The Final Mission

He didn’t miss the way her gaze brightened. Not enough to tick him off, but enough to let him know she’d been hoping for a little cooperation from him.

Of course she had. She had a nightmare to put to bed, and the answer might be in Mary’s things.

He might have grown mad again, but his capacity for anger had lessened with time. As if he’d burned out so much of it all he could do was simmer, and his flare-ups were limited in scope and duration. He’d lived with the unanswered questions for a long time now: Why Mary? Why her, why that moment, that place? There were no answers, at least none he’d ever gotten. It was war. No other answer.

But this woman was seeking a different answer. He doubted any answers she found would do him any good, one way or another at this point. But they might do her some good.

And finding good in much these days was like trying to wring blood from stone.

“You got a suitcase?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s go get it and I’ll show you the room. Need anything to eat?”

“I’m fine.”

He doubted it. But he wasn’t fine, either.

Chapter 2

Courtney barely noticed the guest room and hall bath. She had driven almost straight through from Georgia, she was still on east coast time, and for her that meant it was nearly 1:00 a.m.

She should have fallen straight to sleep, but instead she was restless, dealing with the unexpected storm that had hit her the instant she saw Dom. God, he looked good enough to eat. She’d never felt that kind of instant attraction to a man, where her body wanted to melt the instant she clapped eyes on him.

And she hated herself for it. He was Mary’s husband. She’d come here to do a job, nothing else. And damn it, she should never have accepted his offer to stay. Awareness of him, so instant, unexpected and overwhelming, seemed to hang around her now that she was staying in his house.

She should have gotten the hell out as quickly as she gracefully could and found a motel. Somewhere she wouldn’t be lying awake wondering if she’d lost her mind, if she’d been alone too long or what?

Because a man’s appearance shouldn’t have struck her that way. It never had before. Damn, it was a wonder she hadn’t sat there drooling. And the waves of shame that washed over her were almost enough to make her weep.

Rolling over, she pounded the pillow a couple of times as if she could make it softer. Tomorrow. She’d stick out one day and then leave before she did something she’d feel guilty about forever. With that resolution, she finally fell into a sleep disturbed by nightmares that never left her anymore. Nightmares of unbearable heat, mutilated bodies and screams.

Morning arrived in twilight, early it seemed, but she could hear voices downstairs, and the wonderful aroma of cooking bacon. Her mouth started watering almost before her eyes opened. How long had it been since she had allowed herself a strip of bacon?

She heard the light patter of young boys’ voices, answered by the deeper tones of their father. The sounds were as inviting as the smells, and she hopped out of bed, heading for the bathroom.

She’d barely noticed last night, but she noticed this morning: the bathroom was spotless, as if awaiting a white-glove inspection. It struck her, because this was a bachelor household now, and most bachelors she knew didn’t care much about such things.

But as she walked downstairs, she noted that the entire house seemed to be orderly and spotless, far more than her own apartment and she thought she was a clean freak.

Entering the kitchen, she found the twins sitting at the oak table and Dominic standing at the stove, frying eggs. The boys immediately fell silent, and Dom turned. His smile seemed small but natural enough.

“Boys, this is Ms. Tyson. She knew your mom.”

The boys surprised her by pushing back from the table and politely standing. “Hi, I’m Kyle,” said one and his clone said, “I’m Todd. Nice to meet you.”

Kyle bounced around the table to hold a chair out for her and she sat. Two pairs of dark eyes, very like their dad’s, stared at her.

“Your mom showed me pictures of you,” she ventured. “I always asked how she could tell you apart.”

Kyle scoffed. “She never had a problem. We’re not exactly the same. Dad can tell us apart, too.”

“That doesn’t keep you from trying to fool me,” Dom remarked, which got him a pair of laughs.

There was already a hefty platter of bacon on the table, and now Dom brought her a cup of coffee. She reached for it, holding it in both hands as she tried to figure out how to talk to the boys. She didn’t have a lot of experience with kids.

Todd spoke. “Lots of Mom’s friends came to visit. I guess they liked her a lot.”

“I certainly liked her. And I admired her. Your mom was a hero.” She saw Dom’s back stiffen as he stood at the stove, and realized he feared she might get into her purpose in coming. She felt a moment of annoyance that he might think she was that insensitive, then reminded herself he didn’t know her at all, and she had come barging into his life with an upsetting story and no prior warning.

“Yeah,” said Kyle. “We have her medals. And a flag.”

A pretty pathetic substitute, Courtney thought, then looked down for fear her face might give away her darkening thoughts.

She was saved by the arrival of a platter of cheesy scrambled eggs on the table, and as soon as Dom sat, the platters began to move her way. She took a slice of buttered toast, a strip of bacon and a spoonful of eggs, trying not to think about cholesterol.

“You don’t eat much,” Kyle remarked.

“I don’t work as hard as you guys do.” Safe assumption, she supposed, although at her last physical the doctor had told her to gain some weight, that she’d slipped far enough for it to be a concern.

It wasn’t as if she was trying to lose weight. She just didn’t feel like eating much anymore. This whole thing with Mary gnawed at her like a hungry shark.

Conversation came to a halt as two ravenous boys ate, then jumped up to grab jackets and backpacks. She watched as Dom made sure they had everything.

“I’m going to take them to the bus stop,” he told her. “Back in about twenty minutes.”

She watched them go out the back door and felt an ache she couldn’t quite explain to herself. She had never been interested in the whole marriage and family thing. Not ever. All her life she’d been oriented toward other goals, and toward her career.

But she ached anyway at the sight of a big, strong man ushering two small boys gently out the door to catch a school bus.

Man, she was losing it.

Losing it enough that she helped herself to a second strip of bacon and another spoonful of eggs. Damn the cholesterol anyway. Enough was enough.

And enough was the entire reason she was here. She had helped lead Mary to her death, and she wasn’t willing to let the culprits go free. No way.

Dom returned in twenty minutes as he’d promised. His booted feet clomped on the mudroom floor as he doffed his jacket and hung his keys on a wall hook. He gave her another reserved smile and a nod before he went to freshen his coffee.

He was such an attractive man, attractive in a way she wasn’t used to: weather and work hardened, lean-muscled, not bulked up. And there was the easy way he walked across the kitchen, a man at home in his body.

She supposed she should feel guilty for even noticing. Guilty for a helpless, unwanted sexual response.

“I should clear up the dishes,” she said, feeling awkward about imposing again.

“Naw, it’ll keep. If you don’t want any more, I need to add it to the compost.”

“You made enough for an army,” she tried to joke.