HERE COMES TROUBLE
Donovan watched the clock carefully as Cody and Monica worked their magic. He would move heaven and earth to be out by six. He intended to meet his wife if he had to say 'fuck it,' and just walk out. He was ecstatic to learn that the case would center in Chicago. At least he wouldn't have to leave home again. The name Alca Huete disturbed him, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He knew that Farron had had dealings with the Colombians in the past, but he didn't know if Huete had been one of his gangs. He stood back and brought his hand up to his chin. According to Monica, Huete was a control freak and he had to have his thumb firmly down on his people, especially his women. Of course, that also included prostitutes. How could he use his ties to continually stuff cocaine up the noses of his women without ruining his profit margin? It didn't make sense…unless he still trafficked cocaine and had not been caught yet. Dozens of gangs had gone down with the Ortiz family; Farron had made sure of that. To return the favor, the DEA had put him to work as a professional informant, a trainer of sorts. Perhaps he would ask Farron about this man. He might give them a boost and enough help to crack the case in record time. Donovan liked opening them and closing them. No fuss. No muss. Of course, it was never really that easy. Nothing was ever that easy.
At a quarter to six, Donovan began shutting his side of the operation down. He intended to spend some serious quality time with his wife. As he darted out of the building, purposely turning off his hearing, he wasn't aware that someone was watching him.
His former lover and ex-fiancé had happened upon Donovan's place of work by sheer accident. She had known he was a FBI agent when she saw him last, but she wasn't aware that he had broken away from the fold of hostage negotiation and moved on to something else. A born leader, he had been courted to take over the SOU. She knew this, had known he would lead ever since she first met him. She tried extracting information from the main office at the FBI, but of course, no one would tell her anything. So, on the day she had tried to dig up Donovan's new location, she had taken a walk down the city street, blending in with the hundreds of other faces rushing about. She saw a tall man with dark hair, and that drew her attention. Any man who fit that description caught her attention because they always reminded her of Donovan. She looked at the man, thinking that it was yet another case of mistaken identity, only to find out a moment later that she had not been mistaken at all. She hadn't returned often, because she didn't want him to see her yet. When she first saw him, she was still battling her addiction and was a mess. She wanted to wait until she was back to her old self, back to her best. She wanted him to see her as she was the last time they were together. Tonight was as good a time as any. She glanced up from her vantage point and watched as he walked briskly down the street before rounding the corner. He seemed to be in quite the hurry. When he ducked into a small Chinese restaurant, she had been tempted to call out his name almost immediately, but some little twinge inside her forced her to back off. As she peered into the glass door, she watched as he approached a young woman with dark auburn hair. With all the ire of a scorned lover, she watched as he embraced the woman for a seeming eon before kissing her the same length of time. She understood. This woman must be his wife. Ennui would make her entrance, would show herself to him, to his wife.
* * *
The little restaurant had been packed to the rafters when Loralei came in, and she considered herself lucky to find a small table for two toward the back. It wasn't a very intimate setting, but she tried to finagle a table as far away from the other patrons as she could get. Loralei liked this place, felt connected to it. Here, she had met the man who became her husband and the father of her child [children…it's plural now]. Hell, she had probably fallen in love with him here as well. Now that she had his undying attention, she couldn't even open her mouth to discuss with him the changes that were about to occur. She immediately noticed that he was distracted a bit, as if he had something weighing heavily on his mind. She was about to open her mouth to speak when a server popped up out of nowhere to take their dinner orders. When Donovan ordered egg drop soup, the thought of that didn't sit well with her. If she didn't get her mind off it, she wouldn't have to tell her husband anything. She would puke on him, and he would know without a doubt. When the server asked about drinks, Donovan ordered wine, Loralei chose water. Her choice tweaked him a bit. It seemed a little odd. Normally, she would have had wine as well. He shrugged it off as reluctance due to her overindulgence over the weekend.
Donovan studied her a moment. She was pale and seemed tired. "Are you okay?"
Loralei looked up at Donovan. She hadn't been aware he was watching her. She smiled a little. "I'm fine."
He reached across the table and took her hand. "So, what's this thing we have to talk about?"
Oh for Pete's sake, spit it out. She sighed heavily. Why was she having such a hard time with this? Her husband loved her, loved their daughter, and he had said dozens of times that he wanted more children after Rachel. The little voice inside her head reminded her that Rachel was barely nine months old, and there would be roughly seventeen or eighteen months difference in age. She couldn't believe she had conceived again so quickly. She hadn't started back on the pill because it would take too long to wean off it. They had relied on alternatives, and apparently those were less than reliable. Both of them wanted another child, but hadn't they also discussed waiting for at least a year? Damn it. Don't be a dope, Alex's voice piped up. He will be thrilled. She could be coy, silly, evasive, or she could simply spit it out. I'm pregnant. What was less complicated than that?
"Loralei," Donovan prompted.
She hadn't realized she was daydreaming. "Sorry," she said with an embarrassed little smile. "I have a lot on my mind. We're going to-"
Loralei's voice died out totally as a tall model'esque woman with funky colored eyes placed her hand gently on Donovan's shoulder. A moment after she touched him, she said 'vigoureux.' What the fuck is vigoureux, Loralei thought. She watched as the look on Donovan's face changed from extreme interest in her to absolute shock and horror at their unwelcome visitor. Who was this woman? Who was she and why was she touching her husband? Calmly, without trying to cause a huge scene, Donovan reached up and grasped her fingers as if they were tainted by poison. The moment her hand was off his shoulder, he released her. He didn't want to touch her any longer than necessary. This cannot be happening, he thought. Tell me I didn't just hear what I thought I did. At that point, he hadn't bothered looking up at the face he had grown to loathe. Instead, he looked at his wife sitting across from him, seemingly apologizing for such an unexpected invasion of their evening. Loralei wondered if he would ever speak, if he would ever tell her who this woman was. Why was his expression the same disgusted pucker he had exhibited when Farron first came back into his life?
Ennui didn't seem affected one way or another by the way he removed her hand. In fact, she didn't miss a beat. She crossed her hands behind her back and didn't move a muscle. "It's been a long time, hasn't it? You look good," she said.
Without looking at her, he growled, "It hasn't been long enough to suit me. I would appreciate it if you'd get the hell away from me. Don't make me cause a scene."
"I won't, Vigoureux, but I may have some information you might find useful," she stated. She had yet to look at Donovan's wife, but out of the periphery of her eye, she saw the woman studying her curiously, as if asking 'who the fuck are you?' She almost smiled, but held back. Donovan would take more work than she thought.
Finally, he fixed his eyes on her face. He stared at her as if she were no more than a polluted cesspool. "I don't want anything you have. Do you understand? Nothing. I want you to leave. I don't want to continue poisoning my eyes by setting them upon your face."
She nodded complacently. She would play the game as long as it took. She was convinced he still wanted her. His hostility was a sure sign. "Okay, I'll take my leave, but I will be in touch."
A bitter smile touched his lips. It was unlike anything Loralei had ever seen. It was glittering and evil. The light in his eyes had died completely and the color had gone from dark brown to black. He was literally shaking with rage. "Don't bother," he said. "You have nothing I want," he repeated. "You make me sick."
Shocked, Loralei watched as the woman smiled down at Donovan almost sweetly. His rage didn't seem to hurt her one iota. She turned away and walked toward the door. Loralei quickly focused her eyes back on her husband's face. He was slowly containing his rage, getting it under control. He shook his head as if pondering one of life's great mysteries. Actually, he was. He wanted to laugh, but thought if he did, his wife would think he had lost his mind.
"Stupid, stupid bitch," he said. Hadn't that thought crossed his mind today already?
When he finally fixed his eyes on her face, they had changed again. They were back to their normal, warm hue. She wondered if he thought she was going to let this incident slide without comment. She couldn't. "Who was she? Why was she calling you that funky name? Frank, I want to know. I've never seen you like this. Goddamn it, talk to me."
He took her hand in his again. "Not here, not around all these people. Let's pick up the baby and go home."
* * *
Loralei stood in the darkened hallway and watched as Donovan gently put their daughter down for the night [or for however long it took before she threw a fit]. As she beheld his tenderness, the gentle way he tended to his daughter, she couldn't reconcile in her mind that this was the same man who had sat before her earlier. At that point, he had been so upset that he could have chewed nails. She sensed that he really didn't want to talk about the woman who had upset him so, but she didn't care. She wanted to talk about it. She wanted to know. He came out of the baby's room and immediately saw her standing near their bedroom door. He owed her an explanation, he had no trouble recognizing that, but he didn't really want to think about her ever again. Not only that, but this common piece of trash was a hideous ghost of his past, and he had no desire to revisit her. In fact, she hadn't haunted him in years. He had hardly thought of her at all, and when he met and fell in love with Loralei, he had forgotten she existed. After all, the woman he stood gazing at was the one, the only one he would sacrifice anything [including his life] for; she was the only woman who mattered to him right now. He hadn't given a second thought about what she had tried to tell him tonight. Again, he was thoroughly distracted by the visit of the hideous monster from hell, the stupid bitch who thought she had a nodding chance of getting back in his good graces.
She had known him long enough to recognize his 'I'd rather not talk about it' expression. A moment ago, she had been hell-bent to discover the identity of the woman. However, she was also upset. Their calm evening had been ruined, and he still didn't know [or have a clue] that she was going to have another baby. Instead of getting in his face and demanding answers, as was her custom, she turned toward the bedroom door, opened it, and slipped inside the room. Sighing, he followed her. Good going, he thought. She had read his expression well, she was so good at that, and he kicked himself a little. He had hurt her again. He simply didn't care enough about Ennui to even talk about her, or the idiotic letter she had sent him.
Donovan laid his hand on the light switch. "Do you mind if I turn on the light?"
"Nope," she said. "Do what you want, I'm just changing."
He flicked on the light switch and watched in amusement as she furiously worked on a knot she had made in her shoestring. If she had been in a better mode, he might have laughed. However, if he did that, she would probably kick his ass. She had just enough red in her hair to be a trumped up spitfire when pushed. She cried out in aggravated disgust [grrr] when she couldn't loosen the knot. Giving up, she kicked off the shoes and chunked them under the bed. She started to undress, but changed her mind. Confused, he watched as she lay back on the bed and began to stare at the ceiling.
"Even after living with you for a few years, you can still confuse me," he said suddenly, a hint of a grin touching his lips.
She didn't glance at him when she said, "It's from hunger. If you didn't notice, we didn't exactly get to eat. I'm all weak and shit." She sighed. "So, what brought about the sudden change in mood? Have you ever been tested for manic-depression?"
What she had really meant was 'Let's talk about this before I punch you out.' Donovan shook his head incredulously. "Loralei, I'd rather not think about her again," he began as if he had read her mind [and he probably had]. "She is nothing to me, and I don't see how discussing her will do any good."
Never taking her eyes off the ceiling, she said, "She touched you, Frank. She touched you as if she knew you like I do. She called you something which I'm sure was a pet name. Women who have never slept with a man don't give them pet names like that. What does it mean, anyway? Vigorous?"
He went to her side of the bed and tapped her leg, indicating that she should move them. After a stubborn moment of hesitation, she lifted her legs just long enough to allow him to sit down before she plopped them across his. "Loralei, it's not that I'm trying to hide anything by not telling you, I just don't consider her important enough to mention. The role she played in my life was insignificant, no more than cobwebs hanging from the corner of the room. Her name is Ennui Principio, and I met her when I was still a hostage negotiator. We were together for a brief time, and it became a bit serious, but I wasn't what she wanted. What drew the anger out of me tonight was that she wrote me a letter, thinking that she would have another chance. She mistakenly thought I'd still be at her beck and call, that I'd be the same man she left behind. She means no more to me than any other woman I was with before I met you."
She remained silent for a long time, allowing his words to sink in her brain. This woman, this Ennui, was gorgeous. She could have been a model with her perfect looks and tall, lean body. She had predatory eyes, and she fucking touched her husband. Out of everything, that thought pissed her off the most. She wasn't typically a jealous woman. Hell, she couldn't blame other women who gave her husband appreciative glances as they walked by. She was married to him for God's sake, and she still lusted over him as if he were an unobtainable fantasy man. She didn't understand how Donovan had made light of this woman's influence in his life. She had seen him, had seen the sheer rage in his eyes and body language. Something about her must have touched him.
"Frank, why did she leave you," she asked suddenly.
He shook his head. "Baby, it's not important."
She took his attitude as one of avoidance and she wanted to say something, but she bit the words back. The entire length of their relationship, neither of them had even looked at other people. Why, all of a sudden, was she so insecure? This was a new feeling for her, and she didn't like it. She supposed it had a lot to do with being pregnant and awkward. Who would blame him if his eyes wondered when her body was heavy with child? Of course, she had a long way to go before that happened, but still it sank deeply within her mind and held on for dear life. Along with that, she thought that this woman meant more to him than he let on. Horribly enough, she couldn't stop thinking that he might, just might, want to have an affair with her. Don't be ridiculous, she thought. He loves you. She wanted to voice her fears, but he would only tell her she was crazy, and perhaps she was. When she was pregnant with Rachel, she had been fairly loony, hadn't she? It would probably be no different with this baby. Once again, she found herself wanting to blurt it out, but she held back. The hag with claws for fingernails had ruined the moment.
* * *
Still smarting over the scene with Kara, Farron wasn't quite at his best. He had hidden in his apartment with his beloved scotch. For hours after Enni left him, he drank until he passed out, and then he showered to get the stink of her off his body. He finally felt a bit normal right now, but he was still down. He looked up with a frown when his doorbell rang. He was certain it was Enni again. He was tempted to grab the empty scotch bottle on the counter and brain her with it. Instead, he stalked to the door and threw it open. Intent on shouting at her until he couldn't speak, he stood back in shock as he saw that his guests were Loralei and Rachel.
"Loralei? What are you doing here?"
"I need your help," she said.
He groaned inwardly at the sick ironies of life. Hadn't Enni spoken the very same words to him? Without speaking, he stepped back so she could enter. Farron smiled a little when he noticed Rachel goggling at him owlishly. The man looked like Daddy, but wasn't Daddy. He watched as Loralei sat on the edge of the couch and placed Rachel onto her lap. He sat across from her and waited expectantly for her to speak.
Without pussy footing around, she spat, "What do you know about a woman named Ennui Principio?"
"She came to you," Farron asked cautiously.
She nodded. "Yes, last night while Frank and I were trying to talk. She went to him, and he could have killed her with his eyes. Who is she, Farron? Do you know her? What happened with her and Frank?"
How many times am I going to have to relive every betrayal of my brother? "We called her Enni, it was something that Frank pinned on her when they were together. From what I understand, she was a nurse here in Chicago and was working the night Frank came in with a bullet wound. After his release, they began dating, then she moved in with him, and later, they became engaged."
Startled, Loralei gawped at her brother in-law. "Engaged? He was going to marry her? He blew her off as if she were nothing more than a run-of-the-mill girlfriend." Her worries and insecurities suddenly went up an octave.
He nodded. "Yes, Loralei, they were engaged. He brought her home and proposed to her there. At the time, I was Mateo full swing, and I came home for a breather from the life. To put it gently, I seduced her, and Frank caught us…should I say…in the middle of the act. He immediately left and never saw her again. She followed me to Colombia and became addicted to cocaine. She then began prostituting herself to the men in my gang for her drug. When I parted ways with the familia, she stayed behind working for her addiction."
She sighed heavily. Her brother in-law's past was a colorful as Donovan's, just on a much sleazier scale. Without realizing she was doing it, she tightened her hold on her daughter's body. "Did you know she's back?"
He nodded thoughtfully. "Oh yes. She came to me asking for help. The gang has spread out to Chicago, and she fears for her life. She came to me, but she wants Frank. She made that very obvious."
Batting aside Farron's betrayal for a moment, there was a question she dreaded asking, but she needed an answer. "Farron, how did Frank feel about her before he left her?"
"Loralei, you have nothing to fear. Whatever he felt then died the moment he saw us together. If they had married, I'm almost certain it would have ended in divorce. If she gave in to my seduction, she would have given in to another's. It simply wasn't meant to be."
She wasn't convinced. She wasn't convinced at all.