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H elen waited patiently at the kitchen table for the Mr. Yield’s arrival. There were questions she had for the master tracker before he departed for home. She hoped he would be willing to share the information, and to be sure he was in a sharing mood, she had a little something prepared for him. He arrived just at the moment she expected him to, right at the seven a.m. on the dot mark.

“Morning. I prepared you a go bag,” she told him.

“Morning back, and what is in this said go bag you’ve prepared for me?” Yield asked, waiting to find out what the woman wanted.

“I have pancake sticks for breakfast, coffee, hot, black, a tad bit of sugar, but more on the bitter side to keep you awake. There are two sandwiches, one for lunch, the other for a second lunch, along with juice boxes, a pear, an apple, you know for commemorative purposes, and of course, your granola bars,” she said with a smile.

“No cranberries in this go box?”

“I have a bottle of cranberry juice, you know, for nostalgia,” she said, sticking out her tongue at him.

“You’re fucking scary, but thanks. What do you want?”

“Okay, right at it,” she said, lifting her mug of coffee, allowing the air to settle between them. “How do I track a person, just out right? How would I know where to start?”

Yield opened the lunch bag, seeing all the goodies she’d packed for him. He wanted to take a photo of it to show his wife Millicent how it should be done because the bag was beautiful. The Cranberry had done this before.

“Hmm, if you have their phone number, you can start there,” he said.

“Okay, but what app?”

“Do you have your Technician’s laptop?” he asked, picking up one of the pancake sticks. “What is this?”

“It is a pancake, cooked over a strip of bacon, and laced with maple syrup,” she said. “I’m trying to figure out how to make them into burritos so I can include the scrambled eggs, but not yet. And yes, I have my laptop.”

“Weird, but okay,” he said, biting into the strip of pancake, nodding his approval at the taste. “When you open your computer, look for an app called Bad Habits. Enter the phone number and you can track the person.”

“At one location, or will it provide me the person’s nasty habits, since that is what the app is named?”

“Yes, if you want to track their movement for the day, or if you want to track their movements over the course of a week, it will give you patterns, as long as the phone is on,” he said, watching her face. “Use it wisely, Cranberry.”

“Me, take advantage of software that allows me to track the movement of people and know what time they leave home, the route they take to go to work, and where they are sitting having coffee? Never!” she said waving her hand as she sipped the coffee with her eyes wide. It made Yield chuckle a little.

“Tell him I said hi when you find him,” he said. “It has been truly a strange experience meeting you.”

“I found confidence in my instincts in spending time in your light,” she told Yield. “May we depart as friends and meet again as family?”

“Family, eh? And you would be the weird cousin with the cats who all have names from Shakespearian characters,” Yield said, stopping himself.

“No, that would be I think, Rest Stop?” she said, grinning at him.

“Damn, I like you ― you scary little woman,” he said, taking note of the reference to Bleu Neary’s love of Shakespeare. She did know the family. “You know I’m going to make the call to find out about you.”

“You can, but it is doubtful he will tell you much,” she said. “Be safe and get home in one piece.”

Apple entered the kitchen at the same time Yield picked up the carafe of coffee. He pointed at it, looking at Helen. Apple frowned at her, wanting to know why she was giving away his coffee carrier.

“You can get another one; he has a long drive to get home. Plus, he did you several favors in coming, locating the warehouses, and shutting them down. He can have the carafe,” she said. “I will go and get you another.”

“Whatever,” he grumbled, looking at Yield. “Thanks.”

Yield replied, “Fuck you and we’re even.” He pointed at Ricky, who also entered the kitchen, Yield’s good eye on Helen.

She arched her eyebrows, looked at Apple, and smiled. Yield crinkled his forehead, looked at Ricky, then at Apple, and arched his eyebrows. Helen nodded, Yield cocked his head. Helen smiled. Yield shrugged, and Ricky clapped his hands.

“I don’t appreciate you two talking in Technician code about me in front of my face while I’m standing here, not understanding what you’re saying about me,” Ricky claimed. “Apple, what did she say?”

“You don’t want to know,” he said, offering Yield a handshake of thank you.

Helen watched him walk to the door, and he looked back at her with his good eye, gave a mock salute and took off. She couldn’t tell if he was a good man or a man who did good things for the right reason when the wrong reasons would get him caught. She knew he had a family, and the way he looked at the go bag, his wife hadn’t mastered the art of preparing his food stores for long riding assignments.

“Hmmp,” she said, looking at Apple. “What’s next, oh great trainer?”

“Two weeks off,” he told her.

“Who has two weeks off?”

“You do. I am done with you Cranberry,” Apple said.

“Have I failed? Did I do something wrong? I will get you another coffee carafe,” she said, feeling out of sorts.

“No, you haven’t failed. My job was to assess you to see where your strengths lie and suggest the course of action for you as a Technician,” he said. “You are great with kids and doing intake for children, making them feel comfortable in a new environment. You can set up a safe house and know how to budget for long term planning. The job of setting up the window defenses with interlocking fields of fire worked well. You were able to achieve a critical understanding of tracking, shut down three warehouses, and still managed to make a go bag for a traveling Technician. We are done here. Enjoy the time off and report to Lemon in two weeks.”

“Well, that is rather abrupt,” she said. “Just like that, I am free to go for two weeks?”

“Use the down time well. Lemon is all about chemistry and poisons, so you need to be fresh and rested,” he explained.

“Okay, let me go pack and say goodbye to the kids,” she said, rising slowly.

Apple and Ricky watched her leave. Ricky spoke first when she was out of earshot. “What did she say to Mr. One Eyed Willie about me?”

“She said you and I were together,” Apple said.

“How does she know about us? I mean, I was ogling her too,” he said, feeling some kind of way for being outed by Helen when he was certain Apple and he was hiding it well.

“Yeah, but you spend more time ogling me,” Apple said.

“You are rather fine,” Ricky said.

“Whatever, Army Ranger, don’t you have something to hammer or nail? Never mind, ignore that,” Apple said, laughing. “I’m going to miss her.”

“Me too,” Ricky said. “How do you think the kids are going to handle her leaving?”

“They aren’t going to like it, especially Oscar,” Apple said, thinking about the last twelve hours.

The boy Kendrick was no longer in the home. His injuries were more than Apple could care for. She pulled Apple to the side to inquire about his well-being. Initially, he didn’t think the kid was going to make it at all, which is why he had sent Helen away. The last thing he wanted was for her to experience such a thing on her first training assignment.

“Helen, he needed more care than I could provide,” Apple said, staring her down, which meant she didn’t need to ask anything else, therefore she wouldn’t.

She called the boys downstairs to a full on, Southern breakfast to include the recipe Ms. Ruth Neary used to make her two step biscuits. She’d learned a number of recipes from the woman, which would come in handy later. Along with the handmade biscuits, were Ruth’s sweet potatoes hash with onions, crispy bacon and an egg bake with extra mushrooms.

“Wow, this is amazing,” Stephen said, “maybe you should be cooking instead of me.”

“The reason you were doing the cooking is that I have to head out,” she said, making them all look up at her. Oscar’s bottom lip began to tremble. “I got you set up to be comfortable here in your home. Take good care of each other.”

Jeffrey wanted to know if they would see her again. Stephen wanted to know if she would keep in touch. Oscar asked if he could come live with her which didn’t surprise or shock Apple in the least.

Her goodbyes to the boys were short. However, she handled it like a pro. In her notebook, she’d jotted down each of their birthdays. “I will send you postcards from wherever I am over the next year to keep in touch. When I get home, I will send you guys stamps to mail me back with photos so we can keep in touch. Make sure you address them to Aunt Helen.”

“Aunt Helen,” Jeffrey interjected, “will you come home for Thanksgiving?”

“If the Lord is willing and the Creek don’t rise,” she said, hugging each child and giving Oscar an affectionate kiss.

She provided a handshake to Apple and one to Ricky as she walked out the door. Helen didn’t look back because she was too excited looking forward. Inside the vehicle, she received a text from Azrael with the coordinates for Lemon’s location in Ohio. She would need to drive past an airport to get there two weeks from now, which meant, technically she could fly out of the airport, leave her car and come back into two weeks to claim it.

Logic would dictate she head home to connect with Cherry, but she was free to live as she wished. She drove for ten minutes into town and pulled over. An idea hit here that made her smile. She found herself almost giddy as she made plans for at least a couple of days if not the entire two weeks. A click here, a click there, and she was ready.

“This is going to be good,” she laughed, putting the car into gear. “This is going to be soo good.”

SALEM, OREGON

Trooper Neary sat on a lonely stretch of road, keeping an eye out for speeders trying to take a shortcut into Portland. His mind drifted as he thought of Helen marching off like a toddler on her first day at killer daycare. Several times he took out his phone to text her, but he wanted to wait. This evening he’d call, maybe check in with her to make sure she was okay. Thoughts of her over the past day had become so strong, he was tempted to take a few days off to make sure she had fared well with her decision or at least was safe. He’d just sat the phone down, picking it up again when a car sped by, setting off his radar.

“Good grief!” he said as the squad car rocked from the force of the wind of the speeder zooming past. He hit the lights on the cruiser and took off after the motorist who didn’t drive far but slowed down and pulled over. These sorts of stops made him nervous.

He stopped, grabbing his pad, preparing to write the ticket. On his radio, he called in the license plate, stating where he was on the road in case something went afoul. The car came back as a rental.

Exiting the cruiser slowly, he noticed the car windows had not been rolled down by the speeder. He tapped on the back rear light, making the driver look up, but he couldn’t see the face. Approaching the window, he gently tapped, asking the driver to roll the window down. He looked inside at the driver and stood frozen. He stared, not believing his eyes.

“Helen?”

“Hey there, Stallion,” she said. “I learned how to track people, and I used it to track you. Surprise!”

“Yes, I am,” Mustang said, removing his Smoky the Bear shades. “You tracked me? Why...I mean, is everything okay? Did something go wrong with Apple, with your training, wait, you’re in Oregon.”

“Calm down, Trooper. I did good and learned how to do some tracking with Mr. Yield, who says hi by the way, and I got two weeks off for shutting down three warehouses in Milwaukee that did yucky things to kids,” she told him. “I thought, maybe, of those fourteen days, you could benefit from my company and a few of them, I mean if you want them.”

“I want them, of course,” he said, smiling at her. “I can’t believe you’re here. You tracked me.”

She pointed at his phone. “I’m a technician trainee, but my instincts are sharp but not sharp enough. You’re getting off your shift in a little while. Want me to pick up some dinner from that little place you like by your house so you can come home and get off a lot with me?”

“Huh?”

“The Asian Fusion place by your house; you’ve been there twice in the last week. I mean, unless your girlfriend works there and I’m stepping on toes here,” she said.

“I don’t have a girlfriend. I am seeing this woman, though, not sure what we’re calling it, but for now, I guess it’s working for us both,” he said, finding himself blushing. “Hold on, you learned basic tracking and used it on me. Are you using your newfound skillsets for personal gain, Cranberry?”

“Yes, plus I thought you were missing this vagina. If you don’t want it, I can turn this vehicle around, take it back to Kentucky, and put it away,” she said, looking at him.

“Oh no you don’t,” he said. “I’m heading into the shop to clock out. I need about 45 minutes before I get home.”

“So, what do you want me to do, pick up something for dinner and wait on the front porch, or are you passing me the keys so I can be ready to welcome you through the door when you get there?” she asked, biting her bottom lip.

“My keys are in my locker at the station,” Mustang said, “There is a keypad on the garage. The code is 0624, which is my birthday. Once inside the garage, enter through the door and the alarm for the house is 0612, which is Pops’ birthday. You can pick up dinner, and I’ll meet you there. Again, I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I have two weeks before I have to be in Ohio. Take as much of that time as you want, but it won’t bother me if you have other plans,” she said.

“No, this is perfect,” he said, offering a wry smile. “Absolutely perfect. See you at the house in about an hour.”

Helen sat watching him walk to his squad car. She was surprised at her body’s reaction seeing him in his Trooper gear, the gun on his hip walking all bad ass up to her vehicle. Seeing the back side of him as he headed to his vehicle brought back nasty memories of Mustang being nude and sweaty, making Helen clench her thighs together in the front seat of the rental.

“That man is finer than kitten fur,” she said, grinning as she pulled away from the shoulder of the highway. The restaurant, already added to the GPS, was where she headed after pressing the button, and she was on her way to get dinner.

He didn’t say what to order but based on what she’d seen him eat the few times they shared a meal, she placed the food request. Fifteen minutes later, she had food for two days, just in case they needed more nourishment after round one. Happy with the food, she punched the button saved on the GPS to his home.

Nervousness filled her when she arrived at the mountain chalet style house. As instructed, she punched in the code on the keypad and the garage door went up. Inside the garage was a black Mustang Cobra, a motorcycle, a canoe, and entirely too much fishing gear. The food in hand, she opened the door to the home to hear the alarm, and she punched in the code for the house like he’d told her, disarming the system.

She wanted to be nosey and ramble through the place. Her first instinct was to go to his bathroom and check under the sink for feminine supplies to see if a chick was attempting to nest, but she stopped herself. Instead, she went to the kitchen to set the table for supper. In a drawer, Helen located a candle with a holder. In the cupboards, she found wine glasses and water goblets. Mustang liked his water with ice, and she preferred hers without, so she prepared them and set both on the table. Another drawer held placemats, and then she found forks and knives. When she was done, the table was set, and then she heard a vehicle pull into the garage.

“Daddy’s home,” she said, checking her breath. She kicked herself for not freshening up first in case Daddy wanted some dessert before dinner, but it was too late now.

“Helen?” he called out as he came through the door from the garage.

“In the kitchen,” she called back as she plated rice, followed by meat and veggies. “I hope this is okay. I know you have wine but wasn’t sure what you wanted to go with the food, so I didn’t open anything. You like?”

“I like,” he said, frozen in place, reeling from the realization of Helen being in his actual home. He wanted to embrace her. He wanted to kiss her. He needed to feel her body next to his. Sighing, he said, “I can’t reach for you and won’t make the first move, but I’m here, you’re here, and if you don’t kiss me right now, I’m going to lose my shit.”

“Hmm,” she said, standing behind the chair. “What happens when you lose your shit, Mustang?”

“I’m going to eat your sexy ass alive, Helen. I’m trying to be respectful based on what you’ve shared with me and not push my will or needs off on you, but I need you. Don’t make me lose my shit, Helen.”

She raised her blouse and pulled it over her head. She came out of the pants next and stood in front of him in just her underwear. To drive home the idea of him losing his mind, she unsnapped her bra and tossed it at him. Helen took her time bending slowly to take off her underwear. She tossed those at him as well.

“I’m not even going to take off my gun,” he said, moving at a clip and reaching for her.

Helen let out a small squeak as the pythons gathered her against his chest. His lips touched her, igniting the fire between them. She wrapped her legs high above his waist, bumping against the gun. In his ear, she cautioned him to remove the hardware. Holding her with one hand, he unfastened the belt with the other and dropped it to the floor.

“Baby, we’re not gonna make it to the bed,” he said, turning toward the dining room table.

“No, nope, no naked asses on the table,” she mumbled through the fevered kisses. “I’m feeling very happy to see you. We’re going to need the bed.”

“Say no more,” Mustang said, carrying her to the bedroom. He had questions, concerns, and more, but right now, he simply desired to be with Helen and show her some appreciation for traveling to the West Coast to spend her time off with him. It would be a lovely two weeks, but the idea of coming home to her every day made him begin to rethink how he was living his life.