Colby Velocity (9 page)

“I didn't think so.”

“It's a defect of the species,” he offered with over-the-top humility.

“Yeah. Among others.”

“So you've sworn off men,” he suggested.

Kendra shook her head. “No, not consciously.”

“What's your dating criteria?”

“Good-natured. Considerate of others. Financially stable. Sound judgment.” She couldn't be sure
but it looked as if his eyes had glazed over. “All that's presuming I'm dating.”

His eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to tell me you don't date?”

“Not in three years, two weeks and a couple of days.” She shouldn't still remember the exact date, but she did. Down to the hour, in fact, but she wouldn't mention that part.

“Not one single date?” he pressed.

“Sheesh, Rocky, don't go out of your way to depress me.”

“Seriously. Not one?”

She moved her head side to side. It was pathetic now that she confessed it out loud to another human being. “No dates. Nothing. I haven't been kissed in three years, two weeks—”

“And a couple of days,” he finished for her.

“Right.”

“Wow.”

He used that word a lot. “I would choose a number of words to describe the condition, but wow isn't one of them.”

“Just haven't met a good-natured, considerate-of-others guy who's financially stable and of good judgement, is that it?”

“Guess so.” She leaned back against the pillows. “Your mother would say I have issues.”

“Join the crowd,” he said with a laugh. “I've been
made aware of my many issues my whole life.” His lips curved into a smile. “My father would tell you that life is an issue.”

Rocky was right. She would hit it off with his mother. His father, too, from the sound of it.

“Thanks,” she felt compelled to say.

“For?”

“Taking my mind off exploding glass and panicked screams.”

He dropped his feet to the floor and stood.

Before she could guess if he'd decided a pot of coffee was in order or a bathroom break, he walked around to the side of the bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress, careful not to crowd her.

“That was my mistake.” He shook his head. “I shouldn't have left you. I feel really bad about that.”

This big guy never ceased to surprise her. “You did what I told you. It was my decision.” She shrugged. “I lived through it. And we learned something significant.”

“Castille's wife and/or an accomplice killed Aleesha Ferguson.”

She'd told him what she'd learned from the girl who called herself Delilah. “And that we're on to something. Otherwise no one would care to watch or to interfere with our efforts.”

He traced the small bandage on her cheek.
“They're getting nervous and that makes you a target.”

“Makes us both targets,” she amended.

He nodded. “They don't like that we're getting so close.”

Close. Yes. Too close.
This close
she could see the tiny gray specks that gave his deep blue eyes such depth and vividness. She liked his lips…the cut of his jaw and the impact of his high cheekbones. She wondered vaguely if there was Native American blood in his heritage. The blue eyes appeared even more profound framed by that coal-black hair.

“You keep looking at me that way and we're going to have a problem.”

She'd made some statement to that effect on the elevator this morning. She didn't let his statement or the idea that she'd given him the same prevent her from continuing to look into his eyes. Really look. The soft admiration and respect for her that she saw there fueled the warmth his nearness had ignited.

“What kind of problem?” she prompted. Did she have to spell it out?

“The kind where I end that long dry spell of no kisses.”

She moistened her lips. “I wouldn't categorize that as a problem.”

He leaned closer. “In that case” he brushed his lips against hers “let's bring on the rain.”

His lips settled on hers…softly…softly…a little more pressure…a little more intensity…until the heat that had been simmering inside her exploded into flames. She wrapped her arms around him and lost herself in his kiss.

His arms went around her and he leaned her into the pillows. She moaned softly. Loved the feel of his weight on her…the strength of his arms.

Her hands found their way beneath his open shirt. The feel of his warm skin lit a frenzy in her veins. Made her want to become one with all that heat searing every place his skin touched hers.

He drew his lips from hers. “Close your eyes,” he murmured. “Get some sleep. I'll be right here.” Her heart launched into her throat. She wasn't ready for this incredible feeling to end…

He moved around to the other side of the bed. An argument tightened her throat. The mattress shifted. Relief slid through her as he climbed into the bed next to her. He pulled her close to his chest.

“Sleep.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “We've got a lot to figure out when dawn comes.”

She relaxed into the protective heat he offered. Closed her eyes and allowed the worries and tensions of the case to drain away.

For the first time in more than three years she
felt connected—really connected—to something besides work.

To someone.

7:01 a.m.

He was a United States senator. This lack of control over the situation was unacceptable.

Completely unacceptable.

His wife had gone to her sister's.

Controlling his own wife had become an impossible task. She refused to cooperate. Instead, she had run away.

At the moment her theatrics were the least of his worries.

Judd stamped to the mirror and checked his reflection. He straightened his tie and squared his shoulders. Generally Sharon picked out his tie. A small thing she'd always handled for him. This would do.

His wife had no idea the pressure of carrying the weight of his office. He'd protected her from
the ugliness all these years. What had he gotten in return? She'd run away when he needed her most.

He could rely on no one, could trust no one.

He was in this alone.

At thirty he had risen to the position of state representative. By forty he was governor. He'd spent the past twenty years as a senator. That climb had been the cumulative result of complete dedication and unyielding determination.

This tragedy was not going to put a black mark on his record. The only mark to be left would be the one he accomplished with this history-making bill.

He glared at the newspaper lying on the console. Yoni Sayar's name was splashed across the front page headlines. An anonymous source had provided confirmed evidence that Sayar cavorted with terrorists. The accusation was ludicrous. Worse, Judd's enemies would attempt to tie this nasty business to him.

This had to end.

He pulled the cell phone from his interior jacket pocket that he used for making calls he wanted kept off the record. The phone was quite handy and utterly disposable. Most important, it could not be traced to him.

He entered the number. Waited for the voice on the other end. “This is unraveling at warp speed. I don't want to hear any more about the problems
you're encountering. I want to hear the solutions you've
already
put into place.”

More excuses! Judd's face tightened with the fury roaring in his chest. “You do whatever necessary to stop this now…today. Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir,” resounded hollowly.

Judd closed the phone.

It was true. He could depend on no one!

Except himself.

He surveyed his reflection in the mirror once more. There was one aspect he could handle himself.

Today.

7:50 a.m.

“I can't ask Wayne to run her prints.” Kendra considered the sunglasses she had carefully plucked from her battered purse. At the time she'd improvised and gotten Delilah to hold the sunglasses, Kendra had been grasping at straws. Once the woman walked away the chances of locating her again, without a last name, phone number or address, were slim to none.

Latent fingerprints would help identify her—if she had a criminal record. Bearing in mind her profession, that was a logical conclusion.

“Seems he's on the other side,” Rocky noted.

Kendra wanted to believe Wayne was the same dedicated professional he'd been when they first met, but last night had indicated otherwise. Castille likely owned him as he did so many others in positions of power.

“I can lift any prints on the glasses,” Kendra said, more to herself than to her partner. “But scanning what I find and getting it into the system for a comparison is the problem.”

“That's one of the things that impressed me about the Colby Agency.” Rocky chuckled. “You carry your own little CSI kits.”

She smiled at the man seated next to her in front of the hotel desk. “That's new this year.” She bit her bottom lip, considered the difference between the Colby staff and the Equalizers team. “How did the Equalizers take care of a situation like this?” Didn't really matter. They were all on the same team now. If she were completely honest with herself, she just wanted to hear him talk. She liked the sound of his voice. Liked the way he kissed even more. Heat shimmered through her as the memories from the wee hours of the morning whispered in her mind.

A grin lifted his lips, creating enduring little creases at the corners of his eyes. Something else she liked. “Excessive force. What else?”

“Ha-ha.”

“You do your
CSI
thing,” he offered. “I'll take care of scanning the prints and getting them into IAFIS. Don't sweat it.”

“How the hell can you do that?” The Integrated Automated Fingerprint Identification System belonged to the feds. Breaking into that system,
assuming anyone could do it with nothing more than a laptop and a hotel Internet server, was a serious crime.

He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “If I told you that would make you an accessory.”

Kendra shivered at the feel of his breath against her ear. That morning had been a little awkward, but waking up in his arms had been more than worth the discomfort. He made her feel like a woman on every level. Something no one else had been able to do.

Not even Wayne.

While she'd slept, Rocky had gone through her bag of damaged clothes and dug out the only pair of jeans she'd packed. One of only two pairs that she owned. The jeans only had one slash, low enough on the leg not to be a problem. He'd laid out another pair of her lacy panties that had survived. Her cheeks warmed at the thought. Sexy lingerie was her one secret vanity.

She liked the way it felt against her skin even if no one but her ever saw it. The T-shirt sporting her alma mater had only a small rip on one shoulder. The getup looked a little odd with the only other pair of shoes she'd packed, high-heeled sandals. But it was better than a shoe with a broken heel and a bloody suit.

The shimmy of her cell phone against the wood
desktop reminded her that she was supposed to be focused on the case, not on Rocky's ability to make her want things she'd thought she might never again want. She picked up the phone, read the display. Her gaze connected with Rocky's. “It's Castille.”

Rocky's eyebrows lifted at the news. “I guess the wife ratted us out.”

No doubt. Kendra opened the phone. “Kendra Todd.”

“Have you seen the paper?”

Kendra turned the phone away from her face and whispered to Rocky. “Check to see if there's a newspaper outside the door.”

He nodded and headed that way.

“You do realize,” Kendra said to her former boss, “that the press conference related to Yoni's death was rubbish.”

“I have complete faith in our law enforcement system, Kendra. Perhaps if you listened to their advice you wouldn't be finding your way into so much trouble. You've lost that professional edge that landed you the position on my staff. I don't understand what happened.”

She touched the bandage on her cheek. Last night had been a close call—closer than she wanted to admit even now. “What do you want, Senator?”

Rocky returned to the desk with newspaper in hand.

Respected Lobbyist's Murder Reveals Ties to Terrorism

Yoni's family would be devastated all over again. This was so unfair.

“We need to talk, Kendra.
Now.
”

Frustration and anger twisted painfully in her stomach. “Isn't that what we're doing?” She wanted to shake this fool. What in God's name was he covering up? What had he gotten Yoni into? This was the threat Yoni had feared…smeared across the headlines.

“Meet me at the C & O Park, Fletcher's Boat House. Quarter of nine.”

“Senator, we—”

Dead air echoed in her ear. He'd ended the call. She stared at the screen, furious all over again. Pompous fool. He had issued his order and fully expected her to obey.

“Looks like whoever was blackmailing Sayar went through with his threat.” Rocky tapped the headline. “If this story has no merit, it's a damned shame to do this to a man no longer here to defend himself.”

“It's lies,” Kendra snapped before she could regain her cool. “All of it.” Yoni was dead, what was the blackmailer's point in this? There was nothing more to gain from Yoni Sayar.

She pushed back her chair and stood. “The sena
tor wants to talk.” So did she, she just didn't like him making all the terms. Kendra had a lot of questions. Questions the senator wasn't going to like in the least. Somehow she had to get him cornered and responding on her terms.

“I guess we have his full attention.”

“That's the thing about politicians, Rocky,” she explained as she grabbed her purse. “Even when you have their full attention, you never know how they're going to spin what you believe you have.”

Fletcher's Boat House,
Chesapeake & Ohio Canal Park, 8:43 a.m.

F
LETCHER'S, WHICH OFFERED
boat rentals and concession services for this area of the park, was closed at this hour of the morning. The parking lot was empty. Rocky had scoped out a slot on the far side of the building to avoid being spotted right away.

He wasn't too keen on meeting Castille in an out-of-the-way location like this. He and Kendra had every reason to believe Castille was behind the drive-by shooting last night, if not the termination of Sayar's life. Who else had anything to gain by forcing Kendra off the search for the truth? So far, Castille was the top name on that too-short list.

This could be a trap. With that in mind, Kendra had notified the Colby Agency as to their planned movements. Unsatisfied with the openness of the
location, Rocky had insisted on taking a position in the trees that flanked the parking lot. Once Castille arrived, depending upon where he parked and whether or not he approached Kendra or she approached him, Rocky would adjust his position for the best possible backup scenario.

He tightened his grip on his weapon. This time he intended to make sure Kendra stayed safe.

A black luxury sedan rolled into the parking lot. Rocky scanned the interior of the vehicle. A driver up front and Castille in the back. No other occupants were readily visible.

He'd warned Kendra not to get out of the car. To force Castille to come to her. Rocky hoped she would heed his advice.

The car circled the lot, then parked beside the rental where Kendra waited. Castille got out before the driver could come around and open his door. Looked like the man was in a huff this morning.

“Hold your position until the driver is back in the car,” Rocky ordered his partner via the communications link.

“Copy that.” Kendra held her position until the driver had gotten back behind the wheel and closed the door.

Rocky watched her movements as she emerged from the rental, while monitoring Castille's, as well.
As Kendra approached the man, Rocky braced for trouble.

“Whatever you think you're doing,” Castille said as soon as she'd come to a stop in front of him, “you are making a monumental mistake. One that will only detract from the truth you claim to be seeking.”

“What truth is that?” Kendra demanded. “Your version of the truth or the actual truth?”

“My wife has nothing to do with any of this,” he roared, his tone literally vibrating with fury. “Stay away from her.”

“Were you aware that last month she sustained damage to that very nice
white
car you bought her for Christmas three years ago?”

“What're you talking about?” he demanded, the fury evolving into a low growl.

Rocky watched the senator's body language very carefully. The man kept his arms at his sides. If he made a move toward the interior of his jacket, Rocky was going to make a move of his own…one that would likely land him in prison for the rest of his natural life.

“June 2,” Kendra explained. “There was a hit-and-run on L Street. The victim died at the scene. I have an eyewitness who says it was your wife driving that car.”

Castille's arm came up.

Rocky braced.

The senator shook his finger at Kendra. “Do not include my wife's name in your ridiculous theories! She spent a week with her sister in Alexandria the first part of last month. She wasn't even here!”

“Perhaps she was jealous of your involvement with Aleesha Ferguson,” Kendra suggested, ignoring the alibi he'd tossed out. “Or maybe she just enjoys spending time with her sister rather than you.”

Castille took a threatening step toward her.

Rocky leveled his weapon. Cleared his brain of all else save for a clean head shot.

“I will see that you're held responsible for spreading such lies!”

Kendra didn't flinch. “You sound almost as if you really believe that.”

Rocky held his breath. She was pushing hard.

Castille suddenly executed a three-sixty, scanning the woods. “Where's your friend? I'm certain you didn't come without him.”

“This is between you and me, Senator,” she hedged. “A private conversation about the truth.”

“Is he filming this meeting?” Castille glanced around again. “Is that your game?”

Kendra fully recognized that Castille wasn't going to let the idea of Rocky's hidden presence go. “He's
here for my protection,” she admitted. “There's no camera or other documentary source.”

“Tell him to come out,” Castille demanded. “I want him here where I can see him or I'm not saying another word.”

That the senator appeared prepared to continue their conversation suggested that he in fact had something else to say. That was more than she'd hoped for. “All right.” Kendra motioned for Rocky to join them. Though he'd heard the senator's demand, the goal was for Castille to believe the conversation thus far had only been between the two of them. Rocky wouldn't give his presence away without Kendra's approval.

Her partner stepped from the dense tree line and strode toward the parking lot where she and Castille faced off.

When he stopped next to her, she said to Castille, “See, no electronic devices.”

Castille wasn't entirely convinced. “Put your hands up high so that I can see for myself that there are no recording devices.” He glanced at Kendra, his gaze openly accusatory. “Both of you.”

Kendra indulged him by raising her hands. Rocky followed suit. She hoped the senator didn't over-react when he found Rocky's weapon. That could complicate matters considerably.

Castille patted down Rocky first, then Kendra.
She schooled her surprise that he didn't find the handgun she knew for a certainty Rocky was carrying.

“Put your purse,” Castille said to her, then to Rocky he added, “and your cell phones in the car.”

Kendra dropped her cell into her purse and turned to do as the senator had requested.

“He can do it,” Castille qualified.

She handed the purse to Rocky who did as the senator insisted.

“Are you satisfied now?” she asked the man she'd once respected and admired.

Castille held his tongue until Rocky returned to her side. “What I'm about to tell you is of an extremely sensitive nature. If you dare to leak a word of this to anyone, I will staunchly deny all of it.”

“What about your driver?” Rocky countered with a nod toward the senator's car. “Is he armed? Or using any monitoring devices?”

Castille's gaze narrowed with irritation. He opened his jacket so that they could see when he removed his cell phone. He entered a speed-dial number, then said, “Take a walk.” He closed the phone and slid it back into his pocket, once again ensuring his movements were fully visible.

The driver's door of the senator's car opened
and his employee emerged. He closed the door and started walking toward the parking lot entrance.

Whatever Castille had to say, it was clearly startling news. Truth or not. He'd taken the cooperation thing way beyond Kendra's expectations.

“Yoni and I,” he began, “have worked long and hard developing the Transparency Bill. You may have heard rumors in the media,” he said to Kendra.

“I've heard some rumblings.” She elected not to reveal the information Yoni had passed along to her before his death.

“As you can well imagine,” Castille continued, “this is not a popular piece of proposed legislation. However, Yoni and I had orchestrated a careful plan for revealing it to the public. We both knew that once the American people were aware of what we were proposing, none of those opposed would be able to actually vote against it and save face with their constituents.”