Split Second

public service stint. It'd be like racing your grandmother with lead weights on her feet.'

'We'll see. You might surprise yourself. One-two-three-go!' She took off, her strokes cutting cleanly through the warm, flat water.

King swam after her and surprisingly made up the distance fairly easily. In fact, by the time they drew close to shore they were neck and neck. Michelle started laughing when he reached over and playfully grabbed her leg. They reached land in a tie. King lay on his back and sucked in air like there wasn't enough in the entire atmosphere to satisfy him.

'Well, I guess I did surprise myself,' he said between gasps. Then he looked over at Michelle. She wasn't even breathing hard, and the truth struck him.

'You shit, you weren't even trying.'

'Yes, I was. Well, I mean I had to allow for the age difference and all.'

'Okay, that does it.'

He jumped up and went after her as she raced screaming away. Yet she was laughing so hard King had no trouble running her down. He lifted her over his shoulder, carried the woman out into waist-deep water and ceremoniously dumped her. She came up sputtering and still laughing.

'What was that for?'

'To show you that while I may be over forty, I ain't dead.'

Back at the dock as he was raising the Sea-Doo up on its lift he asked, 'So how did you go from basketball and track to Olympic rowing?'

'I liked track better than basketball, but I missed the team element. In college a friend of mine was a rower, and I got into it through him. Seems like I had a natural talent for it. Out on the water my motor never seemed to quit; I was like a machine. And I loved the high you got from leaving everything you had out on those oars. I was the youngest member of my team. When I first tried out, no one gave me much of a chance. I guess I proved them wrong.'

'I think you've probably spent a good part of your life doing that. Particularly in the Secret Service.'

'It hasn't all been wine and roses.'

'I'm not that familiar with the sport. What was your rowing event called?'

'Fours with coxswain, meaning four women pulling for all they're worth and a coxswain calling out the strokes. The focus is absolutely complete.'

'What was it like to be in the Olympics?'

'The most exhilarating and most nerve-racking time of my life. I was so stressed I threw up before our first heat. But when we took the silver and came within a hair of the gold, there was no greater feeling in the world. I was still basically a kid and felt like I'd reached the pinnacle of my life.'

'Still feel that way?'

She smiled. 'No. I'm hoping the best is yet ahead for me.'

They showered and changed into dry clothes. When Michelle came down, King was going over some notes at the kitchen table.

'Interesting reading?' she asked as she combed out her wet hair.

He looked up. 'Our interview with Jorst. I'm wondering if he knows more than he's telling. And I'm also wondering what we might learn from Kate Ramsey.'

'If she'll talk to us.'

'Right.' He yawned. 'We'll think about it tomorrow. Long day.'

Michelle looked at her watch. 'It is late. I guess I better be going.'

'Look, why don't you just stay here tonight? You can stay in the guest room where you just showered,' he added quickly.

'I have my own place. You don't have to feel sorry for me. I'm a big girl.'

'I do feel sorry for you because all the junk that was in your truck is now in your room at the inn. Something might be alive in there. It might come and get you in the middle of the night.' He smiled and then said quietly, 'Stay here.'

She graced him with her own smile and a look in her eyes that seemed very suggestive. Although that might have just been the wine he'd had.

'Thanks, Sean. I'm actually pretty whipped. Good night.'

He watched her go slowly up the stairs. The long, muscular legs slid into the nice, firm butt, and then her body continued into the Olympic shoulders and up the long neck and, well… Hell! As she disappeared into the guest room, he let out a sigh and tried desperately not to think about what he was so desperately thinking about.

He went around to all the doors and windows and made sure they were locked. He was planning on having an alarm company come out and wire his house. He'd never thought he'd need that here. Half the time he didn't even lock his doors. Boy, that had changed.

He paused at the top of the stairs and looked toward the guest room door. Inside, a beautiful young woman was lying in bed. Unless he was seriously mistaken, if he opened that door and went in, he'd probably be allowed to stay the night. Then again, with the way his luck was running, if he opened the door, Michelle might just shoot him in the balls. He stood there for a few moments more, thinking.Did he really want to start something with this woman? With all that was going on? The answer, as much as he didn't want to accept it, was pretty clear. He trudged down the hall to his own room.

Outside near the bottom of the road leading up to King's house, the old Buick, lights out, stopped, and the engine was cut off. The rattling muffler had been fixed because the driver no longer desired to be noticed. The car door opened, and the man climbed out and looked through the trees at the silhouette of the darkened house. The rear doors on the Buick opened, and two more people emerged: it was 'Officer Simmons' and his homicidal female companion, Tasha. Simmons looked a little nervous while Tasha seemed ready for adventure. The Buick Man just appeared focused. He glanced at his companions and nodded. Then all three moved toward the house.

36

King awoke from a dead sleep as the hand went over his mouth. He saw the gun first and the face second.

Michelle put a finger to her lips and whispered in his ear. 'I heard some noises. I think someone's in the house.'

King pulled on his clothes and pointed out the door with a questioning look.

'I think at the rear of the house, lower level. Any idea who it could be?'

'Yeah, maybe somebody's bringing me another dead body.'

'Anything of value in the house?'

He started to shake his head and then stopped. 'Shit. The gun from Loretta's backyard. It's in my lockbox in the study.'

'You really think…?'

'Yeah, I really do.' He picked up the phone to call the police but put it back down.

'Don't tell me,' she said. 'It's dead?'

'Where's your cell phone?'

She shook her head. 'I think I left it in my truck.'

They slipped down the stairs listening for any more sounds that might pinpoint where the intruder was. It was dark and quiet. The person could have been anywhere, watching, waiting to pounce.

King looked at Michelle and whispered, 'Nervous?'

'It is a little creepy. What do you do when it gets dicey?'

'Go get a bigger gun than the other guy has.'