The Assignment (Elvis presley story)

Chapter 12

"Hominy? Is that like grits?" Elvis wasn't sure he wanted a taste of that, but Ava hadn't led him wrong so far when it came to food. "I'm going to need some way to work out," he told her. "If I don't watch it, I'll soon be able to not keep up with you." He said jokingly.

"We'll run off some calories this evening," She joked, wheeling the car to the left and crossing the bridge to the other side of town. "Nothing like hauling it around a mountain for about five miles to keep trim."

"Five miles?" He wanted to wheeze already. Because of his Seattle assignment, it had been over two weeks since his last run and he was beginning to feel out of shape.

"Don't tell me you're a candy-ass, Mr. Presley," She teased, laughter sparkling in her dark eyes as she looked over at him. "I had you pegged for going at it nonstop until I cried for mercy."

He rolled his eyes and sighed at the picture her words painted. He surely didn't need that image in his head. "About the grits or whatever it is," he muttered, trying to change the subject before he betrayed what he was imagining. "What else is on the menu?"

She laughed merrily and wheeled into the parking lot of a glass-fronted diner. With a flourish, she parked the car and sat back, looking at him with an impish expression. "C'mon, Presley, where's your sense of adventure?"

"Okay, okay, I'm working up to it," he said, feigning resignation. He liked it when she snickered. Or when she frowned. Or when she looked pensive or delighted or disgusted or uncertain. Lord, he was in trouble and hadn't a clue how to avoid the train wreak that was certain to happen when they both stopped fighting whatever this was arcing between them like summer lightening.

The search that day netted nothing, Elvis had hoped against hope they would find Vinland, he would confess and this would be over. Then he could go back to Red and give his report. If he stayed much longer, he knew there would be trouble that had nothing to do with the job. And everything to do with it.

The Walkers made him feel welcome that evening, treating him exactly as they would a member of the family instead of a guest. They obviously didn't know any other way. He ran with Ava, Marveling at her endurance. How could she look so damn fragile and possess such strength? She just fascinated the hell out of him, though he was careful not to show it in any way.

But his dreams that night drove him crazy.

When morning came, he found himself in the midst of a family gathering that started immediately after breakfast and looked as if it might last all day. Elvis stood on the back deck of the Walker's home feeling totally out of place. The house and yard had filled with family. They were celebrating a months worth of birthdays all at once. Apparently this was tradition. He had counted three cakes on the kitchen table before he was cornered by a group of woman and led outside.

Poor Ava seemed to be everywhere at once, looked harried but happy. Elvis had watched her dart across the yard hauling a tray of meat for her grandfather to put on his grill, then dash back inside to help her grandmother and the other women.

She had been pausing frequently, as she was doing now, to carry on telephone conversations with the search teams looking for Vinland and the explosives. She frowned as she put down the phone and hurried over to him for the current report.

"Still nothing," She told him. "You know what I think?"

"That he's deliberately waiting until the last minute?" Elvis guessed.

She drew her dark brows together. "You think so, too?"

Elvis shrugged. "In his place, that's what I would do. Wait until everybody stops looking. By that time, you won't have much credibility left with the locals. He's letting you cry Wolf."

She pounded her fist in her palm.  "Dammit, I'm playing right into his hands. But how can I not order searches when we know he's got the C-4? There are so many places he could plant it. Who knows where he'll choose?"

"Want a suggestion?" Elvis asked, planning to give it anyway.

She nodded enthusiastically since she wasn't a prima donna who insisted on calling all the shots. He really appreciated a woman who was willing to listen.

"Use the Explosive Ordnance Disposal teams to search the vehicles, homes and workplaces of those involved in his trial and conviction. He'll set those first. Do the fair only after everything's set up and ready to go."

"That's pretty much what they're  doing now, except that i asked them to go ahead and clear the bleachers." She shifted from one foot to the other, obviously antsy. "I should be over there, doing something myself." She threw her hands up in frustration.

"Not today. Not unless they find something." Elvis handed her a Pepsi from the cooler on the deck. "Here. If you hover, they'll be insulted and feel like you think they don't know what they're doing."

She was already nodding, muttering the word delegate to herself.

Elvis smiled, knowing that was her weakest point, the ability to relinquish even a little control.

But she was working on it.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! And thanks for reading! Xoxo