“Yeah right. Me and the penguins.” But he was starting to grin and the sparkle in his eyes was irresistible. Darn him. He knew she couldn’t resist that teasing look. “Suppose I agree to this ridiculous picnic idea. As you’ve just pointed out, picnics involve food.” She opened the refrigerator and pointed with a smirk. “Hate to burst your bubble, Calhoun, but that looks empty to me.”
“Give me some help here, you little whiner. We’ll stop at the store. I need some enthusiasm from you.”
“All right already,” Saber capitulated. “I’m enthused. I can’t wait.” And she couldn’t. She’d never been on a picnic before. It was one of those things normal people did. Normal, just like she’d always wanted. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see. Dress warm and don’t forget your gloves,” he instructed.
Saber allowed herself to really study his face. It was difficult to read Jess; it always had been. She felt comfortable with him, alive and happy. And there were no headaches, no bleeding from her mouth, nose, or ears. When she was close to him, she could handle all the energy flooding her brain, all the emotions and the bombardment of sound assaulting her. She had never questioned that, but she should have. Only a GhostWalker who was an anchor could draw the energy away from her, and Jess Calhoun had to be an anchor. Was that why she felt so close to him? Because he was like her?
Had she really deceived herself all these months? He had to be very well trained to have concealed his part in the program from her. Ordinarily she could spot a GhostWalker a mile away, but because Jess was in a wheelchair, it hadn’t even occurred to her that he could possibly be in that program.
“What is it?” he asked again, his voice soft.
It was tempting to just blurt out her fears, her questions. But she knew better. Jess had been a SEAL, and once a GhostWalker there was no going back. He still worked for the military. He was involved in some kind of top secret investigation. She was well aware of the secret visits, the men she never saw come and go. She should have suspected, but the wheelchair had thrown her into a false sense of security.
“Saber?” he prompted.
“Nothing.” She forced a smile. She was taking this one day with him, for herself, because it was probably the only day she would ever have with the man she loved.
S ubject Calhoun’s sister arrived today. I managed to drop the listening device in her pocket earlier after I heard she was going to visit her brother. He must have jamming equipment in his house, because it did no good. I couldn’t pick up on anything and it abruptly stopped working. The good news is, she is back in town, and if needed we can use her to control Calhoun. He has shown us that he is willing to sacrifice his life for anyone he loves. It is his greatest weakness and one we can capitalize on. Give me the go-ahead and I can take the sister.
He would love to get his hands on haughty Patsy, looking down her nose at him, brushing him aside as if he were nobody. He could teach her manners and enjoy every moment of it. He was frustrated that the listening device hadn’t worked after he had gone to all the trouble of planting it, especially since it had taken so long to get the exact frequency worked out. Weeks of listening to Jess’s voice for hours on end, over and over, recording the exact wavelength. Whitney had all these little experiments he wanted done. And the other-he was just as demanding. It was exciting to be a double agent, play both sides and collect fat paychecks, but if he didn’t get the results both wanted soon, they would send someone else to do the job, and that was unacceptable. He had plans for the Night Siren. Big plans.
Chapter 6
Jess had been all over the world and he had chosen Sheridan, Wyoming, as his home, not only for its warm, friendly people, but because of its rich history and the year-round activities. It was a beautiful city close to the Big Horn Mountains. It was home to him, and after he had been put in a wheelchair he had planned to stay-until Lily and Eric had talked to him about the bionics program.
He still had nightmares about how he’d gotten into the wheelchair in the first place. He often woke up drenched in sweat, his heart pounding, pain twisting his gut into knots and his legs jumping with the memory of first the bullets slamming into his bones, and then the torture that followed. It had seemed endless, a sea of pain, the pattern of blood splattering the walls, memories of the brutal men slamming objects into the mess that had been his legs. He remembered it so vividly. Time hadn’t dulled any of it. Nothing had helped until he opened his door and let Saber Wynter into his life. The nightmares hadn’t stopped, but since Saber’s arrival, they had eased.
Saber remained silent as they drove through the streets, but as always, he felt peace steal into him when he was with her. His response was strange, since Saber wasn’t exactly a restful person. She had too much energy and too many causes, but every time he was with her, he felt happy. On their evening walks, she often jogged beside him as he wheeled his chair along Main Street, past the scenic buildings.
She was enhanced. Whether he admitted it to himself or not-or even whether she did-she was a GhostWalker just like him. She was good-too good-and that meant she’d been trained, or she would have slipped up long before now.
Being a GhostWalker explained her voice, so popular on the airwaves that his little radio station was becoming a huge hit. It explained her need for solitude. She wasn’t an anchor and she couldn’t be around other people without pain. It explained everything but why she was in his home. Because no matter how much in love with her crazy ways he was, he couldn’t ignore the fact that she had to be a plant. That was the only explanation he could think of to explain why her fingerprints hadn’t kicked a red flag back at him.
He drove the van west on Loucks Street, but was so busy watching Saber he nearly missed the turn onto Badger. Kendrick Park was dead ahead. This time of year, with the air cooling rapidly but the snow not yet here, few people used the park. Big Goose Creek bordered the park, with its wealth of evergreens and tall, elegant cottonwoods.
“Perfect picnic area. All the tourists say so,” he commented, looking carefully, cautiously around. Suddenly his senses were prickling-nothing too big, but a definite hit. His hand slid over his pack to feel the weight of his gun.
Saber laughed. “This park is packed in the summer. I thought for sure you were taking me to Fort Phil Kearny. You’ve been promising for three months.”
“True, I also said we’d go to…”