Chapter Four
Everyone stared at each other. Though there was no sound, it seemed like the shot echoed around the room for hours.
Chris sat down on the edge of the Lazy Boy. “Do we…should we check on them?”
Mike, Tyson, and Lonnie looked at each other. An unspoken agreement was reached. “Tyson and I will go,” Mike stated. They stood up to go to the closet and get their winter gear.
Devon stepped forward, away from JC and the staircase. “Sit your asses back down! No one is going anywhere!! That’s how this all got started in the first place, because those two idiots had to go and play Hero. If they took down the Cougar, they’ll be back in a few minutes, we just have to wait!”
The people in the room stared at her in shock. Hell, she had shocked herself. But she HAD tried to stop Callaway and Mendoza from running off, they just hadn’t listened to her. Although, why should they? She was just a lowly Transferor, what did she know when compared to the Special Agents?
They all sat around for a few minutes after Devon’s outburst. Chris’ leg was tapping like he was a freaking jackrabbit. Lance alternated between pacing and rushing back to his son’s side, then getting up and pacing again. Devon rested back against the stairs again. Everyone was waiting for the door to open, for Mendoza and Callaway to come rushing in, telling them that the Cougar had been taken down.
Finally, after what had seemed like hours but was really only minutes, the back doorknob rattled. Everyone was on his or her feet, ready to celebrate or rush for cover. Going to the door, Tyson leaned against it, wanting to be heard over the wind. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me, God dammit! Open the door, NOW!” Callaway didn’t sound like he was in a celebratory mood. Tyson rushed to open the two deadbolts and turn the door lock. Callaway blew in with a swirl of snow.
“Everyone DOWN!” he ordered, dropping to the ground himself and closing the door with his foot. People stared at him in shock for half a second, and it was then that the gunshot exploded the window next to Devon and JC.
Devon screamed as JC dragged her down to the floor with him. The floor was showered with glass as the bullet embedded itself in the far wall. The other people in the room immediately dropped.
Looking around, her mouth gaping, a breeze blowing in from the now open window, the glass twinkling in the candlelight on the floor. Speaking of candlelight…the candle that had been in the window had fallen to the floor but was still lit. Devon leaned over and blew it out.
“What the HELL?” she shrieked as she and JC crawled around the couch to join the others on the floor in the area in front of the fireplace.
“Mendoza and I got separated by the storm. I had just seen him, when the Cougar came up behind me. It feels like he hit me in the back of the head with a tree branch or something. I don’t know. He jumped me and we started fighting for the gun; it went off and I had a bullet in my side. I blacked out for a few seconds, and when I came to…Mendoza was only a few feet away from me. He had been shot in the head. The Cougar got HIS gun too, his bullets, his clips. Everything.”
Covering her gasp with her hand, Devon swallowed hard. “And…and Mendoza.”
Callaway looked up. “He’s dead.”
“Oh my God, oh my God.” It looked like Marissa was about to hyperventilate. Devon could only lay there in shock. It wasn’t like this was the first time a field agent had died, or the first field agent that she knew who had died…but this…it wasn’t like she had ever been IN the field with the agent when he had been taken out.
“We need to blow out the candles in the windows. The less he can see of us inside the house the better. Mike, Tyson, and Lonnie, think you can handle it?”
The bodyguards nodded.
“Good. Remember: stay LOW!”
Nodding again, they were off, creeping across the carpet. Luckily, there were only six windows, and one of the candles was already out.
Mike was on his last window, next to the one JC and Devon had been standing by, when another bulled shattered the glass above him.
“LOW!” Callaway bellowed. Mike, covered in glass, turned slowly and glared at the G-man. As if he’d WANTED to be the target for the psycho outside. Grumbling, he threw off his sweater and made his way back.
“Now, blow out the candles upstairs. And bring some blankets back down. We need to cover up the windows so he can’t see in anymore.”
Though they didn’t look any more amenable to taking orders from the FBI agent, Mike, Tyson, and Lonnie made their careful way upstairs on the right staircase, wanting to avoid the Cougar’s line of sight.
Silence reigned as they waited for the bodyguards to come back down. Every once in a while, a blanket would fall down from above. The trio crept back down a few minutes later, Mike wearing a new sweater, ready to board up the windows.
Devon looked around, looking for…Ah! There! “Guys! Hey, big bodyguard guys!”
Mike, Tyson, and Lonnie, all in the kitchen looking for something to hold up the blankets, turned to look at her.
“You should use the cardboard from those boxes over there to board the windows; it’s less see through, and more insulating than the blankets will be, especially on the broken windows.”
Looking between each other, they nodded. Lonnie and Tyson crawled into the living room to empty the Christmas decorations and tree ornaments from the boxes, before ripping them up. Finding some duct tape in the kitchen, Mike joined them, and they started boarding up the windows. Everyone breathed easier when the windows were blocked.
They all seemed to realize at the same time that Agent Callaway had been shot and blood was pooling under his body. Devon’s eyes widened at the size of the red puddle on the hardwood floor.
Groaning as he rolled over onto his back, Callaway shrugged out of his winter jacket, trying not to jar the injury, now that the blood flow was finally starting to ebb.
Devon gasped as she saw that the side of his white shirt was almost completely soaked in his blood. Glaring at her, Callaway went back to being his nasty little self. “Want to play nurse, Dev?”
Flipping him off, Devon shook her head. “Gee, I actually think that Mike or Tyson or Lonnie would be better at first aid than I would.”
Callaway glared at her as he tried to get his shirt off, but already some of the blood had dried and was sticking to his skin. He started tugging at it, trying to rip it off. Marissa, who had stood up when they were given the all-clear signal, promptly fainted at the near-Velcro sounds of his shirt and skin. Catching her, Justin carried her to the loveseat, contemplating whether to try to wake her or let her sleep through as much of this mess as she could.
Rolling her eyes, Devon was all for his letting the princess sleep through this one. Thus far, she had proved not to have any redeeming qualities. Although…Devon looked down. She WAS extremely grateful that Marissa’s tank top could substitute for her soaked bra.
**********
The Cougar smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. It might not even have been a real smile. But it was there on his face, the position of his mouth indicating his malicious satisfaction. He took a deep breath, imagining he could smell their fear, even through the thick log walls of their safe, little cabin.
Silly people. Didn’t they know no one was safe from him tonight? Didn’t they realize? Tonight was the night. Tonight was his night.
And they were sitting ducks. They were his toys. And he’d just had a boatload of fun. He could still feel the endorphins rushing into his brain after the fight with those agents, shooting at the cabin like it was a target range, giving him a natural high like nothing else in his life. The only other times he’d even felt close to this high were the nights he’d kidnapped their precious child. The nights he’d snuck in and out without being caught. The nights the signs had been with him and he had succeeded in his mission of terror, pain, grief, worry, and anxiety.
These boys and their little entourage…it was like a drug supply right at his fingertips tonight. Whenever he wanted. Whenever he started to come back down, all he had to do was reach out. They were right there. Scared. Vulnerable.
He smiled.
Sitting ducks.
**********
“Augh! Stop that, you little shit!”
Trying to stifle her laughter, Devon watched as Mike and Tyson cleaned Callaway’s bullet wound with the alcohol from the first aid kit. They had probed it to make sure that the bullet hadn’t taken any pieces of fabric with it on its way through Callaway’s body. And they were being none too gentle with the agent who’d had his head stuck up his ass for the entire three days that they’d known him.
Making her way to Marissa and Justin’s couch, Devon leaned back against the couch, getting comfortable. There was definitely something to be said about watching your ex-boyfriend writhe in pain while being cared for by three burly bodyguards. He was just lucky that the bullet had passed through his side and that no one would have to dig the bullet out of his abdomen.
JC walked over and joined her. “If I didn’t know better, I would think that you were getting some supreme satisfaction from watching this.”
Devon smiled. “Oh, hell yes I am. Callaway’s such a jerk; anyone who can bring him off his I’m-a-Special-Agent pedestal is a friend of mine.”
“So you knew Callaway and Mendoza back in Vegas?”
Sobering a little at the mention of Mendoza, Devon nodded. “Yeah. I knew Callaway.” Shrugging, Devon decided there was no harm in telling the truth at this point. “Hell, I went out with him for awhile. But I didn’t really know Mendoza. He’s a firm believer in the tough-guy image; I don’t think anyone really knew him, even Callaway, and they’ve been partners for over three years.”
“That’d be weird,” JC said. “I can’t imagine spending that much time with someone and keeping your distance. Me and the guys, we’ve been together for almost…wow, it’s about seven years now. I can’t imagine not knowing everything about them. Sure, there are downsides to having your every secret known. I mean, they even know that…well…that I…it might sound weird, but I like to buy classic Disney paintings from its early period.”
“I know.”
JC gave her an odd look. “And I collect the Disney McDonald’s toys.”
“I know.”
“And I love to watch All in the Family.”
“I know.”
“Okay, that’s just…bizarre. This isn’t the kind of stuff we’ve exactly shared during our million and one interviews with the press.”
“I know.”
JC gave a frustrated growl. “I know! I know you know. I get the concept. And yes, that is from Disney’s Hercules. I like Disney movies.” As Devon opened her mouth, JC cut her off. “Let me guess, you know that too.”
Devon shrugged. “Yeah. I guess I did know that too.”
“How do you know all this?” JC asked, continuing in a whisper when he saw that they were attracting attention. Callaway was sitting in the Lazy Boy, a white bandage wrapped around his midsection, the guys had gone back to their Monopoly game, and after a long struggle and a lot of curses, the tree was almost up.
“Well, I did tell you guys that I had been transferring all of the notes from this case into the computer.”
“And those notes include my love of Disney?”
Another shrug. “You can’t say that FBI agents aren’t thorough. I also have all the notes from the entire case, not just Vegas.”
“And you’ve just been studying them? Or do you have a really great memory? What’s Justin’s favorite movie? I know that’s been mentioned at some point during those interviews.”
Devon didn’t really like the idea of a quiz. “I don’t know.”
“Are you just saying that because you don’t want to admit anything else, or do you really not know?”
“I really don’t know.”
“Chris’ favorite design from the FuMan line?”
“Don’t know.”
“Other possible names for Greg that Lance considered?”
“Well, one was Travis, but I don’t remember the others.”
“Joey’s next Broadway play?”
“I don’t know!”
“My favorite Disney movie?”
“Robin Hood.”
JC’s hands went up in aggravation. “So you can’t tell me Joey’s next play, but you know my favorite Disney cartoon?!”
“Ummm…yeah, that’s kind of how it goes.” Devon, realizing that she REALLY didn’t like how this conversation was going, buried her face in her hands. He was about to come to some not too cool realizations in a few seconds.
“Whhhhhy?”
Keeping her face buried, she explained, “Well, you know how a lot of little girls read all those magazine and TV interviews and get all these little girl crushes? Well, it’s kind of like that…only with FBI interviews instead of magazines.”
“Little girls read those magazines over and over again before they start memorizing stuff like you have!”
“Imagine that.”
“You’ve read them over and over again!?”
“Imagine that.”
Silence.
“JC? How mad are you?”
He looked at her. “I’m not…mad. It’s just…weird. It’s rare for me to actually spend TIME with any of those little girls that memorize stuff like that.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
Giving her a disbelieving look, he snorted his doubt.
“Well, okay…so I did read those reports a lot. But I didn’t really mean to memorize all that stuff. It just…kind of happened. I mean…there was something about you that I liked, so I remembered stuff like what your favorite cartoon was or that you liked to watch All in the Family.”
“Sooooo, you know what my favorite TV show is. What’s yours?”
Devon’s eyebrows raised in surprise. He wasn’t screaming and running for his life, away from a twenty-five year old teeny? “Friends. Me and my friend Melinia watch it every week together. It’s like a set date.”
“Melinia…this is the one that works in your office with you?”
“Yeah. We’ve been best friends since I first got hired to work with her in the Transfers office, three years ago.”
“And you’re missing out on Friends tonight to be here.”
“No worries. It’s a rerun. And I’m pretty sure Melinia understands.”
“What if you had a date on a Thursday night?”
Devon turned a little towards him, as they both leaned back against the couch, and they shared THAT look. The kind that means something more is being asked than what is really being said. “I don’t do dates on Thursday. Neither does Melinia…we agreed on it a LONG time ago. What about you and the guys? Do you guys do something together that can be interrupted by no one or no thing?”
“Unless you count one of our tours, or some legally binding contract…not really. We’re not even that close anymore, since this past summer. Lance went off to Russia with Greg and they just got back. Justin has his solo thing going and goes to most shows and interviews and everything by himself. Joey just finished doing Rent, although him and Justin did get together a lot since they both pretty much lived in New York. And Chris…well, he’s off running his own business. The one time we got together in the past six or seven months was to do a benefit concert in October, the night Greg was taken again.”
“What about you? Certainly you must be doing something while *NSYNC takes their break?”
JC shrugged. “I’m not sure what I’m doing. Sometimes I want to release a solo album, and then I spend all my energy and effort working towards that goal. And at other times…I guess I just want to relax. It’s been a LONG time since I had a break from work, and I kind of want to take advantage of it. But surely you know all this, it must have been in the file.”
“JC, I admit, I know a lot of facts about you. I know that you’re a scheduled person, I know that you hate to wake up in the mornings, I know that you have some…amazing piano talent…and that you took Greg to Disney World as soon as Lance and the kid returned from Russia. But I don’t know anything about how you feel when you play the piano. Or how happy or sad or jealous you were when you took Greg to the park. Everything I know is from a factual perspective, not from yours.”
“How did you know I was jealous of Lance that day I took Greg to the park? That was just a couple of weeks ago.”
Devon looked down at her feet…covered in JC’s sweat pants. “Wild guess, based on what I DO know about you. That’s something that I never understood from reading those files: why you haven’t gotten married yet. Out of all the guys, you’re the one who seems the most likely to have settled down with one girl already. Just reading about how much you worry about Greg…surely you want kids yourself one day.”
“Yeah. Of course I do,” JC agreed, nodding. Somehow, his arm had gone around her shoulders while they’d been talking. Maybe because he was a whole hell of a lot colder without his sweater. Maybe because he felt more comfortable around Devon than he’d felt around anyone in a longer time than he could remember. He didn’t know what it was, only that it felt right, his arm around her shoulders, her head resting against him. “You got that part of your assessment correct. But I don’t want a family with just anyone. I want to make sure that I’m doing the right thing when I finally do it…I mean, how many families end up as broken families these days?”
“You’ve been watching Lilo & Stitch,” Devon decided, smiling.
Grinning, JC nodded again. “Yup. Turns out Greg has a thing for Hawaiian girls. Who knew? But yeah, I can’t take failure in anything I do, especially not my family. Did you know that my grandparents have been married for fifty-some years?”
Devon shook her head against his shoulder. “That was one factoid not included.”
“Well they have been. And you should see them. They’re as disgustingly happy now as they have ever been. It’s almost weird to watch them; I mean, they’re my grandparents! And they act like teenagers around each other. They still go out on dates, and go dancing, and he takes her to the movies. They’re crazy, but that’s what I want.”
“I think that sounds rather nice. I was raised by my grandma, but she doesn’t sound anything like your grandparents. I used to think she was like a praying mantis, and had eaten my grandpa after they finished having sex.”
“Yeah, nice images there,” JC said, making a face.
“You know what I mean! I don’t think he was ever around. But my mom, I think she wanted what you want. But she was desperate for it. She met my father while waiting tables at one of the Vegas Casinos. He was some high roller from Europe, and I think she actually thought he would take her away, and they would live in a castle, happily ever after. It didn’t work out that way of course; like my grandma always said, there are no such things as happy endings. And my mom couldn’t handle that, losing her happy ending, trying to raise a child alone.”
“So you don’t believe in happy endings?”
Devon looked around the living room scene. Not too many happy endings here, that was for damn sure. And she had yet to find hers. Turning back to JC, she shook her head. “Nope.”
“That’s too bad. Because they are out there. I mean, look at my grandparents; they’re still delirious, half-a-century later.”
“Yeah. I guess that is a happily ever after story. I used to wish for those when I was a little kid. Beg my grandmother to tell me bedtime stories that were fairy tales and not horror tales. But I never got them. You were lucky to grow up with that.”
JC squeezed her shoulder. “Yeah. I was. But just you wait. One day, you’ll find your happily ever after.”
Giving him the “whatever” look, Devon shrugged as she settled closer to JC’s warmth. Damn, but the room was getting colder. “I guess I will. Well, technically, I hope I will. But hopes are dangerous, because I hate disappointments.”
“Who doesn’t? But if you don’t take the risk…”
“I know, I know. I’ll end up just like my grandma, old and alone, the Las Vegas witch.”
“The Las Vegas witch?”
“Yup. Everyone in my neighborhood knew who she was. You ever seen Practical Magic with Nicole Kidman and Sandra Bullock? Well, I grew up like that, with desperate people always showing up at our backdoor, begging for spells and such.”
“Which you don’t believe in.”
Devon looked up at him oddly. “No. No, I don’t believe in all that stuff. But how did you know?”
“For one, your tone when you talk about these ‘desperate’ people. And for another, well, you joined the FBI…there’s nothing too supernatural about the FBI.”
“Yeah…you’re right about that.” Devon looked down at JC’s other hand, wondering what he would do if she just grabbed it, pinned both his hands above his head, and had her wicked way with him. The images alone were enough to…she licked her lips.
“What are you thinking?” JC asked, noticing the slightly mischievous half-smile.
“Uhhh…” Devon stalled, still looking at his arm. She didn’t think he’d appreciate being taken down and roughed up, even in her fantasies; JC looked like a guy who would want to be in charge of…well, just about everything. Grabbing the first innocent thought that came to her mind, she blurted out, “That you’re probably really cold. You have goose bumps on your arm.”
JC shrugged. “I guess I do. It seems like it’s been getting colder in here.”
They looked up at the others in the living room. Mike, Tyson, and Lonnie were all rolled up in the blankets from upstairs and appeared to be dozing off. Justin had fallen asleep buried under some covers with Marissa on the loveseat. Lance was still sitting next to his son, and appeared to be deep in thought. Either that, or fighting to stay awake. Chris and Joey had fallen asleep in front of the fire, and Callaway was as alert as ever in his Lazy Boy.
Standing up slowly, still wary of wayward bullets, JC grabbed a blanket and tossed it over to Devon. Noticing that the fire was dying down, which had brought on his chills in the first place, he moved towards the fireplace, reaching automatically towards the wood pile they kept stacked up to the side, before he noticed that there was no firewood there.
Looking around, he noticed Lance shaking his head at him. “What? What does the head shake mean? Where’s the firewood?”
Lance pointed his deep-in-thought finger steeple towards the back door. “Out there.”
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