Body of Evidence (Evidence Series) (43 page)

A knock on the door interrupted him. “Mr. Dominick, Ms. Garrett,” the guard said, “the secretary of state is here to see you.”

C
HAPTER
F
ORTY-FOUR

C
URT FACED
M
ARA
with wide, shocked eyes. “How did he find you?”

“I called him,” Mara said. Her heart began to pound, and she didn’t know why. “He finally called me back about ten minutes before you got here. I gave him this address so he could come over tomorrow and interview me. Why would he be here now?” But she didn’t need to ask that question; understanding came crashing down before the words left her mouth.

Adrenaline flooded her system. Through the door she heard the secretary demand entrance, but the guard refused him.

Curt scooped up her clothes and dropped them on her lap. “Play along,” he whispered. “Act normal. Raptor won’t strike while he’s here, but when he leaves, I’m getting you out of here.”

She pulled on her underwear as Curt grabbed his shirt and slipped it over his head. He crossed the room to the door. “Give us a minute,” he yelled.

“Mr. Dominick,” the secretary said through the door, “I don’t have time—”

“She’s naked,” Curt said, cutting him off.

Mara laughed in spite of the churning in her belly. She still didn’t understand how the secretary could be involved. Jesus, she’d really screwed up.

“We need more evidence against him for an indictment,” Curt whispered. “If he believes I’m here just to get in your pants, he might feel complacent and make mistakes.”

She fastened the slacks and adjusted the blouse. Curt stood in front of her and gripped her shoulders. “You ready?” he asked.

She nodded.

He kissed her, a firm, openmouthed kiss that restored her confidence. He leaned his forehead against hers and whispered, “I love you,” then shouted toward the door, “Come in.”

His mouth was on hers when the door slammed into the wall. “Of all the stupid, unprofessional—” the secretary blustered. “Jesus, Dominick. You’ve not only destroyed your shot at attorney general, you’ll be lucky if you aren’t disbarred.”

In a remarkable display of indifference to the man’s predictions, Curt’s lips remained on hers throughout the tirade.

He lifted his head and smiled at her, his hazel eyes bright with emotion; then he flipped an internal switch and faced the secretary in full shark mode. “The trial is over, Mr. Secretary. I’m free to pursue a relationship with Ms. Garrett.”

The elder man paused, and Mara studied him. He’d aged since she met him last—at least three years ago, when he’d still been in the senate. His stately gray hair had fewer streaks of brown now, and the world map of wrinkles around his eyes had deepened.

“So the news was accurate? Stevens pled guilty?” he asked, scanning Curt.

Curt threaded his fingers through hers and squeezed. “Yes.”

“Did he implicate Raptor?”

Curt raised an eyebrow. “I’m not at liberty to divulge anything until the indictments come down.”

The man stepped farther into the room. “If he did, Stevens’s word won’t be good enough. He’ll say anything to get a reduction in sentence.”

Mara bristled. She knew the penalty for arms trafficking with foreign agents was five to ten years, and according to Curt, that was what he would receive. Her uncle had received no concession for naming names.

“Mr. Secretary,” Curt asked. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to check on Ms. Garrett before I have her moved.”

Curt stiffened. “Why do you think you’re moving her?”

The man approached the sofa, saw the pile of blankets and pillows before the hearth, and shook his head in disappointment, then sat on the edge of the seat, as though fearing sex cooties.

Mara snickered.

“She asked for my help. I’m helping her. She said she didn’t want to be under your control.” The man flicked a cold glare at Curt. “I could assume her opinion has changed, but before I believe that, I’m going to insist on speaking with her alone.”

Curt’s grip on her fingers tightened. “No.”

She squeezed back. “It’s okay. He’s right. I did say I didn’t want to be under your control. I was”—she grinned sheepishly—“upset.”

With a guard outside the door, it had to be safe to speak alone with a man who desperately wanted to avoid being implicated. “Why don’t you wait outside?” she said to Curt.

Curt’s stare was short but meaningful; then he leaned down and kissed her. “You’ve got one minute.” He stepped into the vestibule, leaving her alone with the man who was fourth in line for the presidency and who was probably up to his eyeballs in dirty deals with Robert Beck.

T
HE GUARD GREETED
Curt with a smirk. “Impressive, Mr. Dominick.”

Curt grimaced. “She’s not a conquest. I’m nuts about her.”

The bald, hulking agent grinned. “Hell, we all figured that from the insane security you set up for her.”

“Which is compromised now. We need to leave.”

The man’s brow furrowed. “You don’t think the secretary—”

Curt gave a short nod. “We need to leave. Now. You have a car?”

The man nodded. “In the garage.”

“Get it. We’ll meet you out front.”

The man snatched keys from his desk and darted out the door. Curt plucked out his cell and hit the button to dial Lee. He had no choice but to bring Mara to Lee’s place while he arranged for a new safe house. As he waited for Lee to answer, he pivoted and returned to the living room.

“We’re not done talking, Mr. Dominick,” the secretary said with a glare.

Lee answered as Curt said, “I don’t care. I’m feeling uneasy. Mara, we’re leaving.” Into the phone he said, “Got that?”

Lee answered, “What’s going on?”

Mara nodded and bent down to retrieve her shoes. An engine revved behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder to see if the agent had extracted the car from the garage that quickly. Bright, blinding lights cut through the vestibule window and shone through the open door.

Curt jammed the phone into his pocket and lunged for Mara. He gripped her arm and shoved her ahead of him. The engine roared as they dove for the bedroom door on the far side of the room.

Behind them, the vestibule crashed inward, and a backward glimpse revealed a truck. Beaming headlights canted upward as the vehicle came to a stop half in the vestibule, half on the front steps. Then the room exploded in a flash of orange.

C
HAPTER
F
ORTY-FIVE

B
LINDED BY SMOKE
and deafened by the explosion, Curt covered Mara as best he could as debris rained upon him. He placed his mouth next to Mara’s ear and shouted, “You okay?” but could barely hear his own words above the ringing in his ears.

He felt her nod, and again shouted. “The bedroom! We can get out that way.” He rose to his knees, uncovering her.

He nudged her forward, but she shook her head. Her muted yell barely penetrated. “The secretary! Where is he?”

Curt didn’t give a damn about the man, but it was clear Mara wouldn’t budge until they’d located the undeserving bastard. He’d been a few feet to the right of Curt before the blast, so he groped in that direction and quickly found him. A heavy object had landed on top of the man, who was conscious and struggling. Curt guided Mara to grab one of the secretary’s wrists and together they tugged him out from under the debris and into the closest bedroom.

The doorframe was skewed, making it impossible to close and block the roiling black smoke from entering the room, but still, visibility was better and the smoke wasn’t yet thick.

A quick perusal showed Mara was scraped and likely bruised, but otherwise unharmed. The secretary was a different story. A large shard of wood protruded from the man’s back. Curt had no idea how deep it penetrated, but unless they got out of here fast, the man wasn’t likely to survive.

Curt bent down beside him. With his mouth next to the secretary’s ear, he shouted, “You stupid fuck. They betrayed you.”

The secretary wheezed and grabbed Curt’s shirt, pulling him down to speak into his ear. Curt could just make out his words. “Raptor. They weren’t…supposed…while I’m…here…”

“Mercenaries aren’t big on loyalty,” Curt said.

“Robert Beck…he gave the orders…every time.”

“I need you to live so you can say that under oath.”

“I won’t.”

He wouldn’t live, or wouldn’t testify? Curt didn’t have time to argue either way. The house vibrated, and he felt a shift. Had the ceiling over the living room collapsed?

A noxious wave of smoke poured into the room. They had to get out of here before the whole structure went down. He leaned into Mara and shouted, “The window!”

She shook her head. “It’s barred.”

“Shit.”

“This way!” She tugged his arm and led the way to an attached bathroom. The air was clearer in the small room, and he could see the window she pointed to. “It’s so small, it wasn’t barred!”

The window, located high on the wall in the toilet alcove, was tiny. Only a pixie like her could fit through. He climbed on the seat and wrenched up the pane. Fresh sweet air wafted in, and he sucked in a deep breath, then pulled Mara up beside him. “I’ll lift you.”

He boosted her so she could slide through feetfirst. In seconds, she was outside, gripping the edge before she realized his predicament. “Curt. How will you—”

His hearing had improved slightly, and he hoped hers had too. “I love you!” he shouted. The noxious smoke was filling the bathroom. “Go!”

“No, Curt!” She gripped the edge and boosted herself back into the window. “I won’t leave you.”

A coughing spasm overtook him. Unable to speak, he shoved her back through the window. She fought him. He lifted her fingers from the sill and let go.

He couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe. He stepped to the top of the tank and poked his head out the window. He took a deep breath of the cool night air. He rubbed his eyes to try to clear his vision of the black, burning smoke and saw Mara was gone.

S
HE HAD TO GET
Curt out of the house. She groped around the shattered structure, wiping her eyes, which burned and ached. Her hearing was returning in slow degrees. She rounded to the front yard and caught her breath.