Seven Days to Forever (21 page)

“It’s bright, even through the city haze.”

“It’s a binary. The smaller star eclipses the larger one every three days so the brightness varies. It’s…” He paused. “Are you getting cold? Do you want to go in?”

“No, I’m fine. Show me something else.”

He moved behind her and took her shoulders in his hands to reposition her. She closed her eyes, drinking in the brief contact and the sensation of his body behind hers.

“Andromeda is the double line of stars north of Perseus.”

She blinked and looked up. “You surprise me, Flynn. I wouldn’t have guessed that you’d be an amateur astronomer.”

“Why not?”

“It seems a bit…tame for your taste.”

“It’s something I picked up when I was a kid. Comes in useful when I don’t have a compass.”

“Matteo wants to be an astronaut.”

“Yeah. I remember.”

“Why did you decide to join the Army?”

“Because I get seasick and so I couldn’t join the Navy.”

She turned to face him. “No flip answers anymore, okay, Flynn? You said you’d tell me the truth.”

There was a pause. “All right, Abbie. You don’t deserve less. The truth is except for the sports teams, I never liked school much. I went to college on a basketball scholarship, but being stuck in a classroom put me to sleep. The morning of my graduation I saw an army recruiting video at a mall and decided that was a challenge I’d enjoy, so I packed my bag and didn’t look back.”

“Just like that? So fast?”

“What’s the use of waiting around once you’ve made your choice?”

Of course. That’s the way Flynn was. Straight-ahead, decisive and to the point. “Weren’t your parents concerned about the risks you’d face in the military?”

“My father didn’t know I had enlisted until I was halfway through my first tour. He was in the Philippines on some drilling project when my letter caught up to him. He’s an exploration geologist so he’s never in one place for long.”

“What about your mother? Wasn’t she at your graduation?”

“I was six the last time I saw her.” He kept his gaze on the stars and continued to speak with no trace of self-pity in his voice. “There were a couple of stepmothers with kids of their own over the years, but my father was between wives at the time I signed up.”

Oh, how she wanted to hold him. She looked at the tall, proud soldier he’d become and saw the vulnerable child with no roots and no family. She felt her perspective shift. He’d had a father who traveled, a mother who’d left him and a succession of broken homes. It fit. This was why he avoided commitment. This was why he’d once said Eagle Squadron was his family. This was probably why the sight of the Vilyas family’s love for each other had hit him so hard.

There’s a big difference between what we want and what we can have.
That’s what he’d told her. He’d said he’d learned that lesson a long time ago.

Would she wish for real love and a family of her own if she hadn’t grown up surrounded by examples of it? How different would her dreams have been if she’d had a childhood like Flynn’s? She might have armored herself with wit, the way he did. She might have buried her idealism and vowed to seize the pleasure of the moment.

Abbie realized Flynn’s interest in astronomy wasn’t so surprising after all. She lifted her hand to his cheek. “You like the stars because they don’t change,” she said. “Your father kept leaving, you had different mothers, but you could count on the stars.”

He nodded and brushed his mouth over her palm. “Yeah. Stars don’t leave. They’re always right where you left them.”

Her pulse thudded at his caress. She rubbed her thumb over his lower lip. “Show me more, Flynn.”

He nipped the tip of her thumb lightly with his teeth. His eyes gleamed as he moved his gaze from the stars to her face. “Do you see the pentagon shape over my shoulder?”

She glanced past him, trying to spot the pattern in the points of light. “Yes. I think so.”

“That’s Auriga, The Charioteer.” He grasped her hips and eased her against him. His words became a whisper, blending with the breeze on her cheek. “The bright star at the bottom corner is Capella. I could see that from inside the warehouse the night I stood watch while you showered.”

The breadth of his shoulders blocked her view of the constellation. She gave up the pretense of looking and put her hands on his arms. “You didn’t have to stand watch. Sarah had a sign for the door.”

“I know. I wanted to be sure no one else got to see your nipples.”

Her fingers tightened over his biceps.

“Your blouse was wet when you first let me into your apartment,” he murmured. “It must have been the cold that was making your nipples pucker that way, but I couldn’t forget. I still can’t forget.”

“Flynn…”

“I concentrated on identifying stars while I listened to you shower so I wouldn’t keep picturing you naked. It didn’t work then. It’s not working now.” He moved his hands to her waist and lifted her off her feet so that her face was level with his. He held her there for a long, trembling minute. “Maybe you should talk to Redinger after all. Ask him to assign someone else to you, Abbie.”

“Why, Flynn?”

“Because every time I see you, every time I hear the caring in your voice, I want you more. But you’ve told me what you want, Abbie, and I can’t give it to you.”

She parted her lips. She wasn’t sure how to reply.

Before she could make a sound, the warehouse door opened. Esposito’s bald head gleamed in the starlight as he strode across the pavement toward them.

Flynn set Abbie down and angled his body in front of hers. “What is it, Chief?”

“We need Miss Locke inside, O’Toole. We’ve got trouble.”

Chapter 12

“A
bbie, if you’re there, please pick up.”

Abbie gripped the edge of the table where Esposito monitored the communication equipment and listened as her mother’s voice came over the speaker. The team had been checking the messages on her answering machine regularly in case the LLA decided to contact her directly. This message had been left less than ten minutes ago.

“I’m sorry to be such a worrywart, dear. You’re probably safely tucked in bed sound asleep, but I heard you weren’t at work today. I’m going to pop over there and bring you some soup, okay? I’ll let myself in so you don’t have to get up. Bye.”

The message ended. Abbie felt her stomach drop. She looked around.

“Your mother can’t let herself in,” Flynn said. “I changed your lock. Unless you gave her a spare key on Friday?”

“No. I never thought of it.” Abbie chewed her lip. “When she finds out her key doesn’t work, she’ll bang on the door. If I don’t answer, she’ll get worried. She might get the building superintendent to break the lock.”

Chief Esposito scowled and muttered something about Murphy’s Law. “What will she do if she gets into your apartment and sees you’re not there?” he asked.

“She’d be even more concerned,” Abbie replied. “She believes I’m sick. If I’m not there, she might think I went to a doctor or a hospital.”

“And then?”

“She’d call the rest of the family. They’d go into full panic mode. If they don’t hear from me they’ll probably call the police.”

“This has to be contained now or the security of the mission will be compromised.” Flynn handed her his phone. “Does your mother have a phone in her car?”

“My dad gave her a cell phone last Mother’s Day for emergencies. She keeps it in the glove compartment but I don’t know the number by heart. I’ve never used it. I’ve got it in my address book, but that’s at my apartment.”

“Is it registered under her name or your father’s?” Esposito asked, swiveling toward his computer.

“Uh, my father’s.”

“Okay. No problem. The captain showed me this trick a few weeks ago.” He hit a sequence of keys. Seconds later the screen filled with lines of names, addresses and phone numbers. “Here it is.”

Abbie dialed the number Esposito read to her and put the phone to her ear. It rang eight times. “She’s not answering,” Abbie said. “Maybe she hasn’t left yet.”

“If she’s anything like you, she would be on her way,” Flynn said. “Better try again.”

Abbie dialed the number and let it ring twelve times. On the thirteenth ring, the phone was picked up. As soon as she heard her mother’s voice, she exhaled in relief. “Mom, I’m glad I caught you. I got your message and—”

“Abbie? Are you all right?”

“I’m…I’ve felt better.”

“Hang on, I’ve got to pull over.” There was a pause. “There. I can’t stand those people who talk on cell phones while they’re driving. Now, what is it that couldn’t wait until I got there?”

“Mom, I hate to have you come all this way for nothing. It’s really sweet of you to offer to bring me soup, but—”

“Abigail, how sick are you?”

“It’s just the flu.”

“You haven’t been answering your phone.”

“I turned off the ringer so I could rest.”

“You don’t sound like yourself. Your voice is shaking. Is someone there with you? I can hear noises.”

She glanced around the crowded tent. “Must be a bad connection. And I’ve got the television on.”

“You said you were resting.”

She rubbed her forehead with her free hand. “Yes. Mom, I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I was about to go to bed and I’m not up to company right now.”

“Nonsense. I’m not company. I’m your mother. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

“Mom—”

“Someone’s honking at me, I have to go. See you soon.”

The connection was broken. Abbie gave the phone back to Flynn. “She’s worried about me. I couldn’t stop her.”

“We could have her intercepted,” Esposito suggested. “Call in a complaint to the D.C. police and give her licence number.”

“No,” Abbie said. “Please don’t do that. She has a perfect record.”

“Wouldn’t do any good, Chief,” Flynn said. “If Abbie’s family is worried about her, they’d just send someone else to check up on her. We can’t afford a security breach at this stage. Our only choice is to let her play out the cover she’s established.”

Esposito looked at Abbie. “How fast a driver is your mother?”

“She taught me everything I know.”

“Oh, hell,” Flynn muttered.

* * *

Abbie locked her arms around Flynn’s waist and pressed more closely to his back as the bike tore around a corner. She’d asked to go home yesterday, but she hadn’t really meant it. And she hadn’t imagined going home like this. The trip from the warehouse to her apartment building should have taken at least forty minutes. Flynn had covered it in twenty-five.

They hit the low curb at the driveway of her building and they were momentarily airborne. Abbie tightened her thighs over Flynn’s hips, her teeth clacking together hard with the impact of their landing. The tires screeched as Flynn squeezed the brakes. The back wheel swung out as the bike skidded in a ninety-degree turn and nosed into a narrow gap between two cars in the lot designated for visitors parking.

Flynn shut off the engine, kicked down the stand and jumped off the bike. “Do you see your mother’s car?”

Abbie pulled off her helmet and scanned the parked vehicles. “No, she isn’t here yet.”

“All right, let’s go.” He didn’t wait for her to swing her leg over the seat. He caught by the waist and lifted her off, vaulted over the low hedge that separated the parking lot from the sidewalk, then set her on her feet. Holding their helmets in one hand, he headed for the building’s rear door. “Do you have your keys ready?”

She jogged to keep up with him as she shoved her hand into her jacket pocket and pulled out her key ring. “Got them.”

Her apartment was exactly as she’d left it. She didn’t know why that surprised her. She had been gone less than a week. The avocado plant looked a bit droopy, and there were a few more leaves on the carpet around the fig tree, but otherwise, nothing had changed.

Yet it looked smaller. It had once seemed so cozy. Now it seemed…confined.

“We don’t have much time.” Flynn tossed their helmets into the closet beside the door. “Take off your clothes.”

“What? Flynn, we—”

“You told your mother you were getting ready for bed.” He strode straight to her bedroom and switched on the lamp. “Where’s that pink T-shirt you were wearing on Friday night?”

She followed. “Under my pillow.”

“Okay.” Flynn pulled back the pillow and tossed her the T-shirt, then rumpled the bedding so the bed would look used. “You change, I’ll disappear.”

She caught the garment and toed off her shoes. “Where?”

“Balcony. Your plants block the view of the patio door. I’ll stay out of sight in the shadows.”

She reached for the zipper on the front of her pants. “Won’t you be cold?”

His jaw tightened as he watched her movements. “No. I won’t be cold.”

Her hand stilled. Her heart pounded. It wasn’t only from the hair-raising motorcycle ride.

“Do you want some help with that zipper?”

She shook her head.

He swore and left the room.

Abbie blew out her breath and finished undressing. She had just pulled on her T-shirt when she heard the faint sound of jingling keys. She kicked her clothes out of sight under her bed, dropped her watch on the bedside table, grabbed her robe and hurried toward the front door.

Before she could reach the door, she heard the scrape of a key. There was a muffled exclamation, followed by a light knock. “Abbie?”

She glanced around. Flynn was gone. Nothing stirred except the branch of the fig tree that was closest to the balcony. She fastened the knot in the belt of her robe and unlocked the door.

Clara Locke stood on the threshold. Her silver-streaked brown hair was pulled into her usual neat bun. The blouse that showed beneath her thick gray sweater had tiny flowers like the wallpaper in her kitchen. A hint of the almond-scented hand lotion she always used floated in with the draft from the corridor, along with the aroma of chicken soup from the round plastic container she held.

She was so blessedly ordinary and familiar that Abbie wanted to cry.

Clara shifted her handbag and the plastic container to the crook of one arm and gave Abbie a lopsided hug. “I’m sorry to get you up, dear, but my key wouldn’t work.”