Effective immediately, p.8
Effective Immediately, page 8
part #3 of The Agency Files Series
“C’mon, I got you.”
He stared at the cupcake, tempted. He’d bought two—left one at home for his client on Monday. I could eat it tomorrow. It’d be so worth it to see it smeared all over her face.
“You wouldn’t.” As she stared at him, Erika seemed to realize that yes, he would. She jumped up, but they both knew he could easily out run her, so several steps away, she turned and held up her hands. “C’mon… it was just a joke. And you don’t want to waste such a lovely cupcake like that. Do you?”
Keith took another step.
“I’ll make you a steak—however you want it, I’ll make it. Mac ‘n’ cheese too. Um… PBJ. Um..”
He lunged, smearing the cupcake all over her face as he pulled her closer with his other arm. “Gotcha.” Half the cupcake lay crumbled in his hand. “Want a bite?”
“Yes!” Erika reached for it, but he held it over his head. “Are you going to decorate my face with it?”
Keith thought he saw the answer in her eyes and began to back away, but she pointed. “You mean that? The last few morsels left after your…” she wiped a chunk of icing from her cheek and popped it in her mouth. “Mmm… seriously good. Where was I? Prank. Right, after your prank? I think not. I want the limeness!”
Against his better judgment, against all rational thought, Keith lowered his hand and offered it to her. “You set me up, you know…”
Her eyes never left his as Erika nodded. “I know.”
Befuddled by the expression in her eyes, Keith’s pulse raced as she leaned closer and whispered, “It’s tasty—you did good.”
“Did I—”
In that moment, she got him. As her lips met his, she rubbed her cheek and nose against his and giggled as he growled and pulled her closer. “I should so smear what’s left of that thing in your hair.”
She kissed him again. “But you won’t…”
Keith swiped a bit of frosting from his upper lip and tasted it. “Mmm… no, I won’t.” Instead, he pinched a piece of the cupcake from the wrapper and wiped a bit more frosting onto it before popping it in his mouth. “That’s amazing right there.”
In Keith’s mind, it was the oddest cupcake consumption ever. They both pinched pieces of crumbled cake and added frosting from their faces and hands to get a perfect mixture. Only when it was gone and they’d washed away all crumbs and smears with bottled water and paper napkins that disintegrated like rice paper did they—or Erika, rather—notice the maraschino cherry half hanging from his shirt pocket. “I’ll let you have it,” she said as she dangled it from her fingers, “if you’ll tell me the worst thing that could happen on Monday.”
Keith took the cherry but didn’t eat it. “I could lose another client.” He sighed. “Look, I know it wasn’t real—not in the end. But in the moment it was real, and I chose the wrong action that got my client shot. That it was just squibs, blanks, and a narcotic to mimic death isn’t the point.”
The expected argument didn’t come. Erika scooted closer and laid her head on his shoulder. “I can see that. I want to tell you that you’re being ridiculous, and it’s crazy to get all worked up about it.” Her sigh soothed as she added, “But I know I’d feel the same way. Not just a personal ‘failure’ or something, but that my job was about protecting, and if something happened…” Her eyes met his as she whispered, “I think I’d quit. They’re so lucky you didn’t quit. They need you, Keith. Even with the loss of a client, they need you.”
“But—”
“No, no buts. I bet anyone else would have lost her the minute they pulled into that driveway. You’re that good. I’ve seen you in action.” Again, she sighed. “But yeah, I have to admit. I would have quit.”
With his throat constricting so tightly that it hurt, Keith couldn’t have swallowed the cherry if he’d wanted to. He dangled it before her, urging her to take it, and said, “I needed to hear that.”
“I know you did. That’s why I told you. I’m not very good at admitting something like that.” Long after she’d eaten the cherry and tossed the stem into the grass, Erika added. “I meant it when I said they’re lucky to have you. When you start doubting yourself—and I know you will until you’ve had a successful case or two behind you—just remember that.”
Chapter Nine
Can you get malaria in the United States—well, in Canada? Lucy scratched at her arm. “Do you have more bug spray?”
“Sorry. We used the last of it yesterday.” Karen passed Lucy a tube of lotion. “Maybe it’ll repel them somehow.”
“We.” That’s Agency speak for, “You wiped us out, and now I look like I’ve got the measles or something.” She couldn’t help smirking at her own thoughts, but Lucy nodded. “Sorry. I’m not used to these things liking me.”
“Keith should be here soon. Once he’s here, we’ll call your family, and I’ll go do some shopping in Warroad.”
“He’s not bringing supplies?”
Karen shrugged. “I’m sure he is, but I don’t think he’ll have enough bug spray on him. I don’t think either of us have had a summer placement here. I’ve been here once in late spring where a few brave bugs decided to hatch, but a cold front usually wipes ‘em out.”
“And we don’t have a car, why? I mean, if someone comes in here, with a car—”
Karen interrupted her. “We have the advantage.” She popped the top to a can of soup, and the contents flew all over the kitchen. “Ugh! Anyway, this place has no road to it. We built it by helicopter. If a helo comes in, we’ll hear it. If ground crews come in, we can hide. If Keith had taken Claire here, she wouldn’t have gotten shot.”
“What! You said this Keith was the best, and he got his client shot? No way!” Her heart raced and her brain screamed for her to flee. You’re gonna be dead. That’s it. You’re gonna die. Go while you can.
“It was a training exercise and the ‘client’ had inside information on how to beat us—information no client could have. She knew exactly what to do and when to ensure that he lost.”
As they talked, Karen wiped down cupboards, pumped out more water, and wiped down the metal sink. “There. Maybe the next can will end up in the pan instead of all over the kitchen.”
“Well it was a tough one. Neither one of us could get that pop-top off.”
“Mark thinks it’s so much easier to do stuff like that. Gimme a can opener any day.” She frowned, twirling the cloth on her finger. “What were we talking about?” Before Lucy could answer, Karen nodded. “Right. Keith. Anyway, Mark chose him because he’s the best in these cases.”
“Well…” Even Lucy had to admit that it wasn’t as bad as it sounded when put that way. “I guess he’s probably even more on his game since that, too. When was it?” Her attempt at nonchalance bombed.
Karen’s laughter filled the cabin. “Couple of weeks ago. And yes, he’s on his game.” The pause in conversation grew awkward until Lucy looked up at Karen, questioning. The agent nodded, as if she saw something she needed to see. “Keith is the best there is—bar none. But, Lucy, his skills aren’t worth anything if you don’t follow orders. When it’s just you and him, he may even lock you in your room or chain your ankle to that ring over there.”
Fear pulsated through her veins. “Chain me up—like a dog?” Anger chased out the fear almost as quickly as it had arrived. “Excuse me?”
“He has to be able to trust you. He hasn’t been with you for a week like I have. If he has any doubts as to whether you’ll follow orders, he’ll ensure you have to. You agreed to that when you talked to Mark.”
“Yeah, but he said it was an extreme situation—that it shouldn’t apply to me.”
“And it shouldn’t. I’m just reminding you that it could.” Karen pulled out another can of soup and popped the top with ease. “I just want you to realize exactly how important it is. We’re going to be calling your friends and family. That requires following carefully scripted conversations—leading them naturally anywhere we need you to.”
“Did you decide on why I’ve left?”
Karen grinned.
This is gonna be good.
“We decided on workplace discrimination. You’re sick of them treating you like the office mascot, and you’re working with a lawyer. That way, it’ll make sense why Mr. Kim keeps calling to see if they’ve heard from you. He’s paranoid about a lawsuit.”
“He should be! Jerk should know better than to talk to me like a little kid and underestimate my ability to perform my job with as much or more skill than the other assistants!”
Stunned into shocked silence, Karen stared at her. “Wha—I didn’t—oh you are good.”
Lucy curtsied. “Thank you—thank-you-very-much,” she added with a pathetic attempt at an Elvis imitation.
Soup sizzled in the pan as Karen swirled it around above the stove flame. “Can you grab a couple of bowls?”
Lucy stared at the stove, mesmerized by the flame. “Karen?”
“Yeah.”
“How do they get propane in here without roads?”
“Helicopter. They bring in a new tank and take out the old.” Karen nodded, anticipating Lucy’s next question. “Yes it is dangerous. But it’s what we have to do.”
“Don’t they have gas lights or something? Why didn’t they rig the cabin for electricity somehow?”
“No grid. Can’t be on the grid. Some places can, but not here.” Karen laughed. “You’d better be glad this is summer and not winter. It stays dark a lot more—hold on.”
Lucy swallowed hard as Karen stepped close. “If you tell me there’s a spider on my head—”
“No. Tick on your neck. Lean right.”
“Eeew… that’s the third one today. That’s it. No more water for me. I’m not going out to that outhouse again.”
“You’ll drii—ink,” Karen muttered as she dug out the tick. “Gotcha. And you’ll pee and check yourself for ticks when you get back. You’ll do it because we do not need you hospitalized. That could get tricky.”
Before Lucy could argue, Karen put her finger to her lips. She pointed at the cabinet beneath the breakfast bar—the one reinforced with concrete. When Lucy started to ask why, Karen scowled and jabbed her finger at the cabinet, hissing, “Now!”
Karen crept to the door, listening. Voices outside—two. That means it’s not Keith. To call or to handle it myself—which? The voices neared. Only the fact that whomever it was didn’t seem to be hiding their presence kept her from shooting first and asking questions later. A third voice—muffled—entered the equation. Karen pulled out both guns and reached for her Berretta over the door. A glance through the corner of the shutters showed two teenagers talking to someone behind them—well, the guy was talking. The girl stood batting at the cloud of mosquitoes that surrounded them. The “someone,” she couldn’t see. But when the kids took off, with slumped shoulders, her finger slid over the trigger as she waited for the third voice to appear.
Nothing. She moved from window to window, circling the whole cabin, searching for the third person. I did hear a voice. They wouldn’t have gotten talked into leaving if someone hadn’t come. It should be Keith, but then where is he?
A shift—ever so slight—near the propane tank hidden in the trees gave away his position. Definitely Keith. Will he have his phone on or not—probably not. Especially after the kids.
Calling out to him—impossible. The kids might hear. A green shirt draped over a chair in the bedroom gave her an idea. Karen hung it over the curtain rod and waited. Seconds passed. A minute. Just as she’d decided to give up and wait for his arrival on his own time, she heard the front door knob turn.
Karen crouched behind the couch, leveled her gun on the door, and waited. More seconds passed before Keith pushed open the door and appeared, gun drawn and eyes searching. “Standing up,” she said. “Couch to your left.” As his gun lowered she called out, “Okay, Lucy. You can come out now.”
At the sight of her, Keith set his gun on the shelf above the door, settled his hands on his hips, and grinned. “So, what were you going to do with our amorous guests?”
Lucy’s head peered over the counter. “Amorous?”
“I guess the guy found the cabin last week and decided it would make a perfect spot to bring his girlfriend.” Keith grinned. “I think the girl was relieved. Pretty sure she’s not as keen on the idea as she pretends.” He smiled at Lucy. “Nice to meet you, Lucy. I’m Keith.”
“Hi. I guess I should be thankful for being small. When you’re my size and you say you don’t think you’re ready, guys get scared.” She snickered. “And then you’ve gotta deal with convincing other guys that holding your hand won’t get them charged as a sex offender.”
“Aside from arrival, how was the trip?” Karen returned to her bowl of soup and frowned. Cold. She dumped it back in the pan and picked up Lucy’s. “Want yours reheated too?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
While the women ate their soup, Keith unpacked his backpack. Lucy left her bowl half-finished and lunged for a bottle of bug repellent. “Oh, elixir of the gods—here to save me from involuntary bloodletting.” She tossed Keith an exaggerated lovelorn expression. “You will be my hero forevah!”
Laughing, Keith raised an eyebrow to Karen. “Is she always this fun?”
“Usually—until she remembers she has to make a trip to the outhouse.”
“Yeah, well those mosquitoes are rabid and ticks fall from the trees—literally. It’s insane. I thought they were bad at home, but ugh!”
“Soup?” Karen offered Keith her bowl and reached for another can.
“Yeah… I’ll take soup. Thanks. I’ve got a bag of salad in here. It’s probably a bit wilty—”
“Wilted.” Lucy blushed. “Sorry.”
“She’s a bit of a grammarian at times; it comes and goes, so you never know when she’ll strike next. Makes for a fun guessing game.” Karen winked at Lucy. “This could get interesting now that you’re here.”
“I’ll stay on my toes.” Keith sat at the table with his bowl of soup and an enormous water bottle. “Looks like rain out there. I’d wait until tomorrow to go to town—but the mosquitoes’ll be worse, so it’s up to you.”
Ugh. Not what I needed. I could go now, get a hotel room, come back tomorrow… A glance at Lucy’s anxious face stopped her selfish thoughts. Karen shook her head. “Nope. Not walkin’ in the rain.”
All stayed quiet until Keith pulled a bag of M&Ms from the front pocket of his backpack, followed by a deck of cards. “Anyone up for a game?”
The book light glowed over the page of Keith’s Bible. Psalm 121 soothed his spirit as he read and reread each verse. “My help comes from the Lord.” And I’d better not forget that. This isn’t about me. It’s about Lucy and what God is doing to help us keep her safe. I can’t do it alone. I can’t do it alone.
Some parts, if read with a childlike mind, sounded as if God would protect him from the bogey man. But the last words soothed more than any of the others. “‘The Lord will guard over your coming in and your going out from this time forth and forever.’”
“Do you believe that?”
“Wondered how long you’d stand there.”
Lucy inched forward and stood at the corner of the couch as if unwilling to get too close to the man with the ominous book. “You knew I was there? How?”
“Your door whooshed about four minutes ago. Then your sock caught on the edge of the runner that goes along behind the couch here. When you thought I heard you about forty-five seconds ago, you went rigid and sucked in enough air so you wouldn’t have to breathe for a bit. Then, of course, you exhaled when you got desperate for more air.” Keith’s eyes met hers. “You’ve got some strong lungs. That’s good information for me.”
“Oh.”
Keith shifted in his seat. “Can’t sleep?”
“No… I’m not used to this much inactivity. I’m usually on the go until I crash into bed at night. My brain won’t turn off.”
He held up his Bible so the light shone on her face. “You’re welcome to sit with me. I’ve got Calvin and Hobbes in the backpack there, if you like…”
“You can read more of that if you want…”
Grateful for the darkness that hid his smile, Keith turned the page. “Maybe I should try something a little less depressing.”
“You’re worried, aren’t you?”
“About?” If Karen told Lucy about the drill, she’s dead meat.
“This assignment—after the way the last one went. I told Karen I thought you were probably at the top of your game this time because you’ve got something to prove to yourself.”
Yep. Might have to jerk the meat too. That thought prompted a snicker. “Well, it’s more like I won’t get lazy—sloppy. I usually don’t, but my cousin really got me good. She knew my weaknesses and played on them.”
“Sounds like you didn’t have a chance, then.”
That’s true… and I did get her out of that car. For all I know, she ran straight for the stupid bullets to help their side win. That thought sparked the first hint of confidence he’d felt since cradling his so-called client in his arms as he watched her “die.” A sigh escaped. “It shook me up, but I’m ready. I just needed a bit of a break to clear my head.”
The question came much later than he’d expected. Mark had warned it might. Lucy hadn’t asked during the initial interview. “How many clients have you lost?”
“Me personally or The Agency?”
“Both.”
It still rankled to admit it, but Keith muttered, “I’ve just lost the one—sort of. The Agency has lost a very few—I think Mark said the current percentage is at seven percent. It fluctuates hugely. If something goes wrong, the numbers jump crazy high and then drop with each new client until it’s down again.”
“But you won’t let anyone get to me, right?”
Despite his deep desire to tell her what she wanted to hear, Keith couldn’t. “Lucy, I can’t make that promise. I can promise to do everything I can to keep you alive, and The Agency is doing everything they can to ensure that I don’t even have to work at it. Half your protection is in keeping your whereabouts a secret in the first place. If they’re successful, we have a boring existence until it’s safe for you to go home.” When she didn’t answer he added, “Lucy?”
