Bombshell
Page 88

 Catherine Coulter

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His eyes were on her mouth. He gave her a grin that could lead a girl astray if she weren’t chained to the path. “I’ll take the first. No, wait, the second, when you kissed me. I gotta think about this.” And from one moment to the next, his eyes closed, his head fell to the side, and he was out.
She stood over him a long time, studying his face. That something special she saw in him—she was thinking part of it was pure grit. She had to admit she didn’t mind the pretty face, surely a treat to see across the breakfast table every single morning, but she knew if the Fairy Godmother of Good Looks hadn’t perched on his crib railing, she would still fly to him like a buzzed moth. As she’d journeyed through her twenties, she’d come to see herself as the consummate kick-butt DEA agent until—until what? Until she ran the Agency? Now, there was a thought—all alone at the top? Maybe there could be something else in her life now.
“Anna?”
She jumped, turned to see Ruth in the doorway.
“Sorry I startled you. How’s Griffin?”
“He’s out, but before he cashed in his chips, he thought he was winning the jackpot.” Well, she felt like she’d surely won.
The silly look on Anna’s face gave Ruth a very clear picture of what had happened. Very nice, she thought. Very nice indeed. “Nothing like anesthesia and drugs,” Ruth said. “Dr. Chesney said he’d be smiling and sleepy for a good eight hours. Then he’d hurt a bit, but he’ll heal quickly, and that’s all that counts. All the rest fades into the past over time.”
“He wants to be out of here tomorrow.”
“He’ll probably be good to go. We’ll see how he feels in the morning. We’ve got all our people out, federal and local, manning checkpoints and looking for those morons who attacked you. No luck yet.”
“What about Salazar?”
“Everyone’s agreed now, no more waiting. We’re serving a federal search warrant on Salazar’s place in the morning and bringing him in for questioning. In fact, we’re bringing in every MS-13 thug we can find in three counties. They’ve started a war by attacking you and Griffin, and they’re going to lose it.”
“Griffin’s gonna want to be in on all of it.”
“Sure thing, if he’s up to it.”
Anna looked down again at Griffin, saw he was breathing easily, deeply. “I think I’ll stay here with him tonight. Did you find Monk?”
“I finally found him under your bed. He’d ripped open the bottom of the mattress and burrowed up inside. I pulled him out with an EMT’s help, stuffed him into his traveling case, and took him home along with cat food and his litter box. He’s calmed down now.”
“What did Brewster think of a cat who could eat him for breakfast? Monk weighs a good twenty pounds.”
“It was Brewster who got him to come out of his carrying case. The boys were ready to hurl themselves in front of Brewster if Monk attacked him. The funny thing is, after the two of them stared each other down, sniffed, growled, and hissed, they decided to have a nap together. The boys are still hovering, in case. Don’t worry. When I left to come here, Monk was washing himself on the sofa, Brewster standing guard.” Ruth patted her arm. “Griffin’s okay, cat’s okay, all of you are safe.” Ruth looked at the Band-Aid on Anna’s cheek. Both of them were very lucky. She started to ask her if she’d rather come home with her, but kept silent. It was probably safer here, both for her and for Griffin, especially with the guard posted outside the door.
“You do need to rest, Anna; even if you didn’t get shot or burned, you’ll feel it tomorrow.” And because she knew Anna needed it, Ruth gave her a hug and said against her hair, “This will be over soon. It can’t be long now.”
•   •   •
WHEN GRIFFIN CAME TO at three o’clock in the morning, he knew where he was immediately, and that was good. He queried his leg. Surprisingly, he didn’t feel a lick of pain. The nurses had propped his leg up on two skinny hospital pillows and he was toasty warm, his brain still buzzed with sleep and drugs. He heard breathing and froze, reached out his hand to flip on the directional lamp fastened to the side of his bed. He saw Anna not six feet from him, sound asleep on a narrow hospital cot, covers pulled up to her nose. Her face was turned toward him, and her dark hair hung over the side of the cot nearly to the floor. He hadn’t realized her hair was so long, since she usually wore it braided or up in a ponytail. He knew her face well now, and after only two days. Amazing. He also knew how she tasted, how she felt against him, how she was so brave it scared him. He decided then and there that he wanted to visit Bosard, Louisiana, with her, wanted to look out at the bayou with her, and have her show him alligators. He wanted to meet her family and see if she resembled the mother who’d named her Lilyanna.