forensics team working the bedroom to follow him. “Tag this and let’s get it looked at,” Mac ordered. “It’s a satellite phone. I need to know if he’s been talking to anyone else and, if so, who.”
The tech took out her camera and started taking pictures.
Mac took out his cell phone and punched the number he was looking for. They’d talked twenty minutes ago and it was time for another conversation. The man answered on the second ring: “Director Mitchell. I had a thought …”
* * *
Mac sipped his Vodka Tonic and fell back into his soft leather airplane seat. “We did good, Dara Wire,” Mac said, raising his glass.
“We did at that, Mac McRyan,” Wire replied, returning the toast.
They each took a long sip of their drink and silently thought of the events of the last week.
“I’m just bitter about Pope,” Wire complained after a minute. “I wanted that bastard so bad.”
Mac nodded. “You never know, we might still get some justice,” he said, thinking about the last conversation he’d had with FBI Director Mitchell before he got on the plane. Pope had indeed gotten a phone call. The only question was from whom.
* * *
At a little after 2:00 a.m., Mac pushed his way in the back door of the house and dropped his duffel bag in the laundry room off the back of the kitchen. Despite his three drinks on the plane, he wasn’t ready to be done. In the wine rack on the counter he found a great Pinot Noir. He opened it and poured himself a glass, held it to his nose to breathe in the aroma and took a long satisfying sip, swirled the glass and took another, letting the wine slowly flow down his throat, gently warming his insides. As he set his glass down on the center island, he noticed headlights pulling up in front of the house. Thirty seconds later Sally burst in the back door.
They stood and stared at each other.
“You look so happy,” Mac said with a slight smile. Then his head dropped. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you tonight.”
“You just look … so … tired,” Sally replied sympathetically, but then she smiled. “But I’m so proud of you.”
He smiled tiredly at the compliment. “You know,” Mac said quietly, “four days ago we toasted to life altering events. Then all this happened and we never finished …”
She ran to him and they embraced, kissing each other deeply. He slid her jacket off and tossed it away while pushing her up against the stainless steel refrigerator. He leaned down and kissed her neck while sliding up her skirt and lifting her up. Sally wrapped her thin legs around his waist and moaned as she grinded against him.
He leaned back and pulled open her white silk blouse. He freed her breasts from her bra and dove into them, getting lost in them, breathing her wonderful smell in and reveling in her body’s response to him. He moved his mouth back up to hers, taking her in, kissing her passionately as she ran her hands through his hair. After a minute, Sally let her legs loose of him and pushed him back against the center island. She quickly pulled his v-neck sweater over his head and then kissed him again.
“We should …” Mac panted, “move this … upstairs …”
“Yeah,” Sally gasped, catching her breath, grabbing his hand and dragging him quickly from the kitchen, “… yeah, we should.”
Forty-five minutes later they rested naked on their bed, only covered by the bed sheet. Sally laid her head across his chest, lightly running her fingers over his stomach, tracing around his navel with her right index finger.
They never made it to the bedroom for the first round, giving into each other halfway up the stairway to the second floor. “How the banister held us I’ll never know,” Mac remarked, laughing.
Sally giggled, “That required real trust on my part. My little bare butt was suspended ten feet over the dining room. I could practically reach the chandelier.”
“I work out,” Mac answered confidently. “I had you all the way.”
She turned her face up to his and kissed him lightly. “I know you did. But you know what was even more impressive?”
“What?”
“Your turn around time for round two once we got here to the bed was like what, a minute?”
Mac laughed again, “That was all you, babe. That little twisting maneuver you made with your hips? Oh my God, you have to do that again.