“Thank you. Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to check phone messages and email.”
Married to the job, he thought. He grabbed two glasses from the cabinet and poured himself and Holly some tea. He settled onto the couch in the living room and closed his eyes. Sleep would come easily right now. He thought about Holly and her brush against him in the car. Had it been an overture, an invitation? He supposed it could’ve been by mistake, but in his experience, women were acutely aware of that type of contact. It didn’t take much to send the wrong signal to men. He wasn’t presumptuous enough to believe she had given him a green light for anything more than a snooze on the couch, which was looking more and more likely the longer he sat here with his eyes closed.
What a draining twenty-four hours. He ran the events through his mind. The helicopter ride into Sacramento. The ride out to the farmhouse. Henning’s challenging and arrogant attitude. The Bridgestones’ cousins’ dog-and-pony show under interrogation. The buried cash. The long ride into the mountains with Holly. James Ortega’s charred body. The SWAT raid at the farmhouse. The second tunnel. The dead surveillance techs and cousins. And the Bridgestones’ knowledge of Nathan’s involvement. What else might they know? He closed his eyes and sighed. The four hours of sleep he’d gotten earlier seemed like decades ago.
Chapter 10
“Nathan?”
He looked around. Holly’s living room. She stood a few feet away.
“How long?” he asked.
“Fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen minutes, not too deep. I guess I didn’t realize how tired I was. Sorry.”
“No need to apologize. I checked on you ten minutes ago and saw you’d dozed off. I didn’t want to wake you. I have a spare bedroom if you want a bed.”
He waved a hand at the floor. “Do you care if I stretch out in here?”
“On the floor?”
He shrugged.
“Are you sure? It’s no trouble setting you up in the spare bedroom.”
“I’m good right here, thanks.”
“At least let me put some blankets down, that wood is like concrete.” She returned half a minute later with an armful of blankets and a quilt.
Nathan picked up the coffee table and moved it aside. He didn’t want to drag it across the oak floor. Then he helped her spread the blankets out.
“Do you sleep on the floor very often?”
“I usually end up there by morning, so I may as well start there.”
“Bad dreams.”
He nodded. “It’s just something I’ve gotten used to over the years. It’s no big deal.”
“I know I keep saying this, but I’ve never met anyone like you before.”
“I’m just a guy.”
“No, you aren’t just a guy. Trust me on that.”
“We had a hell of a day.”
She took a step forward and took his hand. “Yes, we did. It doesn’t have to end just yet.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
* * *
An hour later, after Nathan had fallen asleep, Holly gathered her strewn clothes. Her body still tingling, she padded down the hall, being careful not to make any noise. He looked at peace. She wondered if he was truly asleep. The screams of her surveillance techs still fresh in her mind, she couldn’t begin to imagine the horrors he’d endured at the hands of his sadistic captor in Nicaragua. When he’d removed his shirt, her mind couldn’t register it. She’d betrayed outright shock and it had nearly ruined the moment. The crisscrossing network of scars on his chest and back looked vicious and brutal. She couldn’t begin to imagine what he’d endured. And yet he had a positive outlook on the world. He still cared. Despite how he thought of himself, Nathan McBride was a truly remarkable man. He’d been so aware of her needs during their lovemaking. Granted, there hadn’t been many: She could count them on one hand. But hands down, he’d been the most unselfish lover she’d ever been with. She hoped there might be a future for them. But given their situations and their professions, and given the distance separating them, she doubted it could work long-term. One or the other would have to relocate, and possibly give up the life he or she had built for themselves. She toyed with the idea of transferring to San Diego, but she liked being a special agent in charge of a major field office and was sure the same opportunity wouldn’t be available in San Diego for some time. Such openings were extremely rare and she felt fortunate to have been promoted to Sacramento’s top position. At least we’ll always have something special between us, she thought, tucking herself into bed. Nathan was right, it had been one hell of a day.
* * *
Holly awoke with a start. What was that sound? Had an animal somehow gotten into the house? She reached for her gun, but her hand froze an inch from its cold form. She heard a muffled moan followed by a hiss and spitting sound. No, not animal. Human. She tore the sheets away and hurried down the hall. In the living room, she dimmed the overhead light before flipping the switch. Oh dear Lord, Nathan. His hair plastered to his head, he was covered in sweat, moaning and waving his hands in front of his face at invisible demons. He issued a howl that sent a shiver through her body. He was there, in Nicaragua, being tortured. She remembered what he’d said on the ride up to the cabin, how he’d put a girlfriend in the hospital for waking him up, but how could she let this go on? Would he wake up on his own? She took several steps back and called his name from the opposite side of the couch.
No response.
She said it louder. Again, nothing. What should she do? Steeling herself, she yelled his name. His eyes snapped open, wild with anger. Gritting his teeth, a growl escaped his lips. He jumped to his feet and assumed a low fighting stance, his hand clutching an invisible knife.
“Nathan, it’s me.”
His eyes darted around the room and returned to hers. Her instincts told her to back away, but she held perfectly still. His expression changed to recognition. She rushed around the sofa and wrapped him up in her arms, ignoring the sticky feel of his skin. They held each other without speaking for several moments.
His voice cracked. “What time is it?”
“Just after four in the morning. You okay?”
“I’m really thirsty.”
“I’ll get you some water.” She returned a few seconds later and handed it to him.
He downed it in a single pull. “The moths came for me again.”
They settled onto the floor facing each other.
“Moths?”
“In Nicaragua, my interrogator put a bright light in my face at night. The moths were attracted to it. My hands were tied. I couldn’t bat them away.”
“That’s horrible.”
“Thanks for the water.”
She could see he was still trembling.
“I’m okay.”
But he wasn’t okay. An echo of terror still etched his face. She reached over and held his hand.
He half chuckled. “I wasn’t kidding when I said my picture was next to baggage. I’m sorry you had to see that. I was hoping for the night off.”
“Hey, there’s no need to apologize about anything.”
He looked down at himself. “I think I need a shower.”
“Come on.” She led him down the hall to the guest bathroom. “You want some company in there?”
“Is there a mustache in Mexico?”
She laughed, hardly believing how good it felt. “I’ll take that for a yes.”
* * *
She dropped Nathan off at the Hyatt just before five in the morning. “I’ll make sure Harvey has a copy of the tape before six.”
“You’ve got another long day ahead of you,” he said.
“Will you keep me informed of your progress?”
“You know I will.”
“Nathan… About this morning. ”
“It’s okay.”
She smiled. “I’ll call you later.”
“Stay safe, SAC Simpson.”
She smiled again and pulled away from the curb. He waved when she looked in her mirror, then strode through the lobby to the elevators. Harv would already be up, so he knocked quietly on his door. He saw the peephole darken just before the door swung inward.