CHAPTER 4—A NOT SO WELCOME PHONE CALL
Two hours after Loralei returned home, Donovan returned as promised. Before putting the baby down, he peeked into the bedroom and saw that Loralei was passed right out. Once Rachel was tucked away snuggly, he returned to the bedroom and flicked on the baby monitor. He then crawled onto the bed behind her as much as he had done earlier today. The moment he touched her, she moaned a little in her sleep and scooted her body closer to his. There were a few things he needed to tell her, but he didn't have the heart to wake her up. It could wait. His news would only cause her to obsess even more about this puzzling situation. He felt his own exhaustion setting in, and within moments, he had drifted off to sleep.
* * *
His office was cluttered, and he hated clutter. It reminded him too much of her. It wasn't that she was necessarily messy, but she was clumsier than a newborn giraffe learning to walk. If he wanted something broken, crumpled, messed up, or ruined, give it to her, and she would take care of it. His office was in such disarray because he had lost something he needed. If he didn't find it, he would have to find another way to cover his ass. The 'other way' would include finding her and convincing her to help. Of course, he didn't think that would be possible. She was married now and had recently had a child. Yet, if he were to dangle a carrot in front of her, she might consent to giving a bit of assistance. It was an agency thing, and the thought that Donovan would become involved had crossed his mind more than once. He wasn't very fond of her husband, and he really didn't know much about him. Information was scant, but he had enough clearance to dig a little. It wouldn't matter much to him if Donovan did become ensconced [when it came to her, he would not stay away], and he was certain that Donovan would stick his nose in where it didn't belong. He would avoid Donovan as much as possible. He and his team were pretty good at exposing dirty deeds, and his was one he didn't want dug up. Not yet. There was still much he needed to do before he could take an early retirement and disappear forever. His mind went back to Frank Donovan specifically. The thought of his presence irritated him. It had been bad when she first started fucking the guy, but it was worse when she admitted it. He hadn't attended the wedding [hell, he hadn't been invited], and really hadn't wanted to if the truth were known. He didn't know how he felt about seeing her marrying the uptight SOU leader. Her. He didn't even want to speak her name. It turned his stomach a little just thinking about it. The thought of her actually reproducing with the fuck didn't set well with him, either. Goddamn. He wondered how Donovan would react once he approached her to ask for assistance? If she didn't agree, he would have to take other, more abrupt measures. Of course, those 'measures' were messy and would leave an enormous paper trail. What was I thinking, he wondered. Why had he put all his trust in Bart Jackson? Why had Jackson been so smart? If he hadn't stumbled on his private files, none of this would have ever happened. He cackled a little crazily in the silence of his office. What was it that profilers were fond of saying with regard to serial killers? Those sick fucks started making mistakes as a way of calling for help. Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. He didn't want help, not the kind that would lead to disrupting his double life anyway. He would accept help, but it would have to come on his terms, and his only.
Quietly, he turned toward his cluttered desk. He began putting away the strewn papers. A horrid thought entered his mind. What if Jackson had had his file in his possession? No one had mentioned seeing it. If he had taken the file to her, wouldn't he already know by now? Wouldn't he already have his balls in the fire? What about Donovan? Wouldn't that prick have paid a visit? He was fairly confident that if it all came down around his feet, the UC team might be called in to fix this. His superior was in love with the SOU, and he threw them in the mix whenever he was given the opportunity. Also, his dirty little secrets had a little to do with Donovan's wife. He didn't doubt that Donovan would probably commit murder if a person even attempted to hurt her. He began stuffing the shit on his desk in vacant drawers and into the filing cabinet. Once his desktop was thankfully clutter-free, he sat down at his computer. He had access to numerous files. His status had given him ultimate clearance. Sighing, he typed in her name and her file sprang up almost instanteously. He reviewed each and every transfer request she had made during her tenure with ICD. There seemed to be dozens of them. He saw DENIED so many times his head spun. It was Jackson's fault that she had gotten her final transfer request. Dratted Jackson again. When he first heard of Jackson's affinity for her, he thought that the senior agent might have been interested in a little more than 'helping' her. The thought of that disturbed him a little. He didn't want anyone to be 'interested' in her. Of course, that thought quickly went away when he realized that Jackson was more like an older brother to her. Why she had wanted to work the BHK case never made sense to him. Her experience as a field agent was almost nil. Yet, Jackson insisted. She should have stayed with ICD. If she had, things would have worked out quite nicely. Hell no. She couldn't stay with ICD. She had to go off on a complicated field assignment that turned into a full-fledged slap-and-tickle fest with Frank Donovan. It was a bad thing. It was a very bad thing. He groaned aloud. I must stop this. I must get my shit together for the phone call. Another horrid thought struck him. What if she refused to see him? It was possible. Their past relationship hadn't been all peachy keen, at least on her end. She didn't quite understand, though, did she? He hadn't had much of an opportunity to test the waters. He disgusted her, and she preferred the company of that fucking SOU leader. Goddamn. Goddamn. Got to get this shit off my mind so I can finish the job. Finish the job. Finish the job. Yep, that's what I'll do…finish the job.
* * *
Loralei opened her eyes slowly. She thought she had felt Donovan's arms about her, but again, was certain she had been dreaming. Goody, I wasn't, she thought. She glanced briefly at the bedside clock. Ugh. Four-thirty. If Rachel decided not to be particularly active tonight, she would have trouble getting to sleep. For a few moments, she had completely forgotten her missed lunch date with Jackson. Her mind was still seized by sleep and exhaustion, and she couldn't focus on much of anything. Her husband's body against hers brought thoughts of Jackson back to the surface. She itched to wake him up and ask. As much as Donovan before her, she didn't have the heart. He was as exhausted as she, probably more so. She didn't immediately free herself of his embrace. She wasn't necessarily afraid to awaken him. It was more like not wanting to leave the comfort of his arms. However, she knew that fairly shortly, Rachel was sure to wake up and not so politely demand attention. Carefully, she drew away from him. He had a tight hold on her body, and it wasn't as easy as she expected. Goofy giggles attempted to bubble up in her throat. She finally wrenched her body free and slipped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her.
She crept into the baby's room and as she had suspected, Rachel was already awake. For now, she wasn't doing much other than making her cute little snuffling noises. She knew the baby would begin wailing indignantly, ready to inflict her discomfort on anyone close enough to listen. She whispered softly to the infant as she scooped her up into her arms. Her mother had warned her not to hold Rachel too much. You'll spoil her, Loralei, just wait and see, Geneva Kadin had said. Eh, shaddup, Mother. She didn't think a baby could he held and/or hugged enough. Since she had lost a baby, she intended to expend twice the love and attention on this one. She carried Rachel back into the bedroom where Donovan was still passed out. She climbed back onto the bed with Rachel in her arms. Gently, she lay the baby down between her and Donovan. He needed an up close and personal wakeup call. Rachel lay between her parents cooing and gurgling happily.
At the sound of his infant daughter, Donovan woke up a little. At first, he thought the noise was coming from the baby monitor almost against his head. When he looked across from him at Loralei, he noticed that she had brought the baby in with her. He leaned up a little and kissed Loralei's lips very gently. "I thought she sounded a little close," he said sleepily.
"Couldn't help bringing her in," she said with a smile. "I like having her close to me."
He kissed her again before he gently began caressing the top of the baby's head. She seemed to enjoy the gentle touch of her father's hand and she began to gurgle even more. "Me too."
Sighing heavily, her smile faded a little. "Did you find out anything?"
Although he knew it was a moot thought, he had hoped Bart Jackson would have slipped her mind. No such chance. Not with his wife. "I had Cody check it out, Loralei, but he didn't find any type of assignment for Jackson. In fact, he has been inactive for a few weeks."
"Inactive," she asked in confusion. "Isn't that just a nice way of saying he left?" Although Loralei had resigned right after she was released from the hospital, her own status was still 'inactive.' Hadn't Jackson spoken just the slightest bit wistfully when he had asked if she missed fieldwork? Hadn't she thought the sound of his voice odd?
"Either that or he was suspended. Maybe that's what he was trying to tell you," he said. "There was nothing else out there."
Loralei reached down and took Rachel's tiny hand into hers. She ran her thumb over her delicate little fingers. For a moment, she had to get her eyes off Donovan's face. She didn't want him to see the concern in her own. What the hell was going on with Jackson? It didn't matter that she had looked away. He knew what was going on inside her. It didn't take much to uncover her inner turmoil. He hadn't wanted to say anything, but he also hadn't wanted to break his promise to dig for information. If something had been out there, she would have surely uncovered it, and then been pissed at him for weeks. He knew she appreciated his overprotective behavior every once in a while, but she didn't tolerate it often. This wasn't the time or place. Donovan moved his hand from the baby's head and reached down to take her other tiny fist. Her skin was so smooth and perfect.
Without making direct eye contact with her husband, Loralei said, "I've been thinking about something, Frank." Once the words were out of her mouth, she looked up at him. He was studying her curiously, as if he knew what she was going to say. Damn him, she thought, he probably does. "Maybe I should give Director Casey a call. He might give me some information."
He gave her a startled expression, and she watched in disdain as his forehead crinkled up. Here it goes. "Director Casey? Isn't he the one who wanted to boot you over to another regional office? Do you think he would even speak to you?"
She shrugged nonchalantly. He had a point. Director Chance Casey didn't exactly like her. He tolerated her when she was still with the ICD, but after Jackson had pushed for her to go into the field, he had begun to literally hate her. She recalled the day she went to Casey to confess that she had been sleeping with Donovan from the very beginning of her 'assignment.' His face had gone an alarming scarlet color, and he had clenched his fists so tightly that his perfectly manicured nails dug bloody grooves in his hand. She knew he had been tempted to start calling her names, but he resisted. Instead, he demanded that she either transfer or resign. Your behavior and actions were completely and totally out of line, he had snarled. How will I ever trust you again? How will I ever know that you won't sleep with the next guy you work with? Can you tell me that? Can you make any guarantees? His words had been harsh and hurtful, so much more than if he had called her a nasty name. In fact, she would have preferred it. I won't continue it after this is over, she had promised. I'll take the transfer. I want the transfer. Of course, she had lied not only to Casey, but to herself as well. She had chosen to quit, and when she had actually taken steps to leave, Casey grew even angrier. Fuck you and fuck this. I wouldn't trade what I have with Frank for fifteen more years in the Bureau, she had said. She had meant it. She had never looked back.
"Loralei?"
Donovan's voice drew her out of her dream world. She met his gaze. "He might. He knew how close Jackson and I are. It won't bother me speaking to him. Our disagreement happened quite some time ago, and I'm not as easily intimidated by him as I was. I want to call him, I need answers, and I won't rest until I do it."
From the living room, the phone began to ring. Donovan reached over to the table on his side of the bed and picked up the extension. "Hello." A pause. "Who?" Another pause. "I see. Yes, she's here." He held his hand over the phone and looked at her with a puzzled expression. "You're not going to believe this," he said. "It's Director Casey." With her own puzzled expression, she took the phone. "Do you want privacy," he asked.
She shook her head. "No. Stay, please." She put the phone up to her ear, wondering if Casey had somehow read her mind. "Director Casey. How are you?"
How am I, he thought. How so very contrite of her. Bitch. "I'm fine, Kadin." He refused to think of her as 'Donovan.' "I'd like to set up a meeting with you in a few days. There is a matter I think we need to discuss."
She was close to asking if 'the matter' had anything to do with Jackson. She didn't want to 'meet' with Casey. The thought was quite distasteful. "Of course. Name the time and the place."
Her voice was tentative, but not quite meek. I must still disgust her, he thought. "Do you think your husband would mind if we met at UC headquarters? I think it would be the best place to meet. Our discussion doesn't need to fall upon the ears of the general public."
With a pang, she noticed that he had said the words 'your husband' as if he were spitting venom. Get over it, you fucker. He's my husband, and there's nothing you can say about it now. "I'm not sure," she said. "Hang on." She looked at Donovan. He was still studying her curiously, his forehead frozen in its annoyed furrow. "He wants to have a meeting with me, at the Nest," she whispered. He lifted his eyebrow and shrugged. "That should work out okay. We'll meet in two days around 2:00?"
How sweet. She had to ask her hubby for permission to meet. "Wonderful, Kadin. Thank you. I'll see you then." Without another word, he hung up in her ear.
Loralei hit the 'talk' button and handed the phone back to Donovan. He replaced it back onto the charger and fixed his eyes on her face again. "I'm almost positive that he wants to speak about Jackson, but he really didn't say. It was bizarre, Frank. He sounds like he's still pissed off about us. It was weird." She laughed bitterly. "What am I saying? This whole thing has been weird."
Donovan sighed deeply and chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. "At least he wanted to meet on fairly neutral ground, Loralei. What I don't understand is why he has a desire to speak with you? You don't have any more information than he does. Why would he bother calling you? I can understand you wanting to call, but not him."
She shrugged. "I don't know, Frank. Director Casey is a prick, he always was. I hope this meeting will answer a few of my questions."
He sighed again and opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it abruptly, only to open it again. "I know you're not going to like what I'm about to say," he began.
Right away, Loralei recognized the prefacing words. He normally said them before proceeding with something horridly sexist. He needed a bright yellow 'SOM' [Super Overprotective Man] on his chest. "You're probably right, I won't," she said softly. She couldn't exactly feel annoyed.
"I'm sorry, Loralei. I can't help it, and I'm not going to hold my tongue. I hope he can answer your questions so that you won't continue to obsess about this. You don't need the stress or the worry. I don't like what this has done to you in the past couple of days. I don't like it and I want it to stop."
Now she was annoyed. "I don't like it, either. You have your issues with him, Frank, and that's fine. The man is like my brother, you know this, I've said it repeatedly. I agree that I've been obsessing about this, but I can't help that. If I didn't feel that something was terribly wrong, I'd let it go. I can't, and I would think that at least you could understand."
The discord between her parents was upsetting Rachel. The tinny noises emitting from her throat were those that began right before her blatting cries started. Sensing this, Donovan picked her up and carried her back to her crib. After lingering long enough for a quick diaper change, he returned. Loralei was sitting cross-legged on the bed. He hadn't intended for this comfortable, loving, family moment to become a full-blown argument. Quietly, he approached the bed and sat down to face her.
"Loralei," he began, "I understand. I do. Right now, you're angry, and I have no intention of saying anything that might be misconstrued. I want to explain why I feel this way, why I've always felt this way where you're concerned. You have no idea what it's like for me to watch you suffer. You can't know what I felt the day I saw you die or the repercussions that followed before I knew you were alive. You can't know how much seeing you grieve killed me when we lost the first baby. You don't know, you couldn't know, just like I don't know what you feel when you see me hurt. We read each other well and can almost identify every emotion that exists between us, but we don't know it all. No one can. I think of that whenever there is some potential, however slight, that you'll be hurt again. Everything you experience, I experience. Everything, Loralei, every damn thing. I've known you long enough, loved you long enough, to confidently say that it's the same for you." When she didn't immediately say anything [she couldn't, he had effectively surprised her again], he took her hands in his. "Have this meeting, do what you must, just know that if my actions annoy you, I do it because I love you so damn much. Do you understand that?"
Mutely, she nodded. He had the ability to render her speechless, and he had done it again. He could read her, just as he could read him. At that moment, Donovan wasn't the only one who hoped that the meeting with Casey would put an end to her worry. However, some little tug, some little inherent nudge, told her that her worry was just beginning.