Someday I'll Find You.

by Kate Sweeney.

Acknowledgments.

To the usual suspects, you know who you are.

To Tara Young, my editor, who always hears the voices of my characters.

To Sheri Payton. Our morning chats over coffee are a G.o.dsend-thanks.

And finally, to my very good friend Sue. I know she'll remember as we drove to Chicago to see Ellen DeGeneres quite a few years ago; she told me all her exploits while in the army and gave me the inspiration for this story. Thanks, Sue.

Chapter 1.

The inside of her mouth felt like the Sahara. Cautiously, she opened one eye and painfully blinked as she looked around the room. Well, it's my bedroom, that's comforting, she thought. She saw several items of apparel strewn all over and winced.

Frantically, she tried to remember the previous night. She had stopped at the bar, not knowing why. Rae, Rae, why do you do this? she asked herself, trying to ease out from under the snoring, naked woman sprawled all over her.

Rae gave up and looked at the ceiling. A name, she thought...Angie that was it; she quietly thanked the G.o.ds above. The young woman-and how young, Rae could not gauge now-let out a small snort and stirred.

"Hmm. Good morning," the Angie-woman whispered and cuddled closer.

Rae looked down at her and gave a self-conscious wince. "h.e.l.lo. How did you sleep?" she asked casually.

The young woman smiled and looked up. "Did we sleep?" She kissed Rae's shoulder. She then moved over her and looked down into Rae's eyes. "I'm glad you stopped in last night. I was prepared for a boring evening." She sighed as she kissed Rae deeply, her tongue playfully dancing with Rae's.

"You were fantastic," she murmured against Rae's lips. "I've never been with an older woman before."

She lowered herself and began kissing Rae's neck and shoulders. "You never told me where you got this scar."

"An old football injury." Letting out a small groan, Rae tried to collect her wits. "Look, Angie."

"Amy."

s.h.i.t.

"Sorry, Amy." A very deep, sensual kiss cut off her next words.

"I don't care what you call me," Amy murmured as she lightly nibbled her earlobe.

Rae became instantly aroused, and at the same time, she knew she should stop this, truly she did.

And she would, truly she would.

"You will call me, won't you?" Amy asked sometime later as she sat on the side of the bed and dressed.

Rae lay on her side watching her. Amy was a good kid, she thought, but a kid nonetheless. Well, everyone seemed like a kid to Rae. She was admiring Amy's back, though marred by a hideous tattoo of a snake that ran from just above her backside, across her back, to the base of her neck.

"What possessed you to get a tattoo of a snake, a very large snake?" Rae asked, completely intrigued.

Amy laughed as she pulled her sweater over her head. She wore no bra; she didn't need one. In perfect shape, Rae thought sourly. Truthfully, for her age, so was Rae. However, she pulled the sheet up over her middle-aged b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"I wanted it," she said simply and shrugged. She then stood and pulled her tight jeans up. Rae noticed once again her young body and smiled.

Amy leaned over and kissed her. "I gotta go. I have to change a few plans. There's something I was supposed to do, but now..." she said pensively and looked into Rae's eyes. "I just can't do it. Besides, I've got a cla.s.s at noon."

As she pulled away, Rae sported an incredulous look. "Please tell me you're a teacher."

Amy laughed openly. "Nope, sorry. English Lit major at Northwestern. I'm a graduate student working on my doctorate if that helps. Now are you gonna call me?"

Rae didn't answer at first. "Amy..."

"Don't tell me you're too old for me. Just call, okay?"

Rae relented against her better judgment. "Okay. I'll call you later in the week."

Amy smiled as she searched Rae's face. In a moment, Rae started to feel uncomfortable; she nearly retreated under the intense scrutiny until Amy spoke.

"You've got beautiful blue eyes, Rae. I've got a full week, so call me and we'll do something on the weekend. Call me," she threatened gently and ruffled Rae's blond hair. She then bounded off the bed and out of the room.

Rae lay there staring at the door. When she heard the front door slam, she lay back staring at the ceiling and sighed. "The young bounce back so quickly after a hard night." She put her hands behind her head, her mind wandering back to the night before.

She had worked later than usual. Some client wasn't happy with the security system Rae installed, so she had to make the trip back into downtown Chicago. By the time she was done, she figured she'd stop at a gay bar she frequented. That was where she saw Amy. She was sitting with another somewhat older woman.

Rae smiled as she remembered how innocent Amy looked and how young. After a few c.o.c.ktails, Rae found herself on the verge of going over to her, but instead, she tossed a few dollars on the bar and started to leave. With that, Amy was at her side.

"You can't leave yet. I just got the courage to come over here." Amy smiled up at Rae. "At least let me buy you a drink."

Rae looked down into those soft brown eyes and smiled. "Sure, why not?" She knew then and there how the evening would end up.

With the introductions made and the obligatory small talk, they found themselves going to dinner at an Italian restaurant near Rae's home.

"So what brings you to Chicago all the way from Michigan? Our magnificent lake?" Rae poured another gla.s.s of wine.

"G.o.d, no. I'm terrified of the water." Amy reached across and took her hand. "Do you live nearby? How about an after-dinner drink?" She smiled seductively as she stroked the back of Rae's hand.

And that was that.

Now Rae groaned as she pulled her tired body out of bed. "I'm getting too old for this."

She sighed as she stepped into the shower. She looked at the scar on her shoulder and her forearm and remembered how Amy wanted to know where she got it. Rae let out an ugly laugh as the hot water beat on her face and head.

Twelve years in the navy, nine of which were with Naval Intelligence, that was where. She was a young, naive college graduate and had roamed around for a couple of years when she decided to join the navy. At twenty-five with a degree in criminology under her belt, the navy saw their chance. After officer candidate school, she had a rank of ensign, and three years later, she rose to lieutenant commander. She felt a purpose in life and felt her career heading in the right direction. With her knack for intelligence, the navy promoted her to commander.

She loved it, and she was good at it-too good, unfortunately. Young Commander Rae Jefferson saw the world and didn't like what she had seen. Her last a.s.signment was enough.

Having the life scared out of you will do that, she thought as she angrily took the soap to her body. She roughly washed herself as if to wash away the memory of that fateful a.s.signment in Syria four years earlier. However, she couldn't stop the vivid memory of that poor young Navy SEAL lying in a pool of blood.

Friendly fire...Friendly f.u.c.king fire.

Is that an oxymoron?

Chapter 2.

By the end of the week, Rae did call Amy. There was no answer, so she left a message, though not sure if she was relieved or not. Rae thought about her off and on all week. Several times, she had her hand on the phone, ready to call her. Why didn't she?

"Too d.a.m.n young, that's why." Rae was in her forties. Amy had to be no more than half her age. "G.o.d, I could be her mother."

As she dressed, she looked at herself in the mirror. Unremarkable, she thought with a shrug. Actually, many had told Rae Jefferson she was attractive. She was on the tall side, about 5'9", with short blond hair. However, everyone noticed her eyes first. They were cool blue and sparkling, and her smile only accentuated them more. She was still in good shape, though middle age and gravity were taking their toll day by day.

"Whatever," she said with a sigh of resignation and put the brush through her hair. She picked up her keys and bounded out the door, once again late for an appointment.

As she drove through the rush hour Chicago traffic on Lake Sh.o.r.e Drive, she thought again about Amy-Amy who? She didn't even know her last name. Why did she allow herself to do this? It had been a while since she'd done anything like this. h.e.l.l, she thought, it'd been a while since she allowed herself to do anything, with anybody.

Since Carla, Rae hadn't allowed anyone near her. Oh, she had her share of s.e.xually charged interludes, but none of them stayed long enough to get close.

She met Carla right after she left the navy. It started too fast, but Rae needed a complete change. She needed to feel human again, and Carla was there, able and very willing. They had their troubles as any couple did, though finding her in bed with their good friend was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back. Rae let out a rude laugh as she remembered how she came home early one afternoon to surprise Carla.

Guess who was surprised?

Rae crept into the house and quietly closed the door. She stifled a yelp as the thorns from the roses she carried p.r.i.c.ked her fingers.

"d.a.m.n it," she whispered with a low chuckle as she sucked on the wounded finger.

That was when she heard the giggling upstairs. She c.o.c.ked her head and started up the staircase. The laughter became louder as she reached their bedroom. She put her ear to the door and listened.

"G.o.d, don't stop..."

She heard Carla's voice, and Rae stepped back in disbelief.

"I bet Rae doesn't do this for you."

Her disbelief vanished-astonishment took over. That voice belonged to Linda, her best friend. They had been in the navy together and worked side by side for six years. Rae could hear her heart pounding in her ears as she reached for the doork.n.o.b and quietly opened the door.

Neither of them noticed Rae standing there watching, as if she were in some sort of weird surreal dream. Both were naked, with Carla writhing on the bed calling out Linda's name; Linda had her head buried between Carla's legs.

For an idiotic second, Rae thought to herself, what's she talking about? I do that for her.

"Excuse me," Rae called out; neither woman heard her. "Excuse me. Excuse me. Excuse me!" Rae took her fist and banged repeatedly on the door.

Both women shot up in bed. Breathing heavily, Carla frantically pulled for the blankets, which were on the floor.

"I hate to break this up," Rae continued in a dark voice, then took a deep breath and looked at Linda. "Get out of my house now."

Carla took a pillow and put it in front of herself while Linda stood and put up her hands. "Rae," she started as she gathered her clothes. She headed for the bathroom.

"No, you don't. Get the f.u.c.k out of my house. I won't tell you again, Linda." Her voice was shaking with anger.

"Linda. Go, please, sweetie," Carla pleaded.

Rae locked gazes with her friend. "Yes, sweetie, please go." She noticed the defiant look on Linda's face as she struggled into her jeans and shirt.

Without a word, Linda quickly walked past Rae, who stared at Carla with a pillow covering her. Carla looked down and said nothing.

Rae looked at the roses still in her hand and let out an ugly laugh. "Happy anniversary...darling," she added sarcastically and flung the roses on the bed, nearly hitting Carla in the face, and walked out.

Rae remembered how, after a few months of arguing and reconciliations, they called it quits. Rae couldn't lose that vivid image of them writhing on the bed-the bed she and Carla bought when Carla moved in with her.

Rae hadn't spoken to either of them since. She'd seen them from time to time but couldn't bring herself to say anything to them. What would she say? Polite conversation, or bulls.h.i.t as Rae liked to call it, was never one of her strong points.

As she pulled up to the gate of her client's building and waited, she knew she slowly but surely, brick by brick, put up the wall she had when she was in the navy. She was a loner then, letting no one in for any length of time. It was part of her job as it was with nearly all the military personnel. As with them, she needed to be unattached while she was in Naval Intelligence-no ties. No one to worry about, no one could be involved with her work. How could she ask anyone to be a part of something she could not explain?

"Miss Jefferson?"

Rae blinked, shaken from her reverie.

"Did you want in?" the security guard asked.

"Oh, yeah, Jim. Thanks."

The gate opened, and Rae drove through. ComTele Industries was one of Rae's newest clients. They had skyrocketed in the last year, but their security sucked, as Rae so eloquently stated in their first meeting.

For the past two months, she came up with several systems, all of which the board of directors liked but couldn't make a decision on. Rae was patient and polite, two virtues that did not come easy to her; she wanted to strangle all four of them.

She understood it was a big decision on their part. However, they really needed something done as soon as possible. They were running a big risk of having so many employees and no security check on any of them. They had government contracts now, and their medical research was a big draw. The board of directors agreed, but after each meeting, they decided on nothing.