~XIV~
Heading purposefully for the blinking red light of the ambulance, Amanda pushed her way through the swarming officials. She shook her head wearily as she approached. From the sound of things, Lee was giving the poor paramedic his usual hard time.
"Mr. Stetson, please," he pleaded as her husband tried to extricate himself from his professional clutches. "I have to clean this."
"I'll do it," she said, elbowing the young man gently out of the way. Grinning sweetly, she pointedly held Lee's gaze. "I've had lots of practice."
As the grateful medic relinquished his position, Amanda ripped open the antiseptic swab, sitting beside her husband in the back of the open ambulance. "Well, Stetson," she stated as she gently attended to the cuts on his forehead and cheek, "you sure know how to show a girl an exciting weekend."
"I try," he returned with a flippant laugh. "Although, this wasn't exactly the kind of excitement I had . . . Ouch!" Frowning, he jerked his head out of her reach.
"Don't be a baby," she grumbled good-naturedly as she scooted closer. "Come on, Lee, I have to get the dirt out."
"It hurts," her husband informed her petulantly, suddenly sounding remarkably like little Matthew.
She struggled to hide her smile. "I'll bet. That's what you get for rolling down a brambly embankment like a . . . a field agent."
"Seemed like a good idea at the time." Looking pointedly at the weapon secured by her belt, he added, "You're a fine one to talk."
"And you're lucky you don't need stitches," she told him, ignoring his remark. She felt him tense again as she started on his cheek. "Be brave," she coaxed sweetly, "and I'll make it up to you later."
"Is that a promise?"
She gave him a slow smile. "Most definitely."
He surveyed the scene with a regretful sigh. "I'm probably going to be tied up here most of the night." Nodding, he indicated the gaggle of agents surrounding the two body bags. "They have a positive I.D. on Walters' contact. Gunter Green."
Amanda raised her eyebrows. "The 'Financier?' I'm impressed. Our humble little professor was keeping some pretty heavy company."
Lee nodded. "And this may only be the tip of the iceberg. Looks like Walters may have been a conduit for more than information."
"Weapons shipments?"
"Among other things. Green had his fingers in a lot of pies."
She whistled. "Some university. Guess Phillip inherited my knack for attracting trouble."
"At least he didn't inherit your knack for disobeying orders." Lee shook his head remorsefully. "I'd have never forgiven myself if he'd ended up in the middle of this."
She bit her bottom lip as she finished tending the last of his scrapes. "There," she stated in an unusually quiet voice, "all set."
He smiled warmly at her. "Thanks. Feels better."
They sat side by side, watching in silence as the scene played out in front of them. They worked so hard to build a wall around their family, she thought glumly, struggled to keep the Agency firmly outside it. Then, when they least expected it, trouble slipped in through an unexpected chink. At her son's college, of all places, where danger was supposed to mean partying too hard on a Saturday night.
"I talked to Phillip," she told him in a small voice. "They're going to keep Joe at the hospital overnight for observation. He was throwing some PVC's."
"Heart attack?"
"No, just too much stress, I guess. Phillip is going to the hospital to stay with Carrie."
She heard Lee exhale loudly. "Amanda, what you did tonight . . . it was pretty foolhardy. Breaking into Walters' office with a civilian . . ."
She rolled her eyes. "Don't get all holier than thou with me, Scarecrow. You may be my section chief, but . . ." She gave him a brittle little laugh. "I seem to recall a suspended agent breaking into a United States postal facility with a civilian once upon a time. Besides," she added testily, "maybe if you'd cared to share your investigation of good old 'Jimbo' with me, I wouldn't have gone there with Joe in tow."
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him run a hand through his hair. "Point taken," he replied, folding his arms across his chest. "I just didn't want to worry you. That offhand comment he made about Jenny and your mother . . . well, it set off some alarm bells for me, too, so I activated a security net."
She tensed suddenly, searching his eyes. "Everything's okay at home?"
"Everything's fine at home." He leaned over, brushing his lips gently across her forehead. "Matt and Jenny's lights were out at 8:30 sharp, your mother spent a quiet evening with Captain Curt and Jamie . . ." He shook his head dramatically. "Well, I'm afraid Jamie came in ten minutes past his curfew."
She slapped him lightly on the chest. "Probably wouldn't be quite fair to hold him accountable for that."
He laughed in return, catching her hand in his. "Probably not."
"Scarecrow."
She felt Lee quickly let go, and, turning, she saw Hank motioning. "I guess I've gotta go to work," Lee groaned, rising gingerly.
"I see that." As she hopped down easily from her perch on the ambulance, she wondered how many bruises he'd be sporting tomorrow. Reaching for the firearm, she handed it to her husband with a hint of a smile. "Uh, you might want to give this back to Hank."
"That's not all I'd like to give him," he added wryly. "I know, I know," he added off her look, "you wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. Are you going back to the Inn?"
She shook her head. "I think I'm going to check on things at the hospital. Maybe talk to Phillip a bit - make sure he's okay."
Lee nodded. "I'll catch up with you later." He started for Hank, then stopped, slowly turning to catch her eye. "One of these days, Mrs. Stetson," she heard him say in the tone that always made her shiver.
"Yeah," she replied in a hoarse whisper.
He gave her a sexy wink. "Hold that thought."
As she watched him make his way over to the other agents, she let out a plaintive sigh. Thoughts were more than likely all she would be holding again tonight.
To be concluded…