Chapter 27 #2
“Look, Marion gave me the coded note to you from Elena—written during the undercover operation and meant for you. You should read it.” In a hurry to get this done suddenly, she lifted the envelope from her lap and held it out to him again with a steady hand.
“You read it?” He eyed the envelope without taking it, letting her hand dangle there between them.
“No. Marion read it but couldn’t make sense of it. She got a note too. She told me what it said.” She jabbed it in his direction and scowled at him. “Goddamn it, Dane. It’s a note, not a bomb.”
“May as well be a bomb.”
“You already believe the worst—do you have a need to be a martyr? I didn’t take you for someone who’d waste his energy on so useless a plight.”
“I’ve been wasting my energy on useless plights all my life—”
“We saved Susan Whittier.”
He paused a beat and she watched him digest the notion of their triumph. It seemed so much bigger a week ago. Then he reached out and took the envelope from her. But he didn’t open it. “You gonna sit there and stare at me while I read it? Take my temperature, feel my forehead?”
Shana got up, surprised to find her legs trembling, and left the room, closing the door behind her gently.
* * *
The coded note told him everything he thought he always wanted to hear. That Elena had not betrayed him, that she’d been compromised and taken hostage. She’d been killed in the blast. But in the end, it hadn’t been about her betrayal. She was still gone. All his pain had been about the loss.
It had been easier to think that she’d betrayed him. That gave him anger to fall back on. Far preferable to the awful gnawing pain of loss. And now. He felt it—all the pain. Fresh as a gutting with a fisherman’s knife.
He tossed the envelope and her note on the floor and doubled over holding his hands over his ears as if it would stop him from knowing. From knowing everything he’d lost. From knowing how good she was. How dead and gone she was.
It had been a long time—a good thirty years—since the last time Dane cried.
But he made up for that now with excruciating anguished sobs, not caring that this was a public reception room in a hospital.
For several minutes he let his wracked body release all the pain and agony that had been bottled up.
Still sitting in the chair, spent, he scraped a hand over his face and straightened.
Lifting himself as if he weighed a thousand pounds, he walked back down the hall into the small washroom just inside Cap’s hospital room door and splashed cold water on his face and looked in the mirror.
He had the same bloodshot eyes he started the day with. He had the same heavy heart.
But there was a difference. He turned from the mirror. The difference was in his soul. The ravaged beaten-down soul inside him had new life. He felt relief from the hopelessness. Shana’s words echoed in his mind. We saved Susan Whittier.
He emerged from the washroom and walked to Cap’s bedside. He’d no idea where Shana had gone while she let him wallow through his misery, but he bet it wasn’t far, knowing her. She’d stay close in case she needed to save him. He smiled at Cap.
“Dane? You okay?”
“Me? You’re the one in the hospital bed with a sling on his shoulder.”
A moment later Shana appeared at the door, tall and lithe and gorgeous. She stopped and stared at him a minute as he stood bed-side, like she was studying him for signs of lunacy before she thought it safe to come in.
“Don’t worry. I’m unarmed. I won’t hurt you.” He looked at her without his mask on.
She stepped into the room.
“Thank you,” he said to Shana. She nodded, gave him a tentative smile.
“By the way, you look goddamn gorgeous if you don’t mind me being a chauvinist pig or whatever un-PC thing it is to call a spade a spade.”
She laughed. “I call it Dane being Dane, if you want to know.”
Cap snorted a laugh at that. “Well said.” Then he turned to Dane and said, “Get the hell away from my bed. Have a seat. I’ll order us some coffees.”
Dane and Shana resumed their chairs in front of Cap’s bed, same as if they were in front of his desk, like old times, Dane thought, except it was only a short time ago by the calendar.
“So the note was enlightening?” Cap asked in a serious voice.
“Confirms what I knew underneath.” That’s all he was willing to say on the subject. The rawness of it chafed him, pained him like a stab in his gut.
“So what’ll you do next?” Cap asked. “Ever think of doing more local work?”
Cap had that cat-and-canary look, being the poor poker player he was.
“Spill it, Cap,” Shana said. Dane smiled at his girl.
“By local I mean, say, the east coast.”
“What kind of work?” Shana asked.
“I might have some freelance assignments for you,” Cap said.
“You?”
“By me I mean the governor.”
Dane grinned.
“Then I’d have to go legit. Set up shop.”
“I could see it now—Beachcomber Investigations,” Shana said with a half laugh.
“Could work.” Dane looked at her, trying to decipher what was on that devious mind behind the perfect beach bunny exterior. Then he decided since she took a chance on him—a big one—he needed to take a chance on her. Wanted to, if he were honest.
“Could use a partner.” He stared at her, struggling to keep his mask from shutting down his face and mentally crossing his fingers as he felt his chest tighten until he was no longer breathing.
* * *
“You think you have room for me on the payroll? I’m expensive.” Her smile faded as she watched him.
“I like it—Beachcomber Investigations. Blaise and George.” He winked at her and stood.
She popped from her chair and flung herself into his open arms. She was far from sure what it meant, only sure she felt joy at that moment.
He enveloped her, surrounding her with the faint scent of ocean, cigar smoke and gunpowder.
It felt like home to her. It felt good. It felt unsteady and scary.
They stayed put for a minute or two before she heard Cap cough and felt Dane get restless.
Pushing herself from Dane, she smoothed her dress. He didn’t let her go, not all the way. He held one of his arms at her back as he faced Cap.
“I’ll call you when the partnership’s official.”
“Don’t wait too long,” Cap said, eyeing them, moving his glance from her to Dane and back. Emotions swirled through her, heady and new and confusing.
“A business partnership or a love affair?” Cap asked.
“Million dollar question,” Dane said.
“We’ll let you know when we know,” Shana said.
# The End #