Out of the Dark (12 page)

“Mac?” Frank said. “Where are you?”

“We’re still at the motel, but I can...”

Frank let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”

“Really? Why?

“I’m glad Emily was able to get some extra shut-eye. She looked pretty roughed up yesterday.”

“Ah, yeah, but...”

“Are you heading to the inventor’s place?”

Mac cleared his throat. “Frank I’ve been thinking.” Rubbing the back of his neck, Mac fought for the right words. “Maybe you should send another agent to take care of Em. This way I can be out there looking for...”

“For what Mac? We don’t even know what the hell we’re up against. Besides, Emily trusts you.”

“Yeah, but it’s getting...”

“Hold on, I have another call.”

Silence.

As his eyes traced every inch of the small bathroom, Mac thought about how tough it was going to be to spend any more time with Em. He had never been in this situation. Still, he was determined to put Em in more competent hands and find out who wanted them dead.

Frank came back on the line. “Mac, you still have that lens camera, right?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Get that developed today and send me those pictures. Word’s out that Emily might have managed to capture some serious
Intel. Tony found out someone followed her into the hotel in Moscow looking for information.”

“Information about Em?”

“Yeah. Like who she worked for, why was she there. Stuff like that.”

“Okay...but.”

“Get on it, Mac. We don’t have a lot of time.”

Well, that hadn’t gone the way he’d hoped. Sticking the phone in his pocket, he stepped into the dressing area and expected to see Em’s reflection in the mirror.

Instead, the room was empty.

“Em,” he called knowing she wasn’t hiding under the bed. “Em?”

By instinct, Mac ran to the door and found the chain latch undone. He smacked the frame. Damn, where was she? Where could she go?

Disregar
ding everything, Mac yanked the door open and stepped out into the morning air. The black SUV sat parked where he’d left it. 

Food
! 

Wasting no time, Mac ran down the walkway toward the vending machines. As he turned the corner he plowed into the young cowboy from the night before. Surprised, the boy stopped and looked at Mac like his head was missing.

Mac grabbed the young boy by the shirt and pulled him close. “Where is she?”

The guy tried to draw back, but Mac held him too tight. “Who, man?”

“My wife?”

The redneck thumbed over his shoulder. “She’s in there.”

Shoving the boy aside, Mac darted into the small square room that held the ice machine, soda, and candy vending machines.

Mac rubbed his eyes and exhaled slowly
. Emily Richards was the only woman who had the remarkable ability to scare the Holy shit out of him.

Huffing hard, Mac saw her standing with a Diet Coke and a small orange juice in one hand, her other poised above the coin slot. She turned and looked at him, her fine brows drawn together. “What are you doing out here barefooted?”

“You lose track of your wife?”

“Mind your own business.”

The boy inched backwards. “Fuck you too, mister.”

  Mac turned his attention
to Em. “What do you mean leaving the room like that?”

“Like what?” she injected in a dry tone. “Opening the door and walking out?”

“You know what I mean. I thought you’d left.”

She strolled from the vending room toward their room, him following close behind, unable to think of one word of small talk.

“Now, why would a woman leave a man as warm and cuddly as you, Mac?” Still walking, she handed the orange juice over her shoulder, and he took it. “No shirt, no shoes, no service.”

He could only mumble like an idiot.

Outside their door, she slid the card key in place, and the door swung open. The coolness of the room wrapped around his bare shoulders. Before going out, Em had obviously adjusted the thermostat. 

  “Don’t leave unless I know where you’re going. You scared the hell out of me.”

“I just went to get a drink for me and some juice for you. What’d you think? I’d stolen the car and run off.” Her face brightened and her eyes rounded. “That’s exactly what you thought wasn’t it, Super Spy.” She slammed the Coke down on the table and faced him, her hands jammed against her waist. “You need to learn something about me. I don’t run, I don’t hide, and I never walk out on anyone.”

“Fine,” he muttered. “I was just concerned, that’s all.”

“Concerned that I’d leave you stranded. Is that all you care about?”

He wanted to argue, but what could he say. She was right. He’d thought she cut out on him, and he would be
stuck here until Falcon brought another car. But what really scared him shitless was that while she was out there someone could have taken her. Maybe hurt her because she was with him.  He couldn’t live with that.

I’ve never left anyone.
It galled him that some asshole had done a number on Em. Even before hearing the whole story, Mac hated every man who’d ever hurt Em, and hoped they all suffered from chronic Erectile Dysfunction.

Was he any better?

Eyes averted, he untapped the cap on the orange juice and took a long swallow. It wasn’t as cold as he liked, but it was wet and sweet.

“You ready?” he asked.

She knocked back a sip of Coke and shrugged. “Couldn’t you get me passed on to another agent?”

His heart skipped a beat. “What?”

She nodded toward the bathroom. “The walls are thin as paper. I overheard you talking to Frank.”

The pain and sadness in her beautiful brown eyes crushed his chest like a bug beneath his heel. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. He wanted her happy and smiling. The only problem was he couldn’t be the man to make that happen. He couldn’t love her because he’d decided years ago to never go down that dark, scary ally.

“You’re safety is what’s important, Em. If anything happened to you...”

“Shut up, Mac. I’m sick of your lies and excuses. Morning after regrets setting in?”

“No.”

“Liar.” She put her hand on her hip. “Don’t worry. You’ll be free of me soon enough. I’m through playing Falcon’s game. I’m going home, and you can all go to hell.”

She wore her hair down, straight and shiny. To his surprise it was longer than he’d thought. He tried to imagine waking up next to her every day for the rest of his life, but his mind went blank as trepidation and insecurity climbed his spine.

After Em gathered her purse and laptop, Mac took her briefcase and opened the door. Assured it was safe, they left the room and walked toward the stairs.

He knew he had plenty of time to talk some sense into her head before they got to Stanley’s.

As they passed room 208 the young cowboy stepped out in front of them. “Hey, Hot Shot. Me and you got a score to settle.”

Surely this kid wasn’t serious, was he? “I’d like you to meet my big brother.” The cowboy finished by kicking the door to his room open.

A man the size of a sumo wrestler moved in front of the kid, completely blocking the door.

Ah, shit. He wasn’t kidding.

Emily dropped her purse and laptop before wedging herself between Mac and the not so Jolly-Green-Giant. She nearly gagged on the stench of marijuana, stale beer and an ashtray full of cigarette butts. “Look, this is no way to start the day,” she said, with a cheerfulness she didn’t feel. “Let’s all go along and mind our own business, okay?”

“Hell no, it ain’t okay.” The cowboy stepped from behind his protector. Face red, and eyes spitting fire, he pointed at Mac. “That son of a bitch grabbed me up by the collar. Accused me of messing with his wife.”

“You do that mister?” the giant asked, in a voice deep as a cavern.

Mac shrugged then set Emily’s briefcase on the concrete walkway. “Yeah, that’s pretty much how it went down.” With a wide stance, his balled fists hung at his side, ready for action.

“Don’t listen to my husband,” Emily interrupted quickly, waving her hands in the air. “He has Alzheimer’s and he never knows from one moment to the next what’s going on.” Emily tried to shove past the two men, and move them to the safety of the SUV. She’d have better luck walking through a brick wall.

Mac snagged her back pocket and pulled her closer to him. “This could easily be a misunderstanding, but...”

“See,” she said. “Just a misunderstanding. Let’s go.” Her feet moved, but she wasn’t covering any ground.

Desperate to get away, Emily reached back and took Mac’s hand. A grunt escaped her lips when she tried to pull him toward the stairs. He wouldn’t budge. He might as well be super glued to the ugly carpet.

“Em,” Mac said. “You go down and get in the car. I’ll be right there.” A menacing glint sparked in Mac’s blue eyes that told Emily the inevitable. “Gentlemen, my room or yours?”

Emily gritted her teeth
. Grown people didn’t act like this
. “Wait one damn minute. No one is going to fight. Do you hear?” Emily placed her palm on her heart. “I am a professional negotiator. I can talk anyone out of, or into, almost anything.”

The three men continued to stare at each other. The giant cracked his knuckles and Emily wanted to punch him herself.

“Why don’t you come in here?” The big guy waved Mac inside, and it looked as if Mac was about to comply. Eyeing the young man carefully, Mac stepped into the room. Emily moved in behind him.

After entering the room identical to theirs, Emily noticed another man sat on the bed, drinking a beer, and smoking a cigarette.

Mac moved to Emily and edged her toward the door. “You go down to the car and wait,” Mac said with a sly grin. “I won’t be long.”

“Oh no. She stays,” said the man sitting on the bed. “When we finished beating the hell out of you, we’ll take good care of your wife.”

The younger cowboy reached out to touch Emily, but before Mac could react, Emily picked up the beige cradle phone and smacked the young man in the head. When he went to his knees, Emily drew back her foot and planted it solidly in his chest and shoved. Cowboy Bob dropped like a rotted fence post.

Damn, she was getting good at this, and that scared Mac in a proud kind of way.

The other two men looked on in shock. “Now listen,” Em said, “I tried to tell you we don’t want trouble, but you wouldn’t listen.” Calmly, she reached behind them and opened the door and backed out. Mac fought back a grin. She had the material of his shirt clutched in her fist. Obviously, where she was going, she planned to take his clothes with her.

The giant’s bottom lip quivered and
Mac thought he was going to cry. Instead he lowered his head then ran toward them. Mac pushed Emily to the opposite side of the door while he stood in the middle, waiting, his feet spread.

As the man came closer, Mac stepped aside, grabbed his arm, and a belt loop on his jeans, and tossed the big guy over the
wrought iron railing.

Silently the giant sailed through the air like a missile. The loud thud of a body landing on metal made Mac cringe. Leaning over the rail, Mac saw the guy sprawled in the bed of an old pickup. They both turned in unison to face the last man.

He stood slowly then held up his hands in surrender. That business taken care of, Mac and Emily grabbed her stuff and ran down the stairs, jumped in the car, and left.

“You knocked the hell out of that cowboy.”

“Well, he shouldn’t have touched me,” Em said.

“Remind me never to piss you off.”

“Humph, I’ve been pissed at you since Moscow.”

“You never smacked me in the face with a phone.”

“Not yet.”

As he pulled onto the interstate, Em turned to him and cocked a brow. “Where are we going?”

He couldn’t help but like and admire this tough little cookie. Most women in a situation like they’d just been through would have run screaming to the car, or sat there with their eyes shut until it was all over. Not Em.

The troublesome thing about the w
hole matter was that Mac had a strange inclination that Em did what she did back there in the motel because she wanted to protect him. No woman had ever done that before. The thought sent a strange message to his heart but he wasn’t about to try and interpret.

***

Emily had her heart broken before, but for some strange and unimaginable reason Mac’s coldness this morning sent her reeling into a dark void of regret, isolation and shame.
Shame
being the most consuming.

Courageously, she’d fought her attraction to him since he showed up at her hotel room, now she had to face the fact that her heart had led her astray.
Hadn’t it always?

Wrong guy
.

W
rong time.

W
rong place.

Mac headed the list of wrongs in her life when it came to men and love. Why else would she be single and alone at her age when all she’d ever wanted was a husband and a family? It simply wasn’t meant to be. So why did she want to get married so badly? Why was having a man to love in her life so important?

Maybe because she’d never had a steady boyfriend during those awkward teenage years. While other girls were picking out prom dresses and deciding who to go to the dance with, Emily had stayed home and studied. That’s what she was good at. Besides, guys didn’t date girls with glasses, braces and twenty extra pounds.

Even after she was older, had Lasik, lost her braces, and the weight, every guy who caught her eye was a heartache waiting to happen. One right after the oth
er. In all her years she’d only had one serious relationship. And look how that had turned out. 

As uncomfortable as Emily felt at the moment, she had to get her life back into her own hands. That started now.

“What’s Stanley’s address?”

“Why?”

“That’s where we’re heading.”

“Now?
” So much for her tough strategy.

“Yes, right now. I want to see those pictures.”

“Ah, I can’t...I mean, I don’t know...Maybe.”

“Now, Em,” he growled. “I’m through messing around.”

“He lives at 4231 Heritage.”

Mac put it in the GPS. “What city?”

“Bedford.”

As Mac pulled onto 820
East, Emily made the quick phone call to Stanley then dialed her neighbor. “Hi Debbie.”

“Emily. Are you back?”

“Almost, did you pick Hershey up for me?”

“Yes, and he was ready to be busted out of the dog
gie hotel.”

“Good, I’ll be home shortly and pick him up.”

“Okay, but don’t hurry, the kids have enjoyed him.”

“Thanks so much, Debbie.”

She finished the call and placed her phone in the console of the vehicle.

“Who’s Hershey?”

“My dog.”

“That’s a candy bar or a frickin’ cake.”

“I like chocolate.”

“Yeah, but you don’t label your dog with a handle like that. It’s a male dog too, isn’t it?”

Refusing to be drawn into an argument, she nodded. She now realized that’s what Mac hid behind. Words, anger, insults. Anything to stay away from the real issues in his life.

“He must be a real terror. What is he, some little miniature thing you stuff in your purse?”

“Hershey is a very brave dog and I love him.”

“What’s wrong with Butch, or Killer or Rover?” Caustic words rolled off his tongue, taunting her for a comeback, because he could handle an argument. But being ignored or attacked by a hysterical woman, like she’d been yesterday, threw him off his game. Today she was a different woman.

A scorned woman
.

“Those are dog names. A dog deserve
s a decent name.”

M
ac slapped the steering and blew out an aggravated breath. He frowned. “Do you holler out,” Mac’s voice rose to a high pitch. “Come here, Hershey, Mama wants you to come home now.” He chuckled. “If you had a cat you’d probably name it Lasagna. This way you have a whole damn meal. Your neighbors must think you’re crazy.”

Emily shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“I personally don’t think what I name my dog, or what my neighbor’s think of me, is any of your business.” She said, fighting back anger and the desire to strangle him. “You’re probably jealous. I imagine a man like you doesn’t even own a dog.”

He sat up straighter. “What do you mean, a man like me?” Mac scowled. “What’s wrong with a man like me, and why wouldn’t I have a dog?”

She turned to him with a solemn gaze, and replied in a soft, mellow voice. “You don’t collect things, remember? Plus you don’t allow yourself to become attached.”

His mouth tightened. “I don’t have a dog because in my line of work I travel a lot.” Mac glanced out the side window. “A dog would be left alone all the time.”

“What if you worked a nine to five job, would you have a dog then?”

“Sure, I would.”

“You’re lying, again,” Em said. “I can tell.”

“I’m not lying. I’d like a dog. A big one. Like a Rottweiler, or a Doberman. I like big, mean dogs. Tough ones that eat those named Hershey for a snack.”

“You’re even competitive with pets? Who has the biggest?” Em sadly shook her head. “That’s pathetic, Mac.”

They traveled toward the Mid-cities in silence. And Mac had yet to agree to take her home. But that’s where she was going. No more spies, no more nuts trying to kill her, and no more lusting after a man she could never have.