Our Little Secret (32 page)

“My point exactly. Probably ’roid rage.”

“Hmm.” She let it go. Her opinion wasn’t going to count, anyway. “So he refused to reimburse you?”

“I believe that was the gist of his profanity.”

Knowing Gerald, that couldn’t be the end of the story. “So?”

Gerald flashed an evil smile and chewed his apple as if it were a piece ripped directly from Renke’s leg. “You know me so well, already. And you are so right. I’ve drafted a detailed letter to his superiors about Agent Renke’s uncalled-for aggression, along with a bill for the coat, which they
will
pay for in full. And let me tell you, I don’t buy cheap sweatshop knockoffs.”

“I could tell.” Lauren gave a solemn nod.

“Fortunately, I have the receipt.”

“Of course you do.”

“And witnesses. That’s you. These people don’t know who they’re messing with.”

Lauren’s smile was as much from admiration as amusement. “I guess you know how to deal with bureaucrats, huh?”

“Honey, I deal with AGAs every day. I could eat these guys for breakfast.”

“AGAs?”

“Arrogant Government Assholes. Can’t throw a stone in this town without hitting two of them.” He bit into the apple for emphasis.

Lauren let out a small laugh.

Gerald pointed his apple at her. “Take some advice from the master, sweetheart. If you’re going to play with the big boys, the only way to beat them is with their own rules. And they’d better not try turning it into a paper chase. I can bury those pencil pushers in paperwork, if that’s the game they want to play.”

“I’ll remember that.”

Even though she didn’t expect to need it. She was almost done playing with the big boys. They’d identified the blond guy, and when Renke found out what he’d been doing for the past couple years, they might know who hired him. No doubt an AGA of the first order. And once they knew who it was, Meg and Harlan wouldn’t be the only ones in possession of that deadly secret. They would be out of danger.

She wished Renke would hurry up.

He arrived minutes later, looking rushed and smelling like greasy fast food.

Chapman grabbed a folder from him and headed toward the living room. “What took so long?”

“I stopped for a burger.” He shrugged out of his jacket as Chapman opened the folder. “Doesn’t matter, I didn’t find anything helpful.”

Lauren exchanged concerned looks with Drew as they all followed Chapman.

They stood around while Chapman shuffled a few papers, pausing to read while everyone remained unnaturally silent. It took half a minute. “Shit,” he spat out, shoving the papers at Renke. “The guy, Marlow, has
been detailed to the White House for the past year. He’s worked with all levels of staff from the president down.”

Renke nodded. “That’s what I mean. He could have had contact with almost anyone. Senators, congressmen, cabinet members, you name it. Any one of them might want to set their own political agenda. This is a dead end.”

Chapman nodded, his gaze focused on nothing as he thought. When his eyes finally sparked with determination again, Lauren was surprised to see him turn to Drew rather than Renke. “We need to identify Marlow’s partner. That’s our only chance to narrow things down. And as far as I can tell from your story, we only know of one person who got a good look at him.”

Drew’s eyes caught the same spark as he nodded. “The desk clerk at our hotel. The kid said he wasn’t blond, so I didn’t ask him to identify the man. But it must be him, the blond guy’s partner.”

Mihaly was apparently thinking along the same lines. “Maybe one of these men recruited the other. But maybe they were both recruited by the same man. Perhaps there is some official they both had contact with. If we get an ID, we can compare assignments with Marlow.”

Chapman didn’t seem excited to have so many self-appointed assistants, but only asked, “What time did you talk to the desk clerk?”

“It was about three thirty in the morning, just before we left for the airport.”

“Night shift. Okay, I’ll call the hotel, get his home address. Maybe we can catch him before he goes to work.”

He was back within five minutes. “No go. The kid
lives with his mother. Mom says he’s out with friends and won’t come home before going to work. She suggested I look for him at Gamer’s nightclub in Arlington or a nearby McDonald’s,” he reported dryly. “I say we wait until his shift starts at eleven.”

Five hours. Crime solving was getting duller by the minute. Lauren could think of a fun way to pass the time but stealing away upstairs with Drew would be rather conspicuous. Disgruntled and tired from being up all night, she went upstairs alone to nap.

No one seemed to have moved when she came downstairs four hours later, except Gerald. While the others sat silently behind magazines or newspapers, he had resorted to dusting the furniture to keep busy. On hands and knees, he squinted through his wire-rimmed glasses as he polished the clawed foot of an end table. Sighing, Lauren picked up a magazine and joined Drew on the sofa.

Two minutes later she was startled by a yell.

“Ouch! Holy effin’ hell! Darn it!” Holding his knee, Gerald rubbed vigorously, then picked up something from the carpet. The object in his fingers caught a tiny glint from the table lamp. “Someone lost a diamond ring.”

He looked directly at Lauren.

“Not mine,” she said, shrugging.

Gerald’s gaze drifted to her ringless left hand and his eyebrows rose.

Hearing a soft snort from Drew beside her, she caught his smile as he kept his attention on his newspaper. “Finders keepers,” he murmured, as he shot her a hot glance from behind the pages.

Lauren felt heat rise in her cheeks, wanting to believe Drew referred to more than just her ring.

“Now, that’s a new one,” Renke said. “Guess it shows how much money you have when you find diamond rings in the carpet. If I found a ring in my carpet, it woulda come from a gum machine.”

Chapman leaned over to see it better. “I don’t know, doesn’t look like much of a diamond. You sure it’s real?”

With Renke and Chapman bored enough to take an interest in her ring, Lauren did a frantic mental search for any territory they hadn’t covered. Anything to keep the conversation off that ring. “So what happens if you identify this other agent?”

Chapman instantly lost interest in the ring in favor of protocol.

“With two positive suspects nailed down, we bring them in. If they’re still working as agents, they shouldn’t be too hard to locate.”

“What if they don’t talk?”

Chapman’s tight expression indicated how unfortunate a choice that would be.

“Then it just takes a little longer. We might be able to narrow the list by connecting them to the same official, like he said.” He jerked his thumb at Mihaly. “But from the beginning we’ve been checking out anyone who might have an interest in the outcome of the offshore drilling bill. It’s a long list.” He smiled grimly. “So I plan to make sure they talk.”

Mention of the bill reminded Lauren of the partisan battle in Congress that had caused the forced votes. Privately, Lauren wondered how much the president’s chief advisor on domestic affairs might care about the outcome of that bill. The woman’s comments at the
Romanian Embassy party had been particularly biting. Although jumping from a dislike of Meg to blackmailing United States senators seemed too much of a stretch to even mention to Chapman.

By the time Agent Chapman pulled out his car keys at ten thirty, they all responded like dogs eager to go along for a ride. Renke was the first to get shot down.

“You have to stay here with these guys.”

Renke frowned at his babysitting duties. “You can’t go out alone. Once you look like you’re investigating a decent lead, they’re gonna go for you.”

“I’ll go,” Mihaly volunteered quickly. “I have experience with this sort of… diplomacy.”

Chapman obviously knew what he meant, jingling his keys thoughtfully while considering it. But it was Drew his gaze finally settled on.

“Creighton can come. Seeing him might help jog the clerk’s memory. Besides,” he scowled at Lauren and Drew, “The last time I left you two alone with orders to stay put, you were gone within thirty minutes.”

“Fine,” Drew agreed. “But Lauren goes too. She stays with me.”

“Miss Sutherland stays here.” Chapman was equally firm. “She’s a target, and I’m not parading her around D.C. where someone can shoot at her again.”

Drew frowned, considering it. For a moment Lauren was touched by his obvious concern, until the implications of what Chapman had said hit her. With an anxious start, she jumped to her feet. “That means Drew’s a target, too.”

Her worried gaze met his. Through the shared danger of the past two days, she’d never considered the possibility of losing him.

Unspoken emotions churned inside her, stirring up feelings she’d tried to ignore. Feelings she shouldn’t have for a man intended to be nothing more than a casual fling.

“I won’t be nearly as much of a target without you.” Drew’s calm words cut through the turmoil inside her.

Chapman sneered. “Especially if you’re not bombing around town in a bright red convertible that practically shouts, ‘Look at me!’”

Lauren ignored him. Watching Drew, she bit her lower lip to keep from blurting out the words that tugged at her heart.

“Mihaly,” Drew began.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I will stay with Lauren.”

“So will I,” Renke muttered. “But I’m only an experienced Secret Service agent, so you might not find that reassuring.”

Gerald stood, hooking his arm through Lauren’s. “So will I. You just run along and play cops and robbers, Andrew. We’ll hold down the fort.”

A hint of a smile showed on Drew’s mouth. “Thanks.”

Chapman studiously ignored Gerald. “Let’s get going.”

Lauren watched him go without saying what she was thinking, hoping she’d get a chance to say it later.

Waiting was torture. Lauren couldn’t avoid the feeling that something big was about to happen, that they were on the verge
of finding the person behind the blackmail photos. And, consequently, on the verge of finding Meg and Senator Creighton. And she was stuck at home, waiting, while Drew got to act.

After half an hour of leafing through magazines, Lauren decided one more minute on the couch would drive her crazy. “How long do you think they’ll be?” she asked Renke.

“Don’t know. Maybe an hour and a half.”

“Fine. I’m taking a shower.”

The prospect of warm water and fragrant soap sounded like the best thing she’d done all day. The best thing she’d done, in fact, since yesterday morning when she woke up beside Drew in the hotel, snuggled against his naked body, which had been one of the best things she’d
ever
done.

Lauren stripped off her jeans and T-shirt, recalling Drew’s hands on her, touching her, teasing her, kissing her until she was dizzy with an emotion that felt suspiciously like love.

Lauren sucked in her breath at the thought. That wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t—

Gerald’s shriek carried up the stairs. Hastily wrapping a robe over her bra and panties, she ran downstairs.

Gerald stood in the living room, red-faced with anger, glaring at Renke’s back. Seeing Lauren he huffed, “These federal boys wave their substitute penises around at the slightest excuse, just to scare the citizens.”

She scrunched her brow. “Huh?”

“The gun,” Gerald sniffed.

Lauren followed his gaze to the front window and finally noticed the dull black Sig Sauer in Renke’s right hand as he peered around the curtains.

“Mr. Macho could have shot my head off the way he whipped that thing out. All because a car pulled into the driveway. Sheesh.”

“Quiet.” The order came from Mihaly, who peered out another window, gun in hand.

“He’s coming up the walk, fast,” Renke reported, as he switched to a two-handed grip, moving to stay out of view.

When the doorbell rang Lauren looked at him. Renke motioned at Gerald with his gun, stepping around to the foyer. “Get it.”

Casting a nervous look at Renke’s gun, Gerald eased past Renke to check the peep hole. He looked at Lauren in surprise. “It’s Senator Pierson.”

“Let him in,” she said.

“Just one damn minute!” Renke stomped forward, the gun held against his side, but his other arm pointing at Gerald. “Don’t touch that door. Miss Sutherland does not decide who comes in this house. I do.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” she said, pushing past him. “Senator Pierson knows about Meg and Harlan, and what’s more, he’s the only one who’s provided any help so far. We’re letting him in.”

Renke dropped his arm, his face blank with confusion. “The only one… ? Does anyone even wonder what the government pays me for?”

Lauren pushed past Renke, reaching Gerald just as he opened the door.

Pierson startled her, bolting inside, slightly dishelved and breathing hard. “Gerald! Where’s—” Seeing her, he started again without a pause. “Lauren! I just got a phone call—”

Pierson made a gargling sound as he spotted Renke,
gun drawn and aimed at him. He jumped back. “Jesus Christ! What’s going on here?”

Lauren pulled him all the way in as Gerald shut the door. “It’s okay, he’s a Secret Service agent.” To Renke she hissed, “Would you put the gun down? This man is a family friend.”

Renke didn’t obey and neither did Mihaly. Gesturing at Pierson with the gun, he barked, “Hands above your head.”

Pierson did as ordered, rolling alarmed eyes at both of them. The Romanian’s gun remained leveled at the Senator’s chest while Renke frisked him.

Renke stepped back. “He’s clean.” Lauren thought he almost sounded disappointed. The agent straightened, tucking his gun into a shoulder holster. Mihaly’s gun disappeared in a similar manner.

Pierson ran a hand through his slightly mussed, short hair, eyeing the two men with caution. “Gerald, is everything okay here?”

“Yes it is, sir,” Renke responded before Gerald could open his mouth. “Could you tell me why you’re here?”

“I was asked to deliver a message to Drew Creighton.” He turned to Lauren. “And you.”

Prickles of fear ran up her arms. “Drew’s not here, but he’ll be back soon. Who is the message from?”