The End of Me (The Single Lady Spy #1) - Page 26/40

He clenched his jaw and gave me a steely look, "He isn’t even really dead, and I said sorry about the plane. I had no idea."

I sneered, "Tell that to my kids. Oh wait, you can't. They’re being protected by the witness-protection agency. Right." I slid the door shut and folded my arms. My neck ached still but he looked less than impressed, little shit.

Luce climbed in and passed me the small bag of snacks. I looked in and frowned, "This isn’t flavored water."

She nodded, "I know, but you shouldn’t eat all that artificial sweetener. It gave all the rats cancer, dude."

I wanted to snap at her, but I knew it was just that I was losing my mind. I took deep breaths and reminded myself, it was just flavored water.

I took the cap off the bottle of sparkling plain water and shuddered when I took the first sip. It was bitter and horrid. I gave her a look. Her eyes widened, "What?"

I snatched the orange juice out of her hand and passed her the water.

"I don’t drink that crap, it's bitter." She reached for the juice.

"Then we compromise." I swatted at her and sighed taking the water back. I opened the van door and dumped some of the water out. I poured the juice into the bottle and passed her back the half empty bottle of juice.

She scowled, "You suck."

I nodded and sipped my flavored water.

Coop climbed in, stuffing a protein bar in his mouth. When Jack got in, we drove to the spot on the map. It was a flower shop, last time I had come by. I glanced out and frowned at the small sign.

"Lester's Art Hut?" Coop asked.

I nodded, "I guess. Maybe he sold it. Maybe they know where he went." I climbed out.

Coop did the same, "Wait. What if they're expecting you?"

I laughed and limped to the front door. I opened it and smiled. It was Fitz's place, for sure. It still looked like the set of the movie The Birdcage.

Coop stalked in behind me, stopping and pressing his body against mine. I don’t think he even noticed me. His mouth was agape as he looked about, "Where the hell are we?"

It was decorated like it was a PRIDE float.

I looked back, wincing at my sore neck, "Uncle Fitz's."

He pointed, "It said Lester."

I shrugged, "This is Fitz."

He came around the corner in a pale pink bowling shirt and a beaming grin, “I knew that voice, the second my ears heard it.”

His Jersey accent was replaced by a southern one. He was big on characters.

He spread his arms like wings and pulled me in when I stepped to him.

“Uncle Fitz,” I whispered.

He kissed the top of my head, “I heard you are in some trouble, young lady.”

I nodded into his silky, pale-pink shirt. Hugging him was like coming home.

“I’m in huge shit.”

He chuckled, “Who is that sexy piece of military man-meat?”

I snorted, “Coop—Uncle Fitz, Uncle Fitz—Coop.”

His hand left my back and I felt the motion of them shaking hands.

“Pleased to meet you, son.”

I looked back at Coop and winced when my neck turned.

Fitz swung an arm around me and waved his hand at Coop, “Tell them others to come in too.” He walked me to the back of the store and through a dark hallway, “You are in serious shit. Your dad never wanted you to find this.”

I tried to look up but my neck was killing me, “What is it?”

He chuckled again, “Oh lordy, you are gonna be the death of me.”

Chapter Eleven – Magic beans

The heat permeated through my flesh and into my muscles. I moaned as it vibrated softly and massaged my aching neck.

“Got that thing off of the Home Shopping Network. They sent it to me for free ‘cause I spent over a thousand dollars on there last year. It’s called the Magic Beanbag. You heat it in the microwave, and then plug the vibrator in and put the beanbag in the holders and voila, a heated massage.” Fitz smiled and passed us each a margarita.

I drank the salty, lime drink and moaned, “I missed you.” My voice had a slight vibration from the vibrator.

Coop watched him, still not mellowing out, “It’s a bit early for marg’s, isn’t it?” he asked with a definite tone.

Luce scoffed, “It is never too early for a margarita, and after the week we’ve had, I think we should have two.”

Fitz beamed, “I like you!”

She grinned, “Likewise. New favorite uncle, right here.”

Jack smiled like he was listening to bible study or watching a documentary. He never seemed to engage much. It was like he was taking it all in.

Coop sighed and sat on the oversized, floral couch. It matched the room beautifully. I felt like I might actually be in Savannah, Georgia or somewhere South and warm.

Fitz’s dark-brown eyes sparkled when he looked at me, “What do y’all know?”

I shook my head and leaned back into the massage, “Nothing.”

He crossed his arms and sat in the fancy armchair, “Well, I knew this was coming. I knew James was onto something.” He sighed and looked around, “You have to know, once this can of worms is opened there ain’t no coming back.”

I furrowed my brow, “Is this what killed my dad?”

He nodded, “You could say that.” He looked uncomfortable, “I don’t want this to ever come out. I don’t want to be the reason you know jack shit.”

Coop placed the full glass on the coffee table and leaned forward, “Who are you?”

Fitz’s eyes darkened, which didn’t seem possible. His old, tanned face darkened with them, “I was in with Lincoln, her daddy. We enlisted same year, joined CI same year, and I retired the year he was gone.”

I could see the skepticism on Coop’s face. It made me smile. Coop gave him a look, “How is that possible?”

Fitz brushed the comment off, with a truly-feminine hand wave, “My life before doesn’t matter. I’m Fitz now, and I’m living the life I always wanted to.” He stood and walked to the kitchen. He did what my mom did, and talked as he sliced and stirred, “Back then, Gays had no choice, but to be in the closet. But Linc knew, he knew day one. We were in basic together and he made a shitty comment at me. I could have slapped him silly, but I just laughed it off. We were friends instantly. He saved me tons of times. Covered for me, so I could meet up with,” a slow smile crept across his face, “Friends. I was indebted to him the day I met him.” He pointed his huge knife at me from across the room, “He made me godfather of this pain in the ass, the day she was born, her and Sissy.” He winked, “I always imagined I was more of a fairy godmother though.” Luce and I laughed, but Jack snorted some of his drink and Coop looked confused. He wanted the story.

“You’re Lieutenant Daily,” he whispered.

Fitz’s eyes lit instantly. I could see his hand tighten on the grip of the blade. I put a hand in the air, “He has one of those memories, Fitz. Every detail of everything he has ever read or seen is in there.”

Fitz’s stormy look never left.

I looked at Coop glaring, “Keep your mouth shut and let him talk.”

Coop gave me the look, I was getting used to, “You both have five minutes to have this all make some sense, before I drag your ass out of this place. This feels like a stall, like he’s waiting for the backup.”

Fitz started to laugh, “Oh honey, I am dead. Didn’t you read that little chestnut in the files, Mister Memory Bank?”

Coop sighed, “I only saw a few comments about you, like the godfather thing. They didn’t have anything about the fairy godmother though.”

Fitz laughed, “You are an animal in the sheets, aren’t you? I, myself, love control freaks.”

I grinned at Coop’s tightening jaw.

Fitz challenged him with his stare, but Coop didn’t bite. Fitz finished cutting the fruit salad, “Anyway, how much do y’all know about the second world war?”

I rolled my eyes, “Can you stop with that accent? It’s annoying.”

He shook his head, “No. I choose my reality to be the gay version of Gone with the Wind.” His eyes lit up, “I have some of the dresses; wanna put some on for the rest of the story?”

I giggled and shook my head. Jack swallowed nervously, Luce looked more scared than he was.

I winked at Fitz, “They don’t get your sense of humor.””

Coop spoke through his teeth, “Second world war?”

Fitz pointed the knife at him, “Right. Anyway, did you all learn about how Hitler was taking the best of the best as far as scientists and intellects were concerned?”

I nodded, “Yeah. We’ve all seen Indiana Jones.”

He shook his head, “I swear to God in Heaven, nine minutes is all I need with Harrison Ford in that outfit, with that whip.” He fanned himself, “Whew!”

The others laughed, getting used to the show. Fitz was crazy.

He nattered as he peeled a massive watermelon and cut it into tiny pieces, behind the huge marble island in the kitchen. “Well, when the other countries, the Brits especially, found out Hitler was doing that, they went nuts. Thus formed the much more modern spy agencies we all work for. The scientists were lost as the war ended.” I noticed the subtlest grin crossing his lips.

“What does this have to do with the Burrow?” Coop asked. I could tell he was beyond annoyed.

Fitz froze. He looked up, “You said you knew nothing.”

I shook my head, “We know James was looking for the Burrow. Him and a guy named Gustavo Servario. That’s it though. It feels like nothing.”

Fitz looked at each of us, “You all are in over your heads.”

My spine started to tingle; his Jersey accent was back.

He placed the knife down, “Have you spoken the word Burrow to anyone beyond you?”

I shook my head, “No, but we spoke about it at the bugged house. The government knows about the Burrow. They’re the ones trying to get it.” I was lost. I looked at Coop; he looked the way I did.