Chapter 13
13
T wo hours had passed since Dan Howard’s call, and Sully knew he was going to have to get out of bed and get dressed. The last thing he wanted was to field the taunts about falling for the woman he was supposed to be guarding. It was as old a joke within the Bureau as the corny ones about the traveling salesman and the farmer’s daughter. Besides that, what he felt for Ginny didn’t belong within the atmosphere of locker room talk. He was in love and teetering between obsessed and just plain possessive.
Ginny was in the bathroom now. He could hear the water running in the shower, and the thought of joining her was almost too tempting to ignore. But he bypassed the urge by getting out of the bed and going across the hall to his room, then digging through his limited supply of clothing for something clean to wear.
As he reached in the drawer where his clean shirts were kept, he felt something hard beneath the stack. Shifting the shirts aside, he saw the back of a book, and it wasn’t until he picked it up and turned it over that he realized what it was. Dan Howard’s men must have slipped it between the shirts when they’d packed up all their gear, and when he’d unpacked in a hurry the other night, he hadn’t seen it. He couldn’t believe that he’d forgotten about it again.
“Well, hell,” he muttered. “Blame it on the hole Auger tried to put in my head.”
Ginny had yet to see it, and there was always the chance that it would trigger a memory they could use. Dressing quickly, he hurried across the hall into her room with the book in hand.
Ginny’s hair was wet and clinging to the back of her neck as she pulled a clean T-shirt over her head.
“My hair dryer doesn’t work anymore. Do you have one?”
He noticed a tremble in her lips but thought little of it as he answered.
“Yeah, hang on a minute, honey. I’ll be right back.”
He was halfway across the hall when it hit him. Auger had tried to tie her up with the cord from her dryer. God only knows what had gone through her mind when she’d picked the damned thing up.
He came back with his, ready to take that look off her face.
“Sit down here near this outlet and I’ll dry your hair for you while you look through Georgia’s year-book.”
“Oh my gosh,” Ginny said. “I’d forgotten all about it.”
“Yeah, so had I,” he said, and rubbed the scar on his head. “It’s no wonder, right?”
She nodded, trying not to think about the blood on Sully’s face and the weight of Auger’s body as he pinned her to the floor.
“Is this too hot?” Sully asked, as he turned the dryer toward her head.
“A little. Try the medium setting, okay?”
“You got it, babe. Now put your feet up and take yourself a stroll down memory lane. And if you see something that might help on the case, give a holler. We need a break in the very worst way. I marked the pages with your class picture and then the gifted class down below.”
“Okay.”
As she allowed herself the pleasure of concentrating on Sully’s hands combing through her hair and separating the strands so the warm air could circulate better, the bad thoughts began to dissipate.
“If you ever decide to give up your day job, you’d make a good stylist,” she said.
“I wouldn’t do this for anyone but you.”
“Too macho?” she taunted.
“Yes.”
“At least you’re honest,” she said, then grinned to herself as she turned to the pages he’d marked.
As she did, her mind slid back to that first day of school and how afraid she had been—until Georgia. Georgia, with pigtails and freckles, was all giggles and light, bouncing from the swings to the slide like a butterfly too flighty to linger. Oh, the times they’d had. It didn’t seem possible that she was gone, that all of them were gone—except herself. She sighed. Looking at those little smiling faces, so unaware of what lay in store, seemed obscene. It was like looking at ghosts.
Sully turned off the dryer and leaned down beside her. “You okay?”
She nodded.
He knew this was difficult for her, but it had to be done.
“Anything ring a bell?”
“Not really. I never did see Frances after the school burned down. The others, I saw off and on. Some of their parents stayed in the same area where we grew up.” Ginny traced the faces in the photograph with the tip of her finger. “We were so young.”
Sully squatted down beside her. “I remember noticing something different about this picture when I first saw it in Georgia’s things.”
“Like what?”
“Well…see these other group shots? There’s a teacher or a sponsor in every one. But not in yours. Why is that?”
Ginny frowned. “I don’t know.”
“It probably doesn’t mean anything. Maybe he or she was sick that day and they just didn’t want to photograph the sub. But you’d think the name would have been listed, anyway, wouldn’t you?”
Ginny’s frown deepened as she sifted through the pages. “I wonder why there’s no mention of his name?”
“His?”
Ginny blinked and then looked up. “I don’t know why I said that. It just came.”
“You said before that you didn’t remember who the teacher was, but you’d recognize him, wouldn’t you, if you saw him in here?”
“I don’t know. It was my first year of school, remember? And I was so timid. If it hadn’t been for Georgia, I probably wouldn’t have said a word all year.”
“You? Timid?”
She grinned. “I grew out of it.”
“Look through it anyway, from top to bottom. If you see someone familiar, let me know. I’m going to put on a pot of coffee. Dan should be here any time now, and if I know him, it’s the first thing he’ll ask for when he hits the door.”
“Okay,” Ginny said.
“Keep looking. I’ll be right back.”
Ginny started at the front of the book and began to study the faces of every teacher. Some she remembered vividly, others were only names that she’d heard. Mrs. Milam had been her first-grade teacher, and she quickly picked her out of the lot. By the time she got to the end, she was convinced that whoever had taught that class was not in this book.
“What did you find?” Sully asked, as he came back into the room.
“Nothing. Whoever he was, he’s not there.”
“You keep saying he.”
She hesitated and then nodded. “Yes, for some reason that seems right. But I don’t get a face or a name, only a sense of an overpowering presence.”
Sully frowned. That was an odd choice of words to associate with a teacher.
“What does Dan think?” Ginny asked.
Sully grinned. “He’s going to have my head, for one thing. I haven’t showed him the book.”
“But why?”
“I didn’t have it when everything first happened. My initial conversation was with the director and mainly about the other women. I gave them all the information I had at the time from Pagillia. Georgia was dead, and I was so stunned.” He paced the floor, remembering. “Stunned doesn’t even come close. I felt guilt for not being there when she needed me, and I was so damned mad that they believed she’d committed suicide. I know…knew…Georgia like a sister, and that’s the last thing she ever would have done.” He shoved his hands through his hair, spiking the short, straight ends even more. “Then it became a race with time, trying to find you before someone else did. After I got the yearbook from the convent, I tossed it into my luggage and forgot about it. By the time I found you, I had other things on my mind. After Carney Auger…well…I didn’t have much on my mind at all, except you. Not very professional for a Fed, is it?”
She smiled. “I’m not complaining.”
“No, but Dan will.”
“But I’ve seen the book, and nothing I saw relates to the case. Other than the fact that there’s no teacher for that class, of course.”
“Yes, but if Dan can locate any of the teachers who were there, they might be able to tell us something that you can’t.”
“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.” Then Ginny quickly leafed through the book, searching for a page she’d seen before. “Here,” she said, pointing to a picture near the front. “That’s Mr. Fontaine. He was the principal…actually, more like a headmaster. He was so nice. If anyone would remember the teacher, I’d think it would be him. He founded the school and did all the hiring and firing.”
Sully looked at Ginny with new respect. “Good job, honey. You might just have bailed me out of hot water with Dan.”
“My pleasure,” Ginny said. “I’ll take my pay later in kisses.”
Sully growled beneath his breath and started to reach for her when someone knocked at the door.
“I’ll get it,” Sully said. “It’s probably one of the guards.” Sure enough, when he opened the door, Franklin Chee nodded, then stepped inside. Dressed in an oversize shirt that was hanging loose on the outside of his jeans, he could have passed for a young man on vacation.
“What’s up?” Sully asked.
“Just got a call from the boss. Said he’s going to be a little bit late. Something about forgetting the Godivas?”
Sully laughed. “Okay, thanks.” Then he motioned for Ginny to come over. “Ginny, this is Franklin Chee. He and his brother, Webster, grew up in the area. The other agent is Kevin Holloway, who you saw yesterday while you were swimming.”
Ginny smiled and held out her hand. The man’s dark eyes flashed as he returned the gesture.
“Thank you so much for being here,” Ginny said. “When this nightmare started, I thought I’d be dealing with it alone. You don’t know how much your presence means to me.”
Franklin Chee nodded, taking great care not to stare at the healing cuts and bruises still evident on her face.
“It is our job, but this time it is also our pleasure,” he said quietly.
“Would you please pass my appreciation on to your brother and your friend?”
“Yes, miss.” Then he turned to Sully. “Is there anything you need?”
“A miracle?”
This time Franklin grinned. “I’m good, Sullivan, but not that good. The Navajo are remarkable people, but we have yet to walk on water.”
Ginny grinned as Sully laughed aloud. For the moment, she almost felt lighthearted. If she didn’t focus too much on the problem at hand, she could pretend this was a friend who’d just come for a visit. But then he turned to leave, and as he did, she caught a glimpse of his gun beneath his shirt. Just as suddenly, the game was over.
Sully closed the door. When he turned around, Ginny was gone.
“Ginny?”
“In the kitchen.”
He followed her there. “So, we’ve got a reprieve. Dan’s on his way, but his arrival isn’t as imminent as I’d imagined.” He glanced at his watch. It was already after one. “Are you hungry, honey? If you are, say the word.”
“These men put their lives on the line every day, don’t they, Sully?”
He leaned against the cabinets and folded his arms across his chest, studying the seriousness on her face.
“Yes, but it was a choice we made when we entered the program. It’s not a lot different from being a cop. We just patrol a larger area.”
“I guess. But it doesn’t stop me from feeling guilty that you’re here because of me.”
“No, that’s where you’re wrong. We’re here because someone caused six women to die. We don’t know how, but we still know it’s true.”
Her shoulders slumped. “I guess the most difficult part for me in all of this is that I can’t be in the middle of the hunt. I’m a reporter. I’m used to digging for the facts, not hiding from them.”
“Extraordinary situations call for extraordinary measures. You’re a target, Ginny. If you want to live, you stay out of sight.”
“I hate this.”
“Yeah, so do I. But there’s a part of me that recognizes a distasteful truth. If none of this had happened, I would never have known you, and I can’t imagine not having you in my life. I’ve learned one thing about this job over the years, and that is if you want to survive, you have to stay objective. I can’t be objective about you. I’m too close to the fire, so to speak.” He smiled and then pulled her into his arms, soothing the tension in her body by rubbing her back. “We’ll find out who’s making the calls, and when we do, we’ll have our man. Until then, you’re here.”
“Okay.”
“Okay. Now, how about some lunch? Dan will probably show up about the time we’re done. He can eat leftovers while we tell him about the yearbook. Maybe it’ll put him in a good mood.”
“Are you hungry, too?” Ginny asked.
“Yes, but not for food…for you.” He bit the edge of her lower lip and then gently traced the bite with the tip of his tongue.
“Sully, I—”
He shook his head and then held her close to his heart, fighting a fear that he could not keep her safe.
“How about ham sandwiches?” he asked.
Ginny sighed.
“I’ll put radishes in them, if you like.”
She buried her nose against his chest.
“You’re never going to let me hear the end of that, are you?”
Sully grinned. “Just because you’re a woman, it doesn’t automatically follow that you can cook. Now, do you want that sandwich or not?”
“Yes, but I can make them for us.”
Sully hesitated and then shrugged. She couldn’t ruin a ham sandwich. “Sure, why not? I’ll take mustard on mine, okay?”
“Want some cheese?”
“Yeah, sure. Add some cheese. Bread, ham, mustard, cheese.”
“Calm down,” Ginny muttered. “I will not sabotage your sandwich.”
“Thank you,” Sully said.
He was being silly on purpose, and she knew it. “You’re welcome,” she said and then grinned. “Now go away and let me do something domestic.”
“I’ll just be in the living room, watching TV.”
“Whatever,” Ginny said, as she began pulling the makings of their lunch from the fridge.
Sully eyed her nervously one last time and then left, reminding himself that he loved her, therefore he would eat anything her two little hands made. Even if it killed him.
It wasn’t until Ginny had all the makings laid out on the table and was ready to assemble the sandwiches that she realized they were going to appear quite ordinary. And if so, how could she impress Sully with her kitchen expertise?
Totally ignoring the fact that she had no expertise to display, she began rummaging through the drawers and shelves, looking for something to give the meal a flair. She reminded herself that Sully had asked for a specific combination, therefore he should have it. However, nothing was said about the way in which it should be presented, and when she stumbled onto the box of cookie cutters, her creative genius began to tick.
Sully was absently flipping channels while listening for Dan Howard’s arrival when Ginny called to him from the kitchen.
“Sully?”
“Yeah?”
“Lunch is ready.”
Tossing the remote aside, he strolled into the kitchen.
“I’m starved,” he said. “Hope you made a—” His gaze fell on the plate of sandwiches, and although he tried to hide his shock, he could tell by the look on her face that he hadn’t done a very good job. “They’re rabbits.”
Ginny struggled with the urge to hit him as she poured iced tea into their glasses.
“No. They’re ham and cheese sandwiches in the shape of rabbits.”
“Yeah, right. That’s what I meant.”
“So, aren’t you going to sit down?” Ginny asked.
“After you,” he said, and seated her first, which earned him one small point in his favor. But when he dropped into his chair and then picked up his fork to poke at the rabbit on top of the pile, Ginny stifled a snort.
“They’re dead. Trust me.”
Sully glared. “Don’t get all defensive with me, Virginia. I haven’t said a damned word against your food.”
“You are so conventional,” she muttered, and put two rabbits on her plate, then added a handful of carrot sticks and a couple of stuffed green olives for garnish.
Sully felt safe in going for the vegetables. At least they were in recognizable form.
“I didn’t know you liked olives,” he said, as he popped a couple into his mouth.
“I don’t,” Ginny said, and then bit off one of the rabbit’s ears.
Sully stared at the food on her plate, knowing when he asked that it was going to be the wrong thing to do, but the man in him needed to know anyway, if for no other reason than future reference.
“So, if you don’t like the olives, why did you put some on your plate?”
Ginny rolled her eyes, as if it was the stupidest question she’d ever heard.
“Because they look pretty, that’s why. Garnishes are an important part of food presentation.”
“Oh. Yeah. Right.”
“Good grief,” Ginny mumbled and bit off another ear. “What a dumb question.”
Sully stuffed a whole carrot stick in his mouth so he wouldn’t be expected to do anything but chew. But his stomach was growling, and the smell of deli ham and cheese was too enticing to ignore. He glanced toward the window, making sure that no one saw what he was about to do, and then scooted three of the rabbits onto his plate. He demolished the first in two bites, and to his surprise, it was good.
“Really good, Ginny.”
Resisting the urge to smirk, she nodded. “Thank you.”
“I think I saw some dip on the top shelf of the fridge. Want some to go with the carrot sticks?”
“Sure. That would be good.”
Now that he was moving onto firmer ground again, Sully bounded up from his chair and almost swaggered to the fridge. He was getting this woman stuff down pretty good. Whatever it was, praise it. Whatever she did weird, ignore it. Whenever she cried, hug her. And then the biggie. If she’s mad, don’t ask why, just apologize anyway. It’ll save a lot of time later on.
He reached for the container of ranch dip and started back to the table, admiring the tender curve at the nape of her neck when he heard the familiar sound of an approaching chopper.
“That must be Dan,” Ginny said, and jumped up from the table. “I’ll get another plate.”
He glanced nervously at the table. Oh hell. I’ll never hear the end of this . “He’s probably not hungry,” Sully said. “Are you finished? I’ll help you clean up.”
Ginny took the dip and pushed him out of the kitchen.
“No, I’m not finished. We’ve just begun. Now go get your friend and tell him to hurry. The bread’s drying out.”
“Can’t have that,” Sully muttered, as he stomped toward the door. “Damn it all, how did I let this happen?”
Dan came in the door without knocking.
“I come bearing gifts,” he said, handing over the champagne and a large gold-foiled box of the best Godiva chocolates, and he’d added a flourish of his own, a dozen red, long-stemmed roses. “Thought she deserved a little petting, right, buddy?”
“Thanks,” Sully said. “I owe you.”
“Actually, you do. A couple of hundred bucks should cover most of it.”
“You’ll get your money,” Sully said, and then hesitated.
The last thing he wanted was for Ginny’s feelings to get hurt. He needed to warn Dan what he was about to eat so he wouldn’t say the wrong thing. But he waited too long. Ginny was already here.
“Hey, beautiful!” Dan said. “Did you miss me?”
Ginny grinned. “You liked this place so much you just couldn’t stay away, right?”
“For you,” Sully said quickly and thrust the flowers at her, hoping it would delay the inevitable. To his delight, Ginny’s smile lit up the room.
“Oh, Sully…I can’t remember the last time anyone gave me flowers.”
Since he was doing so well, he thought he’d go for the gold and handed her the chocolates, too.
“Oh my gosh,” Ginny groaned. “Godiva! I am in heaven.”
“I’ll hang on to the champagne, since your hands are full.” Then he gave Dan a cool look. “Besides, I’m not sharing this with him.”
Ginny hesitated, then followed her instincts and quickly kissed Sully on the cheek.
“Thank you so much,” she said softly. “I’d better put these in water.” Her smile was particularly vivid as she turned to Dan. “We just started lunch. Come join us.”
“Great!” Dan said. “I’m starved.” He took her by the arm as they left the room.
Defeated, Sully followed them. “What the hell. They’re only rabbits.”
“I need to wash up before I eat,” Dan said.
“Bathroom is down the hall,” Ginny offered.
“No need. I’ll just wash right here at the sink.”
He quickly soaped and rinsed and reached for the hand towel as he turned around.
“What’s for lunch?” he asked, as he moved toward the table.
“Just ham and cheese sandwiches,” Ginny said. “Have a seat.”
Dan scooted a chair up to his place and then cast a curious eye around the table.
“Where are the—”
The sharp blow to his shin was not only startling, it came damn near to bringing tears to his eyes.
“What in hell did—”
Sully handed him the platter. “Take a couple,” he said, slowly enunciating every word.
The look that passed between them was brief, but once Dan saw the sandwiches, it didn’t take him long to get the hint. Straightfaced, he unloaded three of the hammy hares onto his plate and then dutifully piled on a handful of carrot sticks and a half-dozen olives, although he would have preferred plain old chips. With a wink at Ginny, he took a big bite and then rolled his eyes in exaggerated ecstasy.
“Ummmnnn. I don’t know when I last had rabbit.”
Ginny threw an olive at his head and rolled her eyes in disgust.
He grinned around a mouthful and then started to chew. A few moments later, he looked up.
“These are actually really good.”
“I know,” Ginny said.
“Then can I ask you a question. And I’m not being facetious, okay? I really want to know.”
Ginny sighed. “Ask away.”
“Why rabbits?”
Sully leaned forward, too, glad that Dan had asked what he’d been dying to know himself.
“Because they’re cute,” she said.
Both men looked at Ginny, then at each other. To their credit, neither one cracked a smile.
“Well, sure,” Dan said. “That they are.” And to prove he was serious, he danced one through the air all the way to his mouth.