Chapter 18 – Slimy Chum-Bucket

 

Crew –

Sitting beside Addison with my arm thrown over the back of her chair, I finger a lock of her hair idly. I do this staring across the table at Army Lieutenant Colonel Sheldon O’Rourke, as he feeds a ration of shit to the daughter of the man he had a hand in killing. As far as I can tell, she’s soaking it up like a sponge. I do my best to be the relaxed man who’s only here to be supportive of his woman, wondering how I’m going to handle giving her the truth.

It’s all I can do not to come across the table at him. I also contemplate the fact I regret not being able to do what I’ve learned to do best over the last ten years on American soil. To hell with the American justice system—there’s nothing I want more right now than to put a hole in his head and for him to buy it exactly the way Addison’s father did.

O’Rourke was surprised to see me join them. He covered his irritation well enough after I explained I have an interest in everything that has to do with Addison Wentworth.

So far, he’s explained how he met her father in the service when she was two and became good friends with her parents. It’s plain to see he’s a practiced hand at deception. If I didn’t know his background of committing treason for decades, I’d have a hard time believing he wasn’t completely genuine.

I do know from my contacts at the CIA, he never married, and has only had casual relationships with women. Listening to him spout his bullshit, I don’t like where I think this is going.

“I tried to reach out to your mother many times,” he explains.

“I’m surprised.” Addison leans into the table, listening with rapt attention. “She never spoke of you. I’d remember.”

He tries to cover his irritation. “I have to say, that’s disappointing.”

I do my best to sit relaxed in my chair.

He states instead of asks, “She never remarried.”

When Addison shakes her head, a small frown takes over her face. “No. She never looked at another man. My whole life, all she talked about was how he was the only one for her. He was ripped away from her in the worst possible way. She never recovered.”

“I wish she would have let me be there for her,” he adds, narrowing his eyes.

Yeah, this fucking pisses me off.

“I hope you can understand her need to distance herself,” Addison defends her mother. “She explained this to me when I was older. It’s what drove her desperation to disappear. It was hard for her to trust anyone after what happened. Especially when they started looking into her simply because she was trying to clear my dad’s name.”

O’Rourke leans into the table. “I wish I could’ve cushioned her from that. I was young, very low level. There was little I could do, but I could’ve offered her comfort. Helped with you. There was no need for her to go it alone.”

“She felt she couldn’t trust anyone, Sheldon.” Addison leans back in her chair and I let my hand rest on her neck. But I give her a squeeze, warning her to shut her mouth when she not-so-innocently asks, “Do you believe my father committed treason?”

Damn her. I told her not to dig.

Sheldon shakes his head. I’m not surprised his answer is obscure and convoluted. “Wes was a committed soldier, loved his country, took his service seriously.”

“Then why would they accuse him of such a betrayal?”

When I give her another squeeze, she tries to brush me off by throwing her hair over her shoulder, but I hold firm. If this is any indication of her ability to follow directions, I’m fucked.

O’Rourke shakes his head, faking it like a pro. “I have no idea. It saddens me now as much as it did then. I am relieved, though, I get to see you after all these years. You were a vibrant child. To see you grown and all you’ve accomplished,” he throws out a hand, “your parents would be very proud.”

“It’s a lot of work, but I learned from my mom hard work pays off,” she offers.

“What made you return to Virginia?” he asks.

There it is, the reason he’s here.

She goes on to explain about her mother’s ashes, running across Whitetail, and taking advantage of a good opportunity. The whole time, he settles in his seat, assessing her answers. He gives nothing away, proving he’s a practiced hand.

Picking up his wine glass, he tips it to her before taking a drink. “Your mother would be very proud. Your father, too. You’ve made yourself into quite a success.”

Addison smiles, but ignores his compliment.

“I am curious,” she starts before pausing. “How did you find me, and why would you think I’d be nosing around my father’s death?”

She just doesn’t stop. As I grip her neck again, she brings her hand up to cover mine, faking an intimate touch.

When I look at O’Rourke, his eyes are on his wine. He eventually looks up to Addison, giving her a small shrug. “What happened to your father weighed on my conscience for years. I used my resources to find you, and when I did, I learned you lost Anne. I can’t say exactly why I wondered why you moved here. And it makes sense you’d want more information about your father’s death. Who wouldn’t?”

It’s Addison’s turn to lean back and she reaches out for me, her hand clutching my knee.

“I’m glad I found you, though,” O’Rourke goes on. “It’s good to see you after so long. May I call you Abby?”

“No.” My voice comes out firm but deep, contributing my first word to their conversation. Folding my hand over hers on my knee, I continue. “You can call her Addy. That’s it.”

He raises a brow and gives me a curious nod. I certainly don’t need any curiosity directed my way, especially from him, but I’m all in now. No fucking way is he calling her Abby. That’s mine.

“Fair enough,” he relents and downs his last swallow of wine. Looking at Addison, he shifts to get up. “I am sorry to have startled you last week at the White House. My apologies, but thank you for meeting with me today. I hope we can keep in touch.”

Addison doesn’t agree, but she certainly doesn’t disagree. She does stand to shake his hand. Finally, after the two exchange goodbyes, he walks out the door, and she slowly turns to me.

I’ve known her two weeks and even though I know almost everything, including every inch of her body, I don’t know her instincts. I have no idea how her head works—if she bought into his fake sincerity or if she saw him for what he is.

I do know I need to tread lightly. She lost both her parents, witnessing one of them killed violently. I need to proceed carefully, something I have no experience at with a woman.

Crossing her arms, she gives her head a small shake and I’m afraid of what she’s gonna say, what she believed from the crap he spewed.

The second I open my mouth, heading into unknown territory, her eyes go big when she spews, “He is so full of shit.”

I quickly clamp my mouth shut and fold my arms. Surprised, I tip my head, wondering what she’s thinking. Finally, I agree. “Yeah.”

“Holy shit, did you hear him? I think he was into my mom.” Her face screws up, disgusted with what she saw. She throws her arms out to the side. “My mom. I don’t even know what to do with that. What do I do with that?”

I sigh, relieved she saw what I saw in O’Rourke. I’m also relieved I don’t have to convince her of what she’s smart enough to see for herself. I reach out for her, giving her hand a squeeze. “There’s nothing to do. But you shouldn’t’ve asked what you asked, I warned you not to. You need to let it go and let the CIA do their job.”

“I bet that’s why he framed my dad,” she says, dragging her hands up in her hair, not believing what she just heard. “He wanted my mom. He wanted my mom, Crew!”

“Baby—”

“I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I’m glad she’s not here. She’d feel guilty my dad was framed because some slimy chum-bucket who called himself their friend wanted her.” She slides her hands through her hair, shaking her head.

“Addison—”

“Are they close?” she bites out, her voice turning harsh. “Please tell me they’re close to taking him down. I mean, what in the hell are they waiting for?”

“They’re close, they just need—”

“He must’ve been doing all his awful stuff since before my dad was killed. That’s forever ago, Crew. What’s wrong with the government?”

“They’re—”

“I mean, I know they’re slow at everything, but this is crazy.” She frowns.

I sigh and cross my arms, letting her finish.

“How long are they going to let it go on? If he’s guilty, he’s guilty. I’m not sure how guilty one has to be before the CIA finally gets off their asses to make a move. Are there different levels of treason? I would think treason is treason, right? Seriously, though. Are there different degrees, like murder?”

When I wait a moment, seeing if she’s finished with her rant, she proves she’s lost her patience.

“Well?” Frustration seeps through her voice.

“They’re close,” I say, leaving it at that.

“That’s all? They’re close? You won’t tell me anything more?”

I reach out and pull her to me. “It’s all I know. With the CIA that could mean hours, weeks or months. My guess? Probably not months, more like weeks.”

She tries to push me away but I hold steady. “What are they waiting for? How much evidence do they need?”

“Addison,” I start and lower my voice, giving her a squeeze because she needs to do the same. “I was never fully in the loop and now I’m really not in the loop. Asa found out O’Rourke’s not workin’ alone. When they take him down, they want to make sure the entire operation is dead. Not maiming it, only to revive itself. We’re gonna have to be patient, let them do their jobs. Trust me—they aren’t happy they have traitors in the mix, especially as long as he’s been at it.”

“He’s not working alone?”

I shake my head. “They don’t know for sure, but their investigation has expanded. From what I saw today and know from the wiretaps, O’Rourke and those he’s workin’ for want to know what brought you back to the area. O’Rourke was told to make sure you aren’t diggin’ around for information on your dad’s death. I’m still trying to figure out what happened on the way home from the White House. They haven’t heard anything about that on wire. Until they take him down, I still don’t want you out on your own. For now, you’re good here at the winery, the house, and my camp. I’m curious to see if they intercept any calls about your meeting today.”

She looks up at me while raising her eyebrows. “I, um, need to go to Home Depot. Today.”

“What in the world do you need at Home Depot?”

“Um, everything.” Her brows rise like I’m an idiot for not knowing what she needs from a home improvement store. “Morris has cleared out the bungalow and I need to shop for the finishings. My plan was to rent it out and once I recoup the costs of finishing it, it’s pure profit. There’s plumbing, but it’s only roughed in. I need cabinets, flooring, paint, appliances. Everything, Crew. I needed it last week, but you’ve proven to be distracting. I can’t put it off any longer, I’ve got to go tonight.”

“What bungalow?” I ask, wondering what in the hell she’s talking about since I know every inch of her property.

“Surely you’ve seen it,” she explains. “It’s closest to your property, down in the valley.”

She can’t be talking about what I think she’s talking about. “Are you talking about the shack with the broken windows?”

She pushes me lightly and looks put out. “It’s not a shack, it’s a bungalow. It won’t have broken windows after I order them at Home Depot tonight. Like I said, my list is long.”

I sigh while looking up, and shake my head. I guess it could be worse. She could want to go to the mall.

I finally look back down and state, “I’ve worked for months to get my camp up and going, I finally get a group of trainees here, one of them is a pain in my ass like Asa told me he would be, and you think I’m distracting?”

“I’m not asking you to come with me. Morris can take me, or maybe I can get Evan to—”

“I’m coming with you,” I interrupt. No way am I letting her off this land without me.

“But you’ve got your,” she pauses and looks around, lowering her voice, “people here.”

“I’ll make time to get away,” I reiterate. “Please tell me you won’t take forever to pick shit out.”

“I’m a fast shopper,” she says. “Even if I love it, I don’t have time for it. I have a list and know what I need. It’s a long list, but I plan on having it all delivered. It just needs to be ordered and Morris is managing the contractors for me. They’re scheduled to start soon. It shouldn’t take long once they get going.”

“You’re gonna be a landlord on top of everything else?” I smirk.

She shrugs. “I guess. It’ll help pay off my business loan, and it’s a big one. I’ve procrastinated since I bought this place. It was part of the plan and I’m overdue getting it rented out.”

I lean in to kiss her forehead before letting her go. I really need to get back if I have to go shopping later. “Okay, but I’m running backgrounds on anyone you might rent to. I don’t want just anyone on your property. We’ll go shopping tonight when the winery closes. Be ready and we’ll get it done fast.”

She looks up with a small smile. “You haven’t seen my list.”

“Hey, lover-boy,” I hear coming from behind me, and I turn as Addison laughs.

Waddling toward us is Clara, smiling big with a hand holding her belly.

She looks to Addison. “The baby-daddy needs to drop off the hellions. He’s gotta go into the office, or so he says. I think he needs a break. Anyway, I’ll be done in thirty, they can hang in my office if that’s okay. He just called, they’re pulling in.”

Grinning, Addison pulls away from me. “It’s fine. We aren’t too busy—they can wreak havoc in the basement inglenook.”

Just as Clara’s about to answer, something catches their attention and they both turn to the front door.

“Again?” Clara seethes.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Addison mutters as she heads toward the front door.

A man is making his way through the tables with his eyes on Addison.  He’s dressed like a cross between Crockett and Tubbs and someone going to a polo match. Shit, he’s even wearing white pants.  Not only is he dressed like an idiot who’s full of himself, but he pulls a hand through his hair to cover the fact he only has eyes for Addison.  Appreciative eyes, dragging over every inch of her.  My muscles go taut as I follow, wondering who the hell he is.

When he opens his mouth to speak, Addison interrupts, angrily spitting her words first. “You were asked not to return, Tobin.”

Clara butts in, pushing her way into the conversation. “She’s not interested in whatever you’re offering. Quit expending what few brain cells you do have on trying to buy Addy out.”

When I get to the group, I stand behind Addison. The guy holds his hand low, palm out, in a calming manner. He tips his head and his tone is condescending when he placates, “Now, Addy, I only came to congratulate you on being the wine of the White House. I saw it on your website and read a small article featuring the highlighted items from the region. You’re impressive as always.”

“We’re hardly the wine of the White House. They featured us at one dinner. Singular—that’s it. I’m not trying to impress you. I wish you’d stop with whatever this is. I’m not interested. In anything,” Addison stresses.

“Who’re you?” I ask and put a hand on Addison’s waist, pulling her back to me.

“Oo-oo, this is gonna be fun! Let me introduce everyone.” Clara claps her hands, all of a sudden excited. Looking to me as she holds a hand out, gesturing to Crockett and Tubbs, she grins as she makes introductions. “This is Tobin McCann, a goopy-glop-of-a-man who runs around in pretty-boy pants with his mama’s money, trying to make himself feel bigger than he is,” she pauses, raising her eyebrows, “if you get what I mean.”

The guy frowns, opening his mouth to argue, but Clara doesn’t miss a beat.

“He’s been trying to invest in the winery for months as a guise, he’s really into Addy. Everyone can see this from a mile away. But since he’s goopy and gloppy—kinda like the gross monster in Candy Land where you get stuck and can never get out—Addy’s been putting him off.” Clara turns to the guy she just demeaned, his mouth hanging open in surprise. Clara notices this, too, and reaches to lightly press up on the bottom of his chin. Her voice is laced with fake concern when she goes on. “I know, I know, Tobin. That was my reaction, as well, the first time I saw Hercules, here. At least he has his shirt on today. Sometimes we refer to him as Zeus, but he’s young and virile, so Hercules fits. Oh, and he’s also knockin’ Addy’s socks off in more ways than one. So you see? There’s really no reason at all for you to return.”

“Clara!” Addison yelps.

With big eyes and a shake of her head, Clara replies, “What? It’s true.”

“Oh, you are really fired this time.” Addy’s frustrated, and I hide a smirk at the scene playing out in front of me.

Before anyone offers more insults, the front door bursts open. Two blond boys come running in, yelling, and causing a ruckus. Another smaller one follows, dragging up the rear.

“Addy!” the two big ones yell in unison. When they push their way into the middle of our strange circle, I hold firm when they throw themselves at Addison, pushing us both back.

Addison puts her arms around them both. “Hey guys. You come to eat all my Laffy Taffy?”

“No.” Clara turns on her mom voice. “No Laffy Taffy or sugar of any kind.”

“I don’t feel good, Mama,” the littlest guy groans, going straight to his mother.

Clara puts her hands to his face, tipping it up to look him over.

Tobin must not like being ignored, because he tries again. “Addy, if I could just have a minute—”

“Babe, Nick’s not lookin’ so hot,” a gruff voice interrupts and I see another man enter the fray with his eyes on Clara. He stands at probably five foot ten in a solid frame with light brown hair. “He doesn’t take those hills well.”

“He’d take them better if you didn’t drive like you’re on a rollercoaster.” Clara scowls at the man who must be the father of her children. “Look at him, Jack. You’ve made him sick.”

“But it’s fun,” the biggest boy yells louder than necessary.

“Yeah, there were no other cars, so today we got to go super-fast,” the other yells, outing his dad who’s frowning at him, probably warning him to shut his trap.

“My stomach hurts,” the little guy moans, clutching his middle.

Tobin, demanding attention again, steps toward us. “If I could just have a minute alone, Addy, I can explain the numbers. It’ll allow you to pay off most, if not all, of your loan.”

And that’s where he made his mistake. Because the second he got the words out of his mouth, Clara’s youngest turned away from his mom and spewed. Chunks of what looks like half-digested macaroni and cheese mixed with orange juice fly out of his mouth, hitting Tobin’s Sonny Crockett pants and stupid-ass loafers, the smell instantly infiltrating the room.

“What the hell?” Tobin jumps back as I move away, pulling Addison with me. Clara hovers over her youngest, consoling him as he starts to cry.

“Ew!”

“Gross.”

“Don’t step in it.”

“Get me away from the puke, it smells.”

As Clara’s older kids complain, I reach around and grab them by their collars, yanking them away from the mess. Their dad comes around to them, but Clara sees this and growls to her husband, “Don’t you dare leave. You did this, Jack.”

Addison steps back with us but looks to Tobin, who’s standing there with puke all over his white pants and loafers. Trying to hide the smirk on her face, she says like she means it with all her heart, “Thanks for stopping by, Tobin.”

His eyes get big. “Addy, my pants and shoes are ruined. Aren’t you going to do anything?”

She tips her head while biting her lip, looking down at his feet. “Yes, I agree, they’re most likely ruined. I hate to bring this up, because it’s not mannerly to say ‘I told you so,’ so I won’t. But I will remind you that if you were elsewhere at this moment, your lovely white pants and shoes would be intact. I do hope this is the last time I’ll need to request that you stay elsewhere. Anywhere but here is fine with me.”

Tobin’s face turns red, and balling his fists, he seethes, “Can I at least have a towel? I can’t get into my car like this.”

Pressing her lips tight, she gives her head a shake. From the looks of it, I’d say Addy is enjoying every moment of this. “Hmm. Sorry, but no. Please try to tiptoe out, we already have quite the mess here to clean up.”

Enraged, he turns—and not on his tiptoes—stomping out the door.

“Addy,” Clara calls as she holds her son to her side. I’ve never seen Clara serious before, but she is now. “I’m so sorry. We’ll get this cleaned up and it won’t happen again.”

Addison’s smirk turns into a glowing smile, lighting up her face. “I’m giving you a raise, and paid maternity leave. I really should’ve thought about that before, sorry. I’ve never had employees, let alone pregnant ones. Bring the kids anytime. They got rid of that pesky gnat that’s been swarming me for months. I couldn’t be happier.” She turns to look at all three boys. “Come with me. We’ll have Laffy Taffy and read the jokes, then we’ll go see if we can find the cows. You know the drill—you just can’t have the green apple ones.”

I catch her hand and when I do, she looks up to me with her big brown eyes smiling. I shake my head when I say, “You’re definitely not boring.”

If it’s possible, she smiles bigger.

“I wanna know all about that guy, though. I’ll be here when you close to take you shopping.”

She nods and leans up to kiss me as the boys pull on her other arm, wanting candy.

“Save me the banana ones,” I say against her lips.

Her big smile softens and she whispers, “From now on, they’re yours.”

What she doesn’t know is I’m claiming a hell of a lot more than her banana-flavored candy.

I turn and step over puke to get back to work so I can get back to her.