Seduced by the Enemy (Blaze, 41) (8 page)

Peyton had no intention of repeating history. Not only did she need to regain control of her life, she desperately needed to get a grip on reality. And her reality was Leland and the calm, sedate, predictable life they would lead together. She needed to speak to him. Once she did, she'd be able to shed all these ridiculous notions that were making her doubt her choices. The right choices.

Hearing Leland's voice would reassure and calm her. Once she spoke to him, she'd be able to put everything back into proper perspective. She was only reacting to the intense emotional stress of everything going on around her, colored and confused by her past with Jared, spurred by his abrupt reappearance in her life.

With that thought firmly planted in her mind, she shifted on the seat to face Jared, more to relieve the ache in her bottom from hours of sitting than anything else. “I need to get out of this car,” she told him firmly. “Find me a motel room. A rest stop. Some
thing. If I don't move around soon, I'll go nuts.” She didn't bother to mention she'd already managed to convince herself she'd had to a visit to Crazy.

Next stop, Lunacy.

He glanced quickly in her direction, then returned his attention to the interstate. “Do you want to drive for a while? We've got at least another twelve hours until we reach Maine.”

“No,” she stated emphatically. “I want to see what's on the news, or at least check out the newspapers. They've had almost eight hours to come up with more lies, and I want—no, I
need
to see for myself what's happening.”

What she really needed was to feel as if she had some sort of control. The helplessness and inactivity were getting to her. She didn't bother to mention she planned to call Leland using her cell phone. She had no idea where to find him, but she could at least leave a message on his answering machine, letting him know she was okay and telling him not to believe whatever he might read in the papers or see on television.

Jared glanced her way again and graced her with one of those smiles that had her heart pounding a little bit faster. Just as he'd always done. “Anything else?”

She had a list for him. Stop smiling at her, which only added to her confusion. Stop looking at her as if he could read her every thought, especially the wicked ones. And dammit, stop taking center stage in her fantasies. He'd been fired from that position a long time ago and there were no openings.

“Yes, as a mater of fact. A hot shower, Chinese takeout, with my very own carton of fried rice that I
refuse to share, and sole possession of the remote control.”

“The rice I'll give you. But the remote and hot shower will have to wait until we get to the cottage, sweetheart.”

So much for her firm, no-nonsense talking to, she thought. One sexy grin with an endearment tossed in for good measure and her lips were twitching as she tried, and failed, to hold back a smile of her own. “Considering what you've put me through so far, I'd say you're getting off easy, G-man.”

As they neared the final tollbooth that would take them into Pittsburgh, his expression sobered. Too late, she realized what she'd called him.

“I'm sorry, Jared,” she said, feeling a stab of guilt at the reference to his former profession. The profession that had been stolen from him? she wondered.

He shrugged and slowed the vehicle behind the line of cars ahead of them. “Don't sweat it.”

“Do you miss it?” she asked him. Of course he did, she thought. What a stupid question. Jared had been one of the lucky ones who truly loved his job and all that came with it—crappy assignments, dangerous encounters, everything.

Fidelity. Bravery. Integrity.

The bureau's motto was as much a part of him as her own oath to uphold the law was to her.

Oh, my God.
The magnitude of her realization struck her hard. Jared could no more be guilty of the crimes they were accused of committing than she was. He'd lived and breathed his job as an agent, been one of the best. She knew him better than most people, understood his beliefs and his prejudices.

Granted, she didn't know many of the details other than what she'd been shown by the agents who'd convinced her she had no choice but to help them bring Jared into custody, but once they were settled at the cottage in Maine, they'd be able to spend time and go over every aspect of the case. She had questions, lots of them, but if she'd learned anything from her years with the Justice Department, it was how to build a rock-solid case. More importantly, she knew how to weaken a defense. All she had to do was find a hole in the evidence, something as small as a vague inequity, and maybe they'd find a way out of this nightmare.

“How would you feel if you suddenly couldn't practice law?” he asked her.

If things didn't improve, and quickly, she suspected she just might end up with firsthand knowledge. “Lost,” she answered truthfully. “Like I no longer had a purpose in life.”

He eased forward in the line. “Then you have your answer, don't you?”

Yes, she did, and while the bitterness of her betrayal still stung, it only compounded the guilt nudging her because she'd doubted his innocence. It would be her cross to bear, she realized, but at least she had the power to do her part in rectifying the situation. She had paltry control, but a semblance of it was better than floating around in a void with nothing but a sense of helplessness.

She hoped.

“For the sake of argument, let's assume we can clear our names. What happens then, Jared? Do you go back to the bureau and pick up where you left off?
Would you even want to be associated with an organization that's done this to you?”

“You wouldn't think so, but yes, I would.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel for a moment. “It's not the bureau that's bad, Peyton. There's someone high in the ranks using it for his own ends. Senator Phipps has someone on the inside deep in his pocket. It's my guess he's the one pulling all, or most, of the strings.”

She would have once thought such a statement ludicrous, but after what she'd seen, heard and experienced for herself, she'd lost the luxury of naiveté.

The connection to the senator made perfect sense, she realized. Since Jared never talked about his job, she had no idea he'd been investigating Phipps.

“Do you have something more than just circumstantial evidence?” she asked.

“Just a hunch.”

She knew him better than that. Besides, people on the lam couldn't afford hunches. That had to be damned certain.

Erring on the side of caution, she decided to wait until they passed through the tollbooth before contradicting him. At each manned booth they'd passed, so far, nothing out of the ordinary had halted their progress, which she took as a good sign. Still, she half expected the cops to come racing after them every time, but the attendants didn't so much as even look at them directly.

Jared pulled up to the booth, rolled down the window and extended the cash toward the attendant.

“I need to see some ID.”

Peyton's heart stopped at the attendant's surly de
mand. This was it. The jig was up. Any second now they would be surrounded by federal agents.

Cool as cotton, Jared reached behind him and pulled his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. “Is there a problem?”

The short, stout man nodded. “Oh, yeah, there's a problem all right. With all this stepped-up security, we're supposed to do random ID checks. Customers are complaining left and right. Like it's my fault.”

“I hear you,” Jared said, handing over an Ohio driver's license. “Bureaucracy's a bitch.”

The attendant chuckled. “Ain't that the truth? So where you headed?”

“Pittsburgh,” Jared lied smoothly.

Peyton held her breath as the guard looked closely at the fake ID, then back at Jared.

After what felt like an eternity, he handed Jared the license and took the fee for the toll. “Enjoy your stay,” the attendant said, before waving them through.

Not until they were past the tollbooth and were heading toward the exit ramp did Peyton begin to relax, as much as was possible given the circumstances.

“That was close,” she said. “Too close.”

“It was bound to happen sooner or later,” Jared answered. “We've been lucky so far.”

“Yes, well, let's just continue to hope our luck holds, because I don't think I could take another one of those random checks.”

Jared glanced quickly in her direction. “What were we talking about?”

She wasn't fooled by his blatant attempt to steer the conversation away from the scare she'd just received.
And like a gullible child, she snapped up the opportunity to change the subject.

“I was about to tell you that I have a hunch, too, and it says you're not being completely honest with me.”

“You're right.” He kept his attention on the roadway. “There's still a lot you don't know.”

Based on their history, a part of her understood his reluctance to share information with her. Like it or not, though, they were in this together. “Then it's time you tell me, Jared. You can't keep me in the dark forever.”

He steered the Expedition toward an off-ramp for Boulevard of the Allies before glancing her way again. His eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “I think we'd both be better off if you trusted me and let me do this my way.”

She let out a deep breath slowly. There was only one way she knew of that would allow her to formulate at least a semblance of control—face her troubles with her eyes wide open. “You're going to need my help,” she said. “I'm going to need to know everything you know, and as much of what they know, as possible. We can't fight if you keep me in the dark.”

He didn't answer, but he didn't object, either, as he made a right on Jumonville Street. For once his silence gave her a small shred of hope.

A lot of baggage existed between them. Whether or not, with everything else going on around them, they'd have the energy to wade through the past, she couldn't say. She certainly had no burning desire to venture back into territory filled with heartache, be
trayal and a loss so deep she'd carry it with her for the rest of her life. Still, she knew that until they did take that journey—together—trust could never fully exist.

And without it, they were as good as dead.

 

T
HE LADIES' ROOM
of the minimart in downtown Pittsburgh was a far cry from even the low-cost motel room they'd stayed in the other night, but Peyton was still grateful for the stolen moments of privacy so she could take care of a few pressing matters.

She dried her hands on the scratchy paper towels provided, double-checked the lock on the heavy metal door and dug her cell phone out of her purse. If she was lucky, she had at least ten minutes before Jared returned from the all-night Chinese restaurant across the street, which would give her just enough time to place a call to Kellie and one to Leland.

She understood she was taking a huge risk, since she had no idea if anyone would be monitoring Kellie's and Leland's telephones. But by using her cell phone, the worst she would do was give those looking for them a generalized location. She took comfort in the fact that in a city the size of Pittsburgh, where cell phone users easily numbered in the tens of thousands, if not more, tracking her and Jared could take hours. Precious hours, in which they'd be long gone before anyone had the opportunity to narrow the search to as much as a one-mile radius.

At the very least, she had to reach Kellie to let her know she wouldn't be in the office Monday morning and that someone else had to handle the Howell motion. If the prosecution was a no-show at the hearing,
defense's motion would be granted and Howell would walk. Chances were pretty good that Kellie had already heard the news, but Peyton couldn't operate under the assumption that her assistant had seen the news report and automatically assume she'd gone on the run with Jared.

She turned on the cell phone and luckily had a connection, so she dialed Kellie's home number. Her hands trembled and her heart pounded. She hoped Kellie was back from her weekend visit with her family, but when the answering machine picked up on the second ring, that hope was dashed.

Peyton hesitated for a moment, not knowing quite what to say. She couldn't stay on the line for more than a minute in case
they
already had a wiretap on Kellie's line.

“Kel, it's me. You need to find someone to fill in on Howell Monday morning. I can't explain right now, but I'm all right.” She paused. “Don't believe everything you hear, okay? I'll try to be in touch later, but no promises.”

She disconnected the call and dropped her head against the cool ceramic-tiled wall of the public rest room, willing her hands to stop shaking. Dammit, she shouldn't have called. What if she put Kellie's life in danger? She'd never forgive herself if anything happened to her best friend.

Maybe she shouldn't risk a call to Leland. When he returned from his judges conference tomorrow night, if he couldn't reach her, he might try Kellie. But did she really want to leave that to chance? He was her fiancé, after all. Didn't he deserve to hear directly from her that she was at least relatively safe, under
the circumstances? And what about her need to simply hear his voice? To hear the smooth, rich tones that would calm her and let her put everything into its proper perspective?

She checked her watch. Time was running out. Jared would be returning any minute now with their evening meal. The last thing she wanted was to be caught using her cell phone.

She straightened and quickly dialed Leland's number. As she suspected, his answering machine picked up the call, and within seconds she heard his deep voice. A voice she'd hoped would soothe her, but failed miserably.

“Leland, it's me. I can't explain what's going on, but I want you to know I'm safe. For now.”