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Chapter 12

Lisa awoke from the restless slumber she had been drifting in and out of the entire night to the smell of fresh coffee. With a moan she stretched her stiff limbs and for the umpteenth time in her life, cursed the inventors of vodka drinks. Slowly she trudged upstairs and was headed for the bathroom when a cheerful "Good morning, sunshine," greeted her from the kitchen. Lisa just nodded at Jackson who leaned against the doorframe.

"Did you sleep well?" He took a sip from a steaming mug.

"Not really, no." She shut the door behind her and got in the shower. Half an hour of hot water later Lisa felt human again and ready to face him.

Jackson was standing by the small front window gazing through the blinds. His posture seemed alert and he was cursing under his breath.

Lisa didn't dare join him, but she didn't want to just stand there, either. "What's going on?"

"Very inconspicuous monkey boys everywhere. I told them to stay away, damnit." With an irritated jerk he shut the blinds and walked past her, bumping against her shoulder with his own. "If this is Whitley's idea of hidden surveillance, we're not gonna make it."

"It can't be that bad." Lisa followed him into the kitchen, slightly annoyed.

"I looked out that window for about half a minute and I was able to spot at least five guys patrolling the area." Mechanically, Jackson poured her a mug of coffee. "This is dangerous, Leese, these idiots are going to get us killed."

Together they walked back into the living room and sat down on the couch, a safe distance between them.

"Allright, so we tell Whitley to get off our backs a little." Lisa looked down on her legs, absentmindedly massaging the sore muscles in her neck.

"You forget that Whitley likes to do the exact opposite of what I ask him to do. Maybe if you told him." Jackson sounded pensive.

"I don't think so, he'd smell a damsel in distress and come running."

Their eyes met and for a moment Lisa thought she detected a hint of reluctant approval in his, but it was gone too quickly to be sure.

Jackson leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "This isn't good."

"You don't say. Unfortunately, there's not much we can do at this point." Lisa took her mug and walked into the kitchen looking for breakfast. Her thoughts traveled to Keefe and Whitley and their agents spreading the news that Jackson Rippner had resurfaced. At this very moment, someone somewhere might hear it and perk up, consider a plot. It made her shudder and she dropped the plate she had just picked out of the cupboard.

"Nervous?" Jackson watched her gather up the shards and shook his head when she cut herself. With an exasperated sigh he grabbed a towel and threw it at her.

"You're a regular Sherlock, aren't you?"

"Which would make you my Watson." He grinned. "Hey, Watson, where was that picture of you and all the mud taken?"

Realization dawned on her, but Lisa didn't want to believe it. "Did you go through my stuff!"

"Of course. I needed to be sure you didn't bring any surprises." Jackson put the empty coffee mug on the counter. "Now come on, answer my question. It won't hurt, I promise."

Lisa rolled her eyes and told him while she made herself a sandwich. Smalltalk with Jackson Rippner, who would have thought? She wondered whether he found the situation as strange as she did, because he definitely wasn't showing it. And why was he smiling like that?

Jackson seemed to sense her question. "Easy as ever, Leese." He winked.

A knock on the backdoor made them both jump. Lisa raced down the stairs into the basement, a million thoughts in her head battling for dominance. Jackson was right behind her and turned the key once she was inside her room. "Don't cuff yourself, but keep quiet," he hissed before she heard his footsteps move away. Lisa held her breath.

A minute later, a furious Jackson opened the door and with a little bow, stepped aside for Marc Whitley. "We've got company."

"Ms. Reisert, are you okay?"

"Yes." Lisa's eyes went from Whitley to Jackson, uncertain of what was going on.

"Are you sure?"

Oh for crying out loud. "Yes, I am. What are you doing here?"

"Just checking up on you and to tell you that the news got out." Whitley glanced at Jackson. "Had fun at the club last night?"

"Get out." Jackson's voice was pure, undiluted anger.

Whitley crossed his arms. "Says who?"

"Get. Out. You're putting us at risk and I won't have that." Almost a whisper now, but powerful nonetheless. Jackson was radiating danger.

"You're in no position to tell anybody what you'll have and what not."

Jackson turned around and stiffly walked up the stairs. Lisa followed him after a few seconds which - she could tell - didn't please Whitley.

He went after her. "Ms. Reisert, please take these." Whitley held out his hand and Lisa looked at the tiny round microphones he offered her.

Jackson came out of nowhere. "Are you insane!" He shoved them back into Whitley's breast pocket. "Do you have any idea what my associates will do to us if they discover we're bugged? Never mind that, Whitley, but it's also going to blow your little operation into a million pieces."

"Did you really think we'd let you run around unsupervised, Jack?" Whitley snarled.

"I would hardly call this unsupervised, Marc. It's like 'Surveillance for Dummies' out there!" Jackson was fuming and Lisa realized that she actually agreed with him. It did seem like an unnecessary risk to come here and make them wear something that could give them away so easily.

"You're using the microphones, is that understood?" Whitley handed them to Lisa who took them after a moment's hesitation.

"All the time?" she asked him.

"Once the show gets started, yes." He gave Jackson a smug grin and tipped his head. "So long."

Whitley was just out the door when Jackson turned to Lisa. "Give them to me." He was seething with barely suppressed temper. When she didn't react as fast as he would have liked, he grabbed her wrist. "Give them to me. Now."

Lisa dropped them and let him bend down to pick them off the floor.

"Don't give me that attitude, Leese."

Jackson took a step closer and instinctively, she took one step back. With a cold smile, he followed her. Lisa didn't know what to do – she couldn't stand the closeness, but she didn't want to give in, either. She pushed him hard. "Stay away, Jackson. I mean that."

He shrugged, smile still in place. "I'll be in my room."

Lisa just gave an inward sigh of relief when Jackson suddenly crossed the distance between them with one swift moment and yanked her towards him. His eyes held hers with that familiar stare that scared her more than the pain he caused by digging his fingers into her skin. Jackson bent down and whispered, "Don't piss me off. I'm still me."

After a few seconds he released her and went into his room, the door slamming shut behind him.