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Chapter 31

Someone will get killed

Maddie has spent most of the evening with a smile advertising a welcomed change in her mood. Looking at the reflection, she attempts to stall the growing grin. She fails.

Speaking to the mirror atop a black two-piece vanity, Maddie takes a breath.

"Can't think about Hope. She's just a kid." Winking at her reflection, "anyway, I'm scared enough about tonight."

A little get together at the Anchor will allow Ben and Ryn some time alone. And, Maddie, a better chance. To get acquainted with Agent Torrello.

"Well, I can't look much better than this." The high voice contained a mild titter.

As with most of the furnishings in her bedroom, it was decorated while in College. She would travel back to Bristol Cove during recess adding little touches from shopping sprees sponsored by her stepfather.

The black vanity set possessed a mirror with plastic black borders. Sheriff Bishop's picture prominent in the right corner of the mirror.

Positioned near the sole window sat a Queen Size bed. The blush color bedspread covered pure white sheets, bought in an attempt to liven up the room, by an oft-missing mother. Again paid for by Dale.

Two night tables of dark imitation wood augmented the requirements left to be desired by a small closet and medium sized chest, which possessed five drawers. The young woman did enjoy the fact that she towered over the little over four feet piece, even if it is only a foot, or so. Her relationship with her two lovers at times left her powerless.

"Well, let's check me out." The happy face in the mirror shimmied slender shoulders as her expression held a trace of humor.

The time spent choosing the correct products for just that right look, surpassed the purchase and travel time for just that right dress.

"Ok, my primer is perfect for this foundation." A medium bronze highlighted her light brown skin tone. Eyeing her image, the young biologist exhaled through gritted teeth. The uneasiness of the obvious angst associated with the night's plans eased as a fashion magazine's recommendation for an oil-free cosmetic would negate any perspiration. She hoped.

"Those people know their stuff." A column in the allure advised using a concealer to blend the foundation with a hint of powder. This proved worth-while.

Another slow sigh heard as she exhaled. "I guess this shade is ok?" The anxious young woman is correct.

"They look bigger and that smoky or whatever eye shadow." She marveled at her appearance as dark eyes over the soft application of eye shadow showed a pretty picture in the mirror. With a minimum amount from each product, the desired look is achieved. "Less is more." She nodded in agreement.

Loose, jet black relaxed curls appeared to tickle her shoulders. The perfectly balanced part split her hairstyle in two.

Slender shoulders wiggled as she spoke to the reflection in the mirror.

"I'm just wanting to look the best I can." Her expression showed doubt. Pressing her lips together, they receded and she pushed a breath through her clenched teeth.

"Who am I kidding?" Loose curls swayed as she shook her head.

"That guy…Joe." She needed to swallow to moisten a dry throat. "Something happened to me when he introduced himself."

"What am I doing?" Shaking her head at the reflection, she stood up. Stepping back to get a better look at the dress, her exquisite form reflected enough information concerning the choice of attire to send shivers up her body. "My…"

Maddie's chest tightened, halting any speech.

I look like some slut. A simple black dress for a drunken get together in some waterfront dive.

Matching polished nails matching her lip color pawed with her sparse eyebrows. A nervous habit developed as a child.

"Why can't I get those stem cells?" She inhaled as she stared at the ceiling. "How could I ever compete with Ryn in satisfying Ben…or satisfying Ryn…competing with…"

A tear speeds down her left cheek. She pulls the nightstand's chair and sits. Deep sighs and a gentle sobbing fill the room.

The waterfront some distance from the Anchor

The figure in a three piece suit stands at the pier. The smell of fish and diesel fuel appear to have no impact on the well-dressed man. His mind wanders to an event months before. He looks down at the surface. He can't block the vision from appearing.

"You are that damn terrorist. I can't believe it. You're supposed to be dead." He points his finger at her as he speaks. "What the hell was all that?"
"Please, I don't remember anything. It was the Russians…" She looks on the verge of tears.

"The Russians? They were at the bottom of this?" He takes time to think, as she lays on the bed below deck. "What are you telling me?"

She reaches for his hand.

"You're trembling. Please," He sits next to her.

"I think they forced me. I don't know." She cringes.

"Oh, you made a miraculous recovery but easy."

Mike's girlfriend, Alice comes down to check on the injured woman.

"Shh, don't say a word about this." He whispers.

"Joe, how is she?" The lanky blond in an almost invisible two piece bathing suit tilts her head toward the young woman. "Like my clothes?" She asks.

"Yes, thank you." Her answer sends Alice back up top. A sent of marijuana means Mike has started to party without her.

"Listen, maybe you were forced to do that speech?" Joe asks.

"What speech? I don't remember. Only that Russians are evil." Her voice breaks.

"Joe…you are Joe…" Her breathing becomes irregular.

"Easy, baby." He puts his arms around her. "Whatever happened is over. I'm here." He leans back and continues. "Nothing is gonna happen to you. Ok." He smiles.

"Joe, thank you. Please no hospital. I can't."

"Listen, the right people found you."
"What?" Her confused expression brings him closer. "I need you to protect me. I don't like humans." Her voice in a whisper.

"Look," his nose almost touching hers. "I don't like them either." Another giggle leaves his mouth.

"Mike is filthy rich and couldn't care about anything political. In a little while he'll be so stoned he won't remember you're on board."

"Oh," she whispers still holding Joe's hand.

"That girl, Alice," He snorts a chuckle. "I don't think she even knows where Russia is?" He smirks. "And me," his chest shakes from a short spurt of chuckles. "If I want to hide someone, well." A sly smile travels from his lips. "That's what I was trained for."
A horn blast from a passing ferry brings the government agent back to the present.

"Damn!" He tells the open water to his front. "If these people ever knew why I'm here…"

The thirty something man needs to take a breath. His next few words are becoming too difficult to form.

"They'd kill me." Turning, he heads for the Anchor. "Well, if not me…" he sighs.

"Someone will get killed."