DISTRACTIONS AND DETOURS
Pax awoke and noticed that Donovan was not in bed beside her. Actually, he had gotten out of bed hours ago. He had spent several hours tossing and turning before finally giving up and crawling out of bed. She spied her robe at the foot of the bed and snagged it. She stood up and slipped into it, tying it tightly about her waist. From down the hall, she thought she heard Stasia's voice. Pax stepped out of the bedroom and padded down to the little girl's bedroom. She stopped just outside the door. Donovan's back was to her and she saw that he was holding his little girl in his lap. She could hear the low tones of his voice and it appeared as if he were reading her a story. Stasia was responding to him by slapping the pages or asking her father one of her favorite questions: Wot dat Daddy? It was one of the most bittersweet moments of her life. Jonella Paxton wasn't an emotional woman, but that sight alone had the ability to make her want to squall like a baby. Pax was about to make her way out of the room before she choked on her tears, but Stasia noticed Pax's tall frame and gave another familiar cry: Donnie! At that, Donovan turned around and glanced at Pax, a sad little smile on his face. Pax wanted to do a fade and give Donovan some time alone with his daughter. The next few days were going to be hell and Stasia would never fully understand. However, when she moved, Stasia called out to her again.
"Donnie read to Bondie," Stasia asked.
Pax nodded. "Sure, kiddo." She stepped into the bedroom and folded her lanky body into a sitting position on the floor. Stasia immediately demanded to be released and Donovan helped her to her feet. Without hesitation, she went over to Pax and unceremoniously flopped down onto her lap. "Where's your book, Blondie? Did Daddy keep it?"
The little girl looked over at her father. "You got book?"
Keeping his sad smile, he handed the book to Pax and watched in silence as she began reading to the little girl. He wasn't sure if Remy's family had been notified of her death, but he knew that he would be contacted as soon as they heard. They had no true interest in him anymore, of course. Their interest would be focused on Stasia. He couldn't blame them. She was their grandchild and niece. Donovan expected a huge fight to ensue in the coming days. They would want Stasia at the funeral and he didn't know how he felt about that. Seeing those she loved grieving would only serve to distress her. He had been right around nine or ten when he went to his first funeral and it had virtually scarred him for life. He didn't want to put his child through that horror. Once again, he focused his eyes on Pax and Stasia. His daughter was completely into the story, fascinated by the way Pax was acting it out for her. Although Donovan's eyes were focused on the two most important women in his life, he was almost staring through them.
It was a hot day. Duh. It was always hot around the jungle. Some time had passed since the nose breaking incident and Donovan's relationship with his partner hadn't improved much. The fights and pranks were childish and seemingly endless. During a meeting with their superiors, Donovan had literally ranked out Pax. It was tasteless and unnecessary, but he was sick of her attitude. He didn't understand her or her motivation for doing some of the things she did. He tried to speak to her civilly on various occasions, but she made it clear that she was having none of that. He pretended that her isolation didn't bother him, but it did. Being in this godforsaken jungle was taking its toll on him and he needed to talk to someone, even if it was this psycho bitch from hell. Pax made it clear that she didn't need anyone. When he tried to go to sleep that night, he wondered what had started this particular round of fighting. Oh yes. He remembered now. They were close to breaking up some seriously screwed up arms deal. Donovan watched as Pax tripped out the moment she laid eyes on the leader of the group. What was his name? Keith. Keith Ahiga. She had wanted to storm through the big middle of the meeting, but he had held her back. Pax was so angry that she wanted to shoot him where he stood. As if he were some type of overgrown tattletale, he took her to headquarters and severely chewed her ass. He hoped that Pax would at least explain why she carried such fierce hatred for Ahiga. However, Pax had shut herself off and refused to speak.
After receiving another ass chewing from the boss, Pax went back to camp. Donovan had yet to arrive. It was time to fix him up good. She seriously thought of trapping an anaconda and letting it loose in his tent, but she actually didn't want to kill the bastard. She wanted to get him back. The sick fuck wouldn't be her partner for long, because she was attracted to another branch of the agency, but she was stuck with him for however long it took to make the change. Due to the horrid facilities, most of their toiletries had to be concentrated and compact. They had to use some type of weird toothpaste that was in a compact closely resembling a Sucrets box. She took one of her empty containers and filled it with shaving cream. After that task was accomplished, she snuck into Donovan's tent and switched out the little cases. Tonight when the witless fuck brushed his teeth, he would shave them at the same time. Nonchalantly, she went back to her own tent and began to peel away the soaked BDUs. While waiting for her partner to return, she sipped steadily at her silver vial of vodka. If she didn't get out of here soon, she would lose her mind.
Spankie had tried everything humanly possible to dig into her mind. He wanted to know what her connection to Ahiga was, but she wasn't about to tell him. It was none of his fucking business. She hadn't told anyone she liked. Why would she bother with someone she hated? Well…she didn't actually hate Spankie, but she had 'issues' with him. Outside his build [Spankie was a skinny little twerp], age, and demeanor, he reminded her a little of Ahiga. She had been in love with Ahiga, had bore him a son that he allowed to die, and the last thing she needed in her work was a daily reminder of the son-of-a-bitch. Yet, Spankie wasn't truly like Ahiga at all. He was more…what were the words…loyal and honest. Ugh. Why was she thinking like this? It made no fucking sense. She didn't want to open herself up to another horrendous affair. Donovan wasn't half bad in a yucky sort of way, but the thought of his touching her turned her stomach [or did it]. God…get the fuck out of my head, Spankie. She belittled him because…no…uh God, don't think it, don't even say it. La la la la la. I can't hear you. Smoke screen, smoke screen so the truth cannot be seen. Ah…much better. The little voice was gone now. Pax settled back and heaved a sigh of relief. If she could just keep this up for a few more weeks, she would be just fine.
"PAX," came Donovan's indignant roar.
Ooops. He must have found the toothpaste. Nonchalantly, she crawled out of her tent and smiled a little when she noticed Donovan. He stood bent over, spitting the shit out of his mouth. The entire time, he was cursing her, swearing he would kill her. Pax tried not to laugh, but she couldn't help it. She had never seen Spankie…spit. It didn't seem like something he would do. He was entirely too prissy for that. Once Donovan spat out the horrid taste of shaving cream from his mouth, he looked up at his evil partner. She was laughing behind her hand, not trying very hard to hide it. He was livid and ready to murder her. Oh yes. This time he would surely shoot her dead. No more idle threats.
Donovan stalked toward her and took hold of her forearms. He squeezed them none too gently. He glared down at her, utilizing his cold eyes for everything they were worth. "Agent Paxton, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" She continued to laugh like a loon, so he shook her. "Tell me goddamn it."
Her laughter quickly died. His tone was sincerely beginning to piss her right the fuck off. "I might stop acting like an idiot if you'll stop acting like you're my goddamn father. You don't have that many fucking years on me, Spankie, and I think I've done more fieldwork than you have in your entire career. You're only lead agent because you have a dick. You're nothing special. You have no more going for you than I do. If you weren't some fucking poster boy, I would have status over you, Spankie. Tons of it. The CIA brethren frown upon certain behavior and I got assigned this shit job because of it. I'll be out of your hair before you know it. That day won't come soon enough, I assure you."
For all her salt and vinegar, he could sense a great vulnerability within her cold heart. Something or someone had royally screwed her over. "If you'll just fucking act like a human being, I'll stop this shit. But you won't. I've given you thousands of chances to redeem yourself, but you keep shitting on me. I won't have it, because unlike you, I want to go home alive."
"Let me go, you ass. I don't want to spend another moment looking at your ugly face. If I want to be this close to a witless fuck, I'll go to Bogotá and pick up a fucking gigolo. I'm sure they have more between their legs than two raisins and a kick stand."
Pax had opened her mouth to say more, but a wicked urge struck him, one he would never understand as long as he lived. He wanted to kill her, but he couldn't. However, he could easily make her shut up. He mashed his mouth down on hers, forcing her lips apart with his tongue. She tried to get away from him, but his grip was vise-like. The more she moved, the tighter his hold became. She was certain that her forearms would be sore and bruised by morning. He wasn't about to give up, but she was too damn stubborn to submit completely. It wasn't that he wanted her, because she was sure he didn't. He simply wanted to control her and forcing a kiss upon her was his way. It was an odd way. If she weren't afraid of swallowing it, she would bite off his fucking probing tongue. As abruptly as the kiss began, it ended. He released his iron grip and she nearly fell on her ass. Without a word, he ducked down into his tent and disappeared from view. She ran her finger along the bottom of her lip. The bastard tasted like shaving cream. She was shaken up, shaken to the tips of her toes. It had been like that every day she was near him.
It had been like that every day she was near him. Pax glanced up at Donovan and noticed that his eyes were on her and his daughter, but he wasn't seeing them. Since they had been together and had gotten serious, she wondered if he ever thought about the past. She had been brooding about that a lot lately and it had grown in intensity after Remy's wedding. She drew in an inward groan when she thought of Remy. It depressed her immensely because of the child she held in her lap. She hadn't spoken to Donovan about it since the phone call early this morning, but she ached to do so. However, she didn't think it was her place. She was with Donovan, that was true, but she wasn't a part of that particular familial branch. In fact, she was sure they definitely wouldn't welcome her. By the time the story was finished, Stasia was nodding off a little and Pax gently laid down her storybook.
"Frank," she called tentatively. When he didn't acknowledge her, she called out again, "Frankie?"
Donovan came out of his dream world and finally saw her. "Sorry, Jonella. I suppose I was drifting a bit. There are a few things I need to take care of at the nest, but I don't intend to stay there very long. I'm afraid everything will be upside down for the next couple of weeks. Would you mind staying with Stasia for a couple of hours?"
"No," she said. "It's okay. Do what you have to do."
* * *
Alayna stood in the middle of the warehouse looking building the other agents called a 'nest.' She had no idea why they called it that, but she didn't exactly understand the mentality of federal agents anyway. She patiently waited for Frank Donovan at the conference table. She drank a shitty tasting cup of coffee and stared down at the marred surface of the table. Alayna didn't like walking into a situation without knowing her game plan. She wanted to come right out and accuse Donovan right to his face, but then she would risk alienating the man. Perhaps it would be best for her to string him along a little until he gave her the information she needed. He might even walk right into her trap. Most of the scum she caught wound up doing just that. It didn't matter that he was a federal agent. Ignorance came in all flavors.
When Donovan entered the nest, Cody didn't quite have time to tell him about the woman awaiting him at the conference table. He spotted her long before the other man opened his mouth. Something about her seemed familiar, but he didn't immediately get it. The woman spied him and stood. He watched as she slowly approached. She was fairly tall, probably five nine or ten, and quite voluptuous. Her shoulder length hair was flame red and cut in chunky layers. Her eyes were a bright emerald green. Like many redheads, her complexion was peachy and smattered here and there with freckles. The look on her face was shrewd and serious. Donovan scoured the recesses of his mind. He thought he should know this woman. After a long thoughtful moment, he had it. She was some relative of Remy's. She had actually been in the wedding when he married Remy, and if he wasn't badly mistaken, she had also been in Remy's most recent wedding. What the hell was she doing here? Surely she couldn't be the lieutenant detective scheduled to meet with him? Didn't her involvement constitute a conflict of interest?
She stuck her hand out, and by reflex, Donovan took it into his. She dropped his after a few seconds. "Long time no see, Agent Donovan," she commented. "I'm Detective Norwood. I was the one you spoke with on the phone last night. Could we possibly go to a more private location so we can talk?"
Donovan said nothing. He simply moved toward the short flight of stairs that would lead to his office. She mutely followed him in the same direction. She didn't know much about Frank Donovan, but the man she saw today was quite different than the one she had seen at his wedding. Different situations. Different men. Very interesting indeed. As soon as Donovan entered his office, he took a seat at his desk and Alayna chose a chair at the side. She'd be damned if she was going to sit on the other side of him as if she were a naughty child caught cheating on the big test. He didn't seem perturbed by her behavior, but he was a hard one to shake. She was up to the challenge.
"Why did you want to see me," Donovan began. "If you are who I think you are, I'm sure you're aware that Remy and I divorced over a year ago."
She smiled inwardly. She was playing ball on his court and he wanted to dominate the game. That's fine. Very soon, I'll have you right where I want you. "Ah, you remember," she said. "Yes, I was at yours and Remy's wedding. I was also at hers to Darryl Hilton five months ago. I know we're not supposed to release much about the murders in a case such as this, but since you're kind of a cop yourself, I think I can trust you." Like hell. "The murders were particularly…brutal. Hilton's head was blown to pieces and Remy was nearly decapitated." The cold bastard didn't flinch. "Doesn't that upset you in the least? After all, we're talking about a woman you were with for quite some time. A woman who gave birth to your child." She had gotten a bit carried away, but his reaction pissed her off.
"What is your point, Detective Norwood," he asked coldly. "You seem to be waiting for me to fall apart or break down. Does it disappoint you that I'm calm? It's not that I don't care or that it doesn't bother me, but right now, I'm focused on my daughter and what this will do to her. Correct me if I'm wrong, but it seems as if you're accusing me."
Alayna smiled a little. Reverse psychology. She had been warned Donovan was manipulative. Somehow, she would have to get her hands on his records. "I think you're jumping the gun on me, Agent Donovan. I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm simply trying to find out who murdered the Hiltons in their home. Seems that it was someone close to the family. Perhaps it was someone who knew them well enough not to arouse suspicion. It appears that Remy just let the guy right on in the home. Ballistics hasn't come back yet, but I bet that the gun responsible for ripping Darryl's head to shreds is one of those fancy semi-automatics that you're strapped with." She sighed heavily. "Not that this is leading anywhere or anything, but when was the last time you actually saw Remy?"
Donovan bore his eyes into her. He took an immediate dislike to this redheaded demon before him. "I truly don't care for the implications you're making in your sugar-coated words, Detective, but I will answer your question. The last time I saw Remy was approximately three weeks ago when I picked up my daughter. At that time, there were no more than a dozen words exchanged between us. We led separate lives and there was no need for anything more than that."
She nodded as if she understood but didn't believe him anyway. "Okay." She stood abruptly and began digging something out of her back pocket. She threw a business card onto his desk. "You can reach me at those numbers on the card. I'm sure we'll be in touch. Sorry for your loss. Good day, Agent Donovan."
* * *
"What's eating your ass?"
Donovan smiled across the table at Pax. They had ordered out for Chinese food, which he loved, but he was barely picking at his. They had put Stasia to bed about an hour ago. He realized that he hadn't exactly told her about his encounter with the lovely Detective Norwood. "Nothing, really. A lieutenant detective with the Chicago police thinks I murdered my ex-wife and her husband."
"Are you shitting me," she asked.
He shook his head. "Nope, but I wish I were. She is related to Remy in some way or another, I don't remember. She was at mine and Remy's wedding and the one to Hilton five months ago."
Pax fixed him with a quirky stare. He had seen it before. Ass whipping time. "Okay. Where is this bitch? Lemme at her and I'll fucking kick her ass."
Donovan laughed. "I appreciate your support, but she's not worth it. I'm sure that whatever curiosity stirred her to visit me has been quashed by now."
She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm serious, Frank. Let her do that while I'm around and she'll be missing a dozen or so of her teeth. What the hell would make her think you would do something like that? She's insane, and believe me, I know insanity."
He waved it off. "It's not important, Jonella."
"I told you once that I was a possessive bitch and I am," she said. "However, I don't think I ever let you know that I can be a bit on the protective side as well. If someone is fucking with you, they're fucking with me. It's just like that." With that said, she picked up her plate and carried it over to the sink.
Donovan pushed back from the table and approached her from behind before she could move away. He pressed his body against hers. "I know it is," he said, his voice falling in her ear. "And I love you for it. I'm the same. But again, it isn't important. It's a dumb game cops play. I've seen it done thousands of times, as I'm sure you have as well."
"That's all well and good, Frank, but I swear I'll pummel the bitch if she ever utters a negative word to or about you in my presence. I just want you to understand that."
"I do," he said. He moved back just a little and took hold of her forearm. Tugging gently, he said, "Come on. That can wait until tomorrow. Let's go to bed."
She smiled. "You won't have to ask me twice."
As he led her to their bedroom, Pax wondered just how much Donovan's behavior was real and how much was just for her benefit.
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To be continued…