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The Energy of Sun Rays

Lee: Nowhere Safe

Even when he and Amanda were the only people in her house, it had never been completely quiet. But it was now, and that was more than a little unnerving. Lee could have sworn he'd caught glimpses of Phillip and Dotty out of the corners of his eyes, and their voices seemed to echo from every corner. He'd shaken his head to clear it more than once; there were no such things as ghosts, and his memory was already vivid enough.

Working quickly, he made his way through Amanda's dresser, pulling out clothing and personal items as he filled up one of her travel bags. She'd been almost catatonic in the car as they'd followed Joe and Carrie over to their townhouse, and hadn't said a word about what she might want from over here.

Carrie had provided him with a list instead. "This should get her through a few days staying here," she'd explained, "and after that, the two of you can decide where you want to go and when you'll go back to the house."

As he tried not to listen to the weird, reverberating silence, Lee wondered if they'd ever be able to come back to this house full of memories that included Dotty and Phillip everywhere.

He'd been going through the drawers as quickly as he could, comparing things he found with the list, but then his hand closed on a solid-square shaped object. Pulling it out, he saw that it was a velvet-colored jewelry box, and when he opened it, his breath caught: her engagement and wedding rings, stored inside for safety. There was also just enough room in the box's domed cover for a satin pouch, which he discovered contained the locket she'd once used to carry a microdot.

At that time, a little over two years ago, the locket had contained a dated picture of Phillip and Jamie. Opening it now, he could see she'd changed the contents: the boys' picture was more recent, and on the formerly-empty opposite side…his breath caught again, this time with a hitch. It was a photo of the two of them, snapped just after they'd said their wedding vows. She'd trimmed the print to mostly focus on him, leaving her own face at the very edge.

Lee hadn't realized how much his appearance had changed in the years since they had begun working together, but after a moment, he decided that the changes were for the better. While it was true that there were some lines around his eyes and mouth, and he could see the first hints of gray in his hair, those signs of aging were more than eclipsed by the joy and wonder in his facial expression.

Amanda made him happy, in a way that the younger, smoother version of himself never could have felt — and definitely couldn't have expressed — without a distinct edge of bitterness and sarcasm.

Shutting the locket and returning it to the pouch, he tucked it back into the box and then slipped that into his pocket. His hands shook. Amanda had been just as awed and delighted as he had been that day. Neither of them had suspected that they'd be caught in someone else's crossfire just two days later, leaving her clinging to life and him more frightened than he could ever recall being.

He took a breath to reassure himself. They'd pulled through then. They'd pull through now. They didn't have any other option.

Closing the suitcase, he made his way out into the hallway and down to the den. Another packed travel bag sat next to the couch, but Joe himself was in the kitchen, cradling his right hand and grimacing as he tentatively searched through cabinets. He'd insisted that he had to do something, anything, to keep himself from going crazy. Packing up Jamie's things would save time, and it had seemed like a good idea to be away from the townhouse for as short a duration as possible.

Dropping Amanda's bag next to Jamie's, Lee headed into the kitchen and pulled the first-aid kit out of its place in the cabinets. "What'd you do to yourself?"

"Nothing."

He indicated the hand that was still curled against the older man's chest. "Yeah. Sure."

With a hiss of pain, Joe held the hand out for inspection. There was some spectacular bruising, but no obvious deformities and a full range of motion, although sweat popped out on his brow as Lee worked it through the movements. "Okay. Not broken, but you did a number on it."

Joe made a soft scoffing noise. "Fair enough. You should see the wall, though."

Lee had, actually; he'd noticed it after he and Carrie had intercepted the screaming, crying, and white-faced Jamie who'd come tearing back through. At the time, though, everyone's focus had been on the devastating image of Phillip's ICU bed with the sheet drawn over his face, and of Dr. Dawson's expression as he delivered the news. Blasted pulmonary embolisms. We can't anticipate or predict the double-damned things, and half the time being prepped still isn't enough.

At the time, the emergency room's wall hadn't been worthy of his attention; he'd simply categorized the sight as the result of someone else's bad news and moved on.

Now, he sighed and went back to the cabinets for Amanda's craft box. Joe's gaze followed him. "Looks like you know your way around in here pretty well."

"That the best insult you can come up with?"

"I don't mean it as an insult."

Lee pulled out an unused and relatively clean popsicle stick from the box, breaking it in half and then starting on the edges with a bit of leftover sandpaper. "Then what do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said. You know your way around in here, better than I used to even."

He shrugged and kept sanding. "I usually help clean up after dinner. Even cook it every now and then."

"So you are here a good bit."

That caused him to pause and look up. "You got a point?"

"Yes. I can't see any of your things here, but you're clearly familiar with the whole house. You know Jamie well enough to handle him when he's upset. And you claim that you and Amanda are married."

He felt himself bristling. "We are. Since February."

"Eight months ago? Then why haven't I heard about it?"

Deciding the sanding job was good enough, he dropped the popsicle stick on the counter and started to dig through the first-aid kit for some tape. "We didn't think it was safe."

"Safe? Wasn't she shot right around then? Was that before or after you got married?"

"After," admitted Lee. "Right after, actually. That was supposed to have been our honeymoon."

"So that's why you were in California. Was it a case?"

"No, actually." Tape in hand, he positioned the popsicle stick between the last two fingers of Joe's hand and began taping them together, buddy-style. "We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"And now this. Which isn't based on a case either, is it?"

"It's too early to tell."

"That cop seemed pretty sure." Joe winced again as he finished the taping, but kept his hand still. "You couldn't have done anything to prevent this, any more than you could've prevented Amanda being shot. Right?"

"I might've sent Amanda home early from the bureau, which would have kept Dotty from having to drive Phillip home from the library. What are you getting at?"

"You can't protect them from everything." With his uninjured hand, Joe slapped the craft box closed, narrowly missing Lee's own fingers. "Cut the crap already! You know full well that there was no reason to send Amanda home. Just like there was no reason to think either of you'd be in any danger in California."

"So?"

"So life's dangerous enough even when you aren't working cases! But when you are, don't you think she and the boys are safer with you being in here instead of skulking around the garden and running off to hide whenever someone like Edna Gilstrap might see you? Haven't you ever thought about that?"

The skin under Lee's collar heated up. "Now, you wait just a damn minute. Only a couple of people even know Amanda works with the Agency!"

"Really? You've been on dozens of cases together. Everyone in the Intelligence community knows you're an operative and that she's your partner! Hell, they even knew it around the EAO, and that was before the two of you helped me clear my name." He rounded on Lee, voice rising. "And you can bet if they knew already, so did half the lawyers and most of the private investigators in this town. Not to mention all the folks from the three-letter agencies and the government itself."

"Oh, come on —"

"Don't give me that. This city is lousy for secrets, and you damn well know it! So spare me this 'keeping the family safe' baloney. It was stupid at the time, and it's even more stupid now!" Joe paused, breathing heavily. "I can't even imagine why you would've thought that way in the first place. Just being partners was enough to paint the target. Getting married only turned it a brighter shade of red."

The heat began spreading into his face. "That's none of your damn business!"

"Getting married? No. But protecting my ex-wife and children? Absolutely my business! So do that already!"

"I am!"

"Do it right! Be here!" But then Joe abruptly spun away. "And oh my God, I can't believe I just said that." He stalked out of the kitchen toward the den. "Let's get out of here," he called from somewhere near the couch.

Lee forced himself to put the first-aid kit and craft box away, feeling his temper cool as he did so. Still, he stared at the cabinet door for a long time before opening the one beside it and taking out a bottle.

Filling a nearby glass with water, he carried both items into the den. "You, ah, you want an aspirin first?"

Joe let out a long breath. "Yeah. Thanks." He swallowed quickly and then handed the bottle and empty glass back. "Sorry. I guess I'm still trying to work through everything."

"No," said Lee. "You're right. I just —" he stopped, running out of words. "Let me put these away and then I'll carry the bags out. You don't need to make that hand any worse than it already is."

He did one more thing after rinsing the glass and putting everything back in the cabinets. Reaching under his shirt, he pulled out the chain Amanda had given him for his birthday, not too long ago. Then, he unclasped it, slid the wedding ring off, and put it on his hand.

The little box in his pocket felt like it might burn a hole right through the fabric.