~~IX~~
Run! Run! She needed to run. The door was there, just ahead of her, if only she could reach it. 'Help me,' she tried to say, but the words choked her. Something smelled so funny . . .
The night air had a bitter chill to it now. A fire would feel so good, but she only had one match . . . It was waterproof, but the fog was getting so thick . . . 'Don't let the fire get too big,' a voice warned. 'They might find us.' Find us . . .
Will Billy find us?
She was running, running . . . she had to keep running. Was she alone or was someone beside her? Someone . . . something . . . tugged on her wrist. Was she chained?
Run, run, she needed to run!
Or maybe she didn't. His arms were so warm . . . and she was so cold. 'I just want you to know,' she started to say, but something stopped her. What? What did he need to know?
"Mommy. Mommy."
A relentless tugging on her shoulder pulled Amanda out of a fitful sleep. "Mommy, wake up," a small voice repeated insistently.
She rolled over, the vivid dream images blurring into nothingness as she looked into a pair of hazel eyes. "Emily, what are you doing out of bed? What time is it?" She sat up and squinted sleepily at her clock-radio. "Honey, it's not even seven o'clock yet. You should still be asleep."
"Where's Daddy?" Emily asked, not about to be sidetracked.
"He's not in Phillip and Jamie's room?" Amanda asked, trying to buy herself some time.
"No." Emily peered over her mother's shoulder hopefully, as if she might find her father in the other half of the bed. Her lower lip trembled as she asked, "Didn't he come home?"
Amanda sighed. How could she tell her daughter that at the present time, this bedroom was the least likely place on earth Lee was to be found? She'd had enough difficulty getting Emily to go to bed the night before without Lee there to read a story and tuck her in.
Throwing back the quilt, she scooted over and patted the mattress. "Come here, sweetheart."
Emily's face broke into a smile as she climbed into bed and snuggled against her mother.
"You know Daddy has a really important job," Amanda began, tucking the covers around the two of them.
Emily nodded. "Uh-huh."
"And sometimes that means that Daddy has to stay away overnight. Even when we don't want him to."
"But I want him to be home with us. I made him a picture yesterday at preschool, and he didn't even see it." Her voice quivered, and she drew a little closer to her mother.
"I know, kitten; I know." Amanda sighed and smoothed her daughter's sleep tangled curls. "And Daddy wants to be with you, too, but sometimes he just can't."
"Is he coming home tonight?" Emily persisted.
Despite everything, Amanda had to smile. She had no doubt where Emily had inherited her questioning technique; maybe they should forget about enrolling her in kindergarten next year and find her a position at the Agency instead.
"I don't know," she said truthfully. "I think so." He'd be there if she had anything to say about it. It was one thing to turn his back on his marriage, but his daughter was another matter entirely. "Look, why don't you go get dressed, and I'll make you special blueberry pancakes for breakfast."
"Okay." Emily threw her arms around Amanda's neck in a tight hug. "I love you, Mommy."
"I love you too, Em." Amanda watched as her daughter scampered out of the room. It was true, she thought with a sudden pang of her heart. She still found herself amazed at the depth of feeling she had for this little girl whom she'd met only a few short weeks ago. And there was no way on earth she'd just stand by and let her be hurt.
She didn't care if Lee decided to walk out on her, she told herself stubbornly, after all, she barely knew the man. It wasn't as if he'd leave a gaping hole in her life if he wasn't there, now, would he? But she refused to let him break Emily's heart. She'd just have to sit him down and make him realize his responsibilities. One husband who'd decided to abandon his children was quite enough for her.
"And that's the latest in news and sports."
Amanda jumped at the sudden voice then realized it was the clock-radio. She reached out to shut it off, pausing as the announcer's next words sank in. "We'll be right back with the AccuWeather report with Dean the Weather Machine McGuire. But first a message from Mr. Emelio's Spa and Salon."
How strange was that. She'd been thinking about Dean just the evening before. And now here he was doing the weather. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to talk to someone who had been part of the life that seemed so immediate to her, regardless of the fact that it was actually almost ten years in the past. She could easily contact him through the station or leave a message for him to call her. She hesitated for a moment, then put out a hand and reached for the telephone.
~ ~ SMK ~ ~
"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in."
The words reverberated through him, but the voice didn't sound like Amanda's. It must be . . .
"Francine," he groaned as he rubbed his encrusted eyes and forced them to open. He squinted as the light smacked him squarely in the face. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"I work here," she said with a laugh that sounded a little too much like nails on a chalkboard. "And so do you – although, I think that point's debatable at the moment. What the hell happened to you? You look like you've been through the wringer and back again."
"Yeah, well, you ought to see it from this side," he moaned, struggling to achieve a sitting position. His back was killing him – the springs on this old couch must be shot. He tried to lick his dry lips, but his tongue felt as if it was glued to the roof of his mouth. And his head . . . oh, God, his head . . . there must be a jackhammer pounding inside it.
He groaned and leaned back against the sofa. "I don't suppose you'd take pity on me and see if there's any soda in the fridge."
"Sure, for a small price." Francine snickered as she walked over to the refrigerator in the corner of the office. "I want all the dirty details, Scarecrow. Spill it – now."
With a teasing smile, she popped open a bright red can of Coke and held it tantalizingly out of his reach.
He leaned forward and wrestled it from her grasp, drinking greedily to assuage his massive thirst. "This must be good," he heard Francine chortle. "I haven't seen you in such bad shape since Beaman threw you that belated bachelor party."
He rubbed his pounding temples. "You came to my bachelor party? What did you do, jump out of the cake?"
"Very funny. If you must know, I was your official chauffeur. I delivered you safely back into the arms of your loving wife when it was all over." Francine laughed. "Come to think of it, on that particular morning after, you were in even worse shape. You actually looked as green as you felt."
He tried to shoot her a murderous glare but in his present condition all he could manage was a weak frown. He'd actually felt worse than this? That must have been one hell of a party. And what did she mean, she brought him back to his wife? Francine must be more confused than he was – a bachelor party took place before the wedding, not after.
He sighed as he crumpled the empty can then tossed it in the trash. It landed with a loud rattle, and he instinctively brought his hand to his head. "I will never, never drink again. Scout's honor."
Francine rolled her eyes. "Here," she said, finally taking pity on him and handing him a wet towel. "I thought you might need this, so I stopped off in the ladies' room on my way up here."
"Thanks, Francine," he murmured as the cool, wet cloth began to revive him. "You're a real pal."
"I thought maybe you could use one of those, too." She smiled wryly. "Amanda must be pretty angry with you. No wonder she's working down in the bullpen."
The bullpen . . . Billy . . . He sprang to his feet, suddenly feeling all too sober. "What time is it, Francine?"
"Almost noon. And yes, Billy sent me up here for those forms, Scarecrow. You remember, don't you? The ones you were supposed to have on his desk first thing this morning?"
Lee groaned again at Francine's grin; she was having entirely too much fun at his expense. "They're over there, somewhere," he grumbled, indicating the mess of files littering his desk. "I came in last night to finish them up, but somehow I don't think I ever got around to it."
She picked up a neat stack of papers. "They're right here on top. Hmm, for a man who doesn't remember filling out a form, these appear to be pretty complete. Looks like someone decided to pull your backside out of the fire."
Lee frowned. Someone . . . Amanda? He had a vague recollection of someone moving around the office earlier. He distinctly recalled the sweet scent of lilacs. He thought he'd been dreaming. Lee combed his fingers through his tousled hair; hell, maybe he had been at that.
The door opened with what sounded like an angry screech, and Lee winced. Amanda marched in, pointedly ignoring him as she pulled out her chair. She murmured a vague greeting to Francine as she sat down at her desk.
"I think I'll just get these forms down to Billy," Francine put in quickly, her eyes widening as she looked from Amanda to Lee. Mouthing a quick 'good luck,' she ducked out the door.
"Ah, hi," Lee said, hoping his voice sounded more upbeat than he felt.
"Good morning," she muttered under her breath without looking up. "Or should I say afternoon?"
Lee tried to moisten his dry lips, but it didn't seem to do any good. Moaning softly, he ran his hands over his unshaven face and rubbed his eyes. Damn, he must look even worse than he felt. He glanced down at his attire. His pants were wrinkled, his shirt was half unbuttoned and his jacket was lying in a heap on the floor.
What the hell had happened last night? The last thing he recalled with any clarity was heading into a bar on M Street after he'd put Elisa Danton into that cab.
He took a few tentative steps forward, gingerly testing the water. "Uh, thanks for filling out the paperwork. I came back to the Agency to finish up, but I guess I must have, uh, fallen asleep on the job."
She raised her dark brown eyes and sent a piercing look in his direction. If the expression on her face was any indication, Amanda had passed angry hours ago and was well on her way to furious. Damn . . . he had a feeling that was one experience he didn't mind forgetting.
"I was going to come home," he began, "but it was so late . . . you know how hard it is to get a cab around here."
"You could have called."
"I'm sorry," he tried again. "I just needed a little . . ." He cleared his throat as Amanda's eyebrows shot up. The words sounded lame, even to him. How could he tell her what he needed when he didn't even know himself?
He watched her rise stiffly from her desk. "If you don't care what I think, you could have at least given a thought to your daughter," she said, a chill hanging on the edges of her words. "Emily was really worried when you didn't come home. And, believe me, I had a pretty hard time explaining your absence to her this morning."
Emily . . . He had a sudden picture of his daughter sitting on the sofa, her hazel eyes glued to the door as she waited for him. Emily . . . he'd really blown it this time.
"I really am sorry," he said with as much sincerity as he could muster through the fog of his hangover. "I'll make it up to her tonight, I promise."
He wanted to tell Amanda that he'd make it up to her, too, but somehow the words wouldn't come. "Hey, listen," he said, sidling over to her with an air of nonchalance. "Do you maybe want to go somewhere and talk? We could get something to eat, maybe at Ned's."
"Isn't that the official Agency hangout? Well, that would certainly be quiet, and I'm sure we could talk there. Besides," she added, her sarcasm turning to venom, "you look as if you've already seen enough of the bars in D.C."
He ran a hand through his hair. "Come on, Amanda. We really should discuss this . . ."
"Discuss this?" Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "That's just great! You discuss this - I'm going out."
"Out where?" he demanded with as much indignation as he could muster.
She glowered at him then turned away. "I'm meeting someone," she told him without elaborating as she grabbed her purse. "See you later."
Lee jumped as the door slammed shut behind her. He stood for a moment in the crushing silence trying to figure out what had just happened. Had Amanda really walked out in the middle of his apology?
Yeah, well, maybe she did have a point; maybe he should have called. It's just that he wasn't used to checking in with someone else, that's all.
Still, he hadn't been a total ass. He'd turned Elisa down, after all. Sent her home alone. There weren't many men in this town who could say as much.
Where the hell was Amanda going, anyway? A meeting, she'd said. That could be dangerous, especially in her condition. I mean, she had amnesia, for Pete's sake. The picture of Ling Mai flickered through his mind. What if she got into trouble out there on her own?
Lee straightened. There was only one solution; he'd just have to follow her. After all, he owed it to Emily to make sure that her mother was safe.
Grabbing his wrinkled sport coat, he shouldered into it and sprinted out the door. With any luck, he'd catch up to her in no time, and she'd never even know it.
TBC