Top Secret Target. Dana Mentink

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       FOUR

      Ethan slammed through the front door at the first scream. He was down the hall and unexpectedly battling his way through angry wasps that thickened as he reached the bedroom. Kendra was on her hands and knees, crawling toward the threshold, insects enveloping her, trying to get her feet underneath her to escape. He caught hold of her arm and hauled her out of the room, slamming the door, which confined most of the vicious creatures. The remaining few continued to sting both of them, jabbing repeatedly. He killed as many as he could while they stumbled to the kitchen. Closing the swinging door, he grabbed the nearest weapon, a pot holder. With a startled mew, Baby scuttled under the nearest chair while he swatted the wasps that hovered over Kendra, trying not to hurt her.

      Tears of pain streamed down her cheeks and red welts began to appear here and there along her arms.

      “I think I got them,” he said. He scanned feverishly until he realized there were more wasps tangled in her red hair.

      “Quit wiggling,” he commanded.

      She twitched and flailed. “You try it sometime.”

      Commandeering her into a chair, he shooed the insects from the silky mass and squashed them.

      Ethan and Kendra sat still, listening for more.

      She breathed hard. “Somebody—” she swallowed “—somebody put the nest there, above the door.”

      Somebody? He filled a plastic bag with ice from the tiny freezer and gave it to her. “Hold this to the stings on your face. It was only some of the colony in that bag, fortunately. Looks like only half a dozen stings.”

      He filled another and grasped her forearm as gently as he could. He applied the cold to the worst of the welts. “Are you allergic to insect bites?”

      “Guess we’re about to find out,” she said, a wry twist on her lips.

      He grinned back. The lady had gumption. He’d known grown men so scared of wasps they ran at the first sight of one. “So who’s the ‘someone’?”

      She looked at the floor. “What do you mean?”

      “You know what I mean, so don’t play clueless. This isn’t the Red Rose Killer. This is personal, very personal, intended to shake you up, but probably not to kill you outright. So who’s the someone who wants to torture you?”

      Her swollen eyes weighed and measured him, like he had weighed and measured so many of the people he’d interrogated as a military cop. To trust, or not? It wouldn’t surprise him if she decided not to, in light of their contentious relations to date. Her gaze shifted to Baby, who was lying flat on the linoleum, tracking a stray wasp that traversed the kitchen. He could read the emotions flickering across her face. He’d saved her cat, a creature who obviously meant everything to her. Decision made.

      Kendra let out a breath that came out as a sigh. “My former boyfriend,” she said. “Andy Bleakman.”

      He waited, silent, sensing there was more coming.

      “He did prison time because of me.”

      “Why?”

      Her cheeks blushed crimson to match her red welts. “I don’t want to go into it now.”

      “No better time.”

      She yanked her arm from his grasp. “I’ve just been a wasp pin cushion and the bedroom is still full of angry insects, so I contend there is a better time. As a matter of fact, any time would be better than this time.”

      He liked the fire in her voice, the way she lifted that delicate chin and stared him down. It made his pulse kick up one notch.

      Back off, Ethan. No more hotheaded women for you, especially one who is the spitting image of Jillian. He cleared his throat. “Just give me the critical points then. What was Andy in prison for?”

      A beat of hesitation told him her trust only went so far. “Armed robbery.”

      “And he blames you.”

      “Yes. Jillian helped me get away from him, so now revenge on me is his mission in life.”

      Jillian helped? He considered that. Throughout their marriage Jillian had been busily helping herself, chasing after every adrenaline-fueled thrill she could get her hands on, but she also had a desperate need to be the hero. He could imagine her riding to the rescue of her helpless friend...and then discarding her like a used dishrag when she’d finished. Mouth open, he was just about to tell Kendra so, when it dawned on him that she looked plumb worn-out.

      He went to the truck and let Titus into the backyard, filling a bowl of water for him and another with kibble. Returning to the kitchen, he palmed his phone.

      “Who are you calling?”

      “Pest control to come and retrieve your wasp nest.” Ear to the phone, he strode to the refrigerator and opened it.

      “Looking for something?” she said, brows quirked.

      He poked around inside. “It’ll do.”

      “Do for what?”

      “Dinner. I’m hungry.”

      She gaped. “Are you expecting me to cook you dinner?”

      “No, ma’am,” he said. “I’m gonna do the cooking while you go wash your face and make sure you got all the wasps out of your clothes.” He pointed to a door. “Laundry room?”

      “Yes.”

      “There are no wasps in there and you probably have extra clothes there already.”

      She pursed her lips. “So...you can cook, Lieutenant?”

      “Call me Ethan, and I happen to be an excellent cook thanks to my mama, who won so many blue ribbons at the fair I lost count.” He gestured to the laundry room. “Get a move on.”

      “Are military cops always so bossy?”

      “Only the good ones. Go. Pest control is on the way.” He pulled the eggs from the fridge and began to prowl for a frying pan. Before she left, he’d located a spatula and brandished it like bayonet. “I’m armed and dangerous.”

      She smiled, as he’d hoped she would. “Okay. Be right back.”

      “Kendra?”

      “Yes?”

      “You said you’re Andy’s mission in life. What exactly does that mean?”

      She rubbed at a welt on her cheek, eyes gone dark. “He’s going to make sure that I suffer before he kills me.” Shoulders bowed, she left.

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