A CASE OF BETRAYAL
For the next few days, Loralei avoided Donovan. He had called her cell a few times and left messages for her to call him, but she didn't. She couldn't. She didn't like listening to his voice; it would be too easy to go to him. She needed time to regroup and get her shit together. She couldn't lose her focus on the job at hand, and Donovan was so very good at distracting her. She hated that, hated him for throwing a handful of sugar into her gas tank. Although she hadn't seen him, she had heard every word, every syllable coming out of his mouth through the recorder. He talked to himself a lot, especially when he was frustrated. She wasn't sure how much he knew or how much he had figured out, but she had to be careful. Donovan didn't need to know all the secrets she kept hidden, not until she was ready.
On the third day, Donovan took to the streets at lunch. When the cases were flowing in, he rarely had time to do anything, especially taking a leisurely meal break. On slow days, he rarely ate at midday because his body was trained to adhere to his strict schedule. As a result of that, he normally didn't get hungry. Instead of eating, he often took long walks to clear his head and to deal with the stress of his day-to-day job. Today was no exception. He was irritated with his superiors. They had been promising the team a big case, but nothing had come in. Worse still, nothing had been filtered to them because of the enormity of this particular case. Yet, he had heard very little. He was antsy and on edge. He didn't like feeling this way. Of course, Loralei's sudden self-imposed isolation was grating on his nerves more than anything.
It had been almost a full three days since he had seen her last, and his patience was wearing thin. He had called her numerous times, but she was clearly avoiding him. The sad part was he didn't know why. He didn't see any reason why she would suddenly disappear for a few days after seeing him steadily for three weeks. It didn't make sense. He had been tempted to go up to the floor where her friend lived to try and find her there, but he had no idea which apartment to visit. Suddenly suspicious after all this time, he intended to confront her, to demand why she never gave him her address. Something was not right, and he didn't know what, but he would find out.
For some reason known only to those responsible for twisting fate, Donovan looked up and focused his eyes on a familiar figure directly across the street from where he stood. It was Loralei. A dark blue beret covered her hair and her eyes were shielded with a pair of dark sunglasses, but he had no trouble recognizing her. She sat alone at a small table outside an enormous bookstore. She didn't seem to be paying attention to the activity around her, and he was certain she hadn't seen him. Her eyes were focused on something placed on the table before her. He was tempted to trot across the street and demand that she tell him why she had been ducking him. Right when he had worked his nerve up, she took out a cell phone and began speaking into it. She stood and walked away from the table. Intrigued and morbidly curious, Donovan crossed the street and followed behind her from a safe distance.
Although the street was crowded and noisy, her voice carried back. She seemed to be arguing with the caller, but he couldn't make out any specific words. He continued to follow behind her and debated with himself. He didn't know whether he should catch hold of her or simply keep back out of the way. He was close to uncovering her secrets, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to do that. Perhaps his relationship with her was best left like it was. He had no doubt in his mind that she wanted him, and she would see him in time. Yet, another part of him wanted to know what was going on once and for all. Following her was his only option at this point, because she certainly wouldn't volunteer the information otherwise.
She stopped walking and stood in the middle of the sidewalk. From his vantage point a few feet behind, he watched curiously. He saw her take off her sunglasses and wipe her eyes. Was she crying? And if so, why? He again had been tempted to approach her, but she recovered quickly, and put the sunglasses back on. She snapped her phone closed and picked up the pace again. Donovan caught up quickly enough. She kept walking at a brisk pace straight ahead. This was crazy, utterly mad. He should have let it go and went back to the office. He couldn't. There was no way he could drop it now. There was too much at stake, including his heart.
Loralei rounded a corner and Donovan had to struggle to keep up with her. He recognized the area. His apartment building was located several blocks down the way, and beyond that were the ritzier, more high-priced apartments. She continued to make her way down the street. She didn't stop or look back once. She had a purpose in mind, and was solely focused on that. Donovan had no clear idea how long he had followed her, but he knew his apartment was at least twenty or more city blocks away from downtown.
She didn't stop at his building. She plodded along past it and went to the one a few blocks down. It was in a more expensive district where the tenants made no less than six figures per year. He didn't understand why she wouldn't tell him where she lived. He couldn't fight away the mixed emotions coursing through him. What the hell was going on? Why did he suddenly feel as if he had been misled for the past month? He didn't immediately follow her inside. Instead, he watched as the doorman opened the door for her. When she left his field of vision, he stood still for a few moments before turning in the opposite direction to begin the exhausting walk back. He could have hailed a taxi, but he needed to gather his thoughts.
Donovan stopped walking for a moment. He had to know. If he didn't press forward now, he never would. He was sure he looked like an idiot standing in the middle of the busy street doing nothing. He couldn't imagine the thoughts of the wealthy pedestrians as they passed him. In his black attire and overcoat, he probably looked like a terrorist. He turned back around and made his way toward the expansive apartment building. The doorman didn't want to allow him entrance, but he relented when Donovan stared him down. He would probably call the police.
The lobby of the building had a concierge. He wondered if the kid behind the counter would tell him where Loralei's apartment was. Donovan immediately intimidated him, but his face was friendly and open.
"May I help you," he said with a nervous smile.
"I hope you can. Could you tell me where I can find Loralei Kadin?"
"I can buzz her apartment and have her come down."
Although he didn't like using his shield for non-official purposes, he whipped it out anyway. He didn't want Loralei knowing he was here. He wanted to surprise her, and then confront her. He refused to leave today until she answered his questions. The kid stared down at the badge with a fascinated kind of awe in his eyes.
"I'm here on official business," he lied smoothly. "Which apartment is hers?"
Donovan chose to take the stairs. It would give him more time to decide how to approach her. He knew she would be angry, because this act clearly revealed how shakily he trusted her. Yet, he couldn't help it. He had to have some answers. He approached the last flight of stairs to the door leading to her floor. He took a deep breath, opened it, and stepped through. He saw a sign pointing to the left that would lead him to her apartment. He found it moments later. He stared at the door for what seemed like an hour or more. He hated the thought of hurting her, but what other choice did he have? He knocked on the door and stood back.
He waited with baited breath as he heard footsteps approaching the door. However, it wasn't Loralei who opened the door. It was a man. There was slight recognition in the other man's eyes that Donovan couldn't explain [he had no idea who this man was], but he wiped it away quickly and put on a nice poker face.
"Who are you," he demanded.
He couldn't see the inside of the apartment, but he was sure Loralei was inside. "Nobody," he said sedately. "I'm out of my league here." He nodded at him and turned away.
After the federal agent disappeared, he turned to Loralei. "What was that all about?"
She sat on the couch with her hands covering her face. She had no idea that Donovan had been following her. Or did she? She wanted him to find out, she wanted the lies to end. She had already overstepped the bounds when she slept with him. But now, everything was totally fucked up. She uncovered her face. "I don't know," she lied.
* * *
Donovan sat in his darkened living room. What had just happened? The man inside Loralei's apartment had eyed him very briefly as if he knew who he was, but he had never seen him before. Was she married? Was that why he seemed to know him? Did he know they had slept together? Although he was still confused, things were beginning to come together and made sense. He thought back to the weeks she had denied him, refused his advances, and wouldn't invite him to her place. It was all due to the fact she was attached to someone else. It was devastating, and he couldn't quite comprehend it all.
His cell phone chirped sharply. He recognized the tone as an incoming text message. At first, he almost ignored it. However, his curiosity overwhelmed him. He flipped open the phone and punched a button to retrieve the message. Meet me where we had our first date. Unbelievably, he stared down at the message and read it again, and then read it once more for good measure. It was clearly from Loralei. He didn't want to see her, not after today, but something about her had left an imprint on him, and he had to go. He grabbed his jacket and headed out the door.
The restaurant was crowded, but Donovan spotted Loralei right away. He approached the table and noticed that she appeared hurt, ashamed, angry, and embarrassed all at the same time. His heart ached fiercely. He didn't like being played for a fool, and he didn't make it a habit to sleep with married women, but as he looked at her, his heart fluttered ever so slightly. It had only been three days since he last saw her, but it felt more like a year.
"Please sit down and let me explain," she whispered.
He pulled out a chair and sat down stiffly. He was mad as hell, but was desperately trying to hold it back. "Explain what, Loralei? Why didn't you tell me you were married? Why? You're all I think about, all I want, and now I must face the reality that you were lying to me."
She lowered her head and sighed. His eyes had never left her, but she couldn't meet his gaze. "Frank, you don't understand."
"What is it that I don't understand," he demanded. She didn't speak, didn't look up. He reached out to her and lifted her chin. "Look at me, Loralei," he whispered harshly. "Look at me and tell me what I don't understand."
Loralei had no clear idea what she was going to say. She was confused and messed up. "I wasn't supposed to sleep with you, I wasn't supposed to even kiss you. I wasn't…" Her voice died out. She could say nothing more. She sat back in her chair so his hand would fall away from her face. She didn't want him to touch her again.
"No shit," he said, harsher than he intended. However, he had been cut, and cut deeply. He felt the need to hurt back. "Fidelity is a big thing in marriage. I'm single, and even I know that."
"Would you stop being so hateful and listen. I'm trying…trying to tell you," she said. She didn't want to cry, but it was a struggle. "I didn't expect I'd want you so much, that I'd need you, but it happened, and I don't know why. I'm not who you think I am, Frank."
His eyes bored into her. The look had changed from a steady gaze to a glare. "That's patently obvious. I don't enjoy these cutting mind games. I do that enough at work. I don't expect it at home, and I don't want it." He pushed his chair back and stood. "I can't continue this. I don't want to see you again."
Loralei sighed heavily as he left her. He didn't want to see her again. It was almost funny because he had little choice in the matter. He was thinking like a man, not an agent, and if he could have seen through his heartbroken fog, he might have figured it out. Blinded by hurt, sidetracked by desire, he had no clue. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. If he had only opened his eyes…
* * *
Donovan went to work early. He had a hard time sleeping the night before. Loralei had literally torn his heart out and spit on it, and he wasn't sure how long it would take for it to heal. He still couldn't believe it. He was physically sick and more than upset, but he had to put it out of his mind. He was wearing a different hat today. He would need the use of his entire brain. The directives he had waited for were to be sent today, along with two FBI agents.
He briefly skimmed over the scant information that had come in from the central office. The FBI had been tracking a female serial killer who was reported to be in or around the area. She was a black widow type killer who had been charged with four counts of homicide, with one other charge pending in Texas. From what Donovan understood, the FBI had requested the assistance of his specialized team. They needed both him and Jake to go in undercover as wealthy businessmen. He groaned inwardly. The assignment wasn't everything it had been hyped up to be. Not only that, but there weren't enough details on the sheet. However, he and the team were to be briefed as soon as the agents working the case arrived for the 9:00 a.m. meeting. He hoped no one, especially Jake, would be late.
As it turned out, the only ones who were late were the FBI agents. Donovan and the gang sat around the conference table discussing what little they knew. Donovan's eyes fixed on Jake every now and then. He seemed a bit on the tired side. A part of him was insanely jealous. A few days ago, he had had a reason to be tired, but not anymore. He couldn't begrudge him for his seeming exhausted happiness, but it hurt thinking of Loralei. I must stop this, he thought. He cursed her, and he cursed himself for still wanting her.
"I'm sorry we're late, Agent Donovan."
Donovan looked up suddenly at the two agents. He had been drifting again. If it weren't for the extreme control he insisted on maintaining through whatever hell broke loose, he would have fallen right out of his chair. One agent was male, the other female. The man he only halfway looked at. His eyes were riveted on the woman. Jake saw her as well, and immediately recognized her. Loralei.
