Chapter Six
An hour after Mendoza had pulled out his gun, there was still no sign of the Cougar, although the luxury cabin was starting to come alive again.
A small face peered over the side of the couch at JC and Devon, a small chubby hand accompanying it. Little Greg Bass rubbed his eyes and yawned before waving. “Hi, Uncle C. Who’s that?”
Devon waved back at the kid. “Hey, Greg. I’m Devon. A friend.”
The little boy nodded. “Okay.” He sat up and started shaking Lance. “Dad, Dad. Get up. We decorate tree, ‘member? You promised!”
Lance groaned as he stretched, rolled over, and fell off the couch. “Oof. I didn’t promise you anything about a tree, Greg,” he said, yawning.
Greg started jumping up and down on the rest of the recently vacated couch. “Uncle Chris did.” He took a flying leap off the couch and landed next to Chris, quickly losing his balance and toppling over onto his uncle’s stomach. “Chris, time for tree!”
Chris muttered something under his breath before dragging his blanket over his face. “When we all wake up. Do I look like I’m awake?”
Greg pulled the blanket back down and lifted his uncle’s eyelids. “Uh-huh.”
Laughing, Devon turned to JC. “Does he always wake up this hyper?”
JC nodded. “That’s how we know he’s Lance’s son. He has no problems with getting up in the morning.”
Soon Greg had woken everyone in the room up, except Marissa, whom the little boy wouldn’t go near. But he had walked over and tugged on Justin’s arm until he, like Lance, fell off the couch and woke up. Lance was always two steps ahead of his son, putting the candles out of the little boy’s reach, making sure he had on at least two layers of clothing, keeping Monopoly pieces away from the kid’s hands and mouth. All of the guys glared at Callaway when he refused to put his loaded gun out of the toddler’s reach, keeping it in plain sight.
Devon supposed she couldn’t really blame him. This was his high profile dream case and with Mendoza dead, he was carrying it alone. It was his time to shine, the only problem being that the assailant was still deadly and still out there.
Watching everyone through tired eyes, Devon couldn’t believe that she had stayed up all night, talking with JC. Good Lord, she was tired now. She tried to keep her eyes from drifting closed as she leaned her head against JC’s shoulder, but the effort was almost too much for her. JC, finally seeing her tired state, eased himself away from her, stood up, and held out a hand to her.
Although she glared at him for not letting her just fall to the floor and sleep, she accepted his help and stood up.
“So, feel like making some hot chocolate?” JC asked, as he held her hand and led her toward the kitchen.
Devon glared at him. “Hot chocolate? Thanks, I’ll take some coffee.”
JC gave her a cheeky smile. “All out. One of the replacements was supposed to bring it up this morning, but it looks like it still might be awhile before it gets here.”
Groaning, Devon agreed to the offer of hot chocolate as she filled two small tea kettles with water and lit the propane stove. JC grabbed a box of hot chocolate and a bag of tiny marshmallows from one of the kitchen cabinets. After Devon had hopped up onto the counter to keep her near-bare feet off the cold tiles of the kitchen floor, she realized JC needed to get into the cupboard behind her to pull out the mugs for the drinks.
Eyebrows raised, she waited to see what JC would do if she didn’t move out of his way, a million and one sexy scenarios running through her head. Oh yeah, adrenaline and exhaustion were wreaking havoc on her sense of judgment, if she was contemplating sexy situations with JC in the kitchen while ten people ran around in the living room ten feet away and a killer ran around outside, God only knew how far away.
JC cocked his head as he looked at her, contemplating the cupboard behind her. Oh God, had she really just thought cocked, head, and JC all in the same sentence? Where the hell had the logical, serious Devon gone in the last five minutes?
Obviously, completely crazy, she realized as she watched JC inching closer to her, and still didn’t move out of his way.
Closer…closer…until he was comfortably between her thighs, his hand running up the side of her leg, towards her hip. She wondered if he would really pull her closer or if this was a teasing game, where he would disinterestedly reach for the coffee mugs just when she thought he would grab her.
And unfortunately, it was not for her to find out, she realized, as a tiny toddler ran into the kitchen, jumped onto JC’s leg and started pulling on his pants.
JC quickly took a step back, leaving an almost respectable distance between him and Devon, then looked down at the kid.
“Joey said come get hot chocolate. Is it ready yet?” The kid started hopping up and down in place, anxiously waiting for his hot chocolate and marshmallows.
JC and Devon both looked into the living room, where Joey gave them an innocent, yet evil, wave.
“Yeah, sure Greg. Devon was just helping me get out the cups for everyone. You go wait in the living room with your dad and I’ll bring it out to you. Get started on the tree!” he called out as the kid made a beeline back to his dad and uncles in the living room.
“Great…I bet THAT never happened in one of Joey’s movies. Somehow, the horror films I remember watching always have an uninterrupted sexy scene,” Devon complained.
JC grinned. “I guess ours is just yet to come.”
Giving him a teasing grin, Devon raised one eyebrow. “Is that a promise?”
JC nodded as he looked her up and down. “Indeed it is.”
“I’m gonna hold you to it,” Devon warned, as she reached behind her, opened the cupboard and started passing mugs onto to JC, who placed them between the stove and the hot chocolate supplies.
She sat on the counter until it was time to move the hot chocolate from near the stove to the counter separating the kitchen and the living room.
As JC led her back into the living room, Devon stopped suddenly. Watching the scene in front of her, she didn’t even notice her cold feet, glued to the kitchen floor. The guys, Greg, the bodyguards…they were all so…happy.
Greg had insisted on being lifted onto Tyson’s shoulders, to see if he could be taller than the tree (which he wasn’t). Justin had woken Marissa himself, and they sat on their same loveseat, huddled together to ward off the chill of the early morning, both smiling the private smile of two people still in the happy stage of cupid’s arrow. Lance and Joey sat on the living room floor, in front of the empty fireplace, doing their best to untangle the many strings of Christmas tree lights that had been provided for them. Mike and Lonnie were arguing over whether the angel or the star should go on top of the tree. And Chris was trying to convince Tyson to let HIM up onto the bodyguard’s shoulders to see if he was any taller than the tree.
So this was what Christmas looked like in normal households…
Had Devon been an uninformed outsider, she would have assumed that these were people with not a care in the world except for making sure that their Christmas tree looked perfect. Nobody seemed to notice that they could almost see their breath inside the cabin. Or that their only sources of light were the candles spread about the room. And if she hadn’t seen Lance dart a look towards the back door every once in awhile, it would have seemed like no one in the room was worried about the psycho stalker-killer on the loose outside their seemingly safe haven.
Well, except for Callaway, she thought, as the Agent still sat in his chair, in watchdog position. Mike had changed his bandage right before Greg had woken up (and woken everyone else up), so Devon knew that he was still losing large amounts of blood, though one would never have been able to tell; the Agent looked as alert and healthy as ever.
“Hey, Dev, you okay?”
Snapped back into reality, Devon looked up at JC and smiled. “Of course. I was just…thinking that this was the way Christmas was supposed to be.” Since she had already told JC that her grandmother hadn’t been into Christmas, and that the only thing Devon and Melinia did every year was to eat at a fancy place and exchange a present on Christmas day before they went back to her apartment to watch whatever marathon was on one of the cable channels, he understood and didn’t question it or offer weak platitudes that were supposed to make her feel less of a loss.
Instead he grabbed her hand with one of his own, grabbed two mugs of hot chocolate with the other, and tugged her the rest of the way into the living room, sitting on the large couch with her.
“Lance, toss me a tangle!” Growling and frustrated, Lance threw part of the mess that he and Joey already had separated at JC. “Here you go,” he told her with a smile as he passed the jumbled lights onto her lap.
She looked at them in consternation. Just how in the hell did one go about untangling these things, anyway?
**********
The Cougar watched them through a crack between the window frame and the cardboard they had put up to keep him out. Yeah, right. As if they were so much smarter than he was. He was the Cougar for crying out loud, the one they had feared for almost a year now. And they thought a little piece of cardboard would be able to stop him?
He knew their every move, their every emotion. When Lance smiled as his son put the angel on top of the tree, the Cougar grimaced in disgust.
And pain. He longed for those days, for days when he’d had what they had.
Well, it didn’t matter. Because of them, he had lost what he had loved most in the world. Now it was their turn to suffer. He had waited all night…After all, where was the fun if one couldn’t see them suffer? No, this had been the best way, to wait until they had reached the levels of supreme happiness again. To wait until they thought he wouldn’t possibly have time to attack before the Calvary arrived. To wait until the exact moment that they thought they were safe. Then it would be time to strike.
**********
Devon put the tinsel on the tree like it was real silver, JC noticed, watching her hang the sparkly decoration with care. As though it were the most important job in the world, she was putting the finishing touch on the tree, working with Greg to finish it off. While Devon carefully hung a single piece at a time, Greg threw globs of the clingy stuff at the tree, hoping it would land someplace and stay stuck. Every once in awhile, Devon would inconspicuously follow behind him, unclumping the silver mess.
“Seven swans a swimming, six geese a laying, five golden riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiings! Four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree!” Joey sang. Without electricity, having no CD player to play their Christmas CDs, he and Chris were alternating verses on different Christmas carols.
“On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,” Chris continued the tune. “Eight…ducks in a row, seven-”
Lance gave him a disbelieving look as he handed Greg small handfuls of tinsel. “Eight ducks in a row, Chris?”
Shrugging, Chris nodded enthusiastically. “I don’t remember the other verses, and ducks fit with geese and swans. “Eight ducks in a row, seven swans a swimming, six geese a laying, five golden riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiings!” On each verse, they tried to outdo the other on holding the last note of the “rings” line. JC cringed and waited for him to continue. “Four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree.”
Joey’s turn. “On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, nine Broadway dancers…”
Yeah, they were alternating verses…of course, it would have been better had they actually known the REAL verses. As it was, it seemed to JC that he had heard every parody of every Christmas song thus far. Heck, they could probably sell their verses to the Bob Rivers Comedy group…
“Uncle C, Uncle C, I like this one!” Greg was tugging on his pants leg again, holding up a Snoopy ornament for JC. “Hang it high!”
“You sure you don’t want me to lift you up there to hang it?” JC asked, trying to hand it back to the kid.
Greg shook his head. “Nope. I have tinsel. Hang it there!”
JC looked at the spot of the tree in question, right above Devon’s head. “Okay, kiddo.” Standing behind Devon as she carefully separated strands of tinsel and laid them across the pine branches, he stretched on his toes to reach the spot Greg had pointed to.
“Uncle C, Uncle C, look up!” Greg called out gleefully.
JC glanced skyward and saw the mistletoe hanging above him and Devon. Glancing suspiciously at the kid, he then turned to Joey, and found him smiling gleefully. He rolled his eyes at Joey’s oh-so-subtle machinations.
Slowly putting his hands on Devon’s hips, he leaned into her, whispering into her ear. “Well, we seem to have been maneuvered towards the mistletoe.”
Devon whirled around, surprised to find him behind her; she had been so intent on draping the tinsel, she hadn’t even noticed him coming up behind her. “Hi. Now what was this about mistletoe?”
Greg answered her question. “You’re under the mistletoe!”
Raising her eyebrows, she looked from Greg to JC. “He knows what mistletoe is?”
JC blushed. “Ah…Justin’s been dragging Marissa under it every chance he gets, so we kind of explained it to Greg.”
“Hmm…Well, we wouldn’t want to make liars out of you and the guys, now would we?” she asked as her arms went around his neck. Oh, the wonders of mixing adrenaline and exhaustion…leading to being uninhibited in situations like this…She pulled his head down, slowly, gently.
Finally! Good Lord, but the man had the sexiest mouth she’d ever seen, and now, she was finally getting to taste it…
Okay…well, maybe not quite the way she wanted, Devon realized as she remembered the three-year-old that they had for an audience. She pulled back after he’d placed a beginning, gentle first kiss on her mouth, and spared the kid a glance. He was watching them like they were the best entertainment he’d had in a long time. He clapped when JC put a little distance between them.
Great. She had a three-year-old cheering for her and JC’s kiss. She felt like a Disney cartoon character.
“Hey, guys, the snow’s starting to slow down!” Joey called out from the back door, which he had cracked open and looked out to see the snow drifting down, a lot lighter than the wind-driven blizzard it had been all night.
JC and Devon looked at each other. It looked like the night was almost up. Although the sun had begun to rise, it failed to shed much light in the cloud-covered area. Devon glanced at her watch to see if they really had made it through the night.
Almost ten o’clock in the morning. Wow. The night was indeed over. The FBI agents couldn’t be far behind the lighter snow. Devon could just imagine how panicked all the G-men in Carson City had become when they’d lost contact with the cabin.
Now that the fear of the Cougar was almost past, it was time for her to face her other fear. She had to go to the bathroom.
A candle had been placed on the kitchen counter, for those needing to go to the bathroom, and Devon’s gaze swung between the candle and the closed bathroom door. She could do this, she knew she could. Even with the feeble outside light, some light had to be coming through the glazed bathroom window by now.
“Devon, you okay?” JC asked, looking at her determined expression. She nodded slowly. She could do this.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just have to go to the bathroom.”
JC looked…lost. He knew what had gone on in the bathroom before, and she could only imagine what he must be thinking. Wondering if she would be able to go in. Thinking about how she had freaked out earlier. She had told him about her childhood Bloody Mary bathroom experience, so he knew WHY she was so scared of going in there.
Obviously undecided on what he might be able to do to help her, he offered, “I’ll stand just outside the door…”
Devon nodded. Yeah, it would be helpful to know that he was right there. Moving slowly, she stopped before the bathroom door, holding the candle. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open. With the candlelight glow from the rest of the cabin, the barely-there stream of light coming in the window, and the candle she was holding, the bathroom didn’t look like a thing of nightmares. Sink, toilet, shower, towel shelf…mirror.
She willed herself not to throw JC a last, desperate “help me” glance and closing the door behind her, started chanting to herself, I can do this, I can do this, I can do this…
Doing everything in her power to avoid looking in the mirror, she kept her back to it, and inched past. No scary thoughts, no scary thoughts…
A noise in the room spooked her. Oh God, was she hearing things now?! First seeing glowing green things of nightmares in the bathroom mirror, and now hearing bumps in the night.
I can do this, I can do this, I can do this…
The shower curtain moved and she started to hyperventilate. Oh God, she couldn’t do this, she couldn’t do this, she couldn’t…
Oh shit…she’d never heard noises in her nightmares before! Her eyes darted to the shower as a man stepped out holding a gun.
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