Chapter Fourteen
Late Friday afternoon, Walter frowned as he hung up the phone. "Was that
Cabe?" asked Happy as she walked up to his desk. "He doesn't have a case for
us, does he? I have plans."
"No, not a case," he replied . "He's bringing in a new trainee on Monday.
His name is Tim Armstrong."
"Sounds like a putz." Toby came over to stand beside the mechanic. "What
do you wanna bet Cabe waited until we were on the verge of leaving for the
weekend to tell us so we wouldn't have time to hack into the guy's records."
Sylvester chuckled. "It's like he doesn't even know us sometimes."
Paige joined the others gathered around Walter's desk. "Just out of curiosity,
did you guys hack into my background before or after you asked me to be part
of the team?"
"Neither." "Before." "After?" Walter, Toby, and Sly all answered at the
same time. "I did not hack your records," added Walter. He glared at the
other two men.
"I just dug into your DMV file," the shrink offered.
"I might have peeked at your college records." The human calculator's face
had turned bright pink.
"I didn't care enough to bother," said Happy. "I figured if Walt trusted
you, I was good with it."
"So nice to know my colleagues had so much faith in me." Paige crossed her
arms over her chest.
"That's all water under the bridge," said Toby. "We all love you now. Granted,
some of us more than others." He smirked at Walter, who rolled his eyes. "Now,
if you'll excuse us, Happy and I have plans for the rest of the weekend."
He threw his arm around her shoulders.
She slipped out of his hold. "I said I had plans."
"Do they include me?"
"I'll let you know." She spun around and walked away but not before everyone
saw the smile on her lips.
"That's my cue," said the psychiatrist, adjusting his hat before following
after her.
"Wait," Walter called out. Toby and Happy stopped in their tracks. "Cabe
also said he got back the report from forensics about the vehicle that hit
me. They didn't find any evidence that would lead to a suspect."
"So we're SOL," Toby said. "I still think it's far-fetched. . ."
"The fact someone took the time and trouble to leave no trace says a lot,"
Happy pointed out. "Someone out for a joyride wouldn't have bothered."
"But we still have no idea who would do such a thing and why." Paige waved
her hand at the stack of files on her desk. "We've gone over every case with
a fine-toothed comb. Everyone has been accounted for."
"Well, I for one, am not going to let it spoil my days off," announced the
shrink. "Come on, Hap, let's get out of here." They continued on their way
out of the garage.
"I should get going too," said Sylvester. "I'm deep cleaning my apartment
this weekend."
"Sounds like fun," Paige said as he gathered up his gear before departing.
"So. . ." She sat on the corner of Walter's desk. "What are we doing tonight?"
"I thought we were going out to dinner?" He looked confused.
"Yes, but. . .is that all?"
Comprehension dawned in his eyes. "Oh, uh. . . But won't Ralph be there?"
He grabbed his tie and loosened it.
"He's going over to Tyler's then they're going to a Forest Braves jamboree
planning meeting. He won't be home until after ten." She knew she shouldn't
be amused by his discomfort but she couldn't help herself. He was so cute
when he was nervous.
"Okay. . . D-Did you decided where you want to eat?"
"I was thinking of a very exclusive place."
"Would. . .wouldn't we need reservations?"
"Nope. I know the owner." She slid off the desk and moved closer. "You know
her too."
"Y-You mean your place, don't you?"
"Yep." Paige smiled before she twirled around and walked over to her desk.
"Whose car are we going to take?"
"Yours."
"You know, you've hardly driven your new car since you bought it."
He just shrugged. "It's easier to take yours."
She stared at him as he averted his eyes, stuffing his laptop into his backpack.
"You didn't have to buy one like mine. You could have bought something else."
"Like what?"
"Like that Corvette."
Shrugging again, he said, "I could have. But I didn't. What I bought is
more efficient."
"Efficient." She chuckled at his use of his favorite word. "I saw you drooling
over that ‘Vette. . ."
"I was not drooling."
"Well, not literally, anyway. You could have bought it if you wanted to.
And I think you did."
"Dammit, Paige, if I had wanted to buy the Corvette, I would have bought
the fucking Corvette!"
His shouted words echoed throughout the garage. Stunned, Paige watched as
his anger swiftly became remorse. "Oh, God, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He tossed
aside his pack and took a step toward her. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I-I,
uh. . ."
"I struck a nerve, didn't I?" she asked, still shaking a little from his
outburst. "You did want to buy that car. Why didn't you?"
"I-I had m-my reasons." He was back to avoiding her gaze again, and she
knew she wasn't going to get a better answer any time soon.
She sighed wearily. "Fine, we'll take my car. If you still want to go, that
is."
"I-I. . . Yes."
She slipped on her jacket before picking up her purse. "You never did tell
me about your nightmare the other night. You were angry with me then, too."
"I am not angry with you." His compressed lips and fisted hands told her
a different story though.
"Sure seems like it to me." She took a deep breath. "You snapped at me,
like you did just now. I need you to tell me what I've done that's made you
so upset. It's the only way you're going to get over it."
"You've been listening to Toby." Walter began pacing back and forth behind
his desk.
"Maybe I have," she said, and he heard the sarcasm in her tone. "He is a
Harvard-trained psychiatrist after all."
He came to a halt, grabbing the back of his chair. "Fine. I'll tell you
about my dream," he said, staring at the surface of his desk. "We're in that
room and we're about to have. . .have sex. . .b-but you push me aside and
call me a f-freak then let some other man. . .have. . .have you."
Lifting his head, he saw her biting her lip. "I would never do that. Never."
Her eyes shimmered with tears.
"But you were going to let those men. . . Let them. . .have you. Was I so
terrible, you'd let them. . ."
"Oh, my God, you think I wanted to. . .with those men?" Paige flung down
her bag then strode over to stand across from him. "I was trying to save us.
. .you. . .the only way I could. You thought I was going to enjoy it?"
"No, but. . ."
"Dammit, Walter, it wasn't about sex. It was never about sex. It was about
how much I love you and how I wanted to keep you alive."
"I'm sorry." His words rasped in his throat. "I know that. It's. . .It's
just. . .I know I'm not good enough for you and. . ."
"Stop it, just stop it," she cut in, pressing her fingers to her temples.
"For someone who's a megalomaniac, you sure suffer from low self-esteem. I
suppose you need me to tell you again you're the best lover I've ever had
or that you have the biggest. . ." She waved a hand at his groin. "The sad
part of it is, it's true. On both counts."
Drawing in a ragged breath, she said, "Maybe we. . . Maybe we should take
a break this weekend."
He stared at her, panic surging through his body. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, maybe I should go home and spend time with my son and you should
stay here and spend time doing. . .I don't know, work on one of your projects,
whatever. " She reached out and placed her hand on his.
"I love you, Walter," she said, "please don't think I don't. It's just.
. . Things between us got intense so fast and it feels like I can't catch
my breath anymore."
"Okay," he murmured, knowing she had a point. They had both been caught
up in a whirlwind of emotions since they'd been held hostage, emotions he
was having trouble dealing with. It didn't mean he had to like it though.
But if it was what she wanted. . . "You're right, you should spend your days
off with Ralph. I'll be fine."
"If you're sure?" He could tell she was wavering, the thought of spending
time apart was making her as anxious as it was making him. Her face was pale
as she wiped at her tear stained cheeks. Paler than normal. Was she ill? Or
was it because she was pregnant? An urgent need to know, one way or the other,
swept through him.
"Paige, are you. . .?"
His question trailed off as she raised her damp eyes to his. Oh, God, what
if she wasn't? What if she'd lost the baby and hadn't even known she had been
carrying it? Or what if. . . His stomach churned as he didn't even want to
consider a third option. The desire to know vanished as quickly as it had
come.
"Uh, have a pleasant weekend," he mumbled as he moved away from his desk,
intending to go upstairs and. . .what? Cry? Break things? Scream until his
lungs gave out? Because he felt like doing all three.
"Walter. . ." Her voice cracked but he didn't dare look at her. "Um, you,
too."
From the corner of his eye, he saw her pick up her things, then heard her
footsteps carry her toward the door. As it creaked shut, he fought the urge
to run after her, clenching and unclenching his fists until he heard her drive
away.
His eyes zeroed in on the car keys sitting on his desk. The air in the garage
abruptly felt oppressive and he needed to escape. Snatching up the keys, he
hurried outside, unlocking his new car and getting behind the wheel. He started
up the engine, hoping if he encountered any coyotes, they would know to stay
the fuck out of his way this time.
"What the heck is going on?" Walter walked down the stairs Monday morning
as loud music blared throughout the building. He came to a halt at the sight
of Toby dancing on his desk, wearing a coconut bra, as Ralph, Sylvester, and
Happy watched.
"We dared Toby to dance," replied the boy genius. "I don't think he's trying
though."
"Hey, I'm tired," said the shrink as he lazily wiggled his hips. "This is
my second song."
Ralph crossed his arms. "The agreement was for three songs. Just dance,
monkey."
Walter rolled his eyes. "Toby, you might want to take off your bra. Cabe
and his new trainee are due to arrive any minute."
"Why would I do anything for that jerk?"
"How do you know he's a jerk? You haven't even met him." Walter spun around
as Paige emerged from the kitchen area carrying an egg bagel and a latte.
To his dismay, she appeared well-rested and relaxed. Her weekend must have
gone much better than his had.
"We know his type. Prom king, football star. . ." Toby said derisively.
"You hacked his records, didn't you?" Paige glared at the other man.
"You need more than a high school degree when evaluating someone," Sly chimed
in.
"Thank you, Sylvester." Paige smiled at the human calculator.
"So I pulled his college record."
Paige let out an exasperated sigh. "And we're back to normal."
"There's a big gap in his history." Toby hopped down off his desk. "It's
a total black hole."
"You're threatened by an intern?" Walter shook his head. "He's only going
to be here for a few weeks. The efficient move is to accept him as part of
the team until he moves on to his next assignment."
The door creaked open as Cabe walked through it. "Team Scorpion," he said
as a tall, blond man entered the garage behind him. "Meet my new trainee.
Tim Armstrong."
Walter took one look at the newcomer and his stomach twisted into a knot.
Tim Armstrong was everything he would never be - normal. And the man was staring
at Paige like he'd never seen a woman before.