Natasha pulled the groceries out of her car and juggling her keys and her mail, walked up the front path to her house. Carefully opening the door and kicking it shut behind her, she slung her keys on the table and walked into the kitchen, placing the groceries on the center counter. Absently she pulled out the things that needed to go in the refrigerator and on her way there, activated her answerphone so she could listen to her messages.
Her best friend Karla had called to check she was ok. Natasha shook her head slowly. She called every year, like she was afraid her friend would fall apart on that one day. She started placing her shopping away when another message caught her attention.
"Natasha. It's Mrs Davis here. I just called for a chat. I'll call back later."
Natasha sighed. Paul's mother had been in constant contact with her since the divorce. She was grateful of course, she'd built up a strong friendship and bond with Paul's parents over the years. And it was nice to know that despite everything, they had no intentions of allowing that to end. As she closed the refrigerator door, a small piece of paper caught her attention. She moved the magnet which held it in place and looked at it. Paul's pager number. She clearly remembered him giving her this when he left. He'd emphasized that she could use it at any time, if she was in trouble and that he'd be there for her no matter what. His words had done nothing to calm the feeling she'd had then, that he'd got himself involved in something dangerous. But that was his career. He was an Air Force Officer and he was totally dedicated to his job. He knew the risks and he accepted them.
She sighed softly and replaced the number. Turning she looked around the house they'd once shared. At the time of the divorce she'd insisted that she buy the house from him, as she'd done a lot of work to it. Now as she looked around, she realized that although she'd redecorated it, it would always be *their* house. She would never be able to look at the kitchen table without seeing him sat there, as he always had in the mornings at the beginning of their marriage, reading the local paper and drinking his morning coffee.
"Four years..." She muttered to herself. "Four years and I still can't move on." She put away the rest of the groceries and walked into the lounge, slumping down onto the couch. "What are you doing Paul? What did you get tangled up in?"
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. She frowned looking at the clock and cautiously went to open the door, keeping the safety catch on. Two men in black suits stood on her porch.
"Natasha Davis?"
She winced softly at the use of her married name. "No. Natasha Taylor."
One of the men frowned. "You're not Major Paul Davis' wife?"
"No. Ex-wife. Is there something I can help you gentlemen with?"
"We were wondering if you could tell us where we might find him."
"Who Paul? I have no idea. We've been divorced for some years now."
"He's not working at the Pentagon anymore?"
Natasha sighed. "I really couldn't tell you. I suggest you contact them." She went to shut the door, but one of the men put his foot in the gap, preventing her. "Was there something else?"
One of the men leant forward. "Yes...actually there was. Don't for one minute think we don't know that you're hiding something. You can tell that ex-husband of yours that we'll be back...and we will find what we're looking for."
Natasha fixed a steady gaze on him. "I have no idea what you're talking about and as I'm not in contact with Major Davis anymore, I won't be able to pass on your message." She kicked the man's leg through the gap and slammed the door shut. Her hand reached for the phone and she pushed the button that she'd programmed Paul's pager number into. She watched the men walk down the path and get into their car, making themselves comfortable for a stakeout.
"Your message please?"
Natasha returned her attention to the phone. "We need to talk."
She replaced the phone and continued to watch the men from the hall.
"If ever I needed you Paul...now is the time." She turned her back on the front door and made her way upstairs to retrieve the handgun that he'd left in her possession. "Just in case."
Her best friend Karla had called to check she was ok. Natasha shook her head slowly. She called every year, like she was afraid her friend would fall apart on that one day. She started placing her shopping away when another message caught her attention.
"Natasha. It's Mrs Davis here. I just called for a chat. I'll call back later."
Natasha sighed. Paul's mother had been in constant contact with her since the divorce. She was grateful of course, she'd built up a strong friendship and bond with Paul's parents over the years. And it was nice to know that despite everything, they had no intentions of allowing that to end. As she closed the refrigerator door, a small piece of paper caught her attention. She moved the magnet which held it in place and looked at it. Paul's pager number. She clearly remembered him giving her this when he left. He'd emphasized that she could use it at any time, if she was in trouble and that he'd be there for her no matter what. His words had done nothing to calm the feeling she'd had then, that he'd got himself involved in something dangerous. But that was his career. He was an Air Force Officer and he was totally dedicated to his job. He knew the risks and he accepted them.
She sighed softly and replaced the number. Turning she looked around the house they'd once shared. At the time of the divorce she'd insisted that she buy the house from him, as she'd done a lot of work to it. Now as she looked around, she realized that although she'd redecorated it, it would always be *their* house. She would never be able to look at the kitchen table without seeing him sat there, as he always had in the mornings at the beginning of their marriage, reading the local paper and drinking his morning coffee.
"Four years..." She muttered to herself. "Four years and I still can't move on." She put away the rest of the groceries and walked into the lounge, slumping down onto the couch. "What are you doing Paul? What did you get tangled up in?"
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. She frowned looking at the clock and cautiously went to open the door, keeping the safety catch on. Two men in black suits stood on her porch.
"Natasha Davis?"
She winced softly at the use of her married name. "No. Natasha Taylor."
One of the men frowned. "You're not Major Paul Davis' wife?"
"No. Ex-wife. Is there something I can help you gentlemen with?"
"We were wondering if you could tell us where we might find him."
"Who Paul? I have no idea. We've been divorced for some years now."
"He's not working at the Pentagon anymore?"
Natasha sighed. "I really couldn't tell you. I suggest you contact them." She went to shut the door, but one of the men put his foot in the gap, preventing her. "Was there something else?"
One of the men leant forward. "Yes...actually there was. Don't for one minute think we don't know that you're hiding something. You can tell that ex-husband of yours that we'll be back...and we will find what we're looking for."
Natasha fixed a steady gaze on him. "I have no idea what you're talking about and as I'm not in contact with Major Davis anymore, I won't be able to pass on your message." She kicked the man's leg through the gap and slammed the door shut. Her hand reached for the phone and she pushed the button that she'd programmed Paul's pager number into. She watched the men walk down the path and get into their car, making themselves comfortable for a stakeout.
"Your message please?"
Natasha returned her attention to the phone. "We need to talk."
She replaced the phone and continued to watch the men from the hall.
"If ever I needed you Paul...now is the time." She turned her back on the front door and made her way upstairs to retrieve the handgun that he'd left in her possession. "Just in case."