Our Little Secret (29 page)

“We have to return to Washington as soon as
possible. I think we’d better call Mihaly, too,” he said, grimacing at the thought.

Lauren lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Why?”

“Because I know why Dad and Meg disappeared. I just figured out who tried to blackmail them.”

“Who?”

Even saying it aloud seemed dangerous. Instead, he put a finger to his lips and asked for the car keys.

When he was behind the wheel, squealing the tires as he sped out of the senator’s driveway, he told her.

He knew she heard him over the noise because she stared in disbelief. “The Secret Service? That’s impossible!”

“No, it isn’t.”

“How can the Secret Service possibly be blackmailing senators? They’re the ones who set up the sting in the first place.”

“Some of them did,” he corrected. “But I think some others, maybe only one or two, pulled off this blackmail scheme. Think about it. Why else would my dad and Meg run from the Secret Service? They must have figured out who was behind it, and didn’t know who to trust.”

“How? How did they figure it out?” She frowned, obviously not convinced. And she wasn’t blinded enough by love to believe him without proof.

The idea that Lauren might love him was intriguing, and worth exploring, but not now.

“I can’t be sure how they figured it out. Maybe it was the blond guy in the photos. Maybe my dad recognized him.” Anticipating Lauren’s objection, he added, “Or if the pictures were faked, maybe Meg recognized him. Anyway, the timing fits. Chapman said
an envelope was delivered to them just before they ran. I agree with him that it had to be the photos. Realizing who the blond guy was would have been enough to spook them into disappearing. He’s got to be Secret Service. It’s the only reason they would run from the people who were supposed to protect them.”

He dug the cell phone out of his pocket and handed it to Lauren. “Here, the airline’s number is in the directory. See if we can get on a flight back to D.C. today.”

She looked worried as she dialed, so he knew she was at least partially convinced. With the phone to her ear, Lauren asked, “Why would the Secret Service care about how anyone voted on the offshore drilling bill?”

“They wouldn’t. It’s not the agents, it’s whoever they’re working for,” he told her grimly. “Senator McNabb swore it couldn’t be the president. But those agents have to be doing this on behalf of someone, someone who cares about the outcome of that bill.”

That was the missing piece of the puzzle. Who had the most to gain by passing that legislation? Drew didn’t keep up with politics well enough to know. His father’s office staff might be helpful, but he didn’t want to involve more people, especially people he didn’t know. But Senator Pierson was already involved, and he would know who would benefit.

While Lauren spoke to the airline, Drew devised a plan. He was so lost in thought, he hadn’t even noticed the sedan that zoomed up from behind and shot out on their left until it was beside them. It was too close. Drew swerved sharply to the right. The Mustang fishtailed, tires sliding on the crushed shells and sand of the shoulder, throwing up stones that banged against the windshield and sheet metal. Drew swore, fighting
the wheel. The car rocked to a stop as the speeding sedan roared past more cars until it was out of sight.

“Goddamned freakin’ idiot, he could get someone killed!” He looked at Lauren, who was rubbing her shoulder. “Are you all right?” He undid his seat belt and gently grabbed her arm, turning her toward him.

“I’m fine, I just bumped my shoulder on the door, and dropped the phone. Did you see where it went?”

Her eyes searched the floor but it was something else that grabbed Drew’s attention. Gazing past Lauren, he stared at three neat, round holes in the passenger door and glove box.

A chill swept over him. The banging sound had been bullets, not stones. He swore again, his grip inadvertently tightening on Lauren’s shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” She followed his gaze, looking at the holes in confusion, then dawning horror. Her voice was weak. “They shot at us?” She turned to him, eyes clear gray and wide with fear. “Why?”

The terror in her gaze sent a hot bolt of anger ripping through his gut.

“Maybe because we’re getting too close to the truth.”

Wedged between Lauren’s seat and the center console, Drew spotted the cell phone. He called 911, reporting the shooting in terse words, and hung up only when he heard approaching sirens.

White and shaken, Lauren watched him. The urgent need to pull her into his arms left him frustrated—the damn gear shift was in the way. He held her hand, keeping her cold fingers wrapped in a reassuring grip, no longer questioning the part of him that knew he would never let go of her.

Or the sobering realization that went with it: He’d brought her here, exposed her to this. This was his fault. His first responsibility was to get her to safety.

“Were you able to get us on a flight to Washington tonight?” he asked.

She nodded, then found her voice. “Yes.”

“Good.” In Washington, he could make sure she was safe.

From the opposite direction, a squad car raced toward them down the center line. “When we’re done here, I’m going to make sure we get an escort back to the airport. As soon as we do, call Mihaly and have him meet us at the airport. I don’t care how late it is.”

“Okay. But why?”

“Because he’s the only one who knows what he’s doing with this spy business, and he doesn’t have conflicting allegiances. I’m sure he doesn’t give a damn about the Secret Service; he only cares about Meg.”

As the squad car did a U-turn behind them, he glanced at Lauren. She wasn’t going to like this. “There is one problem.”

“What?” she asked cautiously.

“If we want him to believe us, we’re going to have to tell him how we made the connection with the Secret Service. We have to tell him about the photos of Meg and the blond guy.”

They not only had to tell him, they had to
show
him.

Lauren didn’t like it; she was certain she was betraying Meg. But when Mihaly met their plane at 2:00 a.m. and heard about the X-rated pictures, his face became stern and cold. He insisted on seeing them. She offered to describe them, but Mihaly wouldn’t budge.

Meg was going to kill her.

Lauren was at the bank when it opened, bleary-eyed after only two hours of sleep and sunburned after forgetting to reapply sunscreen for the drive back to the airport. With minimal conversation, she retrieved the envelope from the safe deposit box and hurried back to the car.

“Not here,” she said, holding the envelope away from Mihaly’s grasping hands.

“I’ll be very quick,” he said, reaching again.

“No. When we get to the house.” If she had to let him see the photos, at least it would be someplace private.

Neither Drew nor Mihaly objected, and neither said a word as they drove back to the Creighton home.

Mihaly followed impatiently as Lauren led the way into the living room. The lightweight envelope felt heavy and ominous in her hand. She thrust it at Mihaly.

Lauren hadn’t planned to look, but Mihaly collapsed onto the sofa across from her and dumped the photos on the coffee table. She glanced, then looked away, blushing. It wasn’t the sex she found embarrassing. It was that they showed Meg with a man whose only interest was victimizing her. She wished there’d been a less brutal way to convince Mihaly of the blackmail scheme.

Drew stood nearby, his gaze also avoiding the photos as he watched the Romanian.

Mihaly spread the photos out, studying each one with a grim expression. Lauren ached for him, doubting any man’s love could hold up to that sort of betrayal. Certainly she would never be as stoic as Mihaly if she were to see compromising photos of Drew. The pain of that thought was so intense she shuddered and blocked it from her mind. It was not her love life that was crumbling here; it was Meg’s.

Mihaly’s jaw tightened, his dark eyes unreadable as he gathered the photos and stacked them facedown on the table before leaning back against the sofa.

“These are fake,” he pronounced.

Lauren shared a sympathetic glance with Drew.

“I thought so, too,” she said carefully. “At first. I just couldn’t picture Meg doing that. I mean, I could, but not with some guy who…” She was making a mess of it. “But I’m pretty sure that’s Meg. I
mean…” She glanced at Drew. Oh, what the hell, he’d already seen everything. “I’m sure it’s her, Mihaly. And the man is the same guy another senator described, probably the same one who broke into your apartment. Meg had to be set up.”

Mihaly’s mouth twitched into an odd smile. She wondered if he was trying to hide his pain, but his eyes were definitely twinkling with amusement.

“You thought I meant that wasn’t Meg?” He chuckled. “No, that is most certainly Meg. But that is not our young Scandinavian friend. It is
his
picture that has been faked.”

Confused, Lauren glanced from Mihaly, to the stacked photos, then back to Mihaly. It was a tempting idea, but made no sense. “What makes you think so?”

“Because it is me.” He actually seemed to be enjoying her discomfort. “I am the man in those pictures.”

She realized her mouth was hanging open, and closed it. “How, um, I mean, what… ?” She gave up.

“They were obviously stolen from my apartment. You must realize they were meant to be private, only for Meg and me.”

Numbly, Lauren nodded. If she learned any more about her sister’s love life she’d never be able to look her in the eyes without blushing.

Drew cleared his throat, probably no more eager than she was to know the details of Meg’s private life. “Why would they change them?” he asked. “They couldn’t work as blackmail, since Meg would have recognized them.”

“I suspect your father was the intended target, at first. If their marriage were real, these might have been very effective blackmail.”

“At first? What are you talking about?” Drew demanded.

“Imagine the situation you described to me,” Mihaly explained. “Senator Creighton and Meg announce their marriage. They wait for someone to contact them with some sort of blackmail. They are prepared for this type of photo, but they aren’t worried. If the pictures are of Senator Creighton and some woman, he would expect that they can not damage his career. It is well known that he has dated, and been intimate with, many women in this town. Am I correct?” he asked Drew.

“Correct,” Drew muttered.

“In his home state, it is known he is like this. It is also known he is a good senator, so they re-elect him. If these photos show up, so what? He says, ‘I am appalled, I did not know she took them.’ Then maybe the woman looks bad, that’s all. They would not influence his vote. He doesn’t care, so he is immune.”

Mihaly watched both of them to see if they followed his reasoning. Lauren nodded. “We get that much. Senator Creighton can’t be blackmailed with dirty pictures of himself. But they would expect him to want to keep similar pictures of his wife out of the press.”

“Yes, quite likely,” Mihaly agreed. “It is the nature of politics, at least in your country. Wives are expected to be pure, a good influence on the man. The people are more likely to forgive his indiscretions if his wife does.”

His assessment of American politics sounded right on target to Lauren. “So why change the pictures? Why aren’t they just as effective with your picture on
them? It shows his wife fooling around with another man.”

Mihaly rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “This is the troubling part. I believe the pictures are more than blackmail. They are a warning.”

“How? For whom?” Drew said it, but Lauren was glad he asked. She was starting to wonder if she was the only one getting lost in the tangled web of lies.

Mihaly assessed them before answering, debating how much information to share. Finally, pointing to the pictures, he said, “Do you understand what this means? They broke into my apartment to get them. The blackmailers know who I am and what I do, and they were
still
able to get into my apartment. Meg knows what that says about their level of competence.”

Drew was nodding, but Lauren wasn’t about to let him off that easily. “That’s not good enough,” she said, surprising both men. “I want specifics here. We’re talking about my sister, who apparently means something to you.”

“I love Meg,” Mihaly said, as if that should have been obvious. “And she loves me.”

“So you said. And I’m beginning to believe it, at least your side of it. So I think I have a right to know exactly who you are. Are you a spy? Have you involved Meg in something dangerous or illegal?”

“Lauren, he can’t—” Drew began. Mihaly cut him off with a raised hand.

“It’s okay, she has a right to ask.” He smiled at her. “Spy. That word has a certain panache, no? Perhaps more than I deserve. I am the Romanian Deputy Ambassador to the United States. But I also provide
information to certain people in my country. Sensitive information. I do not meet with agents in dark alleys or sneak into government buildings to steal documents. Usually. But what I do is not always legal. Technically.”