As it turned out, it was six hours before Megan was satisfied that there was no immediate danger at the apartment building. The plain brown package left in front of Normani's door did not contain a bomb. The dogs sent in to investigate were completely uninterested, and there wasn't anything to excite them in Normani's apartment either. A half a dozen agents had scoured the loft and found no evidence of tampering.
Mac was on his way over with the package and supplies for a few days stay. Megan estimated it would take that long to change all of the locks on the building, recheck all the security clearances of the cleaning crews, maintenance men, and inhabitants of the other apartments, and to review all of the transient visitors to the building for the last week.
Megan hadn't told Normani of the timetable yet and wasn't looking forward to doing it. Until they had a better idea of exactly what happened, she couldn't let Normani leave the safe house. Megan already had Mac arranging around-the-clock coverage. She intended to stay on-site for at least the next several days. The suite had two bedrooms, a large sitting area, a bar, and a widescreen TV. They would be cramped, but they would all have to manage.
Suddenly, a knock at the door brought Megan to attention. She crossed the width of the room quickly, reaching into her jacket to release the snap on her shoulder holster. She relaxed as Mac announced his arrival.
"What have you got for me?" she asked immediately.
Mac hefted a shoe-box-sized parcel in his hands. "I've got this. Bomb boys and evidence techs are done with it."
"Excellent." She indicated that he join her at the table in the sitting area. Normani appeared at the door of the master bedroom just as Megan was reaching for the parcel. Megan looked over at her, and their eyes met. She read the question that Normani could not bring herself to ask.
"Join us, please," Megan said quietly.
Mac looked at her quickly in surprise. Megan met his gaze steadily but said nothing. Once Normani took the seat to Megan's right, Megan carefully examined the exterior of the package. The only address was Normani's name written in block letters with black magic marker. The paper appeared to be ordinary packing paper sealed with scotch tape. A slight residue of fingerprint powder adhered to everything, inside and out. Megan carefully lifted the tape and removed the paper to reveal a cardboard box. She unfolded the flaps and lifted out a single sheet of paper. She looked at it for a second, then placed it flat on the tabletop so Normani and Mac could read the words printed there.
You are so beautiful.
Why do you waste yourself on those who do not appreciate you?
I know how rare and precious you are.
I can forgive your sins.
I am watching.
I am waiting for your sign.
"Oh, shit," Normani breathed.
"Have Taylor return this to the lab for handwriting analysis and a read-out on the paper," Megan said quietly to Mac. "We need photo surveillance of the street in front of the apartment building. I want to see any repeated passbyers, any loiterers, and anyone who seems the slightest bit out of place."
"It's a stalker, isn't it?" Normani questioned, hoping there might be another answer.
"I'm afraid so," Megan responded. This was the worst possible news. Stalkers were unpredictable, difficult to identify, and frequently did not have a previous police record. Everywhere Normani Hamilton went, she would be in potential danger. Megan's job had just gotten ten times harder, and considering the difficulties they already had in keeping track of a reluctant subject, the work ahead looked dismal.
"When can I go home?"
"It'll be at least a week," Megan said honestly.
"You've got to be kidding," Normani said incredulously.
Megan laughed humorlessly. "I really wish I were."
"Should I get the chief of staff on the line, Commander?" Mac questioned.
Megan sighed. "I'm getting to it. I just wanted to go over the tapes from the video cameras first. Have you got them?"
"Please don't call him," Normani said urgently.
"I have to. You must know that," Megan responded.
"Can't you wait? If you inform the White House, this will be all over the news tomorrow. I'll never have another moment's peace."
Megan looked at her across the table. There was something close to pleading in her eyes. She looked over to Mac.
"Could you give us a minute here?" Megan asked.
Mac looked as if he wanted to protest, but after a second, he nodded then stepped out into the hall.
"Miss Hamilton, this is serious. I can't keep something like this from my superiors."
Normani laughed in disbelief. "Don't tell me you're worried about being reprimanded."
"That's not the issue. If this escalates, I may need additional aid. I'm not willing to jeopardize your safety to protect your privacy."
"We're not talking about my privacy. We're talking about my private life, and that's what I don't want on the six o'clock news."
"Is it really the news you're worried about?"
"Perhaps it isn't. But in the end, it's all the same."
Megan shook her head. "Even if I thought it was possible, I wouldn't do it. You haven't exactly made it easy for us to protect you. I simply can't trust you."
"And if you could? If I promised to follow the letter of the law? Would that buy me a few days?"
Megan sighed then walked to the windows overlooking Central Park. The decision should have been simple. Protocol demanded that at the first sign of any threat, she intensify the security measures around the subject. Not notifying her superiors would certainly place her own position in jeopardy; she knew that without a doubt.
On the other hand, this was the first time Megan had ever had even a hint of cooperation from Normani Hamilton. She would need that cooporation if she were to have any chance at all of containing this situation. That made tactical sense, and at least for the moment, she had plenty of manpower to stay within the margin of safety.
From twenty stories up, Megan watched the horse and buggies winding their way through the lamplit streets of the park. Across the room, Normani remained silent, but Megan could feel her gaze on her back. More than that, she could remember the look in her eyes. Normani had been vulnerable, and for a moment, afraid. Megan tried to pretend that didn't affect her decision.
"I'll keep it quiet for now, assuming there are no further threats. At the next sign of contact, I'll have to advise the chief of staff."
Normani relaxed perceptibly. "You've got a deal. Thank you."
Megan turned from the window, her hands deep in her pockets. She leaned one shoulder against the wall, watching Normani intently. She'd been up all night the previous evening, chasing Normani through the club and the streets and then chasing her ghost away through sex. She was weary, and she still had hours of work to do.
"You have any idea who might be doing this?" Megan asked Normani.
"Why should I?" Normani responded, surprised and defensive.
"Someone who might have approached you– at the gym, the gallery, maybe in a bar?"
"No, no one."
"Someone you spent the night with?"
Normani returned Megan's gaze steadily, her face expressionless. "Most of the women I go home with have no idea who I am. If they know anything at all, they know me by Kennedy."
"Your mother's maiden name," Megan observed. "And what about their names? Can you give me any kind of list, any addresses?"
"Not unless you think the names 'baby, honey, and sweetheart' will do you any good," Normani responded through light laughter.
"What about someone you've seen more regularly?"
"There hasn't been anyone," Normani stated.
Megan ran a hand through her hair and sighed involuntarily. She hoped there might be a lead among Normani's sexual liaisons. If the stalker were indeed completely anonymous, unknown to Normani in any capacity, it would only be through luck that they would catch him or her.
"All right then, when Mac gets back, I'll need you to look at the security tapes with us. Perhaps you'll recognize someone going in or out of the building."
Normani nodded assent. She felt like she'd been up for 48 hours, and looking at Megan, she could tell that she was exhausted too. Megan's usually pristine suit was rumpled, and she had dark circles under her eyes. Normani had a sudden urge to brush the tousled hair back from her eyes. She had an even more disturbing desire to slip the suit jacket off Megan's shoulders and guide her toward the couch. The next moment, she imagined herself unbuttoning Megan's shirt and pulling her into a kiss. Normani stood abruptly, forcing the images from her mind.
"I'm going to take a nap if you're going to have me up the rest of the night," Normani said curtly.
Megan glanced at Normani's stiff back as she crossed the room and slammed the bedroom door behind her. Megan then slumped down on the couch tiredly, allowing herself a few moments of rest before the long night began. The next thing she knew, there was a knock at the door and movement in the room. She opened her eyes to see Normani about to open the door.
Megan was across the room before Normani could turn the knob. Grasping her forearm, Megan said sharply, "Let me do that."
Normani looked at Megan in surprise. The security chief had her gun drawn, and the look on her face was intent. For the first time, Normani appreciated the severity of the situation. She also understood that Megan Pete was completely serious about protecting her. Normani remembered the angry red scar on her thigh, a lingering testimony to the woman's willingness to put herself in danger to protect another. Her stomach churned at the image of Megan lying wounded on the ground, and for a second, she hesitated.
"Step behind me, please," Megan ordered steadily. Despite her worries, Normani stepped aside. Turning to the door, her gun now at shoulder level, Megan asked, "Who's there?"
"Stark and Mac," Mac replied readily.
Megan opened the door to the length of the security chain and peered out into the lighted hallway. Mac and the young female agent stood outlined in the doorway. She lowered her gun and opened the door to admit them. As they passed her, she briefly checked the hallway beyond, then reholstered her service revolver and secured the door.
"Have you got the tapes?"
"The tapes and dinner," Mac responded, unpacking several bags. He looked at his boss, knowing that she must be tired and hungry. The President's daughter was watching the commander as well. He couldn't quite describe the look on her face, but it seemed to be a mixture of fascination and uncertainty. There was something else there as well, something that reminded him of the way men looked at women. It was the first time he had ever seen anything so blatantly sexual between women. He wondered for a moment if the Commander was aware of it, or even if Normani was.
"Right," Megan responded. "Everybody grab whatever you want to eat and let's start looking at these tapes. Miss Hamilton, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to sit through this with us. It will be tedious, but you may recognize someone."
"Of course," Normani said in a strangely subdued tone of voice. "Didn't someone promise me a Corona?"
Megan looked at Mac with a raised eyebrow. "Mac?"
"Coming up," he said as he reached for the phone to call room service.
Three hours later, the pizza boxes were empty, a six-pack of Corona was gone, and daybreak was not far away. They had watched tapes from the previous three days and had found nothing out of the ordinary. It was unlikely that anything would turn up in surveillance from earlier in the week. Beginning with the morning shift, the agents would have to begin the labor-intensive job of interviewing all of the building's employees as well as everyone known to have made deliveries.
"Let's take a break everybody," Megan said with a sigh. "Mac, Stark– brief the others on what we need from the interviews. I'll stay here with Miss Hamilton. Let's plan on another update at noon."
When the two agents left, Megan turned to Normani. "You should get some rest. This evening, I want to go over anything you can remember from the past few weeks that might have been unusual."
"Right."
Normani stopped at the door to the master suite, turning to look at Megan. "You should get some rest too," she said quietly.
Megan smiled slightly. "My thoughts exactly." She gave Normani an oddly gentle look. "I know this is hard for you. Just bear with me for a few days, and hopefully, we can get back to normal."
"Normal?" Normani said with a tinge of sadness. "Commander, I wouldn't recognize it."
Megan stared thoughtfully after her as Normani closed the door between them. She could feel the loneliness penetrating the air, surprisingly similar to her own. She pushed the thought away and stretched out on the couch, finally giving in to her fatigue.
When she awoke sometime later, she found a light cover had been placed over her. She was momentarily disoriented. The curtains were drawn, and the room was in near darkness. There was the sound of quiet breathing in the still room. After a moment, she could discern the shape of someone sitting nearby.
"Couldn't sleep?" Megan said into the darkness.
"No, I always have difficulty falling asleep anywhere other than my own bed." A hint of sarcastic laughter followed. "That's probably why I never spend the night with anyone."
"Leave the door open and try again," Megan suggested. "Sometimes the sound of another's breathing is all we need to hear."
Normani was stunned. She hadn't meant to say anything about her insomnia, and Megan's gentle response caught her off guard. She couldn't remember the last time she had allowed anyone this close. It frightened her, and she resorted automatically to her long-practiced defenses. "I think it might be better if you joined me in the bedroom. I can guarantee you at least one of us would sleep eventually."
Megan shifted to a sitting position, spreading her arms out along the back of the sofa. She looked towards Normani's face in the shadows. "I'm not available."
The words came quietly and in a tone that might have suggested regret. Nevertheless, the rebuke stung. Normani knew that in her heart her offer had been serious.
"You certainly seemed available last night," Normani said sarcastically.
"That was just biology," Megan said gently.
"Biology," Normani snorted. "Is that what we're calling it now? You were hot, and you were ready. Like a Cesar's Pizza. Deny it if it makes you feel any better, but I know what I felt."
"I'm not denying anything. What I am saying is that nothing can happen between us."
Normani eased herself out of the chair and approached the sofa. She leaned down, placing an arm on either side of Megan's body. Their faces were only inches apart. "Relax, Commander. I'm not asking for a lifetime commitment. Why pretend you don't want me to touch you?"
Megan remained motionless. The air around her was charged with sexuality. Heat radiated from Normani's body, and the faint scent of excitement caused her own blood to surge. She was quite sure that Normani knew she was aroused. She couldn't alter the pounding of her heart or the quickening of her breath.
"Miss Hamilton, I do not want you to touch me."
"I can assure you," Normani whispered as she leaned yet closer, "I am just as accomplished as any professional you might procure to take care of your needs."
"All I need from you is your cooperation for a few days," Megan said in an even voice. She was surprised at the rapidity and accuracy of Normani's information gathering. She was far from embarrassed, however. There was very little difference between the casual sex that Normani enjoyed and what she herself sought in anonymity and privacy.
Normani heard the finality in her voice. She had been rejected before, but never by anyone she wanted quite this much. What angered her the most was that she sensed Megan's desire. Megan represented everything she could not have in her own life– independence, self-determination, and freedom. Knowing this fueled her urge to strip the self-contained agent of her will. For just those fleeting moments at the pinnacle of release, she wanted to hold Megan's self-restraint in her hands. Slowly she straightened.
"If you keep me cooped up in this place for very long, I won't be responsible for my actions."
Megan recognized the concession in her voice. She laughed softly. "I promise to make this as short and painless as possible. I'm sure you can be trusted, no matter how long it takes."
Don't be so sure, Normani thought to herself. If I have to be this close to you twenty four hours a day, I'm not sure I can trust myself.
...
Hey readers ☺️,
The mystery begins. I'm anxious to hear your thoughts! 👀
Thoughts on the note left outside Normani's door? Who do y'all think the stalker is and what do they want?
Thoughts on Megan not calling the White House? Her growing connection with Normani at the safe house? How long until they cross that line? 👀
Thoughts on Normani in this chapter? Her cooperating (for a moment, lol), flirting with Megan and feeling safe with her? Her moments of vulnerability?
As always, thank you all so much for reading! For my generous readers who have been leaving such thoughtful feedback and favoriting every chapter, I fucking love you! Your comments really make my day, so from the bottom of my heart, thank you! See y'all again soon for the next update 🤍