Jae's Assignment (3 page)

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Authors: Bernice Layton

Tags: #Interracial romance;FBI Witness Protection;Psychiatry;Military;African-American

BOOK: Jae's Assignment
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He shouldn’t have had the beer. He was getting sleepy already. Leaving his barstool, he strolled closer to the dance floor and leaned lazily against one of the four columns. He wasn’t watching the couples dancing, he was admiring the skills of the saxophone player and listening to the singers whose beautiful voices drew him into the lovely melody. He was losing himself in the music, but when the hair on the back of his neck rose, he let his eyes do a slow pan of the room.

Standing a few feet away was the woman he’d spotted coming in earlier. Like him, she was leaning against a column at the edge of the dance floor, but she was several feet away.

And she watched him with the most beautiful chocolate brown eyes he’d ever seen.

Jae came into the lounge to find Dr. Trevor Grant.

After several minutes of searching, she saw him as he left the bar. She didn’t recognize him immediately. Actually, she wouldn’t have recognized him at all if she hadn’t caught his penetrating blue gaze in the mirror behind the bar. Then she picked up on his carefree, yet confident strides when he walked toward the dance floor.

Gone was the ponytail, the full beard, the scraggly-looking mustache and nerdy wire-rimmed eyeglasses.

Who knew he had full lips and a strong squared chin underneath all of that? His long dark brown hair was now short, straight, and fell slightly over his forehead. But it was his blue eyes she’d caught when he glanced in her direction that she remembered the most.

Recalling how she had looked and dressed when she was undercover in his office, Jae was positive he didn’t recognize her. She’d been totally incognito in those bulky thrift store clothes she had worn. But it was more than that. She’d also worn hazel contact lenses over her chocolate brown eyes. The wigs she’d had to wear were three shades lighter than her own chestnut brown hair, and the artfully applied makeup, including eyebrow enhancements, all blended very well. She hadn’t even recognized herself. She didn’t want to think about the extra padding she’d worn beneath her clothes to make her appear heavier. But tonight, she’d donned black satin capri slacks, a black crop top exposing a portion of her midriff, and strappy sandals. It was an outfit befitting a Friday night happy hour. Not accustomed to wearing lipstick, she resisted wiping it off in her palm and pulling out her tube of ChapStick.

At five feet, six inches tall with a thin build and clear mocha complexion, Jae always drew looks from men. But tonight she was looking for a date. Her chestnut brown hair hung in loose waves, barely grazing her shoulders as she circled the outer perimeter of the dance floor like a panther stalking its meal for the day.

All the while she kept one eye on the doctor and the other eye on her surroundings. She’d already mentally noted the locations of the exits and suspicious-looking patrons. She’d also committed to memory the faces of the four lounge staff and the six members of the band.

So far nothing and no one stood out as a potential threat.

After a quick glance at her watch, she saw it was time to make her approach. She would express interest in hooking up with him. It was the ruse to get him out of there.

But he was enjoying the music and smiling.
Good Lord!
His head bobbed along with the saxophone player. Jae guessed he liked jazz as she caught the occasional movements of his fingers.

Jae assessed him as he moved closer to the edge of the dance floor. She also noticed the heads of several women following him appreciatively as he passed by their tables.

He’s not bad looking
, she thought cynically. He was even sexy one might say and he caught her eye and captured her attention in a way that sent a rush of heat to her face. But that definitely hadn’t been the case a couple of months ago. Then, he’d been a hairy, nerdy, dry wheat toast researcher. He’d never cracked a smile and whatever music he liked was his own business and heard only by him through the earbuds of his iPod glued to his big ears, which she thought now didn’t seem too big for his head.
He’s…really good looking
, she thought, running her eyes over his muscular arms and athletic physique.
Who knew?
But she hadn’t been sent to his office to get to know him any more than was necessary.

She caught a hint of a smile he flashed, she almost flopped back against the wall as a sensuous flame settled in her chest. There was definitely a tenderness in his eyes that sent shivers down her spine. Her gaze then halted on his lips. Sexy and full, and damn if he didn’t just lick them, causing her pulse to beat erratically. Oh, this wasn’t good.
This guy is a total turn-on
, she thought, recognizing the telltale ever-tightening knot below her belly button, and she had to look away from him, embarrassed and flushed. She commanded herself to remember why she was there, but when she caught his stare again, her heartbeat hammered in her ears.
Ah shit, I don’t have time for this
, she thought,
I have to stay focused
.

When the musical selection ended with applause, Jae moved closer, but had to cringe against the shrill whistles that mingled with the applause.

Jae found it disconcerting that she was drawn to him. No. She wasn’t drawn to him but the overtime money she was earning while on R&R. Maybe this could be a great ending to her current special agent classification. She just knew Grainger would give her a glowing recommendation when she officially requested the reassignment to cyber crime. The position involved less travel and more benefits. It was a win-win in her mind. All of that made the completion of this assignment that much more special to Jae.

As she continued to study Grant’s profile, Jae heard that another band selection was ending in applause. Shocked that she had been gawking at the doctor that long, she glanced from right to left self-consciously and spotted someone she hadn’t seen before. The man was watching the doctor with an intensity that put her on alert.

Urgency to get him out solidified when she saw there was something peculiar about the man. It made him an immediate threat.

Grant was now out in the open as several couples left the dance floor. Squaring her shoulders and painting a smile on her face, Jae sauntered over to him.

“Would you like to dance?”

At first, Trevor wasn’t sure the woman was talking to him. He looked around before returning his attention to her. He’d spotted her at least three times already, but this time was up close, and she was even lovelier.

Unfortunately, as tempting as her offer was, he couldn’t take a chance. He could see himself getting caught up with her, dancing and missing his contact. “Well, as enticing as that sounds, I’ll have to pass,” he said pleasantly and touched the back of her hand, which clutched a small black sequined purse. “Maybe another time…definitely another time,” he murmured, before looking over her head of wavy hair to the entrance of the jazz lounge.

“Not even a quick dance?”

Trevor noticed her looking behind him. Maybe she was checking out her next potential dance partner. Before he could respond to her question, she said, “I insist we dance…
Dr. Grant
.”

Trevor immediately stepped back. “How do you know my name?” He was on guard, but not alarmed as he repeated his question.

“Listen, Dr. Grant, we need to get out of here now.” Urgency raised her voice as she continued to look behind him and when she reached for his arm, he pulled back from her grasp.

“No, you listen. I don’t know who you are or how you know my name, miss, but I’m not going anywhere with you. Now, if you don’t mind.” Trevor stepped around her just as the band started a lively upbeat selection that sent a rush of people to the dance floor.

Trevor had been trying to get around the woman, who kept blocking him and forcing him back to the dance floor, now filled with moving bodies. “Sweetheart, come on now,” he chuckled. “As much as I’d like to, I really can’t dance with you and truthfully, I’m getting a little scared of you,” he teased, then glanced at her profile.

She wasn’t smiling. Her eyes seemed transfixed as she stared straight ahead, and still she inched him farther back onto the dance floor. He could feel the heat and tension coming off her body.

Following the direction of her unflinching gaze, Trevor looked up and froze. He spotted a man with a blank expression and his arm going into his jacket. “Oh, shit,” he whispered.

The woman turned and pulled him through the throng of dancers, but when he pulled back again she turned to him. “I’m your contact, JR, now haul ass,” she shouted above the music then all but shoved him across the dance floor, heading to the terrace exit.

Shocked at what she’d said, but letting her pull him along, Trevor replayed her words. “What? Wait, you’re—” He didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence before what sounded like a firecracker suddenly went off behind him.

Over the music, the sound didn’t immediately register until a woman at the bar screamed, “Gun!”

Trevor barely maintained his balance as everyone in the lounge started to panic. When he reached for her arm, the woman who’d identified herself as JR pulled a deadly-looking handgun from her black sequined purse. In the rising noise, he heard her order him to stay behind her. She protectively backed him away from the man with the gun. He noticed the man’s expression wasn’t blank. It was psychotic. He recognized the look.

Suddenly, JR took aim and fired a single shot. She hit the man squarely in the right shoulder. As the bullet tore into the man’s arm, he howled and spun around, dropping the gun. His look of total surprise and confusion went by the crowd because when her shot rang out, pandemonium erupted.

The crowd was shoving and pushing between JR and the shooter, forcing her farther back to the patio and toward the exit. Straining to look over the heads of the moving mass, Trevor lost sight of the shooter through the swarm of bodies and guessed that if he couldn’t see the man, maybe the man couldn’t see her either. JR’s gun was still at the ready.

Trevor couldn’t believe what was happening. One minute he was enjoying the music and holding a beautiful woman’s hand and the next minute he was in the middle of a stampede with gunfire and people screaming and running. In all of the confusion, Trevor became trapped in the mix of pushing, shoving bodies, all heading to the exit door. Turning, he frantically searched the crowd until JR gaze locked with his. He managed to find an open space, letting the crowd sweep past him. She finally caught up to him. When she was close enough, he grabbed her arm, pulling her into the space with him. When she acted defensively and whacked his forearm with a backhanded chop of her small right hand, Trevor was taken aback by the pain.

Around them the noise was deafening. The space was filled with sounds of furniture and glassware being trampled, and above all of that was the wailing of approaching police sirens.

When Trevor released her arm, JR grabbed his sleeve; her head moving left and right, apparently looking for another way out.

This time Trevor pulled away from her, forcing her to stop and look up at him. “I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me what the hell is going on!” he shouted over the din.

“Listen, Dr. Grant, my name is JR and I’m a special agent with the FBI. I was sent here to get you to safety. That man was trying to kill you and I don’t know if there are others here waiting their turn to shoot at you, so we can’t stay here, got it?”

Trevor glanced around the still dimly lit room but all he could see were people trying to get out. Nobody seemed to be taking any notice of them. Remembering that Myers and Jones had also claimed to be FBI agents, Trevor shook his head, refusing to move.

Throwing up her hands in exasperation, JR snatched the front of his polo shirt in her fist and pulled him down from his six feet so that they were eye level. “Dr. Grant, I promise I will answer all of your questions, but not here and not now! You can trust me. I’m here to protect you. That man was willing to shoot you inside of a crowded lounge. We need to go right now!”

Still not entirely convinced, Trevor decided at least for now he would go along and give her the benefit of the doubt. After all, she’d put herself between him and the shooter. “Okay, but let me grab my backpack. The bartender is holding it behind the bar for me.”

Seconds later, JR slipped inside the “Staff Only” door with Trevor close behind her.

Keeping a watchful eye to make sure they weren’t followed, they found themselves in a storage room that led to a loading dock. JR started in that direction then suddenly winced and doubled over. Pressing her hand to her side then pulling it back, she stared blankly at her hand that was now covered in blood. “The shooter missed you, Dr. Grant, but he didn’t miss me,” she said angrily through gritted teeth.

Trevor pulled her hand away so he could see the wound and then immediately looked around the room to see what he could use to stanch the blood. He spied packets of cloth dinner napkins wrapped in plastic on a shelf. He grabbed one of the packets, ripped it open, and pulled out a handful of the napkins. He pressed them against the wound. He applied as much pressure as he could without hurting her even more.

It didn’t help that the woman removed her weapon and rested her right forearm over his shoulder, aiming at the door should the gunman come after them. It also didn’t help when she sucked in her breath as he had to press hard on the makeshift bandage.

Glancing into her eyes, he saw that she was frightened, but still in control. “It’s not fatal, but it’s not a nick, either. The bullet went right through; some muscle damage but nothing permanent.” When she dropped her arm and started walking to the back door, he told her she needed get off her feet or she was going to bleed to death.

“No, we have to keep moving.” JR held the makeshift bandage in place with one hand and pushed open the door. “My car is this way. We need to leave before the cops arrive and follow the blood trail.” To emphasize her point, JR pointed to the puddle of blood on the floor.

Shouts and squealing tires could be heard from the other side of the door leading to the platform. But they still had to worry about the possibility of someone coming into that room from inside the lounge, where they could still hear screaming and running.

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