Rogue Threat (41 page)

While completely irrational, it was enough to get herself under control. She still had not moved since noticing the sofa was empty. She tried moving one leg, then another toward the foyer. It was working. She was moving. She was going to make it.

“I thought you’d left,” Hellerman said from the dark recesses of the foyer, his face half-lit by a splash of sunlight cutting through the dining room window.

“I just changed,” she whispered.

“Why are you whispering?” he asked, stone-faced.

“Sorry,” she said louder. “When I left you were asleep and I guess I was in my ‘be quiet’ mode.”

“Where were you?”

“I went into the kitchen and changed, honey. Didn’t want to wake you. You were such an animal today, thought you’d need to rest up for tomorrow,” she said, sounding better and proud of herself.

He seemed to consider that and then said, “I went into the kitchen and got some water, then took a leak in the hall bath. I didn’t see you.”

She swallowed hard.

“Well, I was there getting dressed and have to head back now, honey, so why don’t we just drop the inquisition here and be grateful we both had some of the greatest sex in our young lives,” Meredith said, moving toward the door.

“What’s in the bag?” he said, moving forward.

“My coat. These clothes I’m wearing used to be in there. Remember, I showed up naked and we screwed our brains out?”

“Don’t talk to me like that,” he spat.

“Then quit treating me like this. You screw me until you drop, and then I’m quiet and respectful of your need for sleep, and you are giving me the third degree.”

“I just didn’t see you.”

“Well, I saw you, thought you might be sleepwalking,” she chuckled and immediately knew she had said the wrong thing.

“Why are you lying to me, Meredith? What’s in the bag?” He moved closer. He was only five feet away now.

She held her key ring in her hand.

“Go to hell. You treat me like garbage and now accuse me of coming in here and stealing something?” she asked incredulously.

Hellerman lunged toward her, hands outstretched in anger. She lifted her keys and gave a long squirt of mace directly into his face, causing him to double over and scream.

She grabbed the door, darted through the entrance, forearming the storm door. As she raced down the steps, she heard the door smack back onto him.

Safely inside the car, she glanced at the front door and saw Hellerman glaring at her. She shook it off and drove slowly along the quarter-mile driveway, not wanting to alarm the Secret Service agents present.

She passed a black Lincoln Continental parked at the end of the driveway. She smiled and waved at Alvin Jessup. Jessup was no fool. He had known long ago what was going on between his boss and her. She turned east, as she always did, and could not stop the emotions escaping her as she accelerated.

She needed to talk to Matt right away. Pulling out her cell phone, she punched in his number and let the phone ring.

Then she started to cry.

Chapter 47

Northern Virginia

Jacob Olney would do just about anything for Meredith Morris. He had developed a crush on her the first day she stepped into the Pentagon two years earlier and found her way to his cubicle to sign up for a pass and a photo. He remembered how she had smiled at him, engaging him like he really mattered.

Even though it only took a minute to complete the form and then take the mug shot, she shook his hand and talked to him for what seemed like an hour, but was probably closer to ten minutes. She had asked about him, what he liked to do. He immediately launched into a nervous dissertation on his photography business and gave her his card. She had called a couple of times just to check up on him and had even stopped by once since she had been at the White House.

Jacob was a wiry, pimple-faced, thirty-year-old man with shaggy black hair. He knew she was out of his league, but he loved the way she made him feel. And even though they hadn’t chatted for several months, he was delighted to receive her phone call this late afternoon. He was even more than happy to oblige her unique request to meet her at his place for him to develop a roll of film.

Tonight, she was walking into his basement with him.

“This must be why they call it a dark room.” Meredith smiled nervously. They were standing in the room with only the eerie black light to see by.

“Right, it is a room, and it is dark, ergo a dark room.” Jacob’s voice was squeaky, as if puberty were just around the corner. She was ready to laugh, thinking it might be a joke, but she could tell he was serious. He was focused as he pressed the film into the solution in the pan.

“How has your business been lately, Jacob?” She was wearing the same clothes she had on when she left Hellerman’s house and felt dirty.

“Great, Meredith. I’m making about eight hundred bucks a week on the side, lots of it tax free.” He looked at her seriously. “But don’t tell anybody.”

“You have my word,” she said, holding up her hands to emphasize the point.

“So why the big rush to get these developed?”

“They are for a project I’ve been working on, and I have a terrible deadline.”

“Got anything to do with all these terrorist bombings?”

Meredith paused.

“Sorry, sorry, I know I shouldn’t ask,” Jacob said. “But I was just kinda wondering, you know. They’ve hit everywhere but here. North Carolina, Washington, Georgia, Boston, even Minnesota, for crying out loud. Don’t you think they’d hit here, too?”

Meredith thought he sounded almost disappointed but knew it was just the way he framed his question.

“I doubt very seriously that they’re done,” she said.

“Really? You think they’ll strike again?”

She watched as he continued to push the film around and asked, “Why don’t you have one of those processors like they have at the one-hour places? Wouldn’t it help your business?”

“No way,” he said. “I would never let anything I take pass through one of those destruction machines. I’ve seen works of art destroyed because of a misfeed, and there’s no way to get it back. The picture, the moment, is lost forever.”

He looked at her solemnly and said, “And you know, that’s a long time.”

“Yes it is.” She nodded. Jacob was a bit odd, but right now she needed his help.

“It’ll be about thirty minutes if you want to go upstairs and have a soda or something,” he said.

“Sure, but do you have a computer I could borrow also? I’ve got my hard drive here and was curious if I could get at some information.” Meredith held up the hard drive, showing it to him.

Jacob looked at her, took the hard drive, and said, “Sure, I’ve got that capability, I think.”

“But let’s have that drink first.” Meredith playfully punched him on the shoulder.

She found Jacob cute in a nerdy sort of way. He was clearly smitten with her and proud to be showing off his work. She adored how nervous he seemed when he asked her upstairs for a Coke. Seeing how she had just slept with the vice president of the United States and then sprayed him with mace, she was having a hard time feeling anything but disgusted.

“Would you prefer some wine?” he said, his voice quivering again.

Meredith was also overcoming a champagne hangover but didn’t want to disappoint Jacob, so she agreed to a small glass of wine.

“Great,” Jacob said. “I’ll let you pick it out.”

She followed him out of the dark room, which led into the main portion of the basement. They walked directly across the basement into another small room, this one cooler and darker until Jacob turned on the lights.

Meredith gasped. There were at least two hundred bottles of wine sitting labels-up in a handmade oak wine rack that covered both walls from floor to ceiling. She saw that he had organized the wines, with whites such as Sauvignon blancs, Pinot grigios, Chardonnays, Chablis, and more on the right side. On the left were the reds—the Merlots, Pinot noirs, Cabernet Sauvignons, and so on.

“Jacob, I had no idea.”

“Yeah, most people just think I’m this little, geeky guy but . . .”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but she almost thought he was going to say, “But I’m really hung like a horse.” She chuckled. “This is fabulous.”

“Thank you. Take your pick.”

“Well, are you collecting, or do you drink it also?” She immediately knew this was a stupid question, one that brought him back to his point of everyone thinking he was a geek.

“I’m a connoisseur, Meredith. In addition to my photography, I like to travel to wine tastings all over the country and buy special wines. I’ve even cruised the Rhine during wine season and tasted all the different varieties from Frankfurt to Strasbourg.”

“That’s really something, Jacob,” she said, then pulled out a 1972 Pinot grigio from Vicenza, Italy. She looked at him and shrugged, “Is this okay?”

“Absolutely, an excellent choice. If you recall, in 1972 Italy experienced a winter with one of its heaviest snowfalls ever, and the vineyards were able to feed off the cool mountain waters trickling into the valley from the Alps for an extra month. The grapes are a perfect mixture of tart and dry, with a slight almond background that makes for the absolute best Pinot grigio I’ve ever tasted.”

They went upstairs and drank the wine. She had to admit that it was delicious. Before she knew it, they were back downstairs in the dark room, and the pictures were perfect, just like the wine.

“How can I ever repay you?” Meredith was pulling out her wallet as Jacob was holding up his hands, warding off her gesture.

“Please, this has been my pleasure, both to help you and to entertain you,” he said. “You owe me nothing other than, perhaps, another unexpected call in the future. That way it will give me something to look forward to every day until the next time.”

Meredith almost cried. Jacob was simple and sweet, but she had business to take care of, and she was ready to get to her house and review the pictures. Then it occurred to her that Hellerman would be sending the Secret Service after her, or something much worse, and the first place they would look would be her home.

On the other hand, they would never think to look here at Jacob’s place. She paused and then said, “You are so sweet, Jacob, and I do have one more favor.”

“Anything.”

“I’m working on a sensitive project.” She held up the manila envelope. “And there are some bad guys that are trying to find me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, well, I’m afraid if I go back to my place . . .” Saying the words made Meredith realize how much danger she was facing.

“Meredith, I insist. Stay here. And I have a garage, so you can park your car in there.”

That was a good point, she thought. She had not considered that Hellerman would be putting the full-court press on to find her, which would include the police looking for her car.

“Jacob, I don’t know what to say, but thank you.”

“I have a very nice guest room with clean sheets on the bed. You can have all the privacy you need to work on your project.”

She went out and drove the car into the garage, Jacob standing at the garage door watching with his hands stuffed in his pockets. She followed him in, through the kitchen this time, and down a long hallway.

“This is your room,” he said. “You have your own bath, and there are some clean towels.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Meredith said, truly at a loss for words.

“Don’t say anything. I know you’ve got work to do, so I’ll get out of your way. If you need anything, I’ll be in my room,” he said, pointing across the hall at his bedroom. “And in the meantime, I’ll see if I can’t get that hard drive squared away for you.”

“Thank you,” she said, giving Jacob a quick peck on the cheek. She turned and entered her room, closing and locking the door behind her. She quickly dumped the pictures out on the bed, turning on the lamp sitting atop the nightstand. She did a quick once-over of the room. It was decorated with a country theme, including rustic oak bookshelves and a sleigh bed. There was a tan oak bureau along the wall opposite the bed. The comforter on the bed had a pattern that included men with beards wearing top hats riding in buggies pulled by high-stepping horses.

She turned to the contents of the envelope, holding each picture up one at a time, squinting to read the writing, which was surprisingly legible. The first few were routine notes and indiscernible scribbling, almost like scraps of paper from doodling on the phone. Like the RW RW she had seen earlier. Who or what was RW? She could see Hellerman there plotting with his co-conspirators, them boring the hell out of him while he scribbled nonsense on the paper.

The next picture was of a message over secret cable from China. Her heart froze. Was there a connection between China, Ballantine, and the missing Predator drones? And then there was the Colombia connection with the aborted Tallahassee bombing.

The message read:
Must end all contact. Operation is ready. Glad to help an old friend. Must depart for passageway that connects our worlds.

The message was dated just before the bombings began. Had Hellerman enlisted the aid of international terrorists to attack inside the United States?

She tucked her hair behind her ears and flipped through the pictures. She stopped at a picture of the wall with the calendar. She confirmed again that Tallahassee was marked and had a large question mark next to it. Her memory had been good. She next saw the pictures she had taken of the communications gear. Hellerman had a tactical satellite phone and radios with cables that ran out the back of the office. He had a satellite television installed and guessed he was using that satellite to also feed his telephone.