“YOU HAVEto be kidding me!” Atlas said into the phone at the station. Evie rested in her bed beside his desk, lifting her head, probably at his tone. “You’re monitoring the ship. They’re loading shipping containers with people in them.” He added more calmly, “I know that’s what they do because I have a group of their former passengers here in town.”
“There is only so much we can do. The ship is expected to stop in Western Europe to pick up more containers, and then they will cross the Atlantic. Once they reach US waters, we’ll stop the ship and have it searched,” the FBI agent said. Atlas was coming to hate this man more and more. Not only was he an ass, but he seemed to be less than useless. “The best thing we can do is catch them in the act. Maybe we can get additional information. For now, we do nothing.”
“All right.” Like he had a choice. “Did you get anywhere else with the rest of the names or the tattoo?”
“Not the ink. It isn’t like we have a database of tattoo artists. But it seems the names you gave us might refer to ships. And they have a similar pattern to theWitch. They make quick stops at Near East ports and then head out again. We’ve working with the Coast Guard to stop any of them that pass into US waters.” At least that was progress. “The current administration is very interested in stopping this kind of activity.”
Hurray for them. Like it mattered to him. What they needed were some answers, but those were slow in coming. At leastthings had been quiet at the house since Evie scared away their intruder. They’d had no further luck locating him. The guy seemed to have fallen off the face of the earth, and Atlas was beginning to wonder if he was out there at all any longer. Maybe the infection was too much for him. “Thank you for your help.”
“You let me know if you discover anything else.”
“And you do the same.” Atlas groaned as he ended the call. It may have been petty, but at least he got the last word.
“Time to head out?” Carter asked as he passed his desk.
“Almost,” he answered, checking the time. “I have a little more paperwork to do.” It had been a busy day, with a drug bust and being called to the highway to check a suspicious truck. But Evie found nothing, and the truck, after the driver was ticketed for speeding, was allowed on its way. Heaven help anyone who joined the police department for the excitement. It was moments of intense activity and even exciting action, followed by hours of paperwork.
He said good night to Carter before finishing up his report. By then it was time to go, so he and Evie headed to his car for the ride home.
As soon as he opened the door, an amazingly aromatic scent hit him, and his stomach growled. “What did you do?”
Bazel hurried into the room, grinning. “I made you a thank-you dinner.” He looked so bright and cheerful, just what Atlas needed after a day like this. “You have helped me so much and given me a place to live, and I want to thank you.” He led the way to the kitchen, where the sink was filled with dirty dishes. He would have cringed, but the table was also full… and it smelled amazing.
“Is this another of the dishes your mom made?” Atlas asked, inhaling deeply.
“Yes. I think I got it right. It taste good.” He hurried to the oven and brought out a cookie sheet with cheesy bread that smelled like heaven and set it on the table too. “You sit and eat.”
“I need to feed Evie.” It was always the first thing he did when they got home, and he put the food in her dish and filled her water before sitting down.
“You too,” Atlas told him. If he cooked, Bazel had a tendency to stand and see how he liked the food. He didn’t just sit down right away. It puzzled him until one of the guys said that might have been how his mother served her meals. So he made an effort to get Bazel to join him.
“I want to make sure it good.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot, and Atlas knew he was worried. He took a few bites and smiled as amazing flavors he had never experienced before burst on his tongue. It was spicy, warm, and yet bright with hints of richness.
“This is amazing. I don’t think I’ve had anything like it, and it’s so perfectly balanced.” Every bite tasted different, and he took another as Bazel sat down, took his plate, and dished him up some of the rice dish.
“Do you always take care of everyone else?” Bazel asked.
Atlas blinked. “It seems to me that you’re the one taking care of me tonight.” He smiled and ripped off some bread. He popped it into his mouth and hummed. “This is way better than the stuff from the store.” God, it was tangy, sweet, cheesy, and so good.
“Thank you. I am glad you like it.” He grinned.
“You’re speaking much better too.”
“I watch… I am watching television, and I’m trying to talk like they do. Cool, huh?”
Atlas laughed. “You’re doing great. But just be you. I like the way you speak. Your voice is smooth and gentle, and I hear people yelling at each other all the time. You just be you. Okay?I promise that as far as I’m concerned that’s all that’s required.” He returned to his dinner, wondering if he should bring up last night and the fact that Bazel had ended up in his bed. He barely remembered how Bazel got there, but he had been more than preoccupied about waking up next to him. The thing was, he wanted it to happen again, but knew it probably shouldn’t. Bazel was in his care, and to get involved with him would be seen as taking advantage. And he was not going to do that. Bazel needed to be the person making the decisions about his own life, and even if he didn’t mean to, Atlas could easily pressure him into some sort of relationship.
“You stopped eating,” Bazel said. “You no like now?”
“Sorry, I was just thinking.” He went back to his dinner, pushing away thoughts of Bazel in his bed and the idea of running his hands over him, pulling him tight…. He shook his head slightly, making sure he paid attention to the food and the company rather than his carnal thoughts. “I mean it. This is one of the best things I have ever had. Can you make it again sometime?”
Bazel lowered his gaze and nodded. “I use less dishes the next time.”
Atlas chuckled. “I was starting to wonder if something exploded.” There were so many dishes. Every pan seemed to be dirty.
“I started out too small and had to get one bigger. Next time I will start with the largest one.” He ate. “You not mad?”
“No.” How in the hell could he be? Bazel had gone to all the trouble of buying the food and making him a special dinner. It was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for him.
