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Kyle Anthony March slid into the driver’s seat of his rental sedan, and pulled the white plastic collar off, tossing it onto the passenger’s seat. He stared at the back of the church thoughtfully for a moment, then started the engine and pulled out of his parking spot in the shade of a large old maple tree.
It had been a simple matter to find where the funeral for the man in the hospital was being held. All he’d had to do was pour through the obituaries from the past week until he found the one for Special Agent John Smithe. He’d struck gold with yesterday’s Courier Post.
Agent Stephanie Walker hadn’t led him to Viper yet, but he was becoming more and more convinced she would. After watching her for the past two days, he’d managed to learn quite a bit. For one thing, the man staying with her was also an FBI agent, and an ex-military man to boot. That complicated matters, but didn’t make them impossible. He would just have to be cautious. There was also the other woman who showed up last night. She was another complication he hadn’t expected. He had thought she was going to stay at the already crowded apartment, but then a Ford F150 showed up. While the man was inside, Kyle ran the plates and discovered Michael O’Reilly was also an ex-Marine, and a Secret Service agent. Kyle was too experienced a hunter to discount so many Federal agents under one roof. Something was going on, and somehow he’d managed to land himself right in the middle of it when he took the job to kill John Smithe.
He shook his head as he pulled out of the parking lot onto the sleepy, deserted backstreet behind the church. If it was just the FBI agents, that would be one thing. John was an FBI agent, so it was only natural Kyle would run into many of them in his search for Viper. Now, however, a Secret Service Agent was in the mix, and that was something Kyle didn’t like. Not only was Michael O’Reilly an unknown factor, but he was another connection to Washington. With Blake Hanover that made two people connected to the capital, and that was two too many.
Kyle rolled to a stop at the sign at the end of the street, looked to his left, and pulled onto the town’s main road. He had to learn why someone wanted John Smithe dead enough to hire him. That was the key. That would tell him why so many Federal agents were suddenly involved, and why two of them were from Washington. It would also tell him why Viper was part of it. If he knew that, he had a chance.
If he could find out what John was hiding, he’d know who wanted him dead.
And Kyle knew just where to start.
Stephanie stared at Angela in disbelief.
“What do you mean you don’t know where she is?!”
Angela shrugged and tossed her hair over her shoulder.
“She wasn’t at the house when we got back this afternoon, and she still wasn’t there when we left,” she said. “She didn’t leave a note or anything. I tried calling, no answer.”
“So help me, if she doesn’t show up, I’ll never speak to her again!” Stephanie exclaimed furiously. She swung around to face Michael. “Do you know anything about this?”
Michael raised his eyebrows.
“About where she is? No.”
Stephanie made a sound strongly reminiscent of a growl and dug into her purse for her phone, pulling it out a second later.
“I’m calling her,” she announced.
“Good luck with that,” Angela muttered, turning to walk up the sidewalk to the funeral home. “We’ve already tried.”
Michael glanced at Stephanie, then turned to follow Angela. When they had arrived a few moments before, the small parking lot for the funeral home was already filled. While he drove around looking for the closest spot on a side street, Angela called to tell Stephanie they were looking for parking. When they finally walked up the road to the funeral home, she was waiting on the sidewalk for them.
“Does she really think Lina won’t come?” he asked Angela under his breath.
Angela glanced up at him.
“I don’t know,” she said, glancing back at Stephanie. “Maybe. To be honest, I think she’s upset she hasn’t seen her since she got back. I mean, let’s be honest, Alina isn’t acting like herself.”
Michael was silent as they mounted the steps to the wrap-around porch of the funeral home. If Alina didn’t come to the viewing, Damon would have his head for letting her roam free while someone wanted her dead. He suppressed a sigh. And if he hadn’t accompanied Angela all day, Viper would have had his head. Either way, he didn’t come out on top.
“Son of a...” Stephanie's exclamation followed them and they both turned to watch as she stalked up the sidewalk after them. “She’s not answering.”
“I told you,” said Angela. “Relax. She’ll come. We bought an outfit especially for it.”
That caught Stephanie's attention and made her pause.
“You did?” she asked. “You mean, you actually got her out shopping?”
“Yes, on Saturday. We got an outfit for tonight and one for tomorrow. I told her she had appearances to keep up.”
“Appearances?” Michael repeated. “What appearances?”
Angela looked at him.
“She’s John’s ex-fiancé. Everyone knows it. She can’t show up looking like a scrub.”
“Oh, please tell me you told her that,” he murmured, his eyes dancing.
Stephanie grinned behind Angela’s back, amused with him.
“Of course I did.”
Angela sailed through the front door with that statement and Michael looked at Stephanie. After a second, they both chuckled.
“God, I wish I could have seen it,” he said.
“You and me both,” she agreed. “If that’s what she had to hear for a whole shopping trip, I suddenly understand Alina’s reluctance to come. Good Lord.”
Michael held open the door and waited as Stephanie went through before following her in. The outer door opened into a large square hallway. A round mahogany table was in the center, dominated by a huge vase filled with cream roses and assorted ferns and greenery. Laid on the table were piles of memorial cards bearing a photo of John. A small crowd milled around the hallway, speaking in low voices and greeting acquaintances.
“He’s laid out in the front room, through here,” said Stephanie, moving around Angela and motioning to a set of open double-doors on the right.
“Are Joanne and Bill in there?” Angela asked, swiping up a memorial card as she passed the table. “How are they holding up?”
“They seem fine. As fine as they can be, anyway.”
Michael followed the two women into the front room and glanced around. This room was filled with people. All in varying shades of black and gray, they looked like a rainy day. A receiving line wrapped around the outer edge of the room, leading back to the open coffin. Chairs were arranged in rows in the center of the room and a few mourners who already paid their respects were seated, talking together in low voices. Others milled around, nodding to people they knew and looking appropriately somber.
“It’s about time you showed up,” said Blake in a low voice behind him. “I’ve been wandering around, trying to avoid getting into ‘how do you know the deceased’ conversations with people I don’t know.”
Michael turned to look at his friend, a grin crossing his lips.
“How’s that working?”
“It’s not. I’ve met just about everyone here,” Blake said glumly, moving into the receiving line with Michael and Angela. “I hate these things.”
“We all do,” Michael replied, watching as Stephanie departed to rejoin Joanne and her husband near the coffin. “It reminds us we’re mortal.”
“I’m hoping things get more interesting as the night goes on,” Blake said. “I’ve been here since six-thirty. Stephanie promised beer and wings afterwards and I’m holding her to it.”
“Beer and wings?” Angela turned around, perking up considerably. “Where?”
Blake shrugged.
“Some place called...Pete’s? Chicken? Chicken Pete?” he said, his brows creasing in thought. “Does that sound right?”
“Chickie and Pete’s?! Oh, we’re so in!”
“We are?” Michael asked, startled.
“Yes, we are. Trust me. You’ll thank me later.”
Michael glanced at Blake in time to see his friend grin.
“Looks like you’re just along for the ride too,” he said. He looked around, then nudged Michael to get his attention. “Is your girlfriend coming?”
“I have no idea, and she’s not my girlfriend,” Michael muttered. “No one’s heard from her since this morning.”
Blake raised an eyebrow and glanced at Stephanie across the room.
“That’s not going to go over well with Stephanie,” he said decidedly. “Where the hell is she?”
“No clue, but Angela says she’ll show. She bought an outfit especially.”
“An outfit?” Blake stared at him for a beat. “You’re kidding.”
Michael couldn’t stop the grin that stretched across his face.
“Nope.”
Blake glanced at the back of Angela’s head and nodded to her.
“Her idea?”
“Yep.”
“Oh, I can’t wait to hear all about this,” Blake said, his shoulders shaking in laughter. “See? This ordeal is getting more interesting already.”
Alina glanced at her watch and strode through the shadows, almost invisible in the darkness. She was late. Stephanie was probably threatening never to speak to her again, and Angela was probably assuring her she wouldn’t miss it. She had, after all, bought an outfit just for this.
She glanced down at the black pants and deep purple silk blouse. Angela had tried to get her into a pencil skirt, but Alina managed to get away with the pants instead. Not only was there no way she was wearing a skirt two days in a row, but you couldn’t move in a pencil skirt. At least, she couldn’t, and Viper wasn’t about to risk her mobility for the sake of appearances.
Rounding the corner of the large funeral home, Alina moved along the brick walkway crossing in front of the house. She cast a sharp glance around the yard, noting the various people coming and going. The street in front of the home was quiet and well-lit, affording good visibility, and Viper looked at the few cars lucky enough to get spots directly in front of the funeral home. They were all empty.
Her shoulders relaxed slightly as her heels clicked along the bricks. She hated being out and exposed like this, but there was no other choice. Her .45 pressed comfortably against the small of her back and an ankle holster held a military combat knife against the leg under her pants. She had worked with less, in much more hostile territory. John’s viewing should be a walk in the park.
Light poured from the front porch, welcoming mourners with a comforting glow at odds with the nature of the event. As she moved up the steps to the front door, Alina glanced at the few mourners smoking on the wrap-around porch. Her brain registered the fact that all but two of them were Federal agents as she stepped onto the porch and walked toward the door. The two that weren’t she put down as spouses.
She noted all of this in a glance and reached for the door. Taking a deep breath, she paused for the briefest of seconds, her hand on the handle. Then, her lips tightening in resolve, she pulled it open and stepped inside.
The crowd in the hallway was immense and, as the door opened, all those near to it turned to look at the newcomer. Alina suddenly relaxed. Crowds comforted her. They were large and impersonal, and Viper knew how to navigate them with ease. Those near her turned back to their conversations as they realized they didn’t know her and Alina moved through the crush easily, heading toward the large double-doors on the right.
“There you are!”
Angela’s voice cut through the medley of conversations and Alina turned her head to see the brunette moving through the throng towards her.
“Stephanie’s ready to have your head!” she exclaimed, taking her arm and moving through the double doors with her. “Where have you been?”
“I had some things I had to take care of.”
This room was even more packed than the hall. Alina estimated close to a hundred people were crammed inside, shoulder to shoulder. Angela guided her through to the far side where the receiving line was dwindling down.
“Well at least you came at a good time. This is the shortest I’ve seen the line so far!” said Angela. “I think our entire graduating class showed up, not to mention so many FBI types I’ve lost count. Joanne’s been asking for you. She and Bill will be glad to see you’ve arrived.”
Angela deposited her at the back of the relatively short line and looked at her assessingly.
“You look fantastic,” she said approvingly. “I knew purple would look good on you.”
“Is that Mr. Gregson?” Alina demanded, staring at an older man on the other side of the room. “The gym teacher?!”
Angela glanced over her shoulder and nodded, turning back with a grin.
“I’m telling you, Lina, there are people here I haven’t seen since graduation,” she said. “Who knew John was so popular?”
Alina stifled a groan and finished scanning the crowds. She recognized more faces than she cared to remember and her heart sank. So much for sneaking in and out unnoticed.
“He always was,” she murmured.
“At least they’re not all women,” said Angela cheerfully. “A lot, but not all. Oh!” she lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Nipples is here. I thought Joanne was going to have a heart attack when she met her.”
John’s on-again off-again girlfriend had gained the dubious nickname of Nipples from Stephanie and Angela. Alina raised an eyebrow, curiosity getting the better of her.
“She? I thought that was a generic, collective term for all his girlfriends.”
“It kind of was. We couldn’t keep up with their names and they all fit the same profile, so it was just easier that way. This was the latest one,” Angela explained quietly. “I think her name is Cami, or something like that. When she met Joanne she started crying and told her she’d heard so much about her from John. I thought Stephanie's eyes were going to roll out of her head.”
“Where is she?”
Angela glanced around, then nodded toward the front of the room, near the casket.
“Over there, to the left, a little bit in front of the casket. She’s the one wearing the leopard print,” she whispered. “I mean, seriously. Who wears leopard print to a viewing?”
Alina followed Angela’s directions and her eyebrows soared into her forehead. Nipples definitely lived up to the hype. The buxom blonde was dressed in a skin-tight, leopard print pantsuit so low-cut that the girls would pop right out if she bent over. As it was, mounds of smooth flesh bulged up against the tenuous control of the thin fabric.
“Good God,” Alina muttered. “John liked that?!”
“Oh, they all looked like that,” Angela said cheerfully. “I want to know what the hell she’s wearing to push her boobs up like that. It’s gotta be a corset. I don’t care how much silicone is in those puppies, it’s not natural how high they sit.”
Alina felt a laugh bubbling up inside her and she tamped it down, pressing her lips together firmly. She watched as Nipples spoke animatedly to two men, long red finger nails flashing as she gestured with her hands to make her point.
“I can’t look away,” she murmured, transfixed. “It’s like watching a train wreck.”
“I know! Isn’t it the worst? Aren’t you glad I talked you into the new outfits? There’s no comparison between the two of you.”
Alina tore her gaze away from the blonde and looked at Angela.
“There’s no reason for a comparison,” she said. “What are you talking about?”
“Lina, you might think there’s no reason, but I assure you, everyone here is looking at you and saying he was better off with you than someone like her,” Angela replied calmly. “Oh look, you’re almost there.”
Alina looked forward to find herself three people back from John’s parents. Stephanie stood next to Joanne and, as Alina glanced up, she caught her eye. She smiled faintly and Alina sighed, nodding back.
“How long has Stephanie been standing there?” she asked Angela.
“At least two hours now,” she answered. “People just keep coming. I think it’s starting to wind down now, thank God.”
Alina moved forward, the next to go, and got her first good look at John’s parents. She hadn’t seen or spoken to them since she threw a cast iron teapot at their son’s head twelve years ago, effectively ending their engagement. She had departed for the Navy a few weeks later, never looking back. Now here she was, next in line to offer them her condolences with John lying a few feet away in an open coffin.
Joanne looked the same, but older. Her hair was impeccably styled, her makeup perfect, and she was dressed in a black suit with a light gray shirt under the jacket. John’s father, Bill, was just as tall as Alina remembered but his hair was completely white now, a stark contrast to skin deeply tanned from years spent in the sun.
Emotion welled up inside Alina suddenly like a geyser, choking her, and she pressed her lips together firmly to stop them from trembling. Memories flooded into her mind at the sight of the couple who would have been her in-laws if things had gone differently all those years ago. Suddenly Alina was remembering Joanne and her own mother, taking her to lunch after a long morning of fruitless dress shopping. Joanne was very close with her mother. After the engagement ended, Alina knew the friendship had continued. Something tightened inside her and Viper took a deep breath.
Those were memories better left behind. They had no place in the present.
“It’s about time you got here,” Stephanie told her as Alina stepped forward. “I’ve been dodging questions all night.”
“From who?” Alina asked, startled.
Stephanie rolled her eyes.
“Everyone!” she hissed. “Look around. It’s like a class reunion!”
Alina shook her head.
“I don’t know why they even remember me,” she muttered. “I was gone long enough. Don’t they have anything better to worry about?”
“Alina! My dear!” Joanne cried, turning to her as the man in front of Alina moved on to Bill. “Oh, it’s been so long!”
Alina found herself engulfed in a tight hug and a strangely familiar smell of flowers enveloped her. Good God, the woman still wore the same perfume!
“Joanne,” she murmured, lifting her arms to briefly touch Joanne’s shoulders before pulling back. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say.”
“Thank you,” Joanne smiled at her, her eyes watery. “It’s just such a shock! And it was for you too. I wanted to reach out to you as soon as we landed, but I didn’t know how to reach you. How are you?”
“I’m fine,” Alina told her, smiling faintly. “It was a shock, but I’ve had time to adjust.”
“You look wonderful,” Joanne told her. “I want to hear all about what you’ve been up to over the years. We’ll have a nice sit-down tomorrow at the luncheon.”
Alina nodded and smiled and moved on to John’s father.
“Lina!” he boomed, a wide smile creasing his face. “Thank you for coming.”
“Bill, I’m so sorry,” she said, taking his outstretched hands. “I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now.”
“Can’t you?” he asked gently, his blue eyes that were so much like John’s meeting hers. “I’m sure it’s very similar to what you’re undoubtedly feeling right now. Shock. Grief. And bloody discomfort at all these strangers milling around.”
Alina was surprised into a short laugh and Bill’s hands tightened briefly on hers.
“Something like that,” she agreed, pulling her hands away. “You haven’t changed at all.”
Bill tilted his head to the side and studied her for a second.
“You have,” he said unexpectedly. “You look different. More...I don’t know. Intimidating.”
“Bill!” Joanne exclaimed, overhearing. “Stop it! You’ll embarrass her!”
Bill raised an eyebrow and looked at Alina.
“Am I embarrassing you?” he asked. “I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not,” she assured him. “It’s fine.”
“See? She says it’s fine,” Bill told his wife as Alina turned away.
Her eyes fell on the gleaming black casket a few steps away and Alina felt her heart thump in her chest. The low drone of conversations faded into the background, and she sucked in a deep breath as her gut clenched. Suddenly her hands were trembling and she was having a hard time catching her breath. Memories chased themselves across her mind; hazy memories of a younger, happier John and a life so far removed Alina felt as if they were someone else’s memories. Yet, they were hers. It was as if seeing Joanne and Bill had opened a floodgate, unleashing emotions carefully buried for years.
She could feel dozens of pairs of eyes watching her, waiting for her to walk up to the casket and say her final farewell. A hot wave rolled over her and the trembling spread from her hands to rest of her as she took a step toward the coffin.
Alina couldn’t remember ever feeling so alone.
Then, suddenly, she wasn’t.
A strong hand took one of hers and Alina glanced up into a pair of green eyes, filled with understanding. She swallowed and closed her fingers around Michael’s. His warm clasp seemed to absorb the trembling from her hand and she took a deep, steadying breath. He didn’t say a word, but held her hand and stepped up to the casket with her, shielding her from the curious scrutiny with his broad shoulders.
Alina stared down at John’s impossibly still face, frozen in death. He looked at peace. Gone were the bruises and cuts that had marred his face and neck in the hospital. Gone were the habitually grim lines around his mouth, weary evidence of a career in federal law enforcement. Instead, he appeared to be finally at rest.
The trembling stopped and Viper felt herself grow calm once again. The grief that had threatened just seconds before receded, leaving her numb. John wasn’t there. The shell left behind was simply that: a shell. The John she knew, and had loved, was gone. There was nothing more for her to do here.
Alina turned away from the casket, gently pulling her hand away from Michael’s. She took one last deep breath and felt the haze clear from her mind, becoming aware of the low drone of conversation around her once again.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, glancing up at Michael.
His eyes met hers and he nodded.
“You’re welcome.”
Alina moved into the crowds, her shoulders squared and her back straight. One by one, old familiar faces from days long past stopped her, asking how she was and what she’d been doing all these years. As she moved further away from the gleaming casket, Viper never once looked back.
John was now where he always belonged: in her past.