Prologue

Wednesday, March 26, 1986

I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don’t let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories

“Hi there.” She dipped her head to try to make eye contact with her weary partner who was sprawled out on his couch. After knocking several times, she had let herself in. He hadn’t shown up at the Agency that morning—the bottle of whisky now clutched in his hand was a clear indication why. Mr. Melrose had finally given in and allowed her to go look for him, but not alone. He insisted she take Agent Brawer, who was now standing outside Lee’s apartment door. She only hoped Agent Brawer wouldn’t hear the coming conversation.

“Amanda, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at the safe house.” His voice was gravelly and irritated. The dark circles under his eyes indicated that he hadn’t gotten any sleep last night. Plus, he was still wearing his suit from the day before, sans his tie and jacket, and his once crisp white shirt was now wrinkled and un-tucked haphazardly.

Amanda inhaled and then coughed when the stale stench of the room flooded her nostrils. It smelled like the inside of one of the boy’s gym bags at the end of the week. She pulled back the drapes and opened the window. Fresh air would be a good start. “Well, I was on my way to the temporary safe house, but my partner didn’t come to say goodbye,” she threw over her shoulder as she opened the second window. “So, I thought I’d come see if he was all right.” She walked back over to the couch and tried to help him up but was waved away.

“Why wouldn’t I be all right? And I liked those closed.” He squinted toward the drapes, then rubbed his face to block out the sunlight. “I’m not the one whose life is about to completely change. They’ll give me a new codename and ship me off to some other agency. It’ll be ‘same old, same old’ for me.”

She swallowed down the lump that formed in her throat and bit her bottom lip. After all this time, he still thought of her as a nuisance—a problem he had to deal with. Last night was a mistake to him.

“Yeah, I guess it will. I thought that after nearly three years I meant more to you than ‘resident nuisance.’ I thought we were friends, Lee.” When he didn’t reply, she snatched the empty bottles and glasses, intent on taking them to the kitchen. Lee yanked them out of her hands and threw them back on the coffee table. Amanda jumped as the bottles crashed against one another.

“We were . . . are friends, Amanda.” He finally looked at her and, as if frightened by what he saw, hastily turned away. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this right now.”

And that quickly, his walls were back up. Amanda stiffened her resolve, determined to break through as she had so many times before. Although it seemed he’d built a much stronger defense this time.

“When will be a good time? After I’m gone? This is it!” When he made no attempt at speaking, she continued, “Oh, right.” She nodded. “When things get too emotional, the infamous Scarecrow has to run away. Heaven forbid he might show he cares about someone besides himself!”

“What’s the point? You’re leaving.” He took a swig out of the whiskey bottle and grimaced. “They all leave . . .”

The confident, self-assured man in front of her dissolved into a scared little boy. If she wasn’t so damn frustrated with him, she’d wrap her arms around him and tell him everything would be all right. “So that’s it? You push your way into my life, turn it upside down, and then walk away?” Her heart was thumping, and she was certain he could hear it.

“I don’t have a choice, Amanda! I tried to keep you out of this godforsaken business! But, oh no, you wouldn’t listen. You never listen!” He jabbed his finger toward her, ran his hand roughly through his hair, then continued pacing behind the sofa. “And now look at your future. I’ve made sure you and your family will never have a normal life again.” He staggered over and dropped into the chair, his head cradled in his hands.

“Hold it right there, buster!” Amanda perched on the coffee table and placed her hand on his knee to get his attention. “You didn’t do anything. I chose this life. If anyone is to blame, it’s me. I don’t have any regrets. I did what I had to do, and I’d do it all over again.” She smiled faintly. “Well, maybe one regret . . .” Her fingertips lightly caressed his arm. They had been getting closer over the past few months and no matter how drunk he had been last night, their kiss had meant something. Or, at least, she thought it had. No, she was certain she saw it in his eyes. It didn’t matter how he tried to play it off now—he was in pain like she was.

Lee snatched his arm away and sprung up from the chair, nearly knocking her over. “You need to go—”

“You aren’t even going to try to be the man you could be?” she asked indignantly. This was her last chance. Their last chance. If she walked out that door, she’d never see him again and he’d never know how she really felt. “You may be afraid to tell me how you feel but I want . . . no, I need you to know how I feel. Lee, you are special to me. Her voice cracked. “I can’t leave—”

“No! Just go, Amanda.” The coldness in his voice startled her. “I told you once before: I’m poison. Go live your life. We’ll both be better off.” Grasping her elbow, he guided her to the door and opened it. "Brawer, Mrs. King needs to be at home packing rather than wasting her time here. See that she gets there." He nodded to Agent Brawer, before turning his grim face back to her. “Be happy,” he quietly added, almost as an afterthought.

Amanda trailed her hand lightly across his chest but removed it when she found it was ‘Scarecrow’ staring back at her. His eyes were looking through her—beyond this part of his life. Moving on until the next hurdle popped up that he couldn’t escape with his typical avoidance patterns. It was amazing how quickly the Lee of old had returned. Those eyes belonged to the cold, distant loner who had tried to dump her at the Jefferson Memorial three years before. There would be no breaking through those walls today—it took nearly all her strength the first time. If she stayed she’d only be hurt more.

“Goodbye, Scarecrow. Be sure to tell Lee I’ll miss him.” Holding back the tears that threatened to fall, she bit the inside of her cheek. He would not see her cry.

His eyes furrowed at her comment. A long moment passed before the realization of her statement hit him. He immediately looked down. Lee’s head jerked up when his phone rang.

Amanda stood on the other side of his door stunned and shaking in disbelief. This was it. They’d never see each other again. One lone tear cascaded down her cheek as she watched the door close.

“Goodbye, Lee,” she whispered.

dddddddddddddddddd

TBC . . .