Sixteen years later
The communicator crackled in Charley’s ear as she walked through the hallway she’d avoided with each previous invitation. Cement blocks painted a simple off-white, spotted tiled floors, metal doors and fluorescent lights adorned the school. They no longer held the romance she’d experienced so long ago.
Charley sped up at the footsteps behind her but froze-her hand at her ear. She closed her eyes, concentrating on a voice only she could hear, and balanced a brown cardboard box in one hand. “You want me to do what, James? Are you fucking crazy?”
Four pairs of innocent eyes stared up at her.
Dammit! Yet another reason Lily should have done this. Charley mouthed ‘I’m sorry’ to the group of kids who loitered in the hall and quick-stepped away.
Why did I not see them? She shook her head. It’s an elementary school, for god’s sake.
Too preoccupied with James’s request, she’d walked without thought, and he’d caught her off guard. If it hadn’t been for Chase, dropped at their doorstep eight years before, she’d never have agreed to play delivery girl.
An alarm blasted as she reached for the door. Those bells are louder than I remember.
Her earpiece rattled as hundreds of children streamed through doors, scrambling one over the other with laughter and cheer. The echoes brought intense memories and sliced through her heart.
The moment passed when she spotted her target no more than ten feet from where she stood. “Chase.”
One well-spoken word, called over the rush of feet, stopped him.
His tomato red shirt and curly, strawberry hair stood out among the rest. His shoulders drooped as he ambled his way over.
Charley held the container out to him. “Take it.”
He reached with two skinny arms for a box no bigger than his hands. His baby blues looked up at her as one last, ‘I’m sorry,’ passed through his lips. His head tilted from side to side as he kicked specks of dirt on the tile.
Charley rolled her eyes as her earpiece vibrated with suggestions and alternatives she wouldn’t consider-again. “Will you please shut up for a minute?”
“Is that James?” Chase rose on his toes. “Hey, James!” Chase would know his only hope lay with his big brother.
“He’s not going to help you, Chasey. Your chances are up. Pass that mouse to the next in line.” She pointed to the box as she spoke, ignoring her earpiece.
Chase’s head dipped down. “But-”
“And Chase?” She waited for him to return the glance.
His gaze met hers through long lashes, anticipation and possibility alighting his eyes. “Yeah?”
So beautiful. Still so young and innocent. If she didn’t press, she’d give in-like the rest of them did, every time. Like she did, too, except for once, and not for Chase, but Wyatt. Her heart ached even after so long.
This is why I don’t go into schools. She took a deep breath. Steadied herself. “No sneaking him back home. I’ll know.” She tapped her temple. “Hey…” Her voice softened at his frown. “You’ll be hanging with Sophie for a little while. The crew will be gone for a couple days.”
Sophie-an addition Charley welcomed not long after Chase’s arrival. She’d become his nanny, or super-nanny in Charley’s mind, and keeper of all Charley’s secrets.
“Cool! Where ya goin’?” Chase’s infectious smile and his fascination with her job made it that much harder to walk away each time-and for James, Lily and Cael to go with her.
She ruffled his hair. “Can’t tell ya this time.” Perhaps one day, he’ll be a part of it.
His lips squished into a clear ewww as he backed away in one swift move.
“But we’ll come back with stories… and presents.” She added a noncommittal shrug.
His face lit up. None of the four of them would come home empty handed.
“Oh!” She checked her watch. “You’ll be late in exactly… fifteen seconds.”
He raced down the hall and slipped through the door as the bell vibrated again. One quick wave back at her forced another memory to take shape: of a boy who raced to class with Charley’s hand in his. Pain erupted in her heart as if it had happened minutes before.
She blew a kiss Chase would not see, returned to James’s voice with an even more firm resolve. “I’m on my way.” She stomped back to the exit, paying little attention to the curious hallway stragglers watching her converse with herself. “No, we won’t talk about this when I arrive because there is nothing to discuss. I just won’t do it.”
Charley blew through the metal doors, her only barrier to the outside, and launched herself into the afternoon sunshine.
James knew better than to send her off to a school, alone, in the middle of the day with a mouse and to throw a crazy-ass assignment her way. She’d already labeled it a trifecta of terrible. Adding the need to rid herself of memories, yet again, burned more and hadn’t helped improve her mood.
Why did he ask me to do this?
Out in the open, away from the sounds and stimulation of her past, she let her thoughts wander. Clean-shaven, nearly-black hair, crisp green eyes, and soft lips floated through her mind.
Wyatt.
Behind the cover of dark shades, tears pricked the back of her eyes as pictures flooded her mind. There’d never, ever, been a possibility they’d be erased.
He probably still hated her. It’s been sixteen years, Charley. Get a grip! She tucked her thoughts back into their recesses, instead, turned her attention back to James’s most recent assignment request.
“I’m not going to do it,” she said into the mouthpiece.
He chuckled.
She held in the scream, figuring to let it out in the middle of a school parking lot might give her more attention than she deserved.
“You’re needed, Charley.” Notwithstanding his confidence in her, she would refuse on principle.
She’d trained to be, acted as, or worked as a physician, electrical engineer, molecular biologist, neuroscientist, and attorney, among countless others. She held advanced graduate degrees from Harvard, Duke, Texas A &M, Berkeley and one or two more. The new assignment made no sense.
“Dammit, James! The President himself couldn’t convince me to take this one.” Charley hissed into the sky, relieving a moment of tension. “I choose the assignments. Me. Remember?”
James laughed in her ear, further ruining her attempts at relaxation. The oversized black sedan sent fury through Charley.
Her body shivered despite the warmth under the sun. “You didn’t tell me I’d have company.”
Wheels rolled, gravel crunched. It stopped behind her vehicle, blocking her in.
“Sorry. That’s why you were sent with Pops,” James said.
Such an affectionate name for a completely icky creature.
Two black suits in dark sunglasses emerged, positioned at each side of the car, their hands clasped at their crotches.
“Seriously? Why do they wear shades when the windows are completely tinted? And, hands at their boy parts?”
“It looks really cool. Great way to meet the ladies.” James’s come-on voice, infused with sultry indifference, incited a small laugh from Charley.
She imagined he wiggled his eyebrows, too. “That’s totally lame, you know?” Meandering, she slowed her pace until she stopped.
“Keep moving, Charley.”
How does he know I stopped? “James! C’mon!” She stomped a foot on the ground. “This one is not for me. You don’t need a brain!”
“Yes, we do. It’s a short project. Get in, get done. Your body will work very nicely.”
Her thick hair warmed under the sun’s rays. She kept it long out of habit, had left it black since the day she’d given Wyatt up. A redhead when she met James, blonde with Lily, wild when she connected with Cael, and gold in the period she considered her previous life-with Wyatt.
Her breath hitched. Ten feet away, she planted her feet. “I’m not going with you.”
They stayed fixed at the car, waiting in a stance she knew they’d learned early in the academy.
“Sorry, Charley.” Cael cleared his throat with an audible cough. “Your presence has been, well, requested.” His lips, the only part of his body which registered movement, raised in a slight smirk. She didn’t even see the motion of his chest with his intake of breath.
Charley grimaced at Cael in work mode. Of course they’d send him to get her. That doesn’t mean I have to accept it.
“Go with ’em Charley,” James said. “We’ll meet you there.”
When she’d been sent to Russia, the project had been marked urgent. Her trip to Brazil: life or death. Texas, Africa and China came to her with the same deep need.
One hand on her hip, she tilted her sunglasses down her nose. “By whose definition are we calling this one a necessity?” The government didn’t know when to quit.
“Can’t say,” Cael said.
Charley shook her head, let her hair fall across her face. “Of course you can’t. James couldn’t. No one can tell me who’s calling the shots, yet they want me.” She waved her hands in the air. “Never mind.” She cut herself short and finished the distance to the car.
Cael held the door wide. As she slipped into the back seat, she clung to the frame. “This doesn’t mean I agree, just that I’ll let you drive me. Then we can waste time fighting about it.”
“Of course.” Cael nodded.
Two door slams later, the engine purred, and the car exited the school’s lot. On the highway, tires rolled to a smooth cadence. Lulled, Charley let herself fall into a memory from so long ago, she with her three friends in the back of a limo-fun the only rule.
Rarely did they have a driver. Cael as a passenger meant whoever called for her held power and authority.
A change of lanes jostled her. “Why does everyone except me know who’s called this meeting?” She peeked with one eye.
Neither man turned around.
“Some things are best left unsaid,” Cael said. “For now, the team is needed. And that means you.”
The team. She, Lily, James and Cael. An unstoppable team. The guys-the brawn, as she referred to them-balanced her mind. She often admitted James’s logic matched hers, and Cael’s capability for manipulation reached well beyond her own.
“I thought I was the one who knew everything, though?” Charley spoke without punch. Under normal circumstances, she would have been the one in the know-called for missions, adventures, projects, whatever, thanks in most part to her shape-shifting ability but also for her mind.
Cael remained mute.
She gave up. Deep breath in-out-in-out, and one muscle at a time, she unfurled the tension she’d built up in herself. She folded her arms across her chest, let her hands rest against her body and relaxed.
Alone in her thoughts, she considered the possibilities: someone famous, political, a foreign dignitary, or a family member to any of the same. Her mental list blanked on her, with no particular person standing out. That she did not know did not bode well and ratcheted up her nerves again.
Tree-lined roads flew past as they moved from highway to countryside. If they’d turned left, they’d head downtown. The opposite direction and they’d end up near Turner Point where the girl Wyatt knew as Mira disappeared but never left. A surge of memory-fueled adrenaline rushed through her.
Think happy thoughts, Charley.
She smiled as the images of her town passed through her mind. Suburban to the point of excessive. A railroad stop with a rich history. The trains had run since the nineteenth century and continued, blowing their horns as they passed, adding noise and disrupting traffic. She loved the contrast it held to her work-stressful and fast mixed with heritage and timeliness. Some days Charley hated the departure from small town to large. On others, her excitement got the better of her.
Trees grew more sparse, the buildings more dense as they drove on. She ignored the car as it slowed, but the sharp squeal of metal against metal took her attention. The gate before them began to move. At only a foot every couple seconds, she had time to process her location and gawk at the house to which they’d driven. Charley leaned forward-elbows on the seat in front.
Home. House. Whatever they called it, Charley termed it ‘huge’. The house on Turner Point had been hers for at least half her life. Although small in comparison to the one before her, many thought it grandiose.
The statuesque Queen Anne Victorian held its position with regal elegance. Three stories towered in the center, encircled by a wrought-iron fence. Traditional gables and ornate flourishes accented the exterior-adding to the feel royalty once lived within its walls. Charley could stand outside and marvel for hours if left on her own.
The circular drive brought them to the home’s base in short measure. Behind them, James’s car followed.
“Who’s here?” It had unnerved her for far too long to be deliberately kept out.
What they’d asked her to do-to be-would not be difficult. If it required education, skill or stamina, she’d educate herself or acquire the ability. With Lily’s help, she’d look the part.
The question of why bothered her most.
James and Lily flanked her within seconds.
“You guys made good time.” Charley crossed her arms, stood with her feet shoulder width apart. “But I’m still royally pissed you won’t tell me who’s called us.”
A creak preceded a lazy, enchanted swing of a white-washed panel door.
As its angle widened, the group waited.
From within, a man stepped. Under his weight, the porch groaned.
Charley gasped. Her body swayed.
James caught her before she hit the concrete but not before she understood.
There could be no mistake.
Wyatt.
“Just give her a second,” Lily said.
“I told you she’d probably pass out.” James’s voice carried to Charley.
“I’m glad you were there,” Cael said.
The ruffling of paper suggested the exchange of dollar bills, but she kept her thoughts to herself.
“Can I help?” Wyatt’s voice, deeper yet the same, licked at her ears.
“She’ll be okay in a sec… the heat and all.” Lily’s lie flowed like a lazy river. The wave of her hand added a small breeze across Charley’s face.
Wyatt.
Charley hadn’t imagined she’d ever get to see him again, let alone work with him. Her team seemed to think she’d be the perfect candidate for a simple project.
I’ll do it. Just tell me what and where. Anything. I’m your puppet. Don’t say any of that out loud. Argh!
“Oh Chaaaaarley!” Lily sang her name, adding a slight beat to the made up tune.
The sounds of life cleared, but Charley’s mental tsunami would burn into her psyche. With flush cheeks, she’d be the butt of jokes for the rest of the day.
She wished Wyatt would leave so she could get herself on her feet with some semblance of dignity. Yet, at the same time, she wanted him to hold her, touch her and kiss her like he had so long ago.
Lily’s hand ran over Charley’s face again, and the chill interrupted her thoughts. “Wake up, Charley.” Lily’s tone held a little more force.
Charley cracked one eye-enough to see Lily’s nose inches from hers, James at her shoulders, Cael at his and Wyatt above them all.
Heat raced back into her cheeks.
A squeeze of Lily’s hand, and Charley pulled herself out of James’s arms to sit on her own. She swayed an inch before she caught her balance again.
“Ma’am,” Wyatt said. “Should I get you a chair?”
Ma’am? Her heart ached. “I’m okay.” One hand in James’s, another in Lily’s, Charley brought herself up to her full height.
Gone were the wisps of curls that infused his dark hair-he’d opted for a long military cut. His green eyes tugged and pulled at hers-same as before. Her fingers itched to find their way to muscles hidden under his dark suit. Soft warred with hard as small creases added to the corners of his eyes, reflecting age and wisdom.
They stood, the four of them focused on Wyatt. Charley took a deep breath, blew it out and counted.
She caught each of her companions’ gazes. “Shall we try this again?”
At their nod, she gave herself another single count.
“Let me apologize-”
“None needed. I’m told your group is very unique and moments of unusual activity should be expected.” Wyatt held his hands tight in front, his body still but not at rest.
“True. But it’s odd that I have the problems.” She held a hand to her heart.
Wyatt nodded. From behind her, Lily pressed a hand into Charley’s back.
“Let me introduce us,” Charley said. “My name is Charley Randall,” and I want to marry you… Her hands moved to her companions. “… and this is Lily Crane.” She moved on. “Cael Aldrige and James Henry.”
“Wyatt Moreland.” His hand reached and Charley snatched the opportunity to shake it, sliding her palm against his. “I’m a Senior Field Agent for the Counterintelligence and Foreign Law Enforcement Division of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.”
“Whoa! That’s a mouthful,” James said as Cael snickered and broke from his uber-professional mold.
Charley’s heart thudded against her chest as Wyatt smiled. It pounded harder when the grin reached the corners of his eyes. She wanted to jump up and down like a giddy school girl who’d found out the popular boy might, maybe, like her.
She kept the motion hidden. “And it’s you who’s asked us here?”
“Yes.” Wyatt’s ringless hand motioned toward the house. “Shall we? I think this conversation is better suited for a more private place.”
Cael nodded, his head inclined toward the house. “I agree.”
Wyatt took the lead, his long legs stepping wider than hers, gait controlled and firm. Charley itched to grab and hold on forever.
“You’ll get your chance,” Lily whispered into Charley’s ear before she moved in front. Lily’s two crossed fingers behind her back brought a curve to Charley’s lips.
The four of them followed, up six granite steps to the front entrance.
“Sheila McGowan. Please come in.” The woman offered each of them a handshake as they entered. Once through, she led the way through a short foyer. Her skirt zip-zipped as she scooted to the front while her heels clacked against the hardwoods.
Efficiency in motion.
“She’s a bit severe, don’t you think?” James snickered to Charley.
She stifled a laugh.
High ceilings overdramatized the foyer’s size. Antiques graced miniature shelves at random intervals. They followed Wyatt into a room dominated by floor-to-ceiling windows. The sun, through the two layers of glass, warmed, and the jewel tones in the paint and accessories accentuated it.
Sheila motioned them to sit. Charley found a spot on a Victorian chaise with Lily next to her. James slouched into a padded recliner, and Cael, in his standard-issue FBI uniform, positioned himself in a side armchair.
Wyatt sat opposite them, and like Cael’s, his posture remained stiff and controlled.
Sheila pulled folders from a briefcase she’d picked up from an antique buffet they’d passed.
“Ms. McGowan-” Charley began.
“Please, call me Sheila.”
Charley cocked her head.
Sheila laid her hands on the items in her lap, crossed and uncrossed her ankles.
Nerves? “Sheila, then. You’ve gotten our attentions, mine in particular. However, I would very much like an explanation for why I’ve been asked to take on this project.”
Sheila broke her stare, turning to each of them and pointing toward folders within their reach. “Please, take a moment to look at the information I’ve provided. Ms. Randall? I think that which you are looking for is in there.”
Charley drew the government-issued, navy-blue folder from the table. As she opened her copy, Cael let out a low whistle. Mr. I’m-at-work had broken his facade again. Charley stifled her laugh but smiled; she’d rib him about it later.
She pointed to a photo. “Who’s this?”
“The page to its left will explain everything,” Sheila said.
“Okay, but I’d like to hear your perspective while I read it.” Charley’s tone bordered on exasperation, though it came from long suppressed emotional frustration.
“Sheila, if you’d please give Charley the rundown on the situation, that would help… considerably,” James said.
Charley knew he did it to soften Sheila as her own gruff response couldn’t.
Sheila stiffened. “Absolutely. I’m sorry. I was told Ms. Randall preferred to read and then ask her own questions.” Sheila proceeded with details in a clipped recitation.
Charley stood before she finished and ran her hands through her hair. She needed the movement to prevent another mental meltdown. Her group would ignore her as she paced the room, but she assumed Sheila and Wyatt would watch her every move.
Can he tell it’s me?
She’d kept the height but changed the hair. Gone were the enhancements she’d added before. Her eyes took on a golden brown.
“Ms. Randall…” Sheila began, but James signaled silence with a finger to his lips.
Charley’s need to move diminished. As she passed Wyatt on her first round, she noted the strength of his shoulders-how their width made her want to touch them, to run her hands along their plane. She drew her hands into fists at her sides and released. Repeated.
I’ll do itfor you. I won’t even ask questions.
She hustled away from Wyatt before she came to rest in her original spot.
“Okay. Now.” Charley’s hair fell from her clip.
Wyatt’s head shifted as his gaze stayed on her.
Recognition?
She shook the thought away. “What you’re asking isn’t a mind-boggling activity. It’s a search for information. Go in and get the details, get out. End of story. What isn’t written in your FAQs?” Charley pointed back toward the folders they held. “Please tell me why you need me for this.”
“Because we were told you can look and act the part.” Sheila’s eyes exclaimed their disbelief.
“Riiiiiight.” Charley leaned against the back of a chair. “Because I’m the only woman in the FBI who can pole dance?”