“I recognize the symptoms. I was in love with another agent for three years. Unrequited.”
“That’s serious self-torture.”
Hill rolled onto her back and fell against the pillows with a small defeated huff. “I was an idiot.”
“What happened?” Jude tugged the sheets up and covered them both.
“It’s strange.” Hill sounded sad and disillusioned. “For a while I thought she felt the same way I did. We kept dancing around each other, getting close, then pulling away. In the end nothing happened. We both let go and the connection died.”
“Do you still work with her?” That would have to be awkward.
“No. She switched to another division.”
“I didn’t know if you were gay or straight,” Jude confessed.
“That’s good. I knew you were queer the minute I saw you.”
“Also good. Why did you decide to sleep with me?” Jude asked.
“You’re hot.”
“Albeit a disappointment.”
“It’s okay.” Hill laughed. “I know you can do better.”
“Yep.” Jude stared at the ceiling. An uneasy certainty gripped her. “Did you fake it, too?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Shit.” Jude propped herself on one elbow and traced a hand over Hill’s pleasantly full breasts. “It may not seem that way, but I’m technically proficient. Tell me what gets you off, and this time you won’t have to pretend.”
“Tempting offer, but I’m not wet thinking about it.”
“We’re talking too much,” Jude said. “Getting into our heads.”
“Maybe that’s it,” Hill conceded.
Jude glanced around. The lighting wasn’t right. She should have burned candles instead of leaving the night-light on. And the room was chilly. Then there was Yiska. It was hard not to be aware of a cat sitting on the ottoman a few feet away, eyes glazed with disgust.
“I have a lot on my mind.” Jude almost talked herself into self-pity. But what was she thinking? Finally she had a woman in her bed and they were navel-gazing.
“The Maulle homicide?”
Jude nodded. “We’re waiting on DNA results, but it looks like our killers could be in the morgue in Miami. Meantime the case has split wide open. Arms dealing. Child pornography. The Russian mafia.”
“You’ve got the guys who killed him. Your job’s done. Hand the loose ends on to the Bureau.”
“Good advice.” Jude refrained from mentioning that she’d already come to the same conclusion. “There’s something I need to run by you, another reason I’ve underperformed.”
“Wow, you’re really on a roll.”
“Harrison Hawke has a meeting planned with the ASS.”
“Really?” Hill put a little more space between them, her stare intent. “When were you going to tell me about this?”
“I wasn’t.”
“So Hawke’s involved?”
“No, not in the plot.”
“And you know this how?’
“We’re acquainted.” Jude played the local law enforcement card. “He holds these so-called Aryan Defense Days at his compound and I got stuck with the liaison job, dealing with him and the protesters. For some reason that convinced him I’m a secret sympathizer.”
“Are you?”
“Jesus, was my oral sex technique
that
bad?”
“I’m not crazy about racists. Blame it on my African American grandma.” Hill narrowed her eyes. “Are you saying Hawke told you about the meeting?”
“No,” Jude lied earnestly. “I was at his compound discussing his request for increased protection for an event in a few months’ time. I overheard him talking to one of his men.”
“What’s the deal? Is he trying to muscle in on the attack for kudos?”
“No, he’s trying to stop them from going ahead with it. He thinks it’ll set the white power movement back fifty years.”
“Like they’re not living in 1950.” Hill was silent for a few seconds, her fingers drumming an impatient beat against the bedcover. “When is this happening?”
“Tomorrow,” Jude said. Arbiter wanted last minute. It didn’t get any better than this.
Hill bolted out of bed. “Jesus, why didn’t you tell me?”
“We were otherwise engaged.”
“Sex? That’s your reason?” Hill started getting dressed.
“What are you doing?” Jude asked.
“My job,” Hill replied scornfully. “You were right about Moon, by the way. I think one of his people has ties with the ASS. It seems possible that they’re behind this plot.”
“You’re kidding me?”
“You should have more confidence in your analysis.” Hill combed her hair. “You could kick ass in counterintelligence.”
Jude spluttered a laugh that made Hill look at her twice.
As the unsatisfied agent left the bedroom, she called over her shoulder, “If this operation goes well, I’ll be sure to mention your contribution.”
“Thanks,” Jude replied. “You could leave out the flunk grade for the orgasm detail.”
She heard Hill laugh. Seconds later the front door slammed shut.
Chapter Eighteen
The bed dipped with the weight of another person. Lured from her snug morning doze, Debbie drifted toward full awakening as Lone’s hard body moved against hers. A husky murmur warmed her ear. “I have a surprise for you.”
Debbie rolled over and opened her eyes.
“I’m not sure if I can handle too many more of those.”
“Sore?” Lone chuckled.
“I’m fine so long as I’m not walking or sitting down.”
“That doesn’t leave many options. Are you saying you’ll have to spend the next two days laying flat on your back?”
Debbie gazed into Lone’s remarkable blue eyes. Running a finger over her no-nonsense mouth, she said, “Gee, now that you mention it, isn’t that how I got into this state? Not that I’m complaining.”
Far from it. In fact, Debbie couldn’t believe how wonderful this week had been. From the moment she’d set foot in Lone’s cabin on Monday, she’d gotten to know her lover on a whole new level. The discoveries were amazing. Lone had talked about her childhood and shown Debbie photographs of her family and her comrades in the 82
nd
Airborne. She’d answered questions and listened to Debbie’s opinions. They’d discussed the future, even the possibility of having a baby one day.
Debbie had always seen the tender side of Lone, but she’d also been aware of a constant tension in her. She understood that Lone’s moodiness probably came from stress and anxiety related to her experiences in combat. She’d grown so accustomed to the way things were, she didn’t realize how many allowances and compromises she made, and how often she felt hurt and excluded. Until now.
Like magic, something had lifted the weight of the past from Lone. The hair-trigger anger had gone and she was calm and happy. Debbie had to believe the change in their relationship was the key factor in this transformation. Lone had finally let her in, and now that she didn’t keep so much hidden the strain between them had disappeared. They were connected as never before.
Planting a contented kiss on Lone’s lips, Debbie said, “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Debbie doll. Very much. Do you believe me?”
“With all my heart.”
Lone kissed her deeply. “There’s something I want to share with you.”
“You can tell me anything.”
“I know.” Lone’s expression was full of trust and devotion. “You have no idea what it means to hear you say that.”
Debbie melted. “Is this the surprise? That you really love me?”
“No, there’s a little more to it than that.” Lone held a photograph in front of her. She ran her fingers in a loop across the image. “All this land is ours. I’ve put your name on the title.”
Debbie gasped. “You didn’t need to do that.”
“You’re my partner. Everything I have is yours.”
The place was beautiful. A partially built cabin stood on a rise overlooking a sapphire blue lake. There was also a luxury trailer home parked nearby.
“It’s amazing,” Debbie said. She wondered if there was a supermarket nearby. The property looked to be in the middle of nowhere, with no other houses in sight.
Lone stroked her hair and kissed her softly on the forehead. “I know you’re worried about moving, so I have a plan.” She unfolded a sheet of paper, a printed-out e-ticket. “We’re flying up there today.”
“But we just drove here.”
“Baby, this is the house I lived in with Madeline. I want to take you to a place that’s only ours, yours and mine. I promise you, if you don’t like it up there, that’s fine. We’ll stay in Colorado.”
“Really? You really mean that?”
Debbie was assailed with guilt. She knew Lone wanted to move permanently, and having seen the glorified shack in Pariah, she wasn’t surprised. The fabulous setup in Canada was infinitely more appealing. Debbie studied the picture again. The least she could do was make the trip up there and keep an open mind. Even if they didn’t move there, it would probably be a lovely place to take a vacation.
“I should have packed warmer clothes,” she said. “If I’d known—”
Lone looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I just decided on the spur of the moment.”
“Whoa. You made a spur-of-the-moment decision?” Debbie giggled.
“I know.” Lone laughed with her. “I guess we better get used to it. With everything so…different between us now, I kind of lost my mind. I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
Debbie felt close to tears. She’d been so afraid everything would slip away that she’d behaved like a coward in their relationship. Her fear of being alone in the world had almost created the very reality she dreaded. She was so clingy Lone had to find space and had excluded her. Now that she was acting like a real partner, things had changed. Debbie promised herself she wasn’t going to let baggage from the past rule her again.
“So, what do you think?” There was a hint of nervousness in Lone’s voice, proof that she wasn’t taking Debbie’s agreement for granted.
“I’d love to go,” Debbie said wholeheartedly. “Thank you for inviting me.”
*
Harrison Hawke deactivated his elaborate alarm system and led Jude into a secure room at the back of the house. The space had been expanded recently and was fitted out as a weapons room.
Jude scanned the shelves and storage racks, amazed by the huge cache of special forces weaponry. An array of MP5 submachine guns occupied a lockable cabinet. Numerous M4 carbines were ranked along one wall, with various optics and accessories like M203 grenade launchers. Arranged next to these were Heckler & Koch G3s, AK-47s, and a sniper rifle collection that included a heavy-duty Barrett M107 .50-caliber, several SR25s, and a short-range G3 SG1. Jude noticed specialized tear-gas rounds next to a bunch of Remington 870 pump-action shotguns.
“Wow, I’ve never seen one of these.” She picked up an XM8 assault rifle, a lightweight modular weapon barely out of the experimental phase.
“It was a gift from my friends in Buenos Ares,” Hawke said. “Don’t be deceived because it looks like a toy.”