"This attack has failed. All attempts to destroy democracy by terrorism will fail." - Margaret Thatcher At Tory Conference in Brighton after the IRA bombing of the Grand Hotel, 1984
6:23 p.m. Monday, March 17, 1986
Amanda leaned against the shower wall and sobbed, letting out all the emotion she had held in for the past several hours, hell days. The floodgates were now open and she didn't care.
After settling her nerves, she stepped out of the shower and onto the cool tile of the bathroom. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and touched the tender skin near her eye. The once dark purple coloring was now replaced by a light yellow discoloration. Her lip was just about back to normal. The lip balm Lee had picked up for her really had helped.
After towel drying her hair, she threw it up in a loose pony tale and dressed in the black tee shirt and grey shorts that Lee had loaned her the night before. She self-consciously tugged on the shorts before she left the room.
She watched from the entrance of the kitchen as Lee stood pouring them each a glass of red wine. He must have heard her walk in and glanced back to watch her.
She giggled when he spilled a few drops onto the counter.
"What's so funny, Mrs. King?" he asked as he wiped up the droplets.
"Rough day? You normally have nerves of steel, Scarecrow." She smirked taking the glass he held out to her. "Thanks."
"Well, I guess I'm not used to seeing my lovely partner's sexy legs in all their glory."
She pulled the shirt down and blushed. "Well, thank you very much." She smiled broadly.
He cupped her cheek and ran his thumb lightly over her bruised eye. "Your eye is looking so much better." He looked more closely at her. "Except that it looks like you've been crying." He stared at her trying to determine if she was going to be okay and she looked away. "You okay?"
"Yeah, just had to let off some steam, you know?" She smiled meekly.
"Actually, I do. Do you want to talk about it?" He grasped her hand and guided her over to the sofa in the living room. The fire roaring in front of them felt good on her damp skin.
"McGuinnis is going to federal prison and if those warrants pull through, we'll have enough evidence to link his backers. Case closed."
"I still think you should talk to someone about what he did to you, Amanda."
"Lee Stetson recommending I talk to a shrink? Will wonders never cease?" She laughed.
"I just think it would—"
"Relax, Lee. I already have an appointment tomorrow afternoon with Dr. Phaff. Mr. Melrose insisted."
"Remind me to thank, Billy." He smiled.
"Oh?" She raised her brow. "I'm glad you feel that way. Mr. Melrose made an appointment for you as well, Scarecrow."
"What? Why?"
She turned his hand over and ran her hand lightly over his shredded knuckles. "Call it, partner support." She patted his knee.
"Uh huh. Speaking of which . . ." He held his glass up to her. "To my amazing partner. Who is much more capable than I give her credit for." He clinked his glass to hers and she smiled in appreciation before taking a tentative sip.
"Amanda . . ."
"Hmmm?" she slipped her feet under her and looked at him expectantly.
"How did you figure out that McGuinnis had planted the bomb in the embassy next door?"
She smiled at him and took in a gulp of air. "Remember I was reading through Agent Nobles' journal last night?" At his nod she continued. "Well, she mentioned in it that he had talked about them going to Brazil, which I thought was odd since they had just met, so it stuck in my head. And then when we were talking to Francine and, well she was in the basement . . . it just kind of clicked." She shrugged as he shook his head and laughed.
"I'll never understand how your mind works, Amanda. But I sure am glad it works the way it does."
"Thanks, I think," she giggled.
"Hey, did you have a nice call with the boys and your mother earlier?" He stroked her arm that now lay across the back of the sofa.
"Yes, thanks. They were happy to hear from me and it felt good to hear their voices." She smiled. "My mother must have heard something in my voice, because she announced at the end of the call that they were coming home a few days early."
"It'll be good for you to have them home."
"Yeah, you know, when they say your life flashes before you in the moments just before you think you're going to die?
He nodded.
"I don't think that's true in the case of nearly exploding bombs."
"No?"
She shook her head. "No time." She winked.
"You never did tell me which wire you cut." He stared at her curiously.
"What do you mean?"
"What do you mean, what do I mean? There were three different colored wires, right?"
She nodded.
"So, which one did you cut?" He placed his wine glass on the coffee table and then took hers from her and placed it next to his.
He nibbled her neck and she giggled. "Which one do you think I cut?" she whispered.
He continued his assault to her senses and whispered back, "If I knew I wouldn't have asked, Mrs. King."
"Green. I cut the green wire."
He stopped mid-kiss and pulled back to look her in the eye. "You cut the green wire?"
"Yes, that's the one you told me to cut, isn't it?" She kissed his lips and started her own trail of kisses behind his ear.
"Hmmph." He seemed perplexed.
Now she pulled back to look at him. "What?"
"Nothing. I guess I just figured you cut the yellow wire after McGuinnis told you to. But, I'm glad you listened to your gut."
"Well, I probably would have picked the black wire."
"So, why didn't you?" He looked confused.
"You told me to trust my instincts, so I did. I trusted you."
The End