Strangers When We Married

At quarter to eight, Mark breezed into the office, startled to find her already at her desk. “Ah, the early bird gets the worm,” he said. “Only in this case it should be the early bird gets the best doughnuts.” He placed a box of pastries on her desk as she clicked out of the Montana newspaper she’d been perusing.

“What are you doing here so early?” Mark asked as he took off his coat and hung it on the coat tree just inside the front door.

“I just got around earlier than usual this morning,” she said as she scooted her chair to his desk and opened the box of doughnuts. “Hmm, these look wonderful.” She grabbed a glazed one as the heavenly scent filled the office.

“It’s going to be a slow day,” Mark said as he went to the coffeemaker and poured himself a cup of the brew. He then perched on the edge of his desk and grabbed one of the doughnuts from the box. “In fact, it’s going to be a slow week with the holidays coming up so fast.”

The holidays. Christmas.

Meghan had always hated the holidays…first as a child, then as an adult. And Christmas was the worst holiday of them all.

“I think I’ll spend the day putting up decorations outside,” Mark said thoughtfully. “I should have done it before now, but I just haven’t taken the time. Did you see the display in the window next door?”

Meghan nodded. The dry cleaners who shared the building with them had gone all out. A huge evergreen tree stood in their window, complete with sparkling lights and ornaments consisting of little doll clothes all glittered and sequined in traditional Christmas colors.

“Why bother putting stuff up?” Meghan said between bites. “You’ll just have to take it all down again.”

“Oh, do I sense a touch of Scrooge in my lovely colleague?” Mark raised a sandy eyebrow teasingly.

Meghan blushed and shrugged. “I just think there’s too much holiday hype.”

“I adore holiday hype. Have you taken Kirk to see Santa yet?”

“No way. He’s too young to be traumatized by a fat guy in a red suit.” Meghan popped the last of the doughnut into her mouth and daintily licked sugar from her fingers.

“Definitely a Scrooge,” Mark said with a grin.

She laughed and wheeled her chair back in front of her desk and clicked on her in-box, not surprised to find a dozen files waiting for her attention.

As a communications expert, her job entailed analyzing diplomatic communiquеs, studying the language used in official speeches and various other materials, then writing detailed reports on what was said and what she believed was meant. Often the two were very different.

Mark finished his doughnut, then disappeared into the large storage closet. He returned carrying a large box filled with glittering garland, plastic evergreen boughs and giant candy canes. “I’ll be outside playing one of Santa’s elves if you need me,” he said.

A moment later Meghan once again found herself alone in the office. As much as she wanted to find the information Seth sought and get him out of her house, she knew she didn’t dare spend any more time on his problem right now. She needed to get to her own work so as not to rouse suspicion.

She worked for the next four hours, breaking only to refill her coffee mug and occasionally stand to stretch her muscles. Mark spent the time outside, wrestling with a ladder as he hung lights, garland and giant candy canes from the top of the building.

The door flew open just before noon and a delivery man walked in. He wore an apron that advertised Ling Choo Chinese Cuisine and carried a bag containing a half-dozen take-out cartons.

Mark must have ordered in, Meghan thought in delight. She pulled out her wallet, but the man waved it away, declaring it had already been taken care of.

When the delivery man left, she opened the cartons to find all her favorites…sweet and sour chicken, won ton soup and crab rangoon. There was also chicken chow mein, which she knew was Mark’s favorite.

“Hey, Chinese…great idea,” Mark said as he came in, his cheeks ruddy from the cold.

“What do you mean? I thought you ordered it,” she replied.

“Not me…you didn’t?” Mark took off his coat and pulled his chair over next to hers.

She shook her head and frowned. “It must be a mistake. The delivery man must have gone to the wrong office or something. We’d better call them.”

“Let’s not be hasty,” Mark said as he peered at the contents of the cartons. “Odd, isn’t it? Everything you like is here and everything I like is here. Was there anything else in the bag?”

“Just a couple of loose fortune cookies.” Meghan retrieved the plastic bag the food had arrived in. “Surely you don’t think…” She pulled out the two fortune cookies and looked at Mark expectantly.

Mark grinned and shook his head ruefully. “He’s been wily before. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s contacted us through take-out food.”

Meghan knew exactly who Mark was talking about. Jonah. Their elusive boss who seemed to be everywhere and nowhere. Mark grabbed one of the fortune cookies, cracked it open and withdrew the fortune.

“Good fortune will smile on you. Lucky numbers are three, five and seven.” He looked up and smiled at Meghan. “Maybe I should buy a lottery ticket on the way home tonight.”

Meghan broke her cookie apart and pulled out the fortune. “A package has gone missing from the eagle’s nest. If contact is made, notify me.” It was signed with a familiar J. Meghan’s heart quickened.

Mark frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Seth.” She wondered if Mark could hear her heart thundering in her chest. It pounded so hard he must hear it. “He’s talking about Seth, who disappeared from the Condor two nights ago.”

Mark’s brows rose. “He did? How do you know about that?”

Meghan forced a dry smile. “I’m a communications expert, Mark. I know lots of things.”

To her relief, he seemed to accept her explanation at its face value. He picked up a set of chopsticks and grabbed the carton of chow mein. “I don’t think anyone has to worry about Seth contacting you. Not only do I remember the crime of the century, but I also remember your and Seth’s parting as the divorce of the century.”

“Please, don’t remind me.” Meghan set the note aside and tried to keep the nervous tremble of her hand under control.

“I wish somebody would send me to the Condor for about a month of rest and relaxation.” Mark stuck a mouthful of chow mein into his mouth. “I guess Seth isn’t into vacations.”

“I’m sure Jonah is just checking with all of Seth’s past acquaintances within the organization.” At least that’s what she hoped.

She drew in a deep breath to steady herself. She didn’t like subterfuge of any kind. Damn Seth for getting her involved in this.

Still, she’d been with the agency long enough to know that this note from Jonah indicated a low-priority concern. If Jonah was truly troubled by Seth’s defection from the resort, he wouldn’t be contacting people with notes in food that could be easily tossed away. She would have received a phone call from the man himself.

She relaxed somewhat, certain that Jonah had no idea Seth was presently hiding out in her home. But the note from Jonah filled her with apprehension.

She had to find what Seth needed as quickly as possible. The last thing she’d want to happen was to lose her job because she’d chosen loyalty for a man she’d once believed she’d loved over loyalty to SPEAR.

She’d already lost enough to Seth…. She was determined not to lose anything else because of him.

Chapter 4

Seth stirred the pot of spaghetti sauce that bubbled on the stove, hoping Meghan would be home from work any time. It had been a lousy day. He’d paced the confines of the house like a prisoner in a jail cell, his thoughts his only companion. And his thoughts were not particularly pleasant.

The faces of the men who’d died in the L.A. sting operation haunted him. The scent of smoke and gun-fire lingered in his head, and in that memory, another memory shoved through. It was the distant echo of a tragedy from years before…memories he’d consciously shoved away for almost half his life.

He realized that since the sting, it was as much his distant past haunting him as the more recent catastrophe and he didn’t know why.

He’d spent part of the day in Kirk’s room, running his hand over the blankets that covered his son at night, touching the toys and stuffed animals that were neatly lined up on the shelves of a colorful bookcase.