Killer Christmas Tips (15 page)

I glare at Jack. “Tell him, or I will.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t understand, Donna.”

“Like hell I don’t! I understand perfectly.” I turn to Ryan. “Valentina.”

Ryan’s eyes go blank. “What about her?”

“She was there, at Miles’ free sex soirée!” I practically choke on my words. “
With Jack
.”

Nothing. Not a peep from Ryan.

On a good day, his expressions are stonier than the Sphinx’s.

But this is not a good day.

It is a very, very bad day.

So yeah, you can knock me over with a feather when he says, “Yeah, okay. So what?”

I can’t believe my ears. “‘So what?’ She’s the enemy… right? Hello, am I missing something here?”

Ryan’s gaze shifts from me to Jack. I don’t know why. Jack can’t see it. He’s closed his eyes.

Ryan clears his throat. “Jack, sorry, guy. You should’ve followed my advice and told her.”

Her
. By that, I guess he means me. “What haven’t you told me, Jack?”

Slowly, Jack opens one eye, then the other. “I was supposed to tell you that Valentina is one of ours.”

“Oh.” No. 

No
.

She is 
not
 one of mine.

But now I know. She is 
his
.

I don’t want him to see me cry, so I stand up and walk over to the window.

I wish it would snow.

Fat chance. This is LA. Only if the world were to end would 
that
 happen.

But my world has just ended. Did I miss something? I look up at the clouds, to see if they’ve parted.

Finally I whisper, “Since when?”

“It happened a few months back. You remember that note she left with Trisha—”

“Ha! How could I forget it?” I’m laughing hysterically. I can’t help it. The audacity of that bitch, to come near my child…

“It was her way of putting out feelers. She offered to double up.” Jack reaches over and takes my hand in his. Is he worried I may reach for my gun?

He should be. I hate liars.

And he’s been lying to me, since then. Almost half a year!

The fool
. Doesn’t he realize I can still reach the pistol strapped to my ankle?

“Yeah, well, her ‘feelers’ have quite a sting. Does anyone here remember she tried to kill me, just last week?”

“That was a mistake on her part, Donna. The Chinese were also after the intel. She thought you were one of their assassins, and she was trying to cut them off at the pass, so we’d have a clear shot.” Jack seeks out my eyes. “That morning, if I hadn’t been lateral’ed to the missing MANPAD surveillance, I would have done it myself. I couldn’t get to her in time, to tell her to lay low. You have to believe me when I say she wasn’t expecting you to do the pick-up.”

“No, Jack, I don’t have to believe you. When it comes to Valentina, I keep catching you in lies.” I try to smile, but I’m trembling too hard. “Wow. And to think, now you’re going to be her handler! Just like old times, isn’t it?”

“Donna, I swear, it’s not what you think!”

I can’t hold the tears back anymore. “Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because… 
because we couldn’t have it getting back to Carl
.”

“How would that have happened?” Then it hits me. “Oh, I get it. You thought I wouldn’t be able to keep it from Carl.”

The way Ryan clears his throat you’d think he swallowed a frog. “Donna, it was Jack’s call to keep you in the dark, but I agreed with it. The fewer people who know the names and faces of our doubles, the better. And this is the first time Acme had one inside the Quorum. We just couldn’t risk it.”

He’s forgetting about Carl. Carl infiltrated the Quorum.

But then Carl was turned by the Quorum.

So, why does Jack find it so easy to trust Valentina?

Is it because he loves her?

Well, I don’t. I hate her guts.

She took Carl from me.

Now she wants Jack back, too.

“How do you know she’s not a triple agent?” I glare at Jack. “Why did it take you ten minutes to get to me, Jack? What were you doing with her all that time?”

“Covering your ass.” Jack’s eyes could cut steel right now. Instead, they drill through me. “Valentina cornered me for one reason. To give me the heads-up that Carl was on his way there, to exterminate Miles and take the MANPAD. Then, so that you’d complete your part of the mission, she did her bit to distract Miles’ security goons.”

Yeah, I’ll just bet she did.

“When she gave me the all-clear, I gave you the heads up, and made my way to Miles’ suite,” he continues. “Unfortunately, Carl got to you before I did.”

“Don’t you find it a little too convenient that she waited until I was stuck in Miles’ dungeon to call in the cavalry? From what you’ve told me in the past, she was very good at playing you.”

When Jack is angry, he has a tell. He releases a bullet, and someone ends up dead.

From the look on his face, maybe I should duck and cover.

But no, he reels in his anger if only to smile when he mutters, “Ha! Good at ‘playing me?’ Admit it, Donna. She’s got nothing on Carl.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Whenever Carl’s around, I always find you in an uncompromising position.” He tilts his head and smiles as if contemplating the memory of me in the cage, practically naked. “And yet, you always have an excuse as to why I may be wrong about him. Talk about delusional.”

“Okay, children, enough already!” Ryan is pacing again. “Look, maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to pair you two up. All you do is fight!”

No, that’s not all we do. Sometimes we make love, not war. 

But now that Valentina’s back, Jack and she can pick up where they left off.

Recreating their little love nest.

In that scenario, three’s definitely a crowd.

“I… I think you’re right, Ryan,” I say with a shrug. “In fact, let me make it easy on you. From now on, I’ll forego any assignments dealing with the Quorum.”

Ryan shakes his head. “That’s not necessary, Donna. You’re too valuable an asset, and right now, it’s all hands on deck.”

“If you agree with Jack that my feelings may compromise this mission, I’ll respectfully resign, sir.”

Ryan says nothing.

So much for his vote of confidence.

“I suspected as much.” I force my lips into a smile. “Jack deserves kudos for turning Valentina. Handling her is a full-time job, no doubt. Certainly more exciting than—how did you put it, when we first met, Jack? Oh yeah: ‘being stuck out in Siberbia.’ Congratulations on your promotion.”

Jack is by my side in no time flat. When he touches my arm, I jerk it away, as if his touch may scorch my skin. “Donna, you’re overreacting.”

“No, I think overreacting is what the kids are going to do when their ‘father’ walks out of their lives, yet again.” When I reach the door, I turn back around. “Do me a favor. At least wait until after New Year’s Day. That way, I can salvage their holiday. In the meantime, you can sleep in the guest room.”

It feels good to slam the door behind me.

I run to the car before I change my mind and beg him to come back.

Chapter 13

Decorating Christmas Cookies

Like snowflakes, no two Christmas cookie recipes are alike! Not only do they come in all shapes and sizes, they have the advantage of being different flavors, too!

The traditional sugar cookie is easy-peasy! Your ingredients are 1 cup butter, softened; 1 cup sugar; 2 large eggs; 2 teaspoons vanilla extract; 1 teaspoon almond extract; 3 1/4 cups all-purpose flour; 2 teaspoons baking powder; 1/2 teaspoon salt.

Preheat your oven to 350° , and line two baking sheets with parchment paper. While waiting for it to heat up, beat the butter and sugar at medium speed with an electric mixer, until fluffy. (No bat necessary.) Then beat in the eggs, vanilla and almond extract until combined (again, don’t use a bat).

In another bowl, combine flour, baking powder and salt. Gradually you’ll add this combination to your sugar mixture, and beat (without a bat) until smooth.

When complete, wrap dough in heavy-duty plastic wrap, and refrigerate for an hour.

When the hour is up, roll out dough to 1/4-inch thickness, on a lightly floured surface. Cut the dough with your sleigh bell, Santa, tree, and reindeer cookie cutters. (No knife needed). Afterward, place them two inches apart, on the prepared baking sheets. After chilling the dough for another 15 minutes, you’ll bake your cookies for ten minutes, or until edges have browned.

When they cool, be sure to remove the cookies from the pans, onto a cool counter or flat plate, then garnish ever so lightly with edible paint icing, sugar pearls, or sparkling sugar.

For that uninvited guest in your life, I’d suggest a lacing of arsenic, or a sprinkle of SUX. If he doesn’t succumb to your sweet revenge, it’s time to get out the bat!

Mary looks around the kitchen and whistles. “Wow! We’ll be having a sugar high par-
TAY
 tonight!”

You betcha.

Already I’ve baked gingerbread men. Right now, my little assistant, Trisha, is going wild with the cookie cutter, rolling out balls of chilled dough on a marble cutting board, then stamping out Santas, stars, snowmen, bells, and Christmas trees. As soon as her sugar cookies have baked and cooled, she’ll squirt squiggly designs onto them from the half dozen pastry sleeves I’ve filled with colored icing.

My own special project is already in one of my triple ovens, but I still have to clean up the clutter on top of the kitchen island, which is crowded with bags of flour and sugar cinnamon sticks, nutmeg, cloves, allspice, vanilla and almond extracts, a mound of butter, sliced almonds, as well as dates, currants, nuts, candied cherries, and a bowl filled with a dozen egg whites.

Oh, and a snifter of brandy.

My recipe called for lots and lots of brandy.

I’ve made a fruitcake.

And yes, I sampled the batter.

A lot.

I’m a bit tipsy. Big deal. Fruitcake makes a great snack for a pity party.

For the past two nights, Jack has disappeared in the middle of the night, for hours on end. He leaves after the children go to bed, and doesn’t return until dawn. He comes down for breakfast with the children, and in front of them, we are polite but distant. Still, he leaves the house to drop them at school, but doesn’t return afterward. On a few afternoons in the past week, he’s made it home in order to help them with their homework or to go to their basketball games. Otherwise, we are like ghosts who haunt the same space, but exist in different dimensions.

“Mom! 
MOM!
” Jeff yells at the top of his lungs, over the Mariah Carey Christmas tunes blasting through our home speaker system. “The carolers are here! Should we turn off the lights and pretend we’re not home?”

“Nah. It’s okay. Go ahead and open the door.”

Because he can’t believe his ears, he runs into the kitchen. “You’re kidding, right? But hiding from them has always been one of our Christmas traditions!”

And for good reason. The Hilldale Holiday Hummers are loud, and more often than not, off-key.

Tonight, though, I’m trying to drown out any thoughts of Jack. A few badly rendered Christmas ditties should do the trick nicely.

If they don’t, maybe another glass of brandy will kill the memory cells of where he still resides in my brain. I pour one as I head to the front door.

The Hummers’ rendition of “Deck the Halls” is passable, whereas their version of “Oh Come All ye Faithful” has both Lassie and Rin Tin Tin howling along with a few of their own unreachable high notes. And frankly, if I were them I’d drop “The Twelve Days of Christmas” from the repertoire altogether. It’s just abominable.

But certainly not as audacious as Valentina, who has the gall to stand in front of my house, smiling and listening, along with the most tone deaf of our neighbors.

If she’s still standing there by the time the Hummers finish the last stanza of “Good King Wenceslas,” that classic won’t be the only thing butchered tonight in Hilldale.

When, finally, the Hummers wrap it up and the crowd drifts off in search of more holiday cheer, I nonchalantly give my children permission to dig into the cookie-palooza awaiting them in the kitchen.