Lana stirred, trying to wake up. She heard men talking in the other room and thought it might be the TV. Their words prodded her to listen closer. She heard something about masturbating and blood typing. She turned in the bed and leaned her ear toward the door to listen better. Surely it was not a coincidence the TV had been tuned to a station talking about the same incident that happened yesterday.
What time was it? She glanced at the clock, and it read seven-thirty. The bathroom light was on, and she figured Mike had turned it on for her. She saw the glass of water on the nightstand and drank every drop. Everything seemed like a dream. She sat up in bed for a moment, trying to remember her day. The last thing she remembered was when they were leaving the jail.
She crawled out of bed and splashed some water on her face. She was shocked by her
reflection in the mirror. A black and blue goose egg covered the right side of her forehead. For the first time since she met Mike she was embarrassed by her looks. Regardless of how she looked, she wanted to know who had come to visit. She peeked out and saw several men with guns. What the heck? She took a deep breath and walked in the living room.
One of the men called for Mike.
"Hi babe, you should be in bed resting." Mike worried about her, she looked pale and frail.
"I'm better, can we talk?" She didn't know why all these men were standing around in the living room. They had to be football players, linebackers—they were giants. None of them looked at Lana. She thought it was because of the bump on her head, and they didn't know what to say.
"Sure honey, let's go in the bedroom. Excuse us guys. I'll be back in a few minutes." Mike placed his hand in the small of her back and guided her to the bedroom.
"Why are all these men here?" She asked while sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Well sweetie, we have a little problem. The blood type on the window doesn't match any of the men in jail."
Although she was groggy, the news hit her like a ton of bricks. "Umm … so, there's another guy?"
"Yes."
Here again, his short answers and she didn't want short answers. "Is that why there are gun-packing men out there?"
"Yes, these are the men who work for me, and they're here to help find this other guy. All this is just a precaution until we find out who broke into my house. We decided it was best to use the beach house as our headquarters. This allows you to rest."
"Maybe I'm stupid, but I don't get it. Who in the world would do something like this?"
"Honey I don't know. That's why I've called my team in to investigate, and we've already started."
"This whole situation is crazy. I don't know what to say. I can't imagine the sperm wasn't one of those three guys." She looked in Mike's eyes for answers. "Do you think it has anything to do with you?"
"Sometimes the bad guys do come after law enforcement, but it doesn't happen often." From years of questions from families, he knew not to give any more information than necessary.
"If they were after you, why didn't they kill us while we were making love? Who would go through all this trouble?" Her mind was fuzzy as she tried to comprehend all this new information.
"You can't predict what goes through their minds. It's a possibility they wanted to scare us, or it could even be a fluke, a random crime."
"If they were trying to scare me, they've done a good job."
"Until we see if we can match the blood type, we have to work every angle. Honey, I told you that I wouldn't lie—we even have to work the angle that someone might be after you."
"Me? I don't know why anyone would be after me?" Deep down she knew no one was after her. She also knew this was Mike's job to check that angle. She leaned her head on his shoulder needing some reassurance.
He didn't need any coaxing to put his arm around her. Worry devoured his rational
thinking… was someone after Lana? "Tonight I want you to rest since you already fainted once, and you don't need to do that again. When you're feeling better, why don't you come out and meet the team. I know they would love to meet you."
"I would love to meet them."
Mike looked at the big bump on her head. "Honey that is some goose egg. Does it hurt?"
"Yeah, but I think I feel worse from the drugs. One thing for sure about this medicine, it makes me hungry. I'm starving. Maybe the medicine made my metabolism off balance. I feel like I haven't eaten in a week."
"We ordered pizza if you're in the mood. But if you want something else, I'll send one of the guys to get it for you. I'm glad you have an appetite."
"Pizza sounds great. I'll walk out with you." She couldn't wait to meet the guys. They were a crucial part of Mike's life so they would be important to her.
All the men had left but two. The two men left were busy setting up computers and printers.
When she walked in the living room both men turned to her and nodded their heads. One man was Raymond whom she had already met, and she walked over and shook his hand. The other man was younger, buff and had a friendly smile. She walked over and introduced herself. "Hi I'm Lana Andrews, and you are…?"
"Joe Badger, ma'am. I've heard a lot of nice things about you."
"Oh really, well I'll have to talk to you later and find out what you've heard." She looked at Mike and winked. Immediately she knew she would like Joe. He was about six-foot-three with dimples, brown hair and brown eyes… about twenty-eight years old. His hair was longer than some of the older agents and slicked back like a gangster, making him stand out above the other officers. His personality was different from the other men. He seemed more kindhearted than the rest of the deputies.
"Uh-oh," he said while looking at Mike.
Mike grinned and winked at Joe as if to say, give her a hard time. But when Joe saw the giant goose egg on her forehead, he didn't have the heart.
On the kitchen counter, there were two boxes of pizza with only five slices left. She took the last slice of pepperoni, poured some diet Pepsi and sat down at the bar. The pizza was warm, and she was glad she didn't have to wait for it to cool.
Mike sat on the barstool next to her. "Is that all you're going to eat?"
"Yep, that's a lot for me. This is a large slice of pizza."
"I think I ate an entire box."
She took a bite of pizza and pointed at the boxes that were empty, about twenty. "How many men were here?"
"Six."
Her eyes widened. "Six of you ate all that pizza?"
"Joe ate three boxes by himself."
"Are you serious? Mike you're pulling my leg." She could tell by his bright eyes and grin that he was giving her a hard time.
"Yep, I'm teasing you. I think we had fifteen men here. They were coming and going all evening bringing computers and tables. So, I just ordered a bunch. Babe, do you want some medicine?" Her eyes looked lethargic.
"The medicine would make me feel better. But when I take it, I feel sleepy and hungry.
Would you love me if I gained weight?"
"Honey, you could gain a few pounds. Besides, I would love you no matter what. If you need some medicine, don't worry about sleeping. Since we're going to be up most of the night anyway, you might as well sleep."
She leaned over and asked softly, "If I do take some medicine, will I be in the way if I stay in the living room and talk with you all for a little while?"
"I'd love that. Honey, you can come in the living room any time you want. Or you can go to bed and watch TV if you want. You can also watch Netflix in the bedroom. You go wherever makes you feel comfortable."
About that time, Raymond walked in and poured himself some coffee. He was quiet, so she spoke first. "I bet you all go through a lot of coffee during your cases."
"Yes ma'am. Folgers loves us when we have an investigation going strong. In that sense, we're the true stereotypical cops. We even like donuts," he said while grinning.
Mike added, "We order a lot of pizzas as well."
Lana laughed as she looked at the stack of pizza boxes and shook her head in agreement. "I see that. How many do you all order?"
Mike and Raymond looked at each other.
Raymond looked at the ceiling trying to remember. "I think it was the Costella case when we ordered over three hundred boxes of pizza, and we only had four people working."
Lana toggled glances between the guys. "You're kidding, right?"
Mike raised his eyebrows and answered, "He's right. Pizza was the only decent food for miles. It was in a town called Matamoros Texas. We were there about six weeks, and we ate pizza for lunch and supper. I hated pizza for a long time after that job." He glanced at Raymond.
"I don't think we ordered pizza for several months after that case."
"At least seven months." Raymond cringed at the thought of how much pizza they ate. He rummaged through the empty box of donuts.
She suddenly realized he wanted something sweet, and she did too. It must be the medicine that made her have a sweet tooth. "How about I make a batch of chocolate chip cookies? Would you guys like some homemade cookies?"
"Yes ma'am, that sounds delicious," Joe answered from the living room.
"Let's see what we can do about that." She didn't think she had everything she needed for the cookies, but she could make some brownies. When she opened the cabinets and fridge, they were empty. What the hell? She looked bewildered.
Mike and Raymond looked at each other. "Babe we had all the food sent to the crime lab, everything in the cabinet and the refrigerator."
"Why?"
"Since we know someone was in the house we don't know if they did anything to the food.
We had to send it all to the crime lab for analysis. But if you want something sweet Joe can go to the store. Besides I don't want you to have to do a thing. Doctors orders, you need to rest."
"Mike you don't understand—cooking relaxes me. I do understand about the food, and I would be devastated if something happened to your guys. I sure could eat something sweet. Do you mind if we run to the store and get something to cook and get some more coffee and creamer? Besides, I could use some fresh air."
He could tell by the look in her eyes she was determined. Besides, the store was only a few miles up the road. "I don't mind taking you. Joe and Raymond can stay and watch the house." He remembered the medic telling him she needed fresh air. Getting away from the house would relax her.
Joe smiled and said, "I don't mind at all."
She could tell Mike didn't want her to go, but they did need supplies. His look did not deter her, she picked up her coat. "Are you ready?" She quickly made a mental note of everything she needed for cookies and breakfast. Sam's grocery was the closest, and she knew they had the basic ingredients.
"Yes ma'am," he said while grabbing her hand.
It felt good to get out of the house. The cold air woke her up and cleared her lungs. She took long deep breaths.
Mike knew every breath she took helped clear her head. Immediately he saw a change in her eyes, they were coming back to life.
Joe walked them out and stood on the porch as they drove away.
They got maybe a tenth of a mile when Mikes' phone talked to him.
Joe called him on his walkie-talkie. "Hey Mike, you may want to do a 311. A 412 is in progress."
Mike turned off his lights, slammed on his brakes and backed in between trees. The SUV
was dark and would be well-hidden.
"What is a 311 and a 412?" She asked.
"That's a code we use with our team. We are the only ones who know it, so if anyone listens in on our frequency they don't know our plan. A 311 is a car left with their lights off, and they are following us. The 412 means Joe is on his way to us as we speak. Raymond will stay at the house," he explained while watching the road.
"Joe stood outside listening?"
"Yes, we always listen when an agent leaves in case someone is following one of our cars.
That's one of the reasons we try to stay at isolated places, so we can hear and see what goes on around us."
"That's smart."
"Lana, I want you to take a close look at this car as it drives by to see if you know this person." Mike pulled his Glock from his side and held it just in case he needed it. Concern and guilt overwhelmed her. What if there were several people in the car, and they got out and shot at them.
"Okay. What do you want me to do if someone starts shooting?"
"Duck, and if you have to run—run toward Joe, he'll protect you."
The Explorer crept by, but the windows were too foggy to see anything. Mike instantly turned on his lights and darted out of their hiding place, chasing the SUV. "If you need a gun there's one in the glove box." If Lana wouldn't have been with him, he would have rammed the SUV, or at least pull out in front of it so he could stop them. He should have listened to his instincts and left her at home.
"Are you kidding me, what do you mean if I need a gun? You're going after him?" Oh God, not again! She held on for dear life, praying.
"Yep, we always want the upper hand." He knew she wouldn't understand the danger of it all. Like a fireman running into a burning building when everyone else runs the opposite direction, cops chase the dangerous guys when other people run away from them.
"If you need me to do something, let me know," muttered Lana.
"Shoot out his tires." Mike grinned, waiting for the shocked look she was about to give him.
"I thought I would shoot the gas tank and blow it to smithereens."
"Grab your gun Annie Oakley."
The man saw them chasing him, and he drove faster and faster. "Lana, get your cell phone and text the license plate to me." He had his phone and was talking to Joe. "Joe, Lana is texting me the license plate. We are in pursuit of a green Ford Explorer, maybe a 2001. Looks like only one person, but the windows are foggy."
Joe responded, "I'm right behind you and I see your tail lights not far ahead… copy that. Be careful, the road is slick."
Mike put both hands on the wheel as they slid side to side. He focused on his driving, when all of a sudden they spun out of control and hit a guard rail on a bridge, bounced off, then landed in the ditch.
"Are you okay?" He tried to drive out of their predicament, but they were stuck.
"Yes," she said.
"Hey Joe, I ditched the SUV. You need to hurry up and get here."
"I'm right here."
Mike and Lana got in Joe's SUV and started their pursuit of the Explorer, but it was long gone. They stopped, and Mike got out. He was pissed. "We should have had him."
Joe knew exactly what to say. "We have a license plate, make and model. We'll get him. The police will be here in a few minutes. Meanwhile, let's call in the license plate." Mike immediately looked up his text and Joe called dispatch.
She walked back to Joe's SUV and sat down.
When Mike calmed down, he walked over to her. "Are you okay? You look a little pale."
"I'm okay. I thought that was kind of fun, but I wouldn't want to do it again."
Joe interrupted, "The license plate came back registered to Eddie and Donna Borders. They live out here just a few blocks from you off Wabash road. My guess is he stole the Explorer.
Let's hope they're not home."
"We should head over there and call our crime scene investigators, just in case. We'll grab a few things at the convenience store then head over to the Borders' house," said Mike.
Joe called detective Quent, told him about the incident and about the Borders.
"Don't worry about me, I'll grab what they have. I know you need to work to catch this bastard," said Lana. Joe drove them to the store, and they grabbed some snacks, coffee, milk and water.
They were heading to Wabash road when Mike got a call from Quent. "Mike we can't get hold of the Borders, and we found your Explorer. No one was found around it, and it is being processed as we speak. We'll be there in about fifteen minutes. If you get there first, call me before you do anything—he might go back to the house."
"We'll be there in a couple minutes. I'll let you know what we find."
Wabash road was dark, and it didn't look like anyone was home at any of the houses. That was a relief for Lana. She had hoped the Explorer had been a vacation vehicle.
When they pulled up, Joe tried to position the SUV so the lights would shine on the house.
The angle of the house was higher than the road. This caused the headlights to reflect off the snow. "Lana, I want you to lock the doors, and if you see or hear anything, honk. Joe and I will be here in just a few seconds. Okay?"
"Yes, please be careful." She locked the doors and noticed they were careful not to step on the snow that had prints.
Joe knocked on the door, and they had their guns drawn. It was pitch black other than a little snow on the ground that reflected the headlights. When no one answered the door, Mike motioned for Joe to go around to the back of the house. He had been gone a long time, but after several minutes, she could see his flashlight before she saw him. Joe pointed to the back left side of the house. Mike shook his head side to side. Then he got out his phone and made a call. If she happened to be right about the body language, Joe found them dead.
To her right she could see police lights coming. Mike saw them too, and knew he would be busy when they arrived. He quickly walked back to the SUV. "Baby, we will be here for awhile, so Raymond is coming to get you. He'll take you back to the beach house and stay with you."
"How long do you think you'll be?"
"I think we will be at least a couple of hours."
She hated to ask, but she had to know. "Are they dead?
He looked in her eyes. "Yes." He had hoped she wouldn't ask. He stayed with her until Raymond arrived, which was only a few seconds. Mike opened the door for her and hugged her for a long time. Raymond just sat in his SUV, not saying a word. They walked around to the passenger door. He kissed her then set the bags of groceries in on the floor board. "Take good care of her. I'll be home in a couple of hours."
"Yes sir."
Within minutes, they were at Mike's beach house. When they turned the corner, Lana could see all the police lights.
"Wait here while I make sure everything checks out okay." He stepped out of the truck and thoroughly checked the house. His demeanor was totally different from Mike. Mike would give instructions on what to do if anything happened. He didn't say one word during their short ride to the house. It was obvious to her that he was the serious, quiet deputy.
While Lana made fresh coffee, she wanted to break the silence. "I see you guys work well together."
"Yes ma'am, Joe is the youngest of all of us, but he has caught on fast."
"I have to say I admire you guys and all the work you do. It amazes me how you all work as if this is everyday stuff. I'm stressed enough for ten people. Does your wife get stressed?"
"Sometimes she does, especially if we are in the field, and she doesn't hear from me for a couple of days. Not long ago we were serving a felony warrant in New Mexico. The guy we were staking out was literally in the middle of the desert. We had no phone service, so I couldn't call her. We were not allowed to break radio silence, so she worried a lot on that one."
Lana thought about how awful that would be not talking to Mike for two days. She missed him after two hours. "How does she handle it?"
"Prayer."
"I'm glad to hear that. I want to say I'm sorry you have to be here now and not with your family."
"My wife and I look at it like this, every minute I'm away from her I'm keeping her and other Americans safe."
"Wow, that's a great way to look at the situation." She would have to remember that for the future. "Raymond, why did you use the word Americans instead of citizens or people?"
"Our team is an anti-terrorism team, and we serve warrants. We were formed after September 11. It was a word our team decided to use as part of our terminology."
"So, why are you working this case?"
"Because of Mike, we normally don't work jobs that don't have anything to do with terrorism, but this is an exception."
"If you're on the anti-terrorism team, then why was Frank killed on a drug bust?"
"Well, we only tell the media what we want them to tell the public."
"That makes sense. Do you have many terrorists that are female?" She didn't know why she thought of that, and she expected him to say no.
"Not many, but the numbers keep rising. That makes it hard on us because we can't be gentle on them. People sometimes don't understand why we get rough with a woman. But, they can tote a bomb just as easily as a man. And they can fly planes as well."
"I guess I never thought about it that way. But you're right, in your business you can't trust anyone."
Her heart felt so proud to have men like Raymond and Mike protecting her. She now knew how the wives of the soldiers in Iraq felt. "I want to thank you for taking care of me."
"You are welcome," he softly said.
"Thank you for your honesty. If you don't mind I'm going to go to bed."
"Absolutely, just call me if you need anything."
"I will, and you do the same."