Part 47 (1/2)

Now she'd look out the security viewer. He squared his shoulders and looked directly back at the little hole in the door.

One lock clicked and then another, and the door swung open.

And holy f.u.c.k.

It wasn't Alyssa, it was Max Bhagat who was standing there, in a T-s.h.i.+rt and jeans that he'd probably just thrown on to answer the door, his usually neatly combed dark hair a total mess. He looked as if he'd spent the past hour or so with it pressed against a pillow. He was squinting slightly, and his chin was covered with stubble, which probably only meant that it had been four or five hours since he'd last shaved, instead of his usual meticulous two to three.

And here was a scenario Sam stupidly hadn't considered. Jesus, he was an idiot. Of course Max would be there.

When he stopped to think about it, the only truly shocking thing about this moment was Sam's realization that Max actually owned a pair of blue jeans.

He 'd known Max and Alyssa had been seeing each othera” okay, skip the euphemisms. They'd been f.u.c.king each other for months now.

He'd just never expected Alyssa would allow Max to be so indiscreet as to share her hotel room while they were on a.s.signment.

”She's okay,” Max told him quietly. ”She's sleeping now. It's been h.e.l.l for the past twenty-four hours, though. She was with Carla Ramirez and Jules Ca.s.sidy when ...” He shook his head. ”It was pretty touch and go for a while, but Ca.s.sidy's going to be fine. I can't say the same for Carla, I'm afraid.”

”Yeah, I heard,” Sam said. This was unreal. Was he really standing here having a conversation with Max in the doorway of Alyssa's hotel room? Just two guys shooting the s.h.i.+t. ”What happened?”

Max shook his head. There was no doubt about it, the man was f.u.c.king exhausted. He was completely drained. Sam recognized that look in Max's eyes. He'd seen it more than once in his own bathroom mirror.

”We stopped something very bad from happening today,” Max said quietly. ”You know I can't tell you more than that. I'm lucky we lost only one agent. The body count could've been much higher. Although try talking about that kind of luck with Darren Ramirez.”

Sam was taller than Max, and he could look over the man's shoulder into the hotel room. A dim light was on and he could see Alyssa tightly curled up beneath the covers of one of the two double beds, like a little kid. He could see her face, sweetly relaxed in sleep.

There was a chair next to the bed, as if Max had been sitting beside her, instead of lying with her under the covers.

Yeah, wishful thinking, Starrett. Max and Alyssa had been in that bed together, making love, not too long ago. Count on it. Maybe even just moments before he'd arrived. Maybe while he'd been standing out in the hall.

s.e.x was G.o.d's best medicine for hours of fatigue and anger. It started the healing process. And it sure as h.e.l.l took care of any extra adrenaline that might keep you from being able to fall asleep.

”She's really okay?” he asked, trying not to wonder if Max had ever kissed and licked his way across the curve of her waist. ”I heard she needed st.i.tches.”

”In her hand,” Max said. He ran his own hand through his hair as if just suddenly aware of how disheveled he looked. ”Why the h.e.l.l are you here, Starrett?”

”I don't know,” Sam said. ”I just... I heard about it, and I thought... I had to see her. I'm glad she's okay.”

Max nodded. He had eyes that were so dark brown, you couldn't tell the difference between the iris and the pupil. Sam had always thought of Max as calculating. Manipulative. Brilliant. Cold. But right now his eyes were warm and filled with empathy and understanding.

And Sam could imagine it. For the first time, he could actually picture Alyssa falling in love with Max Bhagat. Up to this moment, it had seemed impossible and absurd. How could she be with him? How could she be happy with someone like Max?

But now he could see that they were alike, Alyssa and Max. They were both a curious mix of hot and cool, of hidden emotions and carefully built facades.

s.h.i.+t, Max probably understood her in ways that Sam never would have, not if they'd stayed together for a hundred years.

And a hundred-year relations.h.i.+p hadn't exactly been part of Alyssa's agenda, had it now? What was it she'd said to him last time they'd sat down to talk? Even if they'd stayed together, if life and Mary Lou hadn't intervened, their love affair wouldn't have lasted more than a month or two. Yeah, she 'd said, I definitely would have gotten sick of you.

Not so Max, apparently.

”How's your wife?” Max asked. ”And it's a daughter you've got, right? What is she now, twelve months old?”

Sam nodded. ”Yeah,” he said. ”I know. I shouldn't have come.”

Max nodded, too, and started to close the door. ”I won't tell her you were here.”

Chapter 23.

It was late in the morning before Ihbraham's truck pulled up in front of the Robinsons' housea”hours later than he usually arrived to start work.

By the time he came, Mary Lou had already brought Donny his mail. She'd gone back and forth to his house about three different times, finding as many excuses as she could, bringing him a book she'd picked up at the library's yearly sale, bringing him the bag of burgers she'd brought home for him from work...

How many days ago had that been? It was back when he wasn't answering his door at all. But she'd put the sack in the refrigerator. Surely it had kept. And h.e.l.l, finally giving it to him was a reason to go over therea”to go back outside and be there when Ihbraham finally showed.

Eventually she ran out of reasons to keep bugging Donny, and she gave up and just brought Haley's playpen out into the front yard.

Maybe it wouldn't seem too obvious that she was waiting for Ihbraham to appear.

Yeah, and maybe Sam would come home from work tonight and announce that he was leaving the SEALs to join the San Diego Ballet.

Mary Lou sat up as Ihbraham got out of the cab of his truck. He looked at hera”he definitely saw her sitting there on her front stepsa”but he didn't even wave. He just went to the back of his truck and lifted a large potted shrubberya”some kind of pretty flowering plant in an ornate clay containera” from the bed. He carried it effortlessly to the Robinsons' front stoop and set it down.

As she watched, he went around to the hose that was attached at the side of the house, turned on the water, brought the hose to the front, watered the plant, brought the hose back, turned off the water, re-coiled the hose.

And then he returned to his truck without another glance in her direction and climbed back behind the wheel.

The engine turned over with a roar, and he drove away.

Mary Lou was up on her feet, heading out to the street before she could stop herself. ”Hey!”

He must've been watching her in his rearview mirror, because his brake lights went on, and the truck stopped.

He just sat there for a moment, absolutely still.

And Mary Lou stood there, watching him, her heart in her throat.

His back-up lights came on as he put the truck into reverse. The engine whined as he pulled all the way back, until he was alongside of her.

Mary Lou checked to make sure Haley was still happily engaged with her pile of toys before she moved closer to Ihbrahamas open window.

”I made some iced tea,” she told him. ”I don't suppose I could talk you into taking a break and having a gla.s.s?”

He shook his head. ”Thank you, but no. I can't.”

Can't. ”Wow,” she said. ”So that's it, huh? I don't put out, and you don't want to be my friend anymore? Is that what's going on here, Ihbraham?”

' Ihbraham looked out the front winds.h.i.+eld of his truck and sighed, no doubt wis.h.i.+ng that he hadn't bothered to stop. ”You know in your heart that that's not true.”