Stranger in my Arms (24 page)

A
ll eyes on the gun range were focused on Merrick Grayslake as he executed his marksmanship skills. Using his right hand, he fired at the target, all sixteen rounds hitting dead center. Expelling the spent clip, he inserted another and repeated the action with his left hand.

A spattering of applause followed the awesome exhibition as Merrick took off the protective gear covering his eyes and ears. He ignored those standing around talking quietly amongst themselves. He'd come to the gun range to let out some of his pent-up frustration.

He'd reacted like an automaton when Alex parked in front of the home where she wanted them to live. He told her he liked the style of the house, the neighborhood and the shopping area. What he couldn't tell her was what he'd gleaned earlier that afternoon. That he knew about Victoria Grayslake, who she'd worked for and how she'd died. It haunted him that she'd agreed to give up names of undercover agents to save the life of her unborn child.

Chandler Duffy. The name played over and over in his head, becoming a litany. The former DEA supervisor had set up Victoria Grayslake to be tortured and executed. Why? Merrick asked himself over and over, unable to come up with a plausible explanation.

Retribution. The word seeped into his consciousness, nagging at him like a gnawing ache. Duffy had to pay, not only because he was responsible for an agent's death; he also had the blood of four hired thugs, five if they'd killed him, on his hands and who knew how many more?

Whether it was retribution, revenge, payback or reprisal, Chandler Duffy knew who he was and Merrick Grayslake knew Chandler. It was time for him to level the playing field, settle the score.

He'd come to work earlier than usual, hoping to meet with Carl Ashleigh or William Reid, but was told that the two men were out of the building. Merrick knew he couldn't do anything to Duffy unless he cleared it with Ashleigh and/or Reid. Until then he would take his stress and frustration out on the gun range target.

 

Ashleigh and Reid returned to CIA headquarters later that afternoon and were told that Merrick Grayslake needed to speak to them ASAP. They shared a knowing look, then summoned him. He was forthcoming when he told them of his meeting with
the voice.

Ashleigh spoke first. “Chandler Duffy is no small-time punk looking to make a big score. He's been peddling influence in Washington for two decades, and everyone knows he's the best at what he does.”

Lacing his fingers together, Ashleigh avoided Merrick's gaze. “He's what you'd call a power broker extraordinaire. He has backed our last two presidents.”

“Do you have anything on him?” Merrick asked.

William Reid looked at Ashleigh, who nodded. “Duffy's name has come up in connection with his firm accepting cash payments from the head of an African nation who has been accused of human rights violations and rumored to offer refuge to known terrorists.”

Merrick's gray gaze shifted from Reid to Ashleigh. “How do you know this and where do
we
fit into that equation?”

A rare smile found its way to Ashleigh's pale eyes. “We've uncovered an offshore account in Duffy's wife's name, and there's been talk that he brokered a deal for several senators and for our incumbent president's opponent to meet secretly with this leader.”

This wasn't the news Merrick wanted to hear because personally he liked the man who was certain to receive his party's nomination to run against the weak and ineffective incumbent president.

“I'd like to request permission to head the team to investigate Duffy.”

Ashleigh shook his head. “I don't know, Grayslake. It wouldn't work, because something of this nature would be too personal for you.”

Leaning forward, Merrick impaled him with a lethal stare. “I'm not going to lie and say it's not personal. But I didn't have to come to tell you what went down last night. I could've gotten into my vehicle, stalked Duffy and taken him out at a thousand yards with one bullet, one kill. Far enough away to see his head explode, and far enough away not to have pieces of his DNA on me.

“The fact that I've come back to the Company is like waving a red flag in front of Duffy. Unlike the last time, I'll be ready for him and his hired thugs. But what I won't do is put my family at risk. Either you approve me going after Duffy legally or I'll take care of him my way. And you both know how that will end.”

If Merrick Grayslake had been any other subordinate Ashleigh would've written him up. The director had half hoped Grayslake would take the bait, but it'd gone better than they'd planned because Duffy wasn't above killing women. And because Grayslake, dubbed the “Lone Wolf” by those involved in Operation Backslap, had taken a mate it made the mission that much more personal.

“Okay, Grayslake,” Ashleigh said grudgingly. “You can be first chair on this one. Do you want to pick your team or do you want to leave that to me?”

“We can do it together.”

Carl Ashleigh felt a measure of relief for the first time since he'd been ordered to indirectly involve Merrick Grayslake in the mission to neutralize Duffy.

“Good. Let's get together at the end of the first week in January.” He flipped a page in his planner and circled a date. “If I can't get someone else to lead the sniper training, then we'll put it off until you close out the Duffy investigation.” He closed his planner, struggling not to do the happy dance. He'd lied to Merrick. There never was going to be a sniper-training course. “If you need some time off to make arrangements to protect your wife, then take it.” He stared at Merrick, then his assistant. “Gentlemen, this meeting is over.”

Merrick left the conference room and returned to his office. Propping his elbows on the desk, he covered his face with his hands. How, he thought, was he going to tell Alex that she would have to stay in Florida with her parents until Duffy was either in custody—or dead? He lowered his hands and stared at a wall calendar displaying eighteen instead of the usual twelve months. He'd circled the last day in April—the day Victoria Cole-Grayslake was predicted to make her appearance.

A
lex's plan to change her flight reservation to leave Virginia with Merrick backfired. The snow, which had begun falling two days before Christmas, continued nonstop for three days and two nights. Snow totals from Maine to portions of West Virginia averaged more than two feet.

It would become the first Christmas that the second generation of Coles, Kirklands and Grayslakes would not celebrate Christmas and New Year's in West Palm Beach, Florida. Gabriel and Summer, Michael and Jolene and Merrick and Alexandra were unable to leave their homes.

Merrick, who lay in bed with Alex in the Kirklands' guest bedroom, rested a hand over her distended belly. They'd come to Georgetown for dinner and found themselves snowbound.

“Why don't you go to Florida when the airports are back on schedule.” Alex felt as if someone had caught her throat, not permitting her to breathe. Merrick had changed, but she'd attributed that to his work at the CIA. Most nights he came home, went directly to the bathroom where he showered, then flopped in front of the television until she called him for dinner. He always helped her clean up the kitchen, waited for her to come to bed, turned over and fell asleep.

Sitting up, she turned on the lamp on her side of the bed and shook him awake. “Merrick, are you having an affair?”

He moaned and threw an arm over his face. “What?”

“I know you heard what I said.” She repeated her query.

Merrick sat up. “No. Oh, hell, no!”

Alex pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “Then, why is it we haven't made love in more than a week? Is it because I'm fat and ugly?”

“Ali, my love,” he crooned, reaching for her, but she turned her back. “You are the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“But I'm fat.”

“Baby, you're pregnant. Pregnant women always put on weight.”

Turning over to face him, Alex touched the side of his face. “You're not having an affair?”

“I would never cheat on you, Ali.” Merrick combed his fingers through her curls.

“Then, what's the matter, Merrick? Why do I feel as if we're growing apart?”

Merrick wanted to tell her, unload all he'd discovered about his mother, but he couldn't. “I'm involved with something at work that has me distracted.”

“Can you talk about it?” Alex asked.

“No, baby. It's classified.”

She smiled. “That's all you had to say.”

He kissed the end of her nose. “Any time I start acting strange, talk to me.”

“You're always strange,” Alex teased.

Merrick's hand searched under the hem of her nightgown, trailing up her thighs. “How's that?”

She pressed her forehead to his. “You have a way of looking at a person that makes them feel as if you have X-ray vision. Then you have a habit of sneaking up on folks wherein they look up and you're there.”

“Do I frighten you, darling?”

She closed her eyes, smiling. “Not anymore.”

“When did you stop being afraid?”

“The day I became Mrs. Merrick Grayslake. I knew I could never live with a man who frightened me.”

“Have you given what I said some thought?”

“About you wanting me to go to Florida?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you want me to go away, Merrick? And please don't tell me it's classified.”

“I'm involved in something that may put you and the baby in danger.”

“What is it?”

“That I can't tell you.”

“You want me to go away for how long?”

“I don't know,” he answered truthfully.

“No, Merrick. If you can't give me a time frame, then I'm staying here. We're buying a new house and I plan to focus all of my energies on decorating it before the baby comes.”

“I don't want to fight with you, Ali.”

“Then don't,” she shot back.

“I will if I have to.”

“Are you threatening me, Merrick Grayslake?”

“No, I'm not. I'm telling you that I'll do what I have to do to keep you safe. If that means hiring someone to watch you when I'm not here, then I will.”

Alex's hands curled into fists. “I will not become a prisoner in my home.”

Merrick pulled away and lay on his back. “You will become anything I want you to become until what I'm involved in is over.”

Alex struggled to control her temper. “When will it be over?”

“Dammit! I don't know!”

She swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her movements were slow and awkward as she made her way over to a window. “Don't you
ever
raise your voice to me again!” she ground out between clenched teeth. “In case you failed to notice I am your wife, not your chattel. Yell at me again and you don't have to worry about hiring someone to protect me, because I'll be out of here so fast you'll forget what I look like.”

Merrick moved off the bed, stalking her like a large cat. “You will not leave me. You will not take my child from me.”

“Me, me, me,” she mimicked. “Why is this about you? What about me?”

“It
is
about you, Ali. Everything in my life, everything I do is about you.” He threw up a hand. “Do you think I really wanted to go back to the CIA?”

“Then why did you?”

“Because I needed to support my wife and family.”

“I don't need you to take care of me.”

He took several steps, bringing them inches apart. “What kind of man would I be if I let my wife foot the bill for everything? How long would it take for me not to feel like a man? Be a man?”

“Why are you equating your manhood with money?”

Grasping her shoulders, he pulled her to his naked body. “I have to, Alexandra, because that's who I am. Do you think your father would've given us his blessing if I didn't have a job?”

Her eyes widened until he saw into their clear gold depths. “What does my father have to do with us?”

“Your father asked me how I was going to support you.”

“When?”

Merrick told her about the confrontation with her father as an expression of disbelief swept over his wife's incredibly beautiful face. Being pregnant made her lush, more feminine.

“Even though you're carrying David Cole's grandchild, he still had the stones to blindside me in front of his brothers and sons to question me about how I was going to take care of his precious baby girl.”

Her lids fluttered. “I didn't know, Merrick. I'm sorry my father—”

“Don't apologize for him, Ali,” he spat out, cutting her off. “What your father said came from his heart. I have to respect him for that.”

Resting her palms on his pecs, Alex pressed a kiss over his heart. “I'm sorry for fighting with you,
mi amor.
”

He cradled her belly. “We don't fight, baby.”

“What do we do?”

“Disagree.”

“I…I…” Her eyes were wide as silver dollars. Placing her hands over Merrick's, she pressed them to her swollen abdomen. “Did you feel that?”

“Feel what?”

“The baby, Merrick. She kicked me.”

He placed his hands on her belly. “I don't feel anything.”

Alex gasped. “She kicked again.”

“Where?”

“Here.”

Merrick closed his eyes and waited. Then he felt it—a soft flutter. It happened again. A well of emotion filled his chest, making it difficult for him to draw a breath. His daughter was moving. Now she was real, very, very real.

Going to his knees, he pushed up Alex's nightgown and kissed his wife's belly. “I love my girls,” he whispered, placing soft tender kisses over every inch of her swollen flesh.

Alex cradled Merrick's head as an angelic smile spread over her face. Her baby, their baby, in making her presence known, had forced a truce between her mother and father.

Merrick rose to his feet and swept Alex up in his arms. He carried her back to bed and proceeded to make love to her slowly, gently, as if he feared she would shatter into a million tiny pieces.

He gave, she received, she gave and he was there to receive. A wave of ecstasy came upon them so quickly they didn't have time to react. A fireball exploded and they fell headlong into a maelstrom of uncontrollable joy that ebbed to a deep feeling of sated peace.