NEVER MY LOVE
by matahari2
Chapter Five – Going Forward
At 9:30 a.m., Amanda King walked into the IFF Georgetown foyer with a decided spring in her step, and a glowing smile on her face when she greeted the often-stern receptionist. "Good morning, Mrs. Marston! It's a beautiful day, isn't it? The word for today is 'calico'."
"Morning, Mrs. King," Mrs. Marston answered, handing Amanda her badge. The older woman was secretly glad to see Mrs. King looking so happy, but of course, she had to keep up her cover.
Down on the third underground level, as Amanda entered the bullpen, Lee Stetson was just emerging from Billy Melrose's office. When he saw her smiling face, he smiled, too. "Morning, Amanda..."
"Hi, Sw...Lee," she greeted him. "What's happening? Do we have some news about Pascal?"
"You guessed it," Lee replied, taking her elbow and leading her out of the bullpen and back toward the elevator. "Pascal's been busy. Our guys followed him to a pawn shop at Wisconsin Avenue and Westmoreland...they figure he's either already fenced the jewels through them or negotiated their deal, and he'll be back later. Then he went out to a large estate in Montgomery County, along Woodland Road. He's been there for about fifteen minutes."
"So, is that where we're going, over to Montgomery County?" Amanda inquired.
"Right again, " he said with a grin, "and you'll never guess who lives at 1500 Woodland Road."
As the elevator doors opened and Lee pushed the coats aside for them to enter, Amanda chuckled and said, "Someone from our checkered past? Awww, c'mon, Lee, give me a hint!"
"Okay..." Lee gave in, but, having way too much fun with this, he continued, "Well, it had something to do with 'dangerous hairdryers', as I recall, and you managed to slow him down with a can of hairspray..."
"NO!" she practically shouted. "Not Bobby Bouchard, of Connie Beth Cosmetics! I know that was over three years ago, Lee, but, that's not a very long time. I thought he was supposed to be in jail for a lot of years yet."
The elevator doors opened and they dropped their badges off at the receptionist's desk. Carelessly, Lee took her hand in his, in plain sight of Mrs. Marston, as he responded to Amanda's question. "Yeah. You're right, he should be in jail. We should have thrown away the key, for all the deaths he caused in Central America with his gun running. But unfortunately, Amanda, District Attorneys and U. S. Attorneys are politicians. And deal-making is their stock in trade. Evidently it suited someone's purpose to have him serve a shorter sentence."
"I understand that it happens, but that doesn't make it right, " she said. "Okay, then. We're after Bouchard, right? But what about the pawn shop and the jewels, and what about Mr. Jorgensen? He seems like such a nice man...I sure hope he's not involved in all this."
She was always concerned for the innocents, or at least those she hoped were innocent. Lee had to admire her for that. He smiled and answered, "Well, there's another Agency team questioning Jack Robertson, the proprietor of the Westmoreland Pawn Shop, to see about his dealings with Pascal. And Francine left just a little while ago to go and talk to Jorgensen about the delivery of the boxes. And no, I don't think he's involved. I can't believe he would have been so open with us, showing us the other two boxes in the stockroom, if he thought he'd get into trouble for it."
"Good. I'm glad," she said, relieved that Lee didn't suspect the antique dealer. "Oh, Lee, look, here's Woodland Road coming up on the right..."
By the time Lee pulled the silver Corvette up the circular drive and under the portico, the Agency team had neutralized and arrested all of Bouchard's guards who had been stationed on the perimeter of the property. As near as they were able to tell, only Pascal, Bouchard, and the housekeeping staff were inside.
Lee motioned to agents Fred Fielder and Frank Duffy to cover the service entrance near the back of the house. For about two seconds, he thought about asking Amanda to stay in the car, but he didn't need an argument today, and surprisingly enough, she made no move to follow him as he walked up to the front entrance. Large floor-to-ceiling windows flanked the sides of the massive carved wood double doors, so it was easy to see that there was no one in the foyer or the large dining room just to the right of the doorway. Lee picked the lock, and entered silently.
Daylight was seeping under a door near the back of the foyer, and Lee could see shadows flitting through that light. As he neared the room, he could hear voices, two, he thought, one with a French accent...that would be Pascal...and one, higher pitched, fading British accent...yeah, that was Bouchard, all right. Just at that moment, Frank Duffy was coming down the hallway from the kitchen, giving Lee a sign that the housekeeping staff had been evacuated. Lee nodded at Duffy and pointed with his thumb toward what appeared to be Bouchard's office.
Lee tried the door handle, as quietly as possible. Locked. 'Terrific!' he thought. He and Frank Duffy kicked in the door, and entered with guns lifted, ready to fire. Good thing. Bobby Bouchard had one, too.
"Federal Agents!" Lee shouted, lifting his badge with his free hand. "Just so we take care of all the technicalities," he said, dropping the search warrant and arrest warrants on the huge oak desk. "...and forget about it, Bouchard. Drop your weapon. You're outnumbered, and your hired help outside is no good to you now."
"You again!" Bouchard shrieked, but he put the gun down. He knew he'd been beaten.
"You remembered? I'm touched," Lee said, in mock humor. "So...it looks like we came to the party right on time, gentlemen...hmmm, what's this? Looks an awful lot like the plans for a Tomahawk missile...and I see our Monsieur Pascal was well paid. I'm surprised, Bouchard, didn't you realize no one pays in cash anymore? I guess your little 'forced vacation' left you out of the loop on this new business of electronic cash transfers. Too bad." Then Lee turned to Frank and said, "Okay, Duffy, read 'em their rights," as he placed a pair of handcuffs on Pascal's wrists.
Lee left it to Frank Duffy and Fred Fielder to take both men back to the Agency holding cells. Amanda stood facing him, leaning her back into the 'Vette. "All wrapped up?" she asked.
"Mm-hmm, and without a shot being fired, for a change," he answered. "Speaking of which, I notice you actually stayed in the car this time..."
Amanda smiled and started to say, "Well..I thought to myself, if he's not out of there in five more minutes..."
"Aha! I knew it was too good to be true!" he laughed. "Hey, it's only 11:30, what do you say we head over to Nedlinger's for lunch?"
"Okay, that'll be fine," Amanda said with a sweet smile.
Nedlingers was just starting to get busy, when Lee and Amanda arrived, nearly bumping into Francine Desmond. "Well hello, you two! Busy day? A little distracted, are we?" Francine greeted them, in her own inimitable way.
"Hi, Francine," Lee said. "Yes, it has been a busy day, and Bouchard and Pascal are both in custody. How'd you do at the antique shop?"
"Well, there's no reason to suspect Jorgensen. He just received the shipment through one of his regular suppliers, with a note that there was already an order for that one special music box," Francine answered. "I talked with Jacobsen, too, and he picked up Robertson and a nice little package filled with diamonds."
"Good," Lee said, "See you later," as Francine left to go back to the Agency.
He held out is hand to Amanda, and they took their seats in one of the booths near the back of the restaurant. After they placed their orders, Lee looked directly into her sparkling brown eyes and said, "Well! We've covered a lot of ground in the last two days, haven't we?"
As Lee held her hand, gently rubbing his thumb across her fingertips, Amanda smiled, looked down at their joined hands, then looked into his eyes and said, "Yes, we most certainly have. Lee, do you remember when Joe came home from Estoccia, and I told him I didn't want to go back?"
Lee finished the thought, "You wanted to go forward."
"Right," she said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, "and now, even through all the pain of the last couple of days, I don't know, maybe even because of it...I really believe we can."
Yes. Lee Stetson loved her. And she knew it, for sure.
THE END
by matahari2
Chapter Five – Going Forward
At 9:30 a.m., Amanda King walked into the IFF Georgetown foyer with a decided spring in her step, and a glowing smile on her face when she greeted the often-stern receptionist. "Good morning, Mrs. Marston! It's a beautiful day, isn't it? The word for today is 'calico'."
"Morning, Mrs. King," Mrs. Marston answered, handing Amanda her badge. The older woman was secretly glad to see Mrs. King looking so happy, but of course, she had to keep up her cover.
Down on the third underground level, as Amanda entered the bullpen, Lee Stetson was just emerging from Billy Melrose's office. When he saw her smiling face, he smiled, too. "Morning, Amanda..."
"Hi, Sw...Lee," she greeted him. "What's happening? Do we have some news about Pascal?"
"You guessed it," Lee replied, taking her elbow and leading her out of the bullpen and back toward the elevator. "Pascal's been busy. Our guys followed him to a pawn shop at Wisconsin Avenue and Westmoreland...they figure he's either already fenced the jewels through them or negotiated their deal, and he'll be back later. Then he went out to a large estate in Montgomery County, along Woodland Road. He's been there for about fifteen minutes."
"So, is that where we're going, over to Montgomery County?" Amanda inquired.
"Right again, " he said with a grin, "and you'll never guess who lives at 1500 Woodland Road."
As the elevator doors opened and Lee pushed the coats aside for them to enter, Amanda chuckled and said, "Someone from our checkered past? Awww, c'mon, Lee, give me a hint!"
"Okay..." Lee gave in, but, having way too much fun with this, he continued, "Well, it had something to do with 'dangerous hairdryers', as I recall, and you managed to slow him down with a can of hairspray..."
"NO!" she practically shouted. "Not Bobby Bouchard, of Connie Beth Cosmetics! I know that was over three years ago, Lee, but, that's not a very long time. I thought he was supposed to be in jail for a lot of years yet."
The elevator doors opened and they dropped their badges off at the receptionist's desk. Carelessly, Lee took her hand in his, in plain sight of Mrs. Marston, as he responded to Amanda's question. "Yeah. You're right, he should be in jail. We should have thrown away the key, for all the deaths he caused in Central America with his gun running. But unfortunately, Amanda, District Attorneys and U. S. Attorneys are politicians. And deal-making is their stock in trade. Evidently it suited someone's purpose to have him serve a shorter sentence."
"I understand that it happens, but that doesn't make it right, " she said. "Okay, then. We're after Bouchard, right? But what about the pawn shop and the jewels, and what about Mr. Jorgensen? He seems like such a nice man...I sure hope he's not involved in all this."
She was always concerned for the innocents, or at least those she hoped were innocent. Lee had to admire her for that. He smiled and answered, "Well, there's another Agency team questioning Jack Robertson, the proprietor of the Westmoreland Pawn Shop, to see about his dealings with Pascal. And Francine left just a little while ago to go and talk to Jorgensen about the delivery of the boxes. And no, I don't think he's involved. I can't believe he would have been so open with us, showing us the other two boxes in the stockroom, if he thought he'd get into trouble for it."
"Good. I'm glad," she said, relieved that Lee didn't suspect the antique dealer. "Oh, Lee, look, here's Woodland Road coming up on the right..."
By the time Lee pulled the silver Corvette up the circular drive and under the portico, the Agency team had neutralized and arrested all of Bouchard's guards who had been stationed on the perimeter of the property. As near as they were able to tell, only Pascal, Bouchard, and the housekeeping staff were inside.
Lee motioned to agents Fred Fielder and Frank Duffy to cover the service entrance near the back of the house. For about two seconds, he thought about asking Amanda to stay in the car, but he didn't need an argument today, and surprisingly enough, she made no move to follow him as he walked up to the front entrance. Large floor-to-ceiling windows flanked the sides of the massive carved wood double doors, so it was easy to see that there was no one in the foyer or the large dining room just to the right of the doorway. Lee picked the lock, and entered silently.
Daylight was seeping under a door near the back of the foyer, and Lee could see shadows flitting through that light. As he neared the room, he could hear voices, two, he thought, one with a French accent...that would be Pascal...and one, higher pitched, fading British accent...yeah, that was Bouchard, all right. Just at that moment, Frank Duffy was coming down the hallway from the kitchen, giving Lee a sign that the housekeeping staff had been evacuated. Lee nodded at Duffy and pointed with his thumb toward what appeared to be Bouchard's office.
Lee tried the door handle, as quietly as possible. Locked. 'Terrific!' he thought. He and Frank Duffy kicked in the door, and entered with guns lifted, ready to fire. Good thing. Bobby Bouchard had one, too.
"Federal Agents!" Lee shouted, lifting his badge with his free hand. "Just so we take care of all the technicalities," he said, dropping the search warrant and arrest warrants on the huge oak desk. "...and forget about it, Bouchard. Drop your weapon. You're outnumbered, and your hired help outside is no good to you now."
"You again!" Bouchard shrieked, but he put the gun down. He knew he'd been beaten.
"You remembered? I'm touched," Lee said, in mock humor. "So...it looks like we came to the party right on time, gentlemen...hmmm, what's this? Looks an awful lot like the plans for a Tomahawk missile...and I see our Monsieur Pascal was well paid. I'm surprised, Bouchard, didn't you realize no one pays in cash anymore? I guess your little 'forced vacation' left you out of the loop on this new business of electronic cash transfers. Too bad." Then Lee turned to Frank and said, "Okay, Duffy, read 'em their rights," as he placed a pair of handcuffs on Pascal's wrists.
Lee left it to Frank Duffy and Fred Fielder to take both men back to the Agency holding cells. Amanda stood facing him, leaning her back into the 'Vette. "All wrapped up?" she asked.
"Mm-hmm, and without a shot being fired, for a change," he answered. "Speaking of which, I notice you actually stayed in the car this time..."
Amanda smiled and started to say, "Well..I thought to myself, if he's not out of there in five more minutes..."
"Aha! I knew it was too good to be true!" he laughed. "Hey, it's only 11:30, what do you say we head over to Nedlinger's for lunch?"
"Okay, that'll be fine," Amanda said with a sweet smile.
Nedlingers was just starting to get busy, when Lee and Amanda arrived, nearly bumping into Francine Desmond. "Well hello, you two! Busy day? A little distracted, are we?" Francine greeted them, in her own inimitable way.
"Hi, Francine," Lee said. "Yes, it has been a busy day, and Bouchard and Pascal are both in custody. How'd you do at the antique shop?"
"Well, there's no reason to suspect Jorgensen. He just received the shipment through one of his regular suppliers, with a note that there was already an order for that one special music box," Francine answered. "I talked with Jacobsen, too, and he picked up Robertson and a nice little package filled with diamonds."
"Good," Lee said, "See you later," as Francine left to go back to the Agency.
He held out is hand to Amanda, and they took their seats in one of the booths near the back of the restaurant. After they placed their orders, Lee looked directly into her sparkling brown eyes and said, "Well! We've covered a lot of ground in the last two days, haven't we?"
As Lee held her hand, gently rubbing his thumb across her fingertips, Amanda smiled, looked down at their joined hands, then looked into his eyes and said, "Yes, we most certainly have. Lee, do you remember when Joe came home from Estoccia, and I told him I didn't want to go back?"
Lee finished the thought, "You wanted to go forward."
"Right," she said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, "and now, even through all the pain of the last couple of days, I don't know, maybe even because of it...I really believe we can."
Yes. Lee Stetson loved her. And she knew it, for sure.
THE END
