I Will Remember You

See Prologue for Disclaimer

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Monday March 24, 1986

Evening . . .

Lee hiked up his jeans, snapping and zipping in record time. As he threw on his sweater, he cursed the incompetence of the recent graduating class at the Agency. Agent Brawer was supposed to be at the top of his class. If he couldn't keep an eye on a mother of two in the suburbs, there was no hope for him. Ha! He couldn't track a cat in a dog kennel. Reaching down to tie his shoes, he let out a growl. He was getting mad at the wrong person. Where the hell did she think she was going anyway? She knew the Agency was watching the house. He rubbed his temples. This was just like her to make a bad situation worse. Now, he was going to have to go find her.

He swung the front door open and found her, hand poised to knock. "A-man-da! There you are!" He yanked her into his apartment and slammed the door shut. "Where have you been?"

"They called me at home, Lee."

"What do you mean they called you? How? When?" He sounded like her now. Agent Brawer hadn't mentioned any of this when he called. No, the idiot was too busy searching for excuses as to why he'd lost track of her. The agency was supposed to be protecting her. He couldn't even trust them to do that. He couldn't protect her himself, but he couldn't trust anyone else to do it either.

"Lee?"

She was staring at him expectantly. "I'm sorry. What did you say?" He motioned for her to sit as she handed him her coat.

"I said, a man called around eight tonight. He congratulated me on being the star of page ninety-one in The Suburban Spy and told me they had tapped my phones, so I thought I had better come over here instead."

He felt screams of frustration welling up in the back of his throat. "Do you realize that you lost Brawer? You weren't supposed to shake him, Amanda. He was your protection."

She shrugged. "I didn't try to lose him."

Oh, he'd have to give the agent a hard time for losing a civilian driving a station wagon down the streets of D.C. He'd never hear the end of it. That is, if Lee let him live.

"Lee, they gave Augie a list of instructions that say they'll only deal with me. I have—"

He snatched the envelope out of her grasp. "No! Absolutely not, Amanda!" This happens every time—somehow she gets pulled into situations she has no business being in. "Wait. Augie? You went and saw Augie? Tonight? Alone? What were thinking? You should have called me."

"My phones were tapped! Besides, the man said to come alone, and I barely had enough time to drive there." The remorse in her eyes flickered into what appeared to be disappointment. "Not to mention, I thought the Agency had my line tapped as well. I had hoped you would have heard the conversation and met me out there."

His voice softened. "We didn't think they'd be contacting you personally."

"Well, I guess you were wrong," she quipped.

He opened his mouth to give a biting retort but realized she was right. They should have been more on top of things. He should have been more on top of things. Being distracted had cost him and others around him too much in the past. Lee couldn't change things for Dorothy, but he could for Amanda. Giving himself a mental shake, he shifted focus to the instructions in his hands. "No way! Forget it, Amanda. You're not doing the exchange. It's way too dangerous!" He shook the envelope and then slapped it into his other hand. "I can't believe you even want to try this!" He rubbed the back of his neck to relieve some of the tension.

"I have to! They're watching my house and my family—and if we don't get that manuscript . . ." Her eyes pleaded with his.

Lee sat beside her and patted her hand trying to calm her down. "I know. I know." She scooted closer and laid her head on his shoulder. The floral scent of her shampoo was intoxicating. Lifting an errant wisp of her hair, he rubbed it between his fingers. It was so silky and smooth. Her big brown eyes watched his every move, all the while her teeth biting her lower lip. It would be so easy to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her. He was pretty certain she wanted him to kiss her.

He bolted off the couch escaping to the other side of the room where he stared blindly at the photos lining the mantle. He could not allow himself the luxury of feelings right now. She needed him to find the book, not contemplate kissing her soft lips. Lee pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to gain some semblance of control. She needed an agent, not a playboy. Damn Herriman! Her gentle touch on his shoulder caused him to tense. His jaw clenched and like that, he regained control.

"Look, Amanda. I'm gonna get it back. Okay? Trust me. But I think it would be best if you let us handle this."

Amanda cleared her throat. "Us? What do you mean, 'us'?" She moved around to his right and stared at him expectantly but he refused to make eye contact. This was hard enough as it was without losing focus, which, he was sure to do if he made eye contact with her.

"I thought we were a team, Lee?" She slapped her fist against her thigh.

"Don't you see? This is too dangerous. My God, Amanda, don't you get it? He grabbed her shoulders and shook her trying to make her understand. "If I don't get this back you'll be shipped to the middle of Iowa or some other god-forsaken place. You'll be stripped of your identity, taken away from your friends, everything that makes you who you are; and not just you—Phillip, Jamie, your mother." His jaw tensed and his pulse rapidly beat out of control, but he was helpless to stop them. "I've lived that life, Amanda. It isn't pleasant. Leaving everything that's familiar . . . friends . . . your home . . ."

"Don't you think I know that? It terrifies me to think that everything I've done over the past three years to make the world a safer place for my boys could be the one thing that tears their world apart?" She whipped around and stomped over to the large window. Amanda's still form stood staring out to the street below, her arms wrapped protectively around her.

He could hear the hum of the refrigerator in the next room. Amanda, who always had something to say, was speechless. He remained a short distance behind her wanting, aching to touch her, but stopping himself. Control, he reminded himself. "Do you want something to drink?" His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat.

"No," she whispered and then turned, her eyes now missing that sparkle they once held. "I need to go." She walked toward the door.

"Amanda, I'm sorry . . ." He wasn't sure what he wanted to say.

"No, don't." She shook her head sadly. "You've always been honest about your feelings—at least about me being in this business. I had hoped that after all that we've been through, you'd trust me more." She shrugged on her jacket. Her hand was on the doorknob when she abruptly turned around. Determination was etched on her face. "I will be there tomorrow and I will see this to the end . . . whatever the outcome." Without waiting for his response, she left.

He rushed out the door. "Amanda, wait!" He swallowed the bile that threatened to rise.

She turned with a hopeful face and he stared back.

"Lee?"

"Uh, let me go call someone to escort you home."

Her eyes flickered with anger. "Don't bother!" She stormed off toward the elevator and jabbed at the button.

"Amanda! Will you wait a minute? A-man-da," he growled. Dashing back into his apartment, he grabbed the receiver and punched in the number of the Agency. He needed to get patched into agent Brawer and fast. Damn her and her stubbornness!

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After staggering out of Lee's place, Amanda drove around aimlessly for a good thirty minutes. He'd hurt her when he pushed her away as if she was the fuzzy green stuff that she'd thrown out of his fridge. After all they'd been through together he still felt he could do it alone. All the time and effort it took to break through his walls were for not. She slammed her hand on the steering wheel in frustration. "I'll have to prove to him that he does need me. We have to keep that manuscript out of the Russians' hands."

"But I think it would be best if you let us handle this," she mimicked. The nerve of that man! As if she was some fresh recruit! If she had stayed out of half the cases he's told her to over the years, he'd be dead! Where did he get off telling her to stay out of it? This was her life!

"He needs me and we both know it. He's just too stubborn to admit it." She'd show him. A plan formed in her mind. She'd talk to Mr. Melrose before Lee . . . Certain that she could convince their section chief that she could handle the ransom drop, she turned down a neighborhood street toward home.

His harsh words invaded her thoughts: You'll be stripped of your identity; taken away from your friends, everything that makes you who you are, and not just you—Phillip, Jamie, your mother. Amanda cringed. "What am I going to tell mother?" She studied the woman staring back at her from the rearview mirror. "Mother, have you ever thought about moving?" She shook her head and returned her attention to the road in front of her. Too blunt. "You know Mother, I've been thinking, maybe we could all use a change of scenery. I've heard Montana's nice." She winced at the idiocy of it all. Her mother would see right through her.

Any further thoughts were cut short when she nearly hit Phillip's bike pulling into the driveway. Moments later, she was tiptoeing into the back door in hopes of finding everyone asleep.

"Amanda, is that you?"

No such luck. "Yes, Mother." She tossed her keys and purse on the counter, then grabbed the tea kettle and filled it. Maybe tea would ease the pounding in her head. She rubbed her temple and turned on the stove.

"What's wrong, dear?" She jumped when her mother touched her shoulder.

"Oh, I barely missed hitting Phillip's bike on my way in. He promised me he wouldn't leave it in the middle of the driveway anymore after what happened to Jamie's last time." She stared off into space. "He promised me!"

"Well, he had a lot on his mind. It seems Linda Montez's father is being transferred to North Dakota. You'd think it was the end of the world as we know it." She harrumphed.

"Really?" Amanda saw her opening and dove in. "We did a documentary on North Dakota a few months back, it seemed like a lovely place to live." She pulled two mugs from the cupboard and began pouring. "Have you ever thought of moving, Mother?" Amanda avoided her mother's gaze as she handed her a steaming mug.

"Thank you, darling. Yes, why the other day I saw a beautiful colonial on Oak Terrace. It had the most adorable—"

"No, Mother. I meant a different state. Like, I don't know . . . Montana? Or even North Dakota?" Amanda shrugged as if it was a random conversation.

"Oh, Amanda, this is just a junior high crush. We can't pick up and move because Phillip's puppy dog crush is moving away. He'll get over it, dear. You can't protect him from everything. He needs to experience the good and the bad in life. Besides, what would we do in North Dakota? It's freezing there!" She shivered and scooted up the stairs. "Goodnight, darling. Thanks for the tea."

Amanda's shoulders slumped forward. She had tried. She'd have to be sure things didn't go that far. There wasn't a place in the world that could hide her from her mother's questions if Harriman's book was published. She flipped off the lights in the kitchen and headed up to bed. She needed a good night's sleep if she was going to be in first thing in the morning to talk to Mr. Melrose before Lee.

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TBC . . .