Fires of Autumn (38 page)

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Authors: Kathryn Le Veque

BOOK: Fires of Autumn
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Peter put
up his hands to calm her. “Casey, it’s okay,” he insisted softly. “Sit back
down. I’ll get you out of here in a little bit.”

“Actually,
you won’t,” Meade looked at Peter as if daring him to contradict him. “You’re
going to be my guest for the time being, Ms. Cleburne.  I think it will be very
enlightening for the both of us.”

“Bullshit,”
Casey snarled, backing away from the old man and from Peter. “I’m getting out
of here if I have to walk.  I’m not staying here any longer and I’ll charge you
both with kidnapping if you try to keep me here.  I’m going home and Colt is
going to hear about this.”

Meade
stood up as Peter tried to calm Casey down. “Casey, please,” he begged softly.
“It’s not all bad.  Mr. Meade is just trying to figure out how best to solve
the issue.”

Casey
wouldn’t let him get near her. She kept backing away but as she did so, she
realized she was feeling very woozy.  It was difficult to keep her balance and
a strange, light-headedness filled her.

“There is
no issue, Special Agent Harrios,” she hissed. “You’re in a hell of a lot of
trouble if you don’t… if you don’t….”

She
suddenly tipped backwards and Peter leapt forward to grab her, but he couldn’t
catch her before she hit her head the bookshelf.  She went out like a light as
Peter caught her, preventing her from banging her head on the floor.  Peter
pulled her up his arms, distress on his face.  As he stood up with the limp
woman against his chest, he turned to Meade.

“That was
a hard knock,” he said. “I’m taking her to the hospital.”

Meade
shook his head. “She’ll be okay.  Take her upstairs, third door on the left.”

“She
knocked herself out when she fell backwards,” Peter said, concerned. It was the
first time he had ever stood up to Mr. Meade. “She needs to see a doctor.”

Meade
waved him off. “Don’t go getting a conscience, Harrios,” he said. “Colt did and
now he’s in trouble. Take her upstairs and put her to bed. She’ll be fine once
the drug wears off.”

Peter
looked at him, disgust and shock on his face. “What drug?”

“The one I
put in her water. Rohypnol.  You know – the date rape drug.”

Peter’s
eyebrows lifted. “You gave her
that
?” his disgust was evident. “If you
just put it in her water, it wouldn’t have taken affect so quickly. She knocked
herself out when she tripped and hit her head. She needs a hospital.”

“Put her
to bed,” Meade’s expression was deadly serious. “I’ll look out for her this
afternoon. You go tell Colt that I want to speak with him. Immediately.”

Peter’s
jaw ticked as he turned for the stairs. He took Casey up to the lavish second
floor, down to the bedroom that Meade had indicated.  The old man was following
him and Peter entered the very pretty bedroom with its massive canopy bed,
laying Casey carefully on the mattress.  Meade, in an oddly fatherly gesture,
took a quilt neatly folded in the closet and put it over her. All bundled up on
the big, fluffy bed, Peter stood over her a moment, hands on his hips, knowing
Colt was going to kill him for this.

“Go,”
Meade told him. “Bring Colt back here immediately.”

Peter
headed for the door, angry and disgusted. “Don’t give her any more drugs,” he
told him. “She’s pregnant.”

Meade
registered great surprise, turning to look at Casey as Peter quit the room. 
“Pregnant?” he repeated to himself. “Interesting. Very interesting.”

 

***

 

When Casey
woke up, it was dark in the room.  She had no idea where she was and she
blinked her eyes a couple of times, thinking she was dreaming.  She could see a
very big canopy over her head and a bedroom she didn’t recognize.  It was so
dark in the room that she really couldn’t make out any detail, but she was both
very puzzled and very scared. Uneasiness crept over her. When she shifted
slightly on the bed, a big head suddenly loomed over her in the darkness.

“Angel?”
it was Colt. “Are you awake?”

Casey had
no idea why she burst into tears, but she did.  She sat up and threw her arm
around Colt, her nausea returning full-bore.  He held her tightly, his big hand
on her head, stroking her beautiful hair.

“It’s
okay,” he whispered soothingly. “I’m here. Everything’s okay.”

Casey was
sobbing, her head on his shoulder. “I… I don’t remember…,” she choked. “What
happened? Where am I?”

Colt was
rocking her gently. “You’re at Chase Hollow,” he murmured. “You don’t remember
how you got here?”

“I don’t
know,” she wept. “What’s Chase Hollow?”

Colt
wasn’t sure how to answer. “It’s a historic home outside of Middleburg,” he
replied. He knew she had passed out and hit her head. He also knew about the
Rohypnol.  He was struggling with every ounce of self-control not to lose his
temper again, like he had earlier.  There was still carnage downstairs. “Peter
brought you here. Do you remember that?”

Casey had
stopped her painful sobbing and now lay against him with her head on his
shoulder, feeling safe with his big arms around her.  She wasn’t so frightened
anymore now that he was here and was able to calm her tears somewhat.  She
struggled to clear her mind.

“I
remember a little,” she said, her voice hoarse and her nose sniffly. “He
brought me out to meet some guy who introduced himself as Victor Meade. But… I
don’t remember a whole lot after that.”

Colt
stroked her back and hugged her gently. “It’s okay,” he whispered, kissing the
side of her head. “I don’t want you to worry about anything. I’ll take you
home.”

She pulled
back to look at him, pale-faced and red-eyed. “Why am I even here?” she wanted
to know. “Peter never did tell me why he brought me here.”

“And he
probably can’t now,” a voice came from the bedroom door and they both turned to
see Mr. Meade standing in the doorway.  He smiled weakly and flipped on the
lights. “Colt saw to that. Last I saw of Peter, he was heading to the emergency
room.”

Casey was
disoriented, nauseous and scared as watched Mr. Meade enter the bedroom.  She
looked at Colt with a mixture of curiosity and shock. “What did you do?”

Colt’s jaw
ticked and he glanced at Meade, making sure to keep his arms around Casey as if
protecting her from the powerful old man.

“A lot
less than what he deserved,” he muttered.

“Colt,”
Casey’s forced him to look at her. “What did you do to Peter?”

“He beat
him soundly,” Meade replied as he approached the bed. “I sent Peter to retrieve
Colt from the White House.  Colt went peacefully enough but when they reached
Peter’s car and Peter told him the details of the summons, your lover beat the
man within an inch of his life, threw him in the trunk of his own car, and
drove him over here.  I had to call an ambulance to take him to the hospital.”

Casey’s
eyes widened at Colt. “You did that to Peter?”

Colt
wouldn’t answer her.  He was looking at Meade. “He’s lucky I let him live,” he
growled. “If anyone else touches Casey again, I swear to God that I’ll make
sure it’s their last day on earth.”

Meade
wasn’t intimidated. In fact, he nodded.  “I believe you completely.”

“That
includes you.”

Meade
smiled as if he found something very funny. “I know.”

Colt’s
dark eyes lingered on the man a moment before turning back to Casey and burying
his face in the side of her head.   It was as if he just wanted to reassure
himself that she was okay, using the scent of her to calm his nerves. It was
like a drug to him, soothing and centering him.  Meade watched with some
astonishment.

“I had
heard how devoted you were to her,” he said softly. “But seeing you with her
now hardly did that rumor justice.   Tell me something, Colt – do you remember
how to breathe without her? Sleep without her? Function without her?  That is a
very real possibility, my friend, unless you and I come to an agreement.”

Casey
could feel Colt tense against her.  His grip tightened as he pulled his face
from the crook of her neck.  Then he turned to Meade with as much hatred as
Casey had ever seen.  He was seething with it.

“You saw
what happened to Peter,” he rumbled. “If you so much as touch a hair on Casey’s
head, I’ll make you wish you’d never been born. Let me be more specific; I’ll
systematically pick off the Core members one at a time until there are no more
idiotic old men left to kill.  If you threaten her, you threaten me, and I will
protect what is mine. Is this in any way unclear to you?”

Meade
didn’t back down.  He could see where this was heading and he sighed faintly.
“Truthfully, I know you’ll do exactly as you say,” he nodded thoughtfully.  “I
know what kind of a weapon you are, Colt. I’ve seen you in action.  But here is
the problem as I see it - I want you to focus on your assignment. You want to
focus on Casey.  How shall we solve this problem amicably?”

Colt still
held Casey tightly. “Leave her alone,” he growled. “Leave her alone and put her
and her family out of your mind.  Have I ever failed you?”

“No.”

“I’m not
in any danger of breaking that record, but if you push me, you’ll be sorry you
did.  I have no reason to turn on you or ignore my responsibilities, but
involving Casey as you have, you won’t give me any choice. I’ll protect her to
the death and I’ll kill anyone who gets in my way. Is that really what you want?”

Meade
eased somewhat. “Of course not,” he said honestly. “But you have a job to do.”

“And I’ll
do it. Just leave her out of it.”

Meade
stood at the foot of the bed, pondering the situation and his choices. The
situation was critical enough that he felt he needed to stake his claim. His
wants were more important than Colt’s emotions.  He sighed again, looking at
Casey as she was huddled in Colt’s embrace.  He could see the love between the
pair, so the reports he had been given were not untrue. If anything, they
didn’t do the attachment justice.  He was beginning to feel some uncertainty,
but that was all. The ability to feel compassion had died in him long ago.

“I will
leave her out of it, providing you accomplish what you are supposed to,” he
said quietly, moving for the door. “Enough said tonight, Colt. Take her home. 
But don’t think to betray me or there will be serious consequences. I can get
to her any place, anywhere, and you’ll never know until it’s too late. I will
say no more.”

He left
the room, leaving Colt and Casey in a tight embrace on the bed.  Casey’s gaze
lingered on the doorway before turning to Colt.

“He’s
going to kill me if you don’t find something to convict Russ, isn’t he?” she
whispered.

Colt just
shook his head.  Then he pulled her into such a tight embrace that Casey could
scarcely breathe.

“Let’s go
home,” he murmured.  “Do you feel all right to travel?”

“I’m fine.
I just want to get the hell out of here.”

Colt stood
up from the bed and carefully pulled her to her feet. She was a bit wobbly so
he ended up sweeping her into his arms and carrying her down to the black Dodge
Charger down in the driveway. 

Meade
wasn’t anywhere to be found as they crossed the dark gravel path to the car. 
Colt put her down when they reached the car, hitting the unlock on the remote
and carefully helping her into the car.  As they drove away in the darkness,
Casey couldn’t help but wonder if she wasn’t going to end up back here at some
point if Colt didn’t do what he was supposed to do.

He was
supposed to ruin a President.

 

***

 

The office was dimly lit
at this late hour, but Scott had been on a conference call with members of the
Ways and Means committee for a couple of hours, well after the closing bell and
people went home for  the night.  As he finished up some notes on the call, he
heard someone banging around in the outer office.  It didn’t take long before a
familiar face made an appearance.

“Hello, senator,” Kurt
gave him a wave as he leaned in the door. “You’re here awfully late.”

Distracted from his
notes, Scott sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. “So are you,” he
said, rubbing his tired eyes. “Don’t you have a life?”

Kurt laughed softly. “If
you don’t have one,
I
don’t have one.”

Scott grinned, glancing
at the clock. “I’d like to get home to see my son before he goes to bed,” he
commented. “The kid is growing up right before my eyes.”

Kurt stepped in to the
office, nodding. “Kids grow fast. “

Scott rubbed his eyes
again. “He looks so much like his mother now, it’s really eerie. He sounds like
her, too. He’s been complaining so much lately about being an only child that
he sounds like his mother did after he was born.  Carol wanted more kids right
away but it just didn’t happen. Now it looks like I’m going to have to marry
someone with kids already so Robby will have someone to grow up with. And I
suppose it would be nice to come home to someone every night.”

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