The Night Stalkers White House by M. L. Buchman

Author:M. L. Buchman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, SOAR, Night Stalkers, 160th, White House
Publisher: Buchman Bookworks, Inc.
Published: 2016-06-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Beat: 1989

Beat really didn’t need any more alone time.

Six months she’d been traveling in Africa and, she really hated to admit it, she missed Frank. She’d decided after her parents had been such total pains about Frank, that she didn’t need any family. They’d hounded her so badly about “that boy not being good enough” that she’d cut them off. Had even taken to screening her calls with the answering machine. Finally, she’d decided that no one, including Frank, would have that hold over her and she wouldn’t let herself need anybody at all.

But, she hated to admit it, she’d missed him.

She’d returned from the Africa security assignment to Brooklyn both exhausted and turbo-charged. She’d showered in every barracks, hotel, and Secret Service office that had one, from Johannesburg to Cairo to Ramstein to JFK airport, trying to wash off the last six months.

She’d missed the premieres of Field of Dreams and Dead Poet Society. And she’d wager that without her guidance, or “hounding his ass” as he called it, Frank had probably gone to see nothing except Batman and the unpredicted hit Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. She’d been stuck with that on the commercial flight from Germany and could have shot herself. She’d fix his movie habits straight off.

After spending six months overseas, she thought maybe they could get together. At least for movies. There was no real question in her mind that Frank was the kind of man who would wait for her, simply because he said he would. He was just that much a man of his word.

The rest of it, well, she’d have to wait and see. Some great no-strings sex, that she’d definitely be up for. He’d be up for that. Wouldn’t he? She certainly wasn’t going to have with-strings sex, so it had better be good enough.

When she’d left, he hadn’t laid any guilt trip on her about staying single or anything, but there hadn’t been even one man on the road who’d measured up to the Frank Adams’ standard. More than once she’d cursed the damn street punk for ruining her for casual sex with other men. Whoever she hooked up with, they had a whole new level of fine they’d have to rate. And none had.

After her third shower, a meal, and sixteen hours of sleep, just to prove she didn’t need him that badly, she dialed his phone.

She had to get the Chinese grocer three times before she checked the number. She dialed it a fourth time to be sure.

Where the hell was he?

It might be six a.m. Friday morning here, but her body was still on Africa time and she’d been up for hours. Thought she was being nice by not calling him when she’d woken up at two a.m.

Well, she was supposed to have the next five days off, but it was clearly high time to head into the office. Someone would know where he’d gone.

# # #

Frank sat in the Secret Service liaison office at Fort Sam Houston.

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