104Manda Rider wiped away a drop of sweat trickling down the side of her face with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. Her feet slowed down into smaller pace, as she took a long breath of fresh air that was cooling off her warm skin. The sun beamed from behind her, casting rhapsodic ambience on the green countryside. The redbrick path that she took crooked around the edge of the Apple Point Park, bordering between it and Herbst River. Across the river, dark green pines towered proudly before the plateau at the foot of Hunter Mountain. There had been cases of grizzly bears prowling in those woods, and sometimes they ended up gobbling leftover food from trashcans at the back of someone's house. Manda had a share of that experience once. Immediately after the incident, her father had installed an alarm system to detect intruders, or in this case - bears from coming too close to the house.
She took a turn across the park. Far across from her vision, a huge dark mansion loomed on top of a hill. The van Noord's mansion had been built here since the late seventeenth century. Van Noord's was the first Dutch family to settle down in Apple Point. They were still a few of them left nowadays. She caught a whiff of perfumed fragrance as she passed a row of purple lilacs, and white jasmines. Her mood brightened up at the sight of vivid colors. Morning joggers like her trotted past, not failing to give her a wave and a smile. She waved back, recognizing the faces from her neighborhood. Apple Point wasn't a large town. It was a place where everyone knew everyone. Though the area could be considered rural, only the center of town was turned into commercial business point.
It didn't take long for her to return to her house, which was just a block from the park. She hummed her favorite song as she bounded the steps at the front porch. A waft of chocolaty aroma filled her nostrils that made her stomach grumbled. Chocolate syrup. Nothing could make her day than having chocolate for breakfast.
As she headed to the kitchen, she could hear the clanging sound of pots and pans. She leaned against the doorway, stifling laughter as she watched her father, Blake Rider, preparing the breakfast. He was making pancakes on in the pan one hand, while the other he was holding a wooden spatula, battering the concoction inside a large bowl. There was a speck of flour on his dark hair, and the side of his face. The sound of rushing water from the tap droned on and on, pouring on the dirty dishes in the sink.
"That looks...um, nice. A little black on the side though." She walked over to the counter, examining a pile of chocolate pancakes on a plate.
"Why don't you give me a hand?" Mr. Rider asked his daughter with a withering look toward the burning pancake on the pan.
"Sorry, Dad, but my kitchen skills are better left to washing dishes." She headed to the sink and went to work, grimacing at the sight of grease and other incomprehensible dirt that she'd rather not know about. "Sheesh, Dad. How long have you not washed these? It wasn't like this last week before I went back to campus."
"I was going to clean them up before you... uhm, arrived here last night." He sighed exasperatedly. "I should have asked Connor to move here instead of Manhattan," he went on grumbling, referring to his younger brother.
"I doubt he likes living in Apple Point. He thinks it's too quiet. But it's a great idea, though. I still miss that apple pie he made last Easter." Her mouth watered just thinking about the crusty pastry with spicy apple filling, but that did not matter right now. She couldn't be any happier when her father had come back home, and he'd promised her he would take her out on a fishing trip next week - a day after her birthday. It would be the best present ever. She couldn't think of anything better that could top that. It had been too long since they had done this together since... since her mother's death. Her stomach contracted into tight ball from the sudden pang of sadness; her hand instinctively fingered her mother's locket that hung from her neck. When her mother was alive, the fishing trip had been their family ritual. It was a time when her parents took a break from their work to spend a quality time together.
BRRIIING! The sound of doorbell startled her out of her reverie.
"I'll get that," Manda said, turning off the water tap, dried her hands with a kitchen towel, and dashed to the living room. A pretty woman in dark suit stood at the door. She looked to be in her mid-thirties with shoulder-length brown hair, and a pair of green eyes. The woman smiled, showing off her white teeth that contrasted against her tan skin. For some reason, the woman reminded Manda of a sly fox. Manda shook her head, tossing the ridiculous thought away from her mind.
"Is this Blake Rider's home?" she asked in a vaguely familiar voice.
"Uh, yeah. Have we met before?" Manda couldn't help asking.
"I believe we've spoken a few times on the phone."
Manda slapped her forehead. "Oh, right. You're Special Agent Young, right?"
"That's right," she said, lifting her eyebrows in surprise.
"My father told me about you before," Manda explained.
"About what?" she asked cautiously.
"Just about the Rodriguez's case - and that you work in DC. Both of you are going to testify at the preliminary hearing next week."
"Seems like he talks to you often about his cases. Is your father in?"
"Yeah, he's here. This must be important that you have to come here," Manda said. She knew her father had begun working with her at the FBI since three weeks ago.
"You could say that," the woman said evasively, as she inspected her long red nails. On her left hand, Manda noticed a gold thin band embedded with tiny red rubies on her ring finger. When the woman noticed Manda watching her, she instantly dropped her eyes to the woman's feet, clad in a pair of snakeskin pumps.
At the moment, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway as Mr. Rider made his way to the living room. "Oh, I see you've met Cherry," he said to Manda as soon as he stepped into the room.
"Cherry?" Manda glanced at her father and the agent curiously. She'd never heard her father addressed his colleagues by their first names, especially when he hardly knew them!
"Cherry Young," Mr. Rider told her, smiling at the woman. Agent Young - Cherry - returned his smile. What kind of name was Cherry anyway?
"Oh," Manda said dully. She fidgeted on her spot, shifting from one foot to another as an uncomfortable silence filled the air, but she was saved when her stomach started grumbling loudly. "I guess that's my cue for breakfast." She left the two alone, but as she returned to the kitchen, she couldn't help wondering if there was something her father didn't tell her about Cher - Agent Young.
She ate the half-burned pancakes, chewing without tasting them. She almost finished half the pile when her father entered the kitchen. Pretending to ignore him, she gathered her plate and headed to the sink; but she couldn't ignore the preoccupied look on his face - and she knew what that meant.
"You're going away on a case, right?" she blurted.
He hesitated before he answered, "Yes. The FBI has found another of Rodriguez's weapons storage facility in DC. We think he already made some deals with foreign governments to smuggle weapons into their countries. It's the best evidence so far we've got on him."
"But you have to go to the preliminary hearing next week."
"I know. I hope by that time I'll be ready for the trial."
"So, that means you won't make it for the fishing trip?" she asked quietly.
He let out a deep breath. "Oh, Manda. I'm so sorry. I...I've forgotten about that."
"It's okay. The case comes first. I understand that." That was the third time he missed her birthday. She bit her lips together to keep them from trembling. She turned around and continued washing the dishes, and tried to hide her blurry vision as the tears welled up. She should have known better than to keep her hopes too high. Another part of her chided herself for making a big deal out of it. It was only a fishing trip, for Pete's sake! But she was afraid she was losing sight of her father. He kept making these trips, staying away for months; then came back home for a few days, before going away again. This was one of the reasons why she was reluctant to be an FBI agent, even though her father wanted her to be like him.
"I better start packing," he said, before he walked up next to her and gave a peck on her cheek.
"Why didn't you tell me about Cherry?" she asked suddenly.
Her father paused. "Tell you about what?"
"Are you seeing her?" So much for subtleties.
"We work together almost everyday - I can't avoid of not seeing her." It wasn't the answer she expected.
Manda was silent.
"Look, I don't know what your problem is, but she's just a colleague," he pointed out.
"You don't call colleagues by their first names."
"She happens to be a good friend. Like when you're working with Michael, for instance."
"That's different," she protested, growing uneasy by the turn of conversation.
"How? You don't see me forcing you to admit that you like him, do you? Or that you're seeing him?"
"He's just a friend," she said through clenched teeth, but try as she might, she couldn't stop the warm feeling on her cheeks.
"That's what I'm trying to tell you. Anyway, I've got to be going. I'll be back before you know it."
"You might as well don't come back at all," she retorted before she could stop herself. She took a risk to look at her father from her peripheral vision - and wished she hadn't done it. There was a flicker of pain etched on her father's face before he walked out of the kitchen in silence. By this time, tears already spilled down her face.
Michael Mackenzie sprawled on the rubber mat, rubbing his back with a grimace. He couldn't believe he was caught off guard, again! He felt blood rushing up his face when he noticed a few gym-goers grinning at him in amusement.
"Come on, you big oaf! You're not concentrating," Manda complained, looking down at Michael with hands on her hips. "That's the fifth time I've kicked your... umm, you know where."
"Very funny. You should have told me that in the first place when you called me last night. This is not what I had in mind how I want to spend my Sunday afternoon." He scrambled to his feet, refusing her helping hand in the process. "If I'd known that you were planning to practice your new karate moves, I would have prepared myself for that beforehand."
She wiped off her damp forehead with the sleeve of her sweatshirt, pushing a few strands of midnight black hair from her face back into her ponytail. Then she looked at him in concern. "I was a little aggressive, was I?"
"Make that too aggressive. I feel like a broken punching bag. What's up with that anyway?"
She turned away from him and bent down to tie her shoelace. "Oh, I don't know... I just feel like blowing off steam."
"On me?"
Finally, she looked up at him. Her fascinating blue-gray eyes looked troubled. "Sorry about that. You should put some ice on that jaw. It doesn't look that visible anyway," she said, patting his sore cheek.
"Yeah, I'm going to look real good by tonight." He grimaced, massaging his jaw to make sure it was still intact.
"What are you doing tonight?"
"My parents are having some guests for dinner." He decided to leave it at that, though the reminder of it sent his stomach shriveling. He began having second thoughts about going to the dinner. He would do anything to get out of his predicament. Heck, he would even try to persuade Manda to go out searching for a mystery to solve tonight, just for the sake of it - which was more tempting every minute; but her downcast expression stopped him from saying his suggestion out loud.
"You don't look too thrilled," she suddenly said before he had a chance to ask her what was wrong.
"Hmm? Oh. No, I don't. Anyway, I've enough of our little sparring session. I'm going to shower and change. Are you with me?" He gave her an expectant look.
She made a face. "I'm not going to shower and change with you."
"It's interesting to know where your mind wanders," he remarked with a devilish grin. "If I'm following your line of thought, I don't mind. I doubt you're bad looking underneath." He winced inwardly, appalled by what he'd just said. Uh-oh, I've done it, again. I'm going to have another bruise on my face now.
Instead, her face turned crimson, and she shoved him out of her way. "See you in the library tomorrow," she said before marching toward the exit.
Michael watched her for a moment, bemused. Then he walked out of the half-empty campus gym. His car was in the parking lot, and Manda was already in her silver Camaro when he reached his. She gave him a brief wave before zooming out to the street. He shook his head, amazed at how she managed to stay alive despite her bad driving habit.
He paused before getting into his car, noticing a piece of paper on his windshield. Wondering if Manda had left it there, he quickly plucked it from its constraint. His smile disappeared when he saw the crude black writing.
YOU LIKE HER DON'T YOU? ENJOY IT WHILE IT LASTS BEFORE I TAKE HER AWAY FROM YOU.