Chapter 11: One More Day
Leland Home, Washington DC
Monday, 14 June
6:30 am
He couldn't shake the feeling; as hard as he'd tried, there was a foreboding growing in his gut that wouldn't go away. One more day, he thought as he stirred cream into his coffee. Eleven and a half hours, and he won't be able to touch her. There had already been many, many fervent prayers from his lips that it would be enough.
He heard soft footsteps coming down the stairs, and turned to watch her. She caught his smile and her cheeks colored. "Good morning," she said softly. "I would ask what you were thinking, but from the look on your face, I think I'll just leave it to my imagination."
Myles drew her into his arms and kissed her intensely, trying desperately to ignore the mantra in his soul that kept whispering the need to cherish every second right now.
When he finally let her go, Elizabeth looked at him with concern. "What was that for? You were kissing me as if it were the last time or something." The look that flared in his eyes made her regret saying it. She pulled him over to one of the kitchen stools and sat him down, stepping close to him and putting her arms around his neck. "Myles, it will be all right. My last appointment is at 3, I have a little bit of paperwork to do, and then we can go. Just hide away until Graham gets careless and they catch him."
He closed his eyes briefly. "I'm sorry; I just can't shake this feeling…" He held her tightly, feeling her heart beating against his own. "I don't want to lose you."
Elizabeth pulled back from him just slightly, stroking his cheek. 'Hey, what happened to all that anger from last night? All that 'active case or not, I'm not going to let it happen'?"
"I don't know," he said softly, "All I know is, after that phone call last night…"
She nodded. "You know, I got thinking about that. Particularly, the timing."
His eyes snapped open. "What do you mean?" Then he thought for a moment. "He called just after we walked upstairs…"
As his eyes widened, she nodded again. "We were just going to get changed, but if he was watching us all evening… He thinks he interrupted something, Myles. He thinks he has another angle to use against us, but he doesn't."
"I know, but—"
"Love, we will be fine. Even if Graham does grab me, the team can track where I am. He's not planning to kill me quickly; there will be time."
"It's what he can do to you in that space of time that worries me."
Now a shadow of fear crept into her eyes. "Myles…"
"No," he replied gently, deliberately shutting off the fear. "I refuse to dwell on 'what if.' They will find him, we will be fine today, and I will still have a chance to set up another evening of your dreams." He gave her a tender look. "And sorry, I already checked. The Hope Diamond isn't for sale."
She laughed. "It was worth a shot. Seriously, love— just so you know, I've never really been one for 'rocks;' simple and classic is more my style."
"I shall take that into consideration. Now, do you want to go throw something at Bobby, or should I? We're going to be late."
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Bullpen, Hoover Building
2:30 pm
A new week had brought no new information. It was as if Evan Graham had dropped off the face of the earth. The team had taken a break for a late lunch at two. Myles, buried in EPA reports from the other case, joined them when Tara poked her head in and invited him. He hadn't had much appetite, and he was the first to head back upstairs. Stopping in the Bullpen on his way back to the conference room, he now leaned against Tara's desk, staring hard at the photo on the board, trying to get into Graham's head. He'd managed to turn this morning's fear back into anger at the intrusion into their lives, and now it was his strength. Less than three hours now…
A hand on his arm brought him out of his thoughts, and he looked down into Sue's face as she stood in front of him. "You okay?" she asked.
His head bobbed once; then he glanced back up at the sketch, his eyes cold and his voice low. "I'll be okay when this monster's behind bars."
She nodded in understanding as the rest of the team filed in. Lucy walked over to them.
"This just arrived for you downstairs, hand-delivered." She placed a small box in Myles' hands.
"Hand-delivered?" he asked. "By whom?"
Lucy shrugged. "They said he gave his name as Matt Freeland. Isn't he one of your snitches?"
"Yeah." He looked at the box. "Hey, wait — this label is from Elizabeth's clinic. She doesn't know Matt." The uneasy feeling was worming its way through his gut again. He sat down at his desk and slit the tape on the box with a letter opener.
Inside was a bundle of black fabric, with a simple typewritten note nestled in the folds: "Thank you for last night," it read.
Bobby raised an eyebrow as Myles lifted out a silk nightgown, short and spaghetti-strapped. "I always knew there was a reason I should have learned to tango," he said softly, with a smirk. "Caught a bit of the intro last night – never knew you could dance like that."
"It can be an intense experience, yes." The blond agent absently acknowledged the quip, but Bobby had never seen him more deadly serious. "But nothing happened last night."
"Nothing? Then why were you two back in casual clothes by the time you broke down the study door?"
"Well, nothing like this." The knot in Myles' gut was tightening further. He looked up at the Aussie, his eyes betraying a combination of hatred for Graham, and fear for what this package could mean. "We didn't…I mean…"
"Gotcha, mate." Bobby spared him any further hesitation. He turned and motioned to the rest of the team. "Guys?" The rest of the team gathered around, and Bobby recapped quickly while Myles tried to get his temper under control.
Finally, the blond agent looked up. "This can't be from Elizabeth."
"So who…?" Jack trailed off as Myles laid the silk aside and pulled an envelope out of the bottom of the box. He first removed a photograph and flung it on the desk; several breaths were drawn in simultaneously as it came to a rest. The photo was of Myles and Elizabeth, in the rather passionate embrace they had shared the night before. It had been taken from outside.
"That was taken last night. Guess that confirms he was watching us." It didn't seem that the baritone voice could go much lower. Myles pulled a piece of paper out of the envelope and flipped it open, his other hand reaching for his cell phone. He read it once, then his eyes closed as he hit the speed dial and brought the phone to his ear. Jack reached over and retrieved the note from the taller agent's now-shaking hand. He opened it and read it aloud.
"'I do hope you enjoyed her, Agent Leland. It was the last time. I must admit, she is lovely. I look forward to sampling her myself before I kill her.'" Jack looked up. "Bobby, call her office now." The Aussie was already on the phone.
"No answer on her cell." The shaking had spread to his voice. "Evan Graham had best hope one of you finds him before I do."
"Got her, mate." The three words out of Bobby's mouth were like music. "Liz, clear out your patients — we're coming to pick you up right now." He listened for a moment…and the color drained from his face.
In a single fluid motion, the Aussie dropped the phone, grabbed his coat and ran for the door. Jack and Dimitrius followed without question, but Jack paused in the doorway.
"Myles. Come on."
The blond agent looked up in surprise. "I can't"
"I know," was the sober reply. "But I want you where I can see you."
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"Sure, Bobby. I'm surprised Amy didn't pick up the call— she must have her hands full. I only have one patient left today anyway. It's a first-time consult, so I should be done by the time you get here." She glanced over her shoulder as a man walked into her office. "Have a seat, Mr. Evans. I'll be right with you." Turning back to the phone, she continued, "Is there a problem?"
The sensation of cold steel against her neck stopped her short, and the sound of a hammerlock being pulled back froze her heart. A hand reached over her shoulder for the phone, and a quiet voice said, "No problem at all, Dr. Dillingham."