Chapter 39

 

Devon sat absently flipping through the channels on the TV with the remote, hoping something on the box might catch her attention for a couple of hours.  No such luck.  Even the movie channels were showing old B rated flicks and Devon wasn’t the type to sit and mindlessly watch whatever was on the screen just because.  After cycling through the channels three times without success, she snapped off the set and strode across the apartment to the kitchen.  Jerking the refrigerator door open, she grabbed a Heineken, popped the top and drank a long drink.  She flipped the cap into the trash can as she passed the breakfast bar, restlessly pacing. 

 

Glancing up at the clock on the wall above the sink, she sighed heavily.  Eight thirty.  Friday night.  Usually, she and Mac would play cards or catch a movie or even go to a club with some of the ladies from the team, but her friend had been gone two weeks and Devon was feeling the loss of her companionship.  Mac had called to say that she had arrived in Tampa and things were going well and Devon was happy for her.  When Mac heard the edge in her voice, she had encouraged her younger friend to go out, but Devon had balked at the idea. 

 

“What would be the point?”  She had asked. 

 

Mac laughed, “What was the point of you introducing me to Ann? You said I needed to get out, remember?”

 

“Yeah, well…” Devon’s voice trailed off. 

 

“You don’t have to marry anyone, Dev.  Just let yourself have some fun.  Believe me I know what you’re feeling.  You need to take your own advice.  So what’s wrong with enjoying some adult company?”

 

Swallowing the remainder of the beer, Devon considered that statement.  Adult company.  Looking around the empty apartment, she considered her options.  She could stay home, watching some stupid movie or re-read a novel.  She could get in the car and drive to Pittsburgh.  No, it would be midnight when she arrived and her sister and the kids would be asleep.  There was a good possibility that someone she knew would be out at the club; she could hang out awhile and have a couple beers.  With another sigh, she tossed the empty beer bottle into the trash and headed upstairs to change. 

 

At nine thirty-five Devon parked her jeep in the parking lot a block from the club and tried to remember why she thought this was a good idea.  She wasn’t the type to go out alone and she considered pulling back out of the lot and heading home again.  I’ll just have a beer and see if anyone else is here, if not I’ll head out.  She hopped out and walked purposefully toward the doors of the club before she changed her mind.

 

Devon entered the club and was immediately enveloped in the pulsing beat of the music and dim lights of the interior.  The lights of the dance floor flashed in time to the music, irregularly illuminating the dancers and casting multicolored shadows around the rest of the space.  Devon climbed onto an open bar stool and signaled the bartender.  The pretty brunette responded immediately, taking in the striking blonde who just graced her service area. 

 

Devon ordered a beer and couldn’t help but notice the bright smile the woman gave her as she delivered her order.  The woman’s dark eyes held hers and her hand lingered momentarily, lightly touching Devon’s on the bar before lifting the five dollar bill and heading for the cash register.  As Devon took a drink from her beer, she saw the woman watching her in the mirror behind the bar. 

 

“That’s yours,” Devon told her when she returned with the change.   

 

“Thanks, darlin’, look me up when you get thirsty again.”  The playful brown eyes danced.

 

“I will,” Devon nodded and turned on the stool to face the rest of the club, surveying the patrons.  After a few minutes, she heard some laughter and shouts that were loud enough to be heard over the music.  Looking in the direction of the commotion, she recognized several members of the team raising their glasses in a toast of some kind.  One of the women at the table saw her and waved her arm in the air, beckoning Devon over to join them. 

 

“Hey, girl!”  A petite Hispanic woman wearing a red polo shirt and jeans shouted, as she gave Devon a warm hug.  Carmen Santiago was a physical therapist and the Sergeant First Class in charge of the PT rehab at Walter Reed.  She had pushed Devon to her limits in the gym during her first six months back from Beirut and Devon would forever be grateful to Carmen for a quick and full rehab of her injured arm and leg.

 

“Hi Carmen,” Devon returned the embrace.  Carmen’s skin was a rich bronze color from hours spent outdoors.  Her smile was contagious and Devon grinned back. 

 

Carmen’s girlfriend, Elaina, stepped in between the two and slid an arm around both women’s waists.  “Oh, my,” Elaina cooed playfully, “ain’t I the envy of every woman in this bar right now, holding the two most beautiful women in the place.” Her hand slid down to Devon’s rear and slapped playfully before squeezing, causing the blonde to jump and a blush to darken her face a deep red. Laughing, Elaina kissed Devon on the cheek and released her. 

 

“How come you don’t come around more often, Dev? You need to get out more.” Carmen gestured toward the empty chair at their table, indicating that Devon should sit. 

 

“I don’t know Carmen, we’re a bit busy at work,” Devon offered a lame excuse.

 

Carmen shook her head, “A girl has to get out, chica…” she raised her hands palms up as she shrugged.  They moved toward the table where the rest of the Army softball team sat consuming pitchers of beer.  The others called out greetings as Devon took the empty seat, turning the chair around so that the back was in front of her and she rested her forearms on top.  She found herself drawn into their jovial celebration, as they discussed the previous week’s game, complained good naturedly about their bosses, and speculated about various women in the bar. 

Throughout the evening, Devon looked toward the bar and each time, the woman tending bar seemed to be looking her way.  Several of the women at the table went to ask someone to dance and others made their way to the pool tables.  Devon headed back to the bar to order another beer, smiling appreciatively at the sight of Carmen and Elaina on the dance floor who were flawlessly moving together in a sensual style.  She was startled when she felt something cold touch the side of her hand.  

 

“This one’s on me, honey,” the brunette was leaning over the bar toward her, so close that if Devon leaned in just slightly their lips would meet.  Devon’s blue eyes met the dark gaze before allowing her own to wander over the rest of her upper body visible above the bar.  Her rich brown hair fell in ringlets around her tanned face; her full, rose colored lips were pulled up in a mischievous grin, causing a deep dimple to form on the left side of her mouth.  She was wearing a black leather vest that buttoned just below her full breasts, revealing the exposed cleavage as she leaned over the bar. 

 

“Thanks, but you should take this,” Devon picked up the beer and slid another couple of bills across the bar. 

 

The woman placed her right hand on Devon’s bare forearm. “I’m Tammy.” She was smiling again and Devon found her smile engaging. 

 

“Devon,” She found herself smiling as well. 

 

“Don’t go away, Devon,” she held up a hand to acknowledge a customer who was shouting for a drink.  “I’ll be right back.”  Tammy ran her hand along Devon’s forearm as she moved away. 

 

Devon followed with her eyes, noting the tight black jeans that enclosed a shapely bottom.  She’s very attractive.  In spite of her earlier intentions to cut out early, Devon felt an unexpected urge to stay.  There was an open invitation in the woman’s expression, with no hint of reservation.  Devon had never been cruised before, at least that she was aware of, and the feeling was a bit flattering and exhilarating.  No strings, no expectations, just pure physical attraction. What’s wrong with a little adult company?  She smiled as she heard Mac’s voice in her head and thought now how right her friend was, wondering why she had never considered it before.  Her pulse quickened as she imagined the feel Tammy’s hands on her skin. 

 

In the far corner of the bar, Susan sat observing her target.  The softball team had come and gone and now she watched with interest as Lieutenant James sat conversing with the bartender.  All night long she watched the interaction between the two women.  She had to admit she was a bit surprised, never had her subject shown any inclination to engage in such spontaneous activity.  Susan briefly wondered if they had missed something along the way.  Did James know this woman?  The last time she had seen her at the club; did she see her talking with the woman? 

 

She wished that this connection had been made with one of the military women.  That would be much easier to expose.  Susan watched the bartender begin cleaning up the bar and looked at her watch, noting it was one fifty-five.  The house lights would come up soon and with the bar now virtually empty, she was in danger of being spotted by James, so she slipped out with a group of young local women. 

 

Once outside, she puzzled over what to do.  She had come to the club on a whim, not really expecting to see the lieutenant out tonight, so she had no back up.  At this time of the night, following her home or wherever she was going seemed to be out of the question.  She would take a few photos from her car parked down the block.  At least with the photos and a few discreet inquiries later, they could identify the bartender and attempt to question her. 

 

Susan need not have worried.  When the two women exited the club, they walked directly to the Jeep with hardly a look around.  Susan snapped pictures as the jeep passed.  She turned around in her seat to take a few more when they turned onto the street behind her, but what she saw in the telephoto lens changed everything that she thought she was going to do that night. 

 

Adjusting the focus on two figures exiting a vehicle at the other end of the block, Susan confirmed what she thought she saw.  Instinctively she began taking pictures of the pair.  When the disappeared inside a nondescript warehouse type building she drifted her car down the block, stopping two doors down.  Nothing about the building gave the slightest indication about what was inside.  The large metal door opened and pounding music could be heard from within.  She watched for an hour, noting that although some patrons were alone and some in pairs, they all had one thing in common.  They were all men. 

 

 

 

 

 


 

Chapter 40

 

Devon dug her security badge out of her back pocket and dropped it around her neck as she pushed through the double glass entry door of the building just before 2000 hours.  On a Friday night, the majority of the first floor and offices and administrative areas were closed for the weekend, only the interior intelligence centers were alive and teeming with activity regardless of the day or hour.  She moved quickly through the empty corridors and upstairs to the now familiar work area of the direction finding unit. 

 

Having come right from the October softball tournament, Devon was still in her uniform, only changing out her cleats for sneakers in the Jeep. Her grey uniform pants were stained with clay and grass from the fielding ground balls.  Her hair was unruly and windblown.  She normally wouldn’t show up at work looking quite this grungy, but Ann was so excited about the intelligence information the team had gathered that Devon had to rush right over to check it out. 

 

Two weeks prior, another attack had occurred at the U.S. Embassy annex just northeast of Beirut, killing 24 people, two of them U.S. military personnel. Devon stayed in the building virtually every waking moment since that time and tonight’s game was one of the few diversions she had allowed herself.  She knew from her time in Beirut the areas that Hezbollah controlled in Lebanon and had instructed her unit that identifying and locating targets in those areas were the highest priority.  Finding those bastards so that the U.S. military could bring them to justice was personal for their lieutenant, and every member of her unit knew it.

 

She saw Ann training a young airman recently assigned to their unit.  Enjoying the excited look on the young man’s face, Devon stepped alongside Ann to observe the lesson and his obvious eagerness to learn.  Ann glanced briefly up at Devon, smiling at her dirty appearance.  A second later he recognized her. 

 

 “Hello, ma’am!”  The poor youngster practically shouted as sprang from his chair so quickly that he lost his balance.  Devon just managed to grab him by the arm to keep him from pitching back onto the floor.  The chair did tip over with a low thud. The airman’s face flushed nearly purple, “Sorry, lieutenant,” he muttered, unable to look at her. 

 

“It’s okay, Kevin.  Please, relax, okay?”  She flashed her trademark electric smile at him, her eyes kind, “You’re doing fine.”

 

Pulling her NCO aside, she asked, “Ann, you want to bring me up to speed? Please tell me you have something good.  I’m going to need hard evidence to convince the colonel to listen to me about moving up these terrorist groups in our priority order.”

 

From behind them, a deep voice came from the outer office area, “Lieutenant James.”  Devon turned at the sound of the colonel’s voice, feeling a chill in her spine. “I’d like a word with you.”

It was not a request.  Devon flashed a quick look at Ann who was shooting daggers at their boss with her eyes.  When Ann’s eyes moved back to Devon, the lieutenant nodded slightly as if to reassure her friend it would be alright.  She wished she believed that herself. 

“Yes sir,” Devon responded perfunctorily and strode surely in his direction, following him through her work area into his large private office. 

 

“Close the door behind you, lieutenant.”  He sat behind the desk in the black leather chair, assuming a very formal posture.  His elbows rested on the desk, his big hands steepled in front of him, his face set hard as his dark eyes stared at her. 

 

Devon stood between the two straight backed chairs in front of the desk, aware that he had not invited her to sit.  Her hands were clasped behind her back, her expression neutral, cool blue eyes holding his. She stood silently.  Waiting.  She knew exactly what he was going to talk to her about. 

 

After a full minute passed, Jefferies indicated the chairs with a quick jerk of his right hand. “Sit.”  He watched the female lieutenant sit, noting with irritation that her posture was businesslike and confident.  He was used to his presence and rank intimidating subordinates, especially women.  He could always count on a bit of healthy fear to drive home the lesson that it was his show, and although he could do nothing about the law allowing women to enlist, men ran the Army.  As he watched James, he saw no hint of intimidation in her demeanor, and that pissed him off. 

 

“Lieutenant, I am sure that I made myself very clear as to your appearance and the attire that I expect you to wear whenever you are in my work area.”  He cast a disgusted look at the uniform.  “And yet, you persist in violating my direct order.  You have an explanation?” 

 

Eyes never leaving his, Devon said simply, “I am off today, sir.  However, Petty Officer Baxter had some success with an intercept that we matched with other intelligence and cross referenced with our fixes—”

 

“Is that part of the job description for either of you?”  He snapped at her before she could finish her sentence.  His eyes were black with anger as he leaned toward her, staring hard. 

 

“Sir, if I may,” Devon began again calmly, “This is the innovative work that our unit began last year.  Colonel Brinkman gave the go ahead for the project before I left for Beirut. Now that I’ve returned, I had hoped to proceed and—” Jefferies’ hand slammed down on the desk, silencing her. 

 

His face was completely rigid and his eyes expressed every ounce of his contempt for her.  When he spoke his voice was glacially cold, “I am only going to say this once.  Colonel Brinkman is no longer running this unit.  You will stick to the job description in the SOP.  I do not tolerate insubordination from my junior officers, and I intensely dislike cockiness,” He drew a deep breath, eyes still drilling into hers. “I am still waiting for an explanation about your unprofessional attire.”

 

“First, let me assure you, colonel that it is not my intent to be insolent, I only want to push our unit to improve every day.”  Jefferies eyes narrowed.  “As to my dress, colonel, I am off, but when Baxter asked that I come in to assist her, I was excited about her work, so I came right from the…game.” She heard Jefferies give a disgusted grunt. “I didn’t think there would be any harm on a Friday night. I was only planning on staying a few minutes.”

 

“You are an officer twenty-four seven and as such you are supposed to set an example.”  

 

Undaunted, Devon pressed, “Sir, with all due respect, I believe that responding to my NCO’s request and coming in on my day off to recognize my team’s outstanding efforts is setting a good example, regardless of my attire.” As an afterthought she added quietly, “Leadership is about people, not rules.”

 

Jefferies sat still as a statue, save for his clenching jaw and the veins bulging in his neck that was turning deep red as he struggled to control his rage.  This dyke bitch dares to lecture me about leadership?!  He shoved his large frame out of his chair, slamming his palms down on the desk and leaned menacingly at Devon.

 

His voice shook with fury as he yelled, “Just who the hell do you think you are?”  Devon winced as spittle flew from his mouth in her direction. “Consider this your first disciplinary report, James.  I’m not going to put up with your disrespect. You will not enter this building unless you are wearing proper attire, regardless of whether you are on duty or not.  You will refrain from deviating from normal procedures when managing this unit.  Do I make myself perfectly clear on both issues?”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

“You are dismissed.”

 

Devon stood without another word and stalked to the door.  As soon as she appeared in the doorway of the operations area, all of the enlisted people were staring at her wide-eyed.  Devon shrugged and forced a smile for their benefit, “He was mad ‘cause I got a little mud on his carpet.”  No one laughed.  “Well, don’t let me interrupt your work; I’ll just let myself out.  Keep up the good work, guys.” She waved a hand in the air as she moved toward the rear door to leave. 

 

Ann followed Devon out into the hallway, “You probably shouldn’t be seen with me,” Devon warned her. 

 

“As if I care,” she scoffed.

 

“I care,” Devon countered. “I’m the one he has a hard on for, Ann. You don’t need to ruin your career too.”

 

Ann reached out and grabbed Devon’s arm to stop her progress down the hall.  When she reluctantly turned to look at her Ann saw a mixture of anger and pain swirling in her blue eyes. 

 

“You okay? I—well we all could hear him yelling.” 

 

“Great.”

 

When Devon bowed her head, looking embarrassed now, Ann hastened to add, “You listen to me,” she leaned toward Devon to catch her eye.  “Every one of those people in there,” she gestured with her other arm back toward the door they just exited, “would follow you into battle or straight into hell for that matter.  We respect you.  This is your unit, no matter what that asshole says about you.”  She had a fire in her eyes that made Devon very glad that Ann was on her side, and the energy lifted Devon’s spirit. 

 

“Thanks for the pep talk, but I better go.” 

 

As Devon started to walk down the hall, Ann called out, “Would you like to buy me dinner tonight?”

 

Devon stopped again and looked back over her shoulder at Ann, smiling despite her mood.   

“Can I get a rain check?  I’m really exhausted.” 

 

“Okay,” supremely glad to see Devon smile, Ann grinned back, “Friday then, pick me up at seven.” With that, she turned on her heals and headed back toward the operations area without waiting for a response.

 

Devon shook her head and chuckled to herself, “Yes ma’am,” she said out loud as she started down the hall again, her sneakers squeaking on the tile floor. 

 

 


 

Chapter 41

 

They decided to try a new steakhouse at the Inner Harbor, not far from where they had gone with Mac back in the spring.  The spacious outdoor deck overlooking the water provided a wonderful atmosphere for their meal and the women lingered with another glass of wine after dinner, unwilling to relinquish their table for a bit longer.  They chatted easily over dinner, discussing work, their families, Ann’s upcoming new duty station, and of course Mac. 

 

“I think that if she would have met you sooner, things might have turned out differently, Ann.” Devon said sincerely. 

 

Ann smiled ruefully. “Well, I can tell you that I never wanted to spend more than one or two nights with anyone I’ve ever met before.”  Devon nodded.  “But,” Ann forced a lighter note into her voice, “that’s how it goes.  We knew it going in and I don’t regret one minute of knowing her.”

 

“I know what you mean,” Devon agreed, “I guess all we can ever do is enjoy what we are given ‘cause time and love are fleeting gifts.” She could see Ann scrutinizing her as though she wanted to ask something but was afraid to begin.    

 

“Devon, I don’t mean to pry,” she hesitated as a Devon braced for the question she knew Ann was going to ask.  Normally, she would have stopped the conversation before it started, but she owed Ann a lot.  She knew Ann cared, and they were friends, so she waited. 

 

“Well, I mean,” Ann continued, “I know that you lost a friend in the Middle East, but was there something else…more?” Devon’s eyes fixed on a point beyond her left shoulder.  The silence hung in the air them and Ann told herself that she was the biggest idiot in the world for bringing it up.

 

She stammered, “Hey, I’m sorry, please forget it, Dev…I had no right to ask…I just worry, and…sorry.”  She finished glumly.

 

When Devon turned her gaze back to Ann, the hardness was replaced by sadness again and she smiled weakly, reaching out to take Ann’s hand. “Don’t be sorry for caring.”  Ann smiled tremulously. “Mac only knows ‘cause she was there.” Devon said, “Anyway, Alexandra…Alex my CIA contact. I believe you met her last year?” 

 

Ann nodded, “Yes I remember, she was very pretty and smart as a whip.”

 

Devon grinned slightly at that, “Prettier and smarter than I’ll ever be, that’s for sure.”

 

“I don’t know if I have ever told you how sorry I am that she was killed, Devon, I know how loyal you are to your friends. I can’t imagine losing my dearest—”

 

“She was my lover,” Devon interjected.

 

“Oh, my God.  I never…Mac never told me.  Devon, I am so very, very sorry.”

 

“It’s okay,” Devon downed the last of her wine. “I could tell there were lots of times you wanted to ask; now you know.”  She was grateful that Ann didn’t press further but only smiled kindly.  Devon finished her glass of wine and excused herself to use the restroom.  When Devon returned to the table, her trademark laser grin was back on display.  She extended her hand, “Ready to go?”

 

Ten minutes later they pulled into the parking lot of the club.  “You sure you’re up for a dance club tonight?” Ann looked skeptical. 

 

“Hell, yes, I haven’t been here in months.  Just what the doctor ordered to lift the spirits, right?” She walked around to open Ann’s door. 

 

“If you say so.”

 

“No, Mac says so,” Devon corrected, “and besides, I can’t let you go to Alaska without one more wild night on the town, now can I?”  Both women were laughing as they made their way into the club. 

 

Devon spotted the group who were waiting for them at the back of the bar, and waved when she saw Carmen look up at them.  All of the women yelled out at once, sending a loud, “Yea!” across the club as Devon guided Ann toward their destination.  By the time they reached the table, Carmen was handing Ann a shot before hugging Devon, both women slapping each other on the backs. 

 

“You made it!” Carmen exclaimed, handing Devon her own shot.

 

“I told you we were having dinner first,” Devon reminded her, “that was to give you enough time to get everyone here, remember?”

 

Elaina leaned on Devon’s shoulder, “Honey you know she can’t remember what she had for breakfast this morning.”  With that, she wrapped her arms around Devon’s neck and gave her a teasing kiss on the mouth.

 

“Hey watch it,” Carmen said in mock anger, pulling her lover away from Devon, who was sporting a cocky grin. “And, mi chica, when I said come out more, that was supposed to mean more than every three months.” Her dark eyes looked up at the taller woman with concern, “You doing okay?”

 

“C’mon,” Devon said lightly, dropping an arm around the Latina woman’s shoulder, “I thought you were my physical therapist.  What are you gonna start shrinking my head now too?” 

 

Carmen gave her a smile and a quick look to say she was there if Devon needed to talk.  Devon gave her a nod in return and moved around to the back of the large table, grabbing a mug of beer and finding a chair out of the way from the larger group. 

Carmen was a combat medic in Grenada and seen some pretty rough action. She knew what holding the horrors inside could do to a person.  There were plenty of soldiers whose physical wounds were nothing compared to the psychological wounds.  She watched as Devon seated herself slightly apart from the rest of the group.  Eventually, the cute blonde lieutenant was going to crack if she didn’t start talking to someone, and Carmen hoped that would be soon. 

 

When the group started playing quarters, Devon figured she better switch to water if she was going to be able to drive Ann home.  She glanced over at her friend, chuckling as she missed and had to drink another shot.  Oh, yeah, she is gonna need a ride.  She found a small space at the bar and stood waiting, dollar in hand.  Moments later, Tammy appeared in front of her, a mischievous grin on her face. “What can I get you, ma’am?” her fingers brushed briefly across Devon’s fingers.

 

Feeling the blush rise in her cheeks, but powerless to stop it, Devon replied, “Just water tonight, thanks.” She raised her eyes to meet Tammy’s.  The brunette was obviously just as interested as she was the first night they met, and seemingly not a bit bothered by the fact that Devon hadn’t stayed that night or even called since then.  Although Devon’s body was reacting of its own volition, when Tammy returned with the bottle of water with the same hungry look in her eyes, she managed to focus.  “Thanks, I have to make sure my friend gets home tonight,” she cocked her head toward the loud group across the bar. 

 

“Okay, sweetie, you know where to find me if you change your mind.”  With that, Tammy was pouring several more shots for the next customer. 

 

Spotting an open stool at the end of the bar, Devon took the opportunity to move to the corner for a few minutes.  From this vantage point, she could survey the entire club as well as keep an eye on her charge.  She opened the bottle and took a long satisfying chug of the icy water before swiveling around on the stool to have a look around.  Couples leaned together at small tables for two along the wall, the dance floor was packed with gyrating bodies sweating to the music, and she guessed most of the people at the bar were probably single, like her.

 

As the DJ transitioned into a slow song and equal numbers of couples either moved from or toward the dance floor, Devon caught sight of a familiar face at the far corner of the room.  The woman, who was watching the softball team’s table, didn’t see Devon approaching from the opposite side of the bar.  She paled visibly when the lieutenant turned the chair around in the air, dropped it to the floor and straddled the back, coming to rest inches in front of her. 

 

“Hello Susan.” The ice blue eyes bored into the woman.  Devon laughed hollowly at the look of shock on the investigator’s face.  “What, aren’t you glad to see me?”  She raised her index finger to her mouth as if in thought, “Oh, no, that’s right.  You are supposed to see me, I’m just not supposed to know who you are, right?”

 

Susan’s mind scrambled trying to figure out what to say or do.  Obviously since the last time, James found out who she was.  Probably McKinley figured it out. That’s why she had selected this table in the darkest part of the room so as not to be seen.  She couldn’t believe that her surveillance subject had just walked right over and had the balls to sit right down and challenge her.  How did she miss her leaving the rest of the group?  Damn.  She had to get her shit together.  Well, no choice now, she had to deal with this. 

 

“Hello, Devon.  How are you?”  She smiled as naturally as she could.  She couldn’t help it, she really did like her.  God, Honeycutt would have a stroke if he knew that.

 

Devon narrowed her eyes, studying the woman.  She couldn’t be sure, but she thought that the question was genuine.  Susan was looking at her with what looked like actual affection. 

 

Confused, Devon shook her head.  “Fine,” she mumbled, taking a drink from the water bottle.  She focused instead on Mac’s warning.  This woman had caused good people to lose their careers, and Devon had no doubt she was next on the list of targets. 

 

“Would you believe I just came in to have a drink?”  Susan asked. She knew what the boss wanted her to do.  What she was supposed to do.  Reel in her target.  She sensed hesitation from the lieutenant’s initial confrontation. Now was the time to make a play. 

 

“No. I wouldn’t.” Devon reminded herself that the investigators use any tactic necessary to bait their prey.  The whole concerned look on her face was just an act.  That’s right and the best defense is a good offense as they say.  She smiled at Susan, “But, since we’re both here, what are you drinking? I’ll buy.”

 

“Oh, no—”

 

“Really, I insist,” Devon said as she stood, “rum and coke if I remember correctly, right?”  She moved with long strides toward the bar before Susan could answer.  Susan watched her target move confidently through the crowd toward the bar, realizing her nerves were jumping.  Why did she come here again alone, without a backup? No doubt she was trying to get additional information about James for her investigation.  That’s what she told herself when she got dressed tonight, even as she fussed over exactly what outfit to wear and primped at the mirror for nearly thirty minutes. 

 

Her eyes were still on Devon as she stood leaning a hip against the bar, waiting for her order.  Susan noted the faded jeans the lieutenant was wearing fit quite nicely and she could make out the muscles in her back beneath the white polo shirt as Devon leaned across the bar, listening as the bartender said something directly into her ear.  Susan was inexplicably irritated by the obviously intimate exchange between the two women.  What the hell is that about? She reminded herself to concentrate on the investigation.

 

Devon returned from the bar with Susan’s drink and another bottle of water for herself, once again sitting with her legs straddling the back of the wooden chair, scrutinizing the brunette.  She seemed nervous, making Devon inwardly pleased to be rattling the investigator.  She watched Susan shift in her chair. 

 

Susan took a long drink from her glass, grateful for something to distract her from the intense blue eyes locked on her.  Her mind was racing.  She had tried to ignore the conflicting feelings inside regarding Lieutenant James for quite some time.  When she took the case everything seemed black and white, her duty was clear.  Now that she met the lieutenant more than once she didn’t know what she believed anymore. 

 

“So, why don’t you tell me your real name,” Devon suggested, “That would only be fair because I’m sure you know everything there is to know about me.”  She watched the investigator’s face carefully and saw the brown eyes soften to reveal a surprising vulnerability.  After finishing her drink, the woman pushed the glass several times back and forth on the table between her hands, seemingly uncertain how to answer. 

 

She drew in a deep breath and returned Devon’s stare, “My name really is Susan.”  Suddenly, she had this desire to come fully clean, confess her role in the investigation and throw herself at the mercy of this intriguing woman.  Being this close to her was making Susan wish that she really was just a local Baltimore girl having a drink with a dashing blond stranger. 

 

“Okay, Susan,” the blue eyes regarded her seriously, “I think we can safely say that you’re not a local woman who’s just a regular here at the club.”  Susan nodded, feeling a scathing rebuke coming.  Devon continued, her hard stare pinning the agent back in her chair, “Since you think you’re on the side of moral integrity, truth and justice, why don’t you explain to me how being in this bar makes me a less effective officer or less patriotic for that matter?”

 

Devon had now become the interrogator and she watched Susan struggle to maintain eye contact.  She grasped the empty tumbler on the table, rolling it between her palms.  Surprisingly, it looked as though the investigator was being honest as she began to speak.

 

“I used to believe that I was enforcing regulations—yes for the good of the military—I was young and everything was black and white.”  Devon’s expression did not change as she listened.  “Lately, I’m not so sure about what’s right and wrong.”  Susan straightened in her chair and placed her palms down on the table, so close to Devon’s hand that she imagined she could feel the heat of her skin. 

 

“I didn’t follow you here tonight, although I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hope to see you.” Devon’s brows knit together as a frown transformed her features.  Susan pushed ahead, “On paper, it seemed horribly wrong to come after someone like you. But once I actually met you I knew—” 

 

“Hey, chica!  Who’s your cute friend?”  Carmen stepped up to the table between their chairs. 

Devon stood abruptly, spinning the chair back around and pushing it under the table.

 

“Goodnight.” She said quietly to Susan, before leading the Latina woman back to the rear of the club where the team was still partying. 

 

Devon collected Ann from the table, drawing disapproving shouts from the others who were enjoying getting the petty officer completely drunk.  She bid goodnight to the group, thanking Carmen and Elaina for rounding up the gang for Ann’s farewell bash.  Devon half carried Ann toward the front door, noting that Susan’s table was empty as she passed by.  An hour later, she had she had successfully gotten Ann into bed in the spare room of her apartment and decided that she was in need of a hot shower to wash off the smell of smoke and stale alcohol of the bar. 

 

Stripping off her clothes, she stepped into the steam filled enclosure, adjusting the water flow so that a hard pulsing spray beat against her skin.  While she lathered and scrubbed head to toe, her mind replayed the odd interaction with the CID investigator.  Susan.  Devon supposed there was no reason not to believe that was really her name, she just wondered if anything else the woman said was the truth, and was disturbed that a part of her wanted to believe the woman.  She wondered how anyone could make a living trying to destroy other people’s lives. Stepping from the shower and briskly towel drying her hair, Devon decided that she should not spend much time trying to understand a person like Susan. 

 

#

 

Susan sat at the small kitchen table in her apartment with the photographic evidence she had collected during the past weeks spread out before her.  Every night she returned to wait outside the business.  Twice more she saw him.  That convinced her this was no mistake.  The local property tax records were easy enough to access, giving her the name of the property owner. From there it was short work to access background information on him, which led to the real nature of the business.  It was an after-hours gay club. 

 

She checked all of the open investigations and found no reference to the establishment in any of the ongoing official investigations.  That only left two options.  He was either conducting his own investigation, or he was a customer.  Susan stared at the pictures.  Could this be possible?  It was too much to think about.  She poured another drink and tried to calm her frazzled nerves. Right now, she had to think this through and proceed carefully.  One misstep on her part could be disastrous.    If she was wrong it was the end of her career.  If she was right, the implications were just unbelievable. 

 

Part 15

What's Ya Poison?