Jae's Assignment (6 page)

Dropping his head against the back of the chair, Randy thought about Myers. Had the man not second-guessed him, he would still be alive. Additionally, Randy’s slow negative head shake reflected his frame of mind because he never planned on Myers being in the winner’s circle with him; not by a long shot. To him, Myers was just an aging thug with an ugly face who couldn’t cut it at acting.

But this would all be over soon. Randy took his demotion, stripping of his agent duties, and drop in salary with a grain of salt. It paled in comparison to his elation when he’d intercepted a call the dispatch operator received. She’d been trying unsuccessfully to transfer a call to Luke Grainger’s private voicemail. The call had come from a researcher at the Kincaid Institute claiming to have received email messages from someone in trouble. Ever observant, Randy Cross watched as Luke Grainger became unglued, something the usually composed man rarely did.

It was something Randy just couldn’t ignore and he hacked into Luke Grainger’s voicemail. When he recalled Jae Randall’s undercover stint at the Kincaid Institute, he went digging for more information and soon, Randy found himself listening to voice recordings of Jae’s follow-up reports. At that time he didn’t know the scope of her assignment. He didn’t know who this Dr. Grant at the Kincaid Institute was. But Randy went digging and he left no stone unturned, no document unread and he soon found out that Dr. Grant was actually Dr. Adian Cole. Randy’s world brightened from that point on.

Just then, Randy’s gleeful reflections came to a screeching halt when his wife Dana walked into his home office asking if there had been any discussion about the investigation as she timidly approached his desk.

“No, but don’t worry about it,” he said, watching her get that anxious look that he detested. “We’ll be fine, Dana. I honestly don’t mind a desk job for now and, who knows, I might get called into a meeting tomorrow and find out the investigation is over,” he said, cringing when she started whining about their dwindling finances and growing mountain of bills again. He immediately tuned out her babbling.

He’d previously told her the FBI had assigned him to a desk position while they investigated a shooting he’d been involved with, which was true. He’d also told her it was routine and that he couldn’t discuss it. Actually, Randy had failed a psychiatric assessment following a bank shooting. Ballistics confirmed that bullets from his service weapon had not only wounded a hostage but had also killed the two bank robbers. Wounding the hostage had been a mistake—killing the bank robbers hadn’t been.

Randy didn’t believe he’d done anything wrong.

But when his superior Luke Grainger called him a screwed up whack job and added that he was a colossal failure in front of the unit, Randy went off on the man. He’d subsequently charged Randy with insubordination. Randy had been relieved of his duties and weapon and demoted down to desk duty pending a full investigation. Randy didn’t care about the investigation as long as the bank robbers’ deaths were not investigated. So far, no one suspected that he was in any way connected to them besides killing them, and he was going to make sure it stayed that way.

If there were no questions about them, he was still in the driver’s seat.

Randy knew the two young men had been given Dr. Cole aka Grant’s incomplete formula. Initially, it empowered them to believe they could rob a bank. Unfortunately, there was a hitch due to the incorrect specifications of medication or hypnosis. The young men became increasingly aggressive, unpredictable, uncontrollable, and extremely dangerous.

Randy was afraid that someone would recognize their behavior as much more erratic than desperate dope addicts. There was also the possibility they might go through withdrawal and confess to having been drugged and hypnotized if captured. Randy believed more than likely most would think they were on PCP or some other hallucinogenic drug but he couldn’t take any chances. As the two young men fled out into the alley behind the bank, they weren’t alone. They had a hostage: a bank teller who was being pulled along with them. Randy called out to them, telling them to stop before he drew his weapon. At first they seemed relieved when they saw him. But when Randy repeated his command their expressions were confused and they started toward him. That’s when Randy drew his weapon as he shouted at their bewildered faces to let the woman go and drop the bag. Randy didn’t give them a chance to react.

He’d fired two rapid shots, hitting both men and killing them, however, one shot also grazed the hostage’s shoulder. Grainger gave direct radio orders for Randy to hold his fire, but Randy had pulled his radio earphone from his ear and later claimed he hadn’t heard the command. He also claimed his immediate concern was for the frightened and then injured bank teller.

He couldn’t let his colleagues discover that the would-be robbers were running toward him because he was, in fact, their getaway driver and mastermind behind the failed heist. So, he accepted the reaming out by his boss, the demotion, and anything else they threw at him. Soon, none of it would matter anyway.

His wife tentatively asked what he wanted for dinner; Randy had forgotten she was there. He simply waved her off dismissively then watched her leave as quietly and as dejectedly as she’d come in.

Finally, his patience was going to pay off, he thought. The day he had been waiting for, praying for, and planning for had paid off. It happened the day he’d learned Grainger had planned to send in an extraction team to get Dr. Grant out of the Kincaid Institute. But Randy had a better idea. He’d skillfully manipulated the digital recordings of Grainger’s voice, thus assuring that when Jae Randall had gotten the call of the assignment to escort the good doctor to the safe house, she would have believed it had been Grainger. Little did she know that Grainger had been kidnapped and sedated. It was such a brilliant plan. He snickered.

Randy’s thoughts turned to Jae. He was counting on her to handle this by the book and follow the instructions given to her by who she believed was Luke Grainger. Randy expected her to do it without question because that was her style.

“Yes, Jae dear, you’ll follow your training by the book, a book that I practically wrote and perfected.” And he had.

Randy chuckled to himself mirthlessly.

Chapter Five

In a rush to get back to Richmond, Jae didn’t have a problem driving at high speeds, only she wasn’t the one driving.

Much to her chagrin, Grant insisted on driving again.

The only detour occurred when she’d asked him to pull into the parking lot of a clothing store situated in a strip mall. When he’d cut the engine and adjusted the seat intending to get some shuteye while she shopped for a dress, Jae laughed telling him that she wasn’t that kind of shopper and admitted that she actually hated shopping for clothes. Getting out of the car she’d confidently told him to keep the engine running.

Returning to the car ten minutes later, she shot him a smug grin when he checked his watch.

Glancing across to the driver’s seat, Jae didn’t miss Dr. Grant’s worried profile. Thinking about his situation caused worry lines to creep into his otherwise smooth face. With a target on his back he wasn’t safe anywhere, not even the two-star motel she was about to drop him off at outside of Richmond. Once inside, she did a quick sweep of the room, then took a shower and changed into the dress she’d purchased on the way.

She’d constantly kept a watchful eye for anything and everything that appeared even remotely out of place. While alone in the bathroom she mulled over what had happened since she’d left her parents’ house to meet him.

In her mind things were manageable until the gunman showed up in the lounge and started closing in and then shooting. Her getting shot was an occupational hazard and she was thankful Grant knew how to fix her up.

Leaving Grant at the motel, Jae headed back to her parent’s house. On the way, she’d pulled over to use a pay phone to call the Bureau. The unit secretary, Jeanie Walker, couldn’t divulge any contact information on the other classified assignments of the field agents; only Luke Grainger could do that. But Jae already knew this and since she and Jeanie were good friends, she knew if something were going on, Jeanie would have told her. Frustrated, Jae still stressed that it was urgent she get in touch with Grainger, to which Jeanie promised to relay the message as soon as he checked in.

To make sure her cell phones were operating she’d sent Jeanie a text and email. Within seconds, Jeanie replied by sending Jae a picture of her new shoes.

So what now?
She couldn’t keep Grant in a motel and the so-called “safe house” was out of the question. She shuddered to think of what would have happened if they had blindly entered the house assuming it was safe. Sure, she would have checked it out, but the second they entered the bathroom, kitchen, or basement where the trigger switches had been planted, they would have been as dead as Myers.

Outside of her own team who could she trust? The sad reality was no one.

Jae again replayed the scene in the hotel lounge to see exactly where she’d screwed up on the assignment. “But I didn’t screw it up. If I hadn’t gotten Grant out of there, he would have been shot and if we’d gone to the safe house…”

Jae knew she would have followed standard operating procedures by turning Grant over to the next agent. That was another thing that was cause for concern. Grainger hadn’t given her the name or physical description of the secondary agent whom she would turn Grant over to.

“Grainger wouldn’t have let me walk into that house without giving me the agent’s name or did he give it to me and I somehow missed it? But how could I miss such vital information?” she murmured.

Pulling up to the curb outside her parents’ house, Jae geared up for the backlash she was bound to get. She glanced up in the rearview mirror and plastered a smile on her face and suddenly an image of Dr. Grant’s smile in that nightclub filled her mind. He’d touched her hand and declined her offer to dance. It was a tender touch that made her wish things were different between them. For the first time in forever she’d found someone she actually wanted to date.

It was just her luck that he was off-limits.

* * * * *

The bachelorette party for Jae’s sister Rhonda Randall was just thirty minutes from starting. The invitations had been sent and everyone was excited about the night’s entertainment, full buffet, and open bar. The nightclub had been decorated in Ronnie’s bridal colors: peach and vanilla. Jae was the only thing missing.

“I am here,” Jae called out, breezing into Ronnie’s bedroom where everyone was gathered. She’d left Grant at the motel, while she attended to her family. When Ronnie ran across the room and squeezed her tightly, Jae bit back a painful cry as she took in the annoyed faces of her mother, sister Nina, and cousins behind Ronnie’s back. Easing out of Ronnie’s strong hug, Jae held her at arm’s length, admiring the peach-colored dress they’d purchased for the bridal shower.

Jae presented Ronnie with a set of peach pearls and matching earrings. All the while, she could feel the curious eyes of Nina, her mother, and her cousins as they looked on wordlessly. “Perfect,” she said after snapping the clasp of the pearls closed. Jae admired the jewelry that appeared to glow against her sister’s skin.

Elaine Randall walked over and kissed Jae’s flushed cheek. “The pearls are lovely, Jae. Honey, we’ve been worried sick about you. What happened?” she asked, sending the snickering cousins and bride-to-be a warning look.

“I…um, well, I had a little car accident and had to get a rental, which was hard to do without my credit cards. So, um, a friend gave me a loaner. I’m sorry I caused you all to worry about me, but I did call Ronnie.” Jae patted her mother’s hand. “And I’m fine.”

Nina flicked the cap sleeve of Jae’s black dress and made negative comments about it, Jae had to explain why she wasn’t wearing the floral dress she’d purchased. “Look, Nina, I know I suggested we all wear floral dresses, but I’ve been bloated all day and this dress gives some camouflage,” she fibbed, adjusting the tiered material at the waist of the dress, which hid the lump from her thick bandage perfectly.

While Nina continued to complain, Jae’s mother gently caressed her cheeks, wanting to know if she was truly all right. “Yes, I’m fine, really. It was a fender bender. Stupid squirrel.” Jae grinned, grasping her mother’s hands. “Don’t worry, Mama, the squirrel is still alive.” She smiled along with her tiny lie.
Same as Dr. Grant had done
, she thought. When Ronnie told everyone that she liked the black dress, she looped her arm through Jae’s and together they walked out of the room.

* * * * *

By ten o’clock that evening, the bachelorette party was in full swing with two hours to go. But the constant pounding in Jae’s head showed no signs of letting up.

Standing at the bar, staring into her glass of ginger ale, she checked her watch. It was time to take another one of Dr. Grant’s little white pills. Following his instruction to cut them in half to lessen the drowsiness, only barely lessened the terrible pain she was experiencing. She needed the whole thing because her entire body was throbbing. Adding to her discomfort was anger and worry, both of which she kept just below the surface.

When her eyes landed on the table to her right, Jae’s mouth watered. A large punch bowl of her father’s berry wine with orange, lemon, and lime slices floating on the top caused her mouth to water even more. The homemade blend could put any commercial sangria to shame. It was that good.

But she couldn’t have any. The doctor had given explicit directions not to drink alcohol, so she’d been sipping on ginger ale all night.

Jae wished she could close her eyes and go to sleep, but one quick look back into the club at the gyrating male dancers and a room full of giggling, screeching women holding up dollar bills, and Jae knew the night was far from over.

Pressing the wad of peppermint gum she’d been chewing onto the back of her hand, Jae took the pill with a sip of the soda. No sooner had she swallowed than Nina’s irritated voice filled her head.

“Ronnie was beside herself earlier, Jae. She was wondering if you would get here in time. I can’t believe you would once again put your own non-important issues over your sister’s special day, a day that
you
planned.”

Preparing to respond to Nina’s biting words, Jae sat her glass down, plucked the gum from her hand and put it back into her mouth. “Nina, I’m here now, and if you don’t get off my back and let the issue die down, I swear I’m going to shoot you,” she snarled.

Nina found that so hilarious she clapped her hands together while managing to say, “Oh, now that’s funny. What’re you going to shoot me with, that disgusting wad of already-chewed gum?”

It didn’t help Jae’s disposition that Nina pointed out the old bad habit she had of sticking her chewing gum to the back of her hand. “No, I was thinking about using the gun in my purse,” Jae retorted, annoyed that Nina was making fun of her. As if the thought of her being able to shoot anything was an outlandish possibility. She’d mentally boasted that she’d scored 98% on her last mandatory training at the firing range. It would have been 100% if the night vision goggles hadn’t kept slipping down her sweat-drenched nose and cheeks.

So, there it was again.

One of those moments when Jae wanted to blurt out what she really did for a living. She knew it would be a shock to everyone to know just how smart and proficient she was at so many things.
That would shut Nina’s big mouth up
, she thought. Instead, she said, “Nina, one of these days, I’m going to show you the real me and you’d better watch out.”

“Girl, you’ve had way too much of Daddy’s wine,” Nina cackled as she walked away.

Squelching the desire to throw her glass of ginger ale at Nina’s back, Jae marched over to the punch bowl, picked up the ladle and scooped out an orange slice.
This will have to do
, she thought.

* * * * *

Several hours later, Jae was sitting in her old bedroom at her parents’ house, munching on crackers. Although exhausted and still in pain, she was relieved that the bachelorette party was behind her.

It was one thirty in the morning when Jae crept from her old bedroom so as not to awaken anyone. Stopping at Ronnie’s room, Jae thought of all the times she and Ronnie played with their Barbie dolls at that hour, even on school nights.

Passing by the two guest rooms, Jae peeked in. The linens and curtains had been changed. The rooms had been spruced up for out-of-town guests arriving for the wedding—mainly aunts, uncles, and more cousins.

She was glad Nina had gone home to her husband, as did Kim and Tarsha. They would be returning in the morning for breakfast before everyone headed to church. She wanted to spend some time alone with Ronnie and didn’t want her opinionated cousins or sister chiming in.

Making her way downstairs, Jae headed for the kitchen. She stopped in the dining room and glanced at the packed dining room table. Her mother had set out the good china and silverware, all in preparation of the guests and family arriving for Ronnie’s wedding that coming Saturday.

Running a hand over a serving platter, Jae could remember all the holidays she’d spent polishing it. Glancing down at her fingernails, neatly trimmed and free of nail polish, she frowned.

Jae had never been one to pamper herself or worry over things like manicures. With job assignments that took her all over the country or required her to crawl around some fleabag location, looking for forensics, or stand in the middle of a bloody crime scene, well, stressing about her fingernails was the least of her problems.

Her thoughts suddenly shifted back to Grant, who was safely tucked away. She just hoped he stayed that way until tomorrow. She was concerned that he might take off, or worse, that the people after him would find him. Visualizing his face when he was changing her bandages, she again noticed how handsome a man he was. He was strong and had a disarming smile; that is, when he smiled. She wanted to check on him after the bridal shower, but wouldn’t have been able to explain another extended absence. Still, she wanted to see him.

Jae unconvincingly reminded herself that he was her responsibility for the time being, and nothing more.

Continuing on her way to the kitchen, she watched her father lifting a large pot from the stove. “Why am I not surprised to find you down here, Dad?”

Drew Randall slowly poured his brew into large mason jars. He smiled when Jae rushed over to hold the funnels in place.

“Dad, how much of this stuff do you plan on making?” Jae asked, glancing around the kitchen at all the filled mason jars lined up on the counters. He simply smiled, dropped a kiss to her cheek, then announced it was all done.

“Why are you still up, Jae?”

Jae twisted on the tops and after scooping up the jars helped him put them in cardboard boxes on the table. It was a ritual she’d helped with many times. “I couldn’t sleep. I’m not used to partying with a bunch of giggling women and oily guys. Such a turn-off,” she said, turning up her nose. Her father didn’t comment until they’d boxed up all of the jars and carried them into the pantry. Returning to the kitchen, he encouraged her to join him then went to the refrigerator.

Jae smiled to see him taking out a jug of milk and she knew he was going to make hot cocoa. “Dad, you do know that it’s about eighty degrees in this kitchen.” When he simply nodded and went about making the cocoa Jae mumbled, “Hot cocoa it is then.”

Minutes later, as they sat at the large kitchen table, her father pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Out with it. Bring me up to speed on that fellow you were love-struck over a while back.”

Jae’s mouth twisted as if she’d eaten something distasteful. “It wasn’t even that, Dad.”

“Then what would you call it?”

“I would call it a flight that never got off the ground. I wasn’t what Byron wanted.” At her father’s raised eyebrows above his cup of hot cocoa, Jae continued. “He wanted something I’m not. He wanted a glam gal, some pouty, fake woman who wouldn’t even think about playing Frisbee like we did the other day. He wanted someone like Nina and Ronnie and Kim and Tarsha.” Jae met her father’s eyes. “Pretty girls, Dad,” she said.

“You’re a pretty girl, Jae, and you’re smart with a great sense of humor. You get that from me.” He smiled, patting her hand. “Don’t sell yourself short because that Byron was too stupid to see he already had an amazing, beautiful girl. It’s his loss.”