you all about my trip.”

“Hey, I’m glad you’re home.”

With Hershey leading the way across the street, Emily took her keys out of her purse and opened the front door. The wonderful comforts of home and familiarity greeted her like a parent with open arms to a lost child.

Today, she needed this normalcy more than any other time in her life. While Hershey trotted all over the house, Emily put her briefcase in her home office, along with her laptop. Further in the house she dropped her purse on the counter and went straight to her bedroom.

She turned on the shower and stripped.
These clothes had to go. Something familiar would feel wonderful. She wadded up the jeans, knitted top and flip-flops and threw them in the trash can. Absolutely no memories allowed.

I
n the shower, she shampooed her hair and scrubbed her body clean. Rinsed and left the shower to dry off. Hershey waited for her outside the bathroom door. “I know you’re hungry,” she crooned. “Give me five minutes and we’ll go to the store and buy dog food. Are you hungry, boy?”

Hershey barked and wiggled his body.