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“She’s pregnant,” the man offered. “Morning sickness.”
Rapp gave a slight nod, but didn’t respond. He wasn’t out to make polite conversation. His eyes scanned the man from head to toe as well as the woman. The man was also wearing a fanny pack, but his was spun around so it sat at the small of his back. There was something about him. A certain lean athletic quality. Broad shoulders, thin waist, developed legs, all three parts in balance. Rapp had worked with guys like him before. His thoughts turned almost immediately to the warning that had been passed along by the Jordanians that there was a price on his head, but they then turned almost as quickly to the new director of National Intelligence, Mark Ross. Could the man be so foolish as to send a couple of his people out here to collect intel on him?
The thought of Ross deciding not to back down got his blood going. Rapp stopped almost directly across the street from the two. His left hand remained poised only an inch from his gun. The weapon was chambered and hot.
“You need any help?” Rapp asked in as friendly a tone as he could muster.
“No, thank you,” the man said almost immediately. He glanced at Rapp and then returned his attention to the woman.
“Are you sure?” asked Rapp.
“Yeah. It’ll pass in another minute.”
“Do you live around here?” Rapp watched the man’s every move. He wished he would take his glasses off so he could see his eyes.
“No,” the man said. “Just visiting.”
“I live nearby. I can get my car and give her a ride.”
“No…no…thank you, she’ll be fine.”
“Where are you staying?”
The man hesitated and then offered, “Not far. A little bed and breakfast just up the way.”
As if on cue, the woman stood up and wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. She took a swig of water from her bottle and spit it out. She repeated the process three more times and then announced, “Oh, what we do for you men!”
Rapp smiled. He detected a slight French accent from the woman. If she was acting, she was doing a damn good job. Her skin was an awful pale shade of green. Rapp decided they didn’t work for Ross.
“I hope you feel better.” With that he started on his way again. His knee was getting worse with each step, and he wondered briefly if it wasn’t he who would need a ride. He checked back over his shoulder and caught the man quickly looking away. He probably recognized him from some of the unwanted media attention he’d received a few years ago. The couple got back on their bikes and started off, while Rapp hobbled along the shoulder with increasing difficulty.
By the time he reached the front porch, he was no longer able to bend or straighten his knee out of its slightly crooked position. Rapp grabbed the house key from the fanny pack. He glanced over both shoulders and then stuck the key in the first of two deadbolt locks. When the two locks were opened he grabbed the door handle and pulled. Rapp had personally reversed the house’s three door frames so they opened out instead of in. The front door, service door, and the frames were made out of steel and covered with a wood veneer. Anyone trying to break in would have to pack a lunch. All of the windows on the first floor were bulletproof. This was his first line of defense. It was what allowed him to decompress and sleep at night. It was a safe house in the literal sense of the word.
Rapp stepped into the foyer, and Shirley was right there with her tail wagging. He gave her a quick pat on the head before disarming the security system. After locking the door he turned the security system back on and limped into the kitchen where he found his wife sitting in her robe, reading the Post and sipping a cup of coffee.
Anna looked up at him, noticed the unusual pained expression on his face, and dropped the paper. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Rapp deflected her question with a shake of his head and continued to the sink.
“It sure the hell doesn’t look like nothing,” she said.
Rapp clutched the kitchen sink with one hand and poured himself a glass of water. “It’s my knee. It’s a little stiff…that’s all.”
Anna set her mug of coffee on the table. “A little stiff? Honey, remember who you’re talking to here. You look worse than when you were shot in the ass that time.”
Rapp took several gulps of water and then went fishing in a drawer near the sink for some Advil. “Yeah…well, you saw me two days after the fact. You should have been there when I was rolling around in the mud screaming like a little girl.”
Somehow she doubted he had acted anything less than manly. “Nice try. Tell me what’s wrong with your knee.”
“It’s nothing.” Rapp wrestled with the childproof cap and practically tore the bottle in half. “It’s just a little stiff,” he lied. “A couple of pills and some ice, and I’ll be fine.”
Anna folded her arms across her chest, offering Rapp an unintentional show of cleavage. She studied him for a moment and then asked, “What’s on your schedule today?”
Rapp succeeded in separating the cap from the bottle and threw three of the pills in his mouth. He chased it with water and steadied himself one more time. “Same old crap. I’ve got a few meetings at Langley and something I might have to do tonight…but I haven’t decided on that yet.” Knowing his wife’s reporter instincts, he knew he had to ask her a question before she fired another one at him. “How about you? How’s your day look?”
“I have a real slow morning.” She tilted her head and studied him.
Rapp watched as she shook her shoulder-length auburn hair off to one side and lowered her cute little chin. She locked in on him with her seductive emerald eyes and smiled. The warning bells started to sound as she walked toward him loosening the belt of her robe. Rapp stood frozen while two conflicting parts of his brain wrestled with the whole pain-pleasure principle.
