Broken Honor (44 page)

“Please,” he said. “I'll get back to you as soon as possible. And you, my love, need to see whether your tenure hearing has been postponed. If not, Sam will drive you back to Memphis and stay with you. No one knows him.”

“If you think someone's coming to the house, I want to be there.”

“No.” His rejection was absolute, and he saw that she recognized that.

She didn't say anything, but merely toyed with the rest of her food.

When they left the restaurant, she reluctantly turned toward Sam's car. Irish's hand caught hers, and he pulled her to him. He leaned down, and his lips touched hers. His fingers caught in her curls. “I'll miss you,” he whispered. “But this shouldn't take long. It's our best chance at catching them actually doing something.”

She looked at him, and her heart was in her eyes. His own thudded. Was he right? Would she be safer with Sam?

No one knew about Sam. No one knew his car.

She had to be safe.
He loved her
. It was the first time he'd admitted it to himself. He didn't know what in the hell he would do about it. Could do about it. Their lives still didn't mesh. Couldn't mesh. Still.…

His lips moved back to hers, and the kiss deepened. Desperation was in it. Love. Fear for her. Her fear for him. For a moment, he felt he was drowning in their combined need. His body coiled like a tight spring as he struggled for restraint. The fire that was always between them crackled and flamed.

It took every ounce of his control to step away.

“We'll talk when this is over,” he said.

Tears glistened in her eyes. That hurt more than anything.

“I don't want to lose you now,” she whispered.

“You won't,” he said. His hand took hers. He lifted it to his lips in a gesture that was new to him. It was a salute.

Then he turned away and didn't look back until he heard the purr of Sam's car fade away.

Amy asked Sam, her new bodyguard, to get her a soft drink. Really, she didn't need it but she did need a few moments of privacy, and she didn't know how to tell him that without hurting his feelings.

Once the door was closed, she opened her laptop computer and checked her E-mail. A message from Sherry. She'd convinced the tenure committee that Amy had a family emergency, and the hearing had been postponed until Monday. It could not be postponed any longer because the department head planned to leave for Europe for the summer.

Amy sat still for a moment, then realized she'd been holding her breath as she read the message. “Yes!” she said. Then quickly wrote to Sherry, “
Great job. Will be there. I owe you a dinner, no, a week of dinners. A year of dinners
.”

She continued to read her E-mail. Some spam messages. One from a graduate who wanted to tell her he'd won a professorship he wanted. Her heart lightened at that.

Then an E-mail address she didn't immediately recognize. Its heading, though, was “Urgent.”

She opened it. “Found information you wanted. I'll be at Dustin's house in Georgetown. Need to see you as soon as possible.” It was simply signed, “Sally.”

Amy typed her own message. “Coming.” Then, “Address?”

If she couldn't help Irish, perhaps she could retrieve the information they needed.

All she had to do was convince Sam.

But she knew she couldn't. He wouldn't leave without Irish's okay, and Irish, she suspected, would not be amenable.

Dustin's house would be safe. He obviously thought so, if Sally Eachan was there. There would be protection. He was the one of the four who had not been touched. She would be careful. And Irish was making sure the bad guys would be after him. He was waiting for them.

If Sally Eachan had really found something, they could get the attention of federal authorities.

But how to get rid of Sam?

He entered then, a six-pack of soft drinks in hand and a container of ice. She turned on the television, trying to get CNN, but there were only a few local stations. Sam sprawled on a chair next to her.

They would have to go for supper before long. She'd never committed car theft before, but she was seriously considering it now.

Someone had been in Dustin's bay house. Whoever it was had been very careful, but the slight aroma of aftershave hovered in the room.

Irish and Tag looked at each other.

Tag didn't say anything but went immediately to the cameras. The film in two was in place, but a quick look showed it had been exposed. Apparently the intruder hoped no one would check that. Two others, one in a chandelier, the other in a cavity hollowed out in a thick frame of a painting, appeared untouched. Both had film that should have been exposed when the sensors detected movement.

“They're good,” Tag said. “Not good enough. He—they—evidently didn't have any film for replacements.”

“Let's see the film before we conclude that,” Irish said wryly.

Mike checked the windows. All but one were locked. The one that was unlocked was shielded by bushes.

They exchanged glances before continuing. Mike checked the house for strange smells, objects that shouldn't be there, such as bombs or accelerant. He also used Sentry, a detection device, to spot any new listening devices.

They ate some sandwiches Mike had bought earlier. Tag took a stroll around the neighborhood. No strange cars, but that didn't mean much. When it grew dark, they went to the vacant house next door, leaving several lights on upstairs and a makeshift silhouette form in the window of Eachan's home.

In the neighbor's darkened house, the three took positions that could not be seen from the road.

They waited.

W
ASHINGTON
, D.C.

Dustin received Sally's message as he cooled his heels in the Executive Offices. War had broken out in one of the African countries he oversaw, and its president had been captured. There was no way he could leave now. It wasn't only his job he worried about. It was the situation. The African leader could well be killed if diplomacy didn't free him. Renewed civil war would create another orgy of mass murder.

He didn't want to call his home. After Flaherty's call, he'd had a professional check his phones. The expert had found—and removed—a listening device, but still …

Yet now he had no choice. Sally had given him none. She didn't answer the cell phone he'd insisted she keep.

He called his home. When his message center came on, he said, “Sally, if you're there, answer.”

He hung on for several seconds and then heard her voice.

“Why in the hell are you here? You're supposed to be at.…” He stopped suddenly, knowing how much she hadn't wanted her mother involved.

“Something happened that I have to talk to you about,” she said. “Several somethings, in fact.”

Dustin considered asking her to leave there immediately. But where would she go? What if she were followed? “You've locked everything and put on the security system?”

“Yes.”

“I'll ask a friend to get someone over there,” he said. “But don't let anyone in the house. If someone shows up at the door with credentials, make them identify themselves by asking them for a word we agree on.”

“You think that someone with credentials might be.…”

“Credentials can be faked, and you wouldn't know the difference. Think of something.”

“Remember when I was sixteen, and you asked me what I wanted for my birthday.”

Dustin paused. He remembered only too well. “I don't think that will work. What about the color you hate most.”

He heard her laugh. It was relaxed. What did she want to tell him?

“All right,” she agreed. “But I like mine better.”

He grinned at that. He did, too. What she'd wanted was a kiss. A kiss that had turned into something more altogether. “Go, now, and make sure the house is secure.”

He hung up and called his friend at the FBI. “I've had a threat. Can you send someone over to my house? My cousin is staying there. I want to make sure she's safe.”

“You know a request needs to go through channels.”

“This is an emergency. If anything happens to my cousin, I'll have your job.”

“Dammit, Dustin. You have no idea how to make friends. Does this have anything to do with the photos you sent me?”

“It could.”

“Would you like to explain that?”

“Yes. Probably. But not now. I'm waiting to meet with the President.”

“I'm impressed.”

“Don't be. I'm one of many.”

A sigh. “I'll send someone out there tonight.”

“Now.”

Another sigh. “All right.”

“Tell him—or her—to identify themselves to my cousin. A word.”

“Something exotic, I suppose.”

“Purple.”

“Purple?”

“Just get someone over there. I'm being called.”

He turned off his phone as he saw someone gesturing for him. He straightened his tie, made an effort not to smooth his hair, and followed the escort. For the first time, he felt no thrill at the prospect of being in the presence of the President. He just wanted to be home with Sally. He wanted to make sure she was safe. But Damon would see to that.

Home with Sally
.

He erased the idea from his mind and, instead cataloged the options he had to offer the President.

M
ARYLAND

Amy suggested to Sam that they go somewhere for dinner. She'd planned to leave her purse in the car when she went inside the restaurant, then ask for his keys to retrieve it. She would then take the car.

She'd thought about it, but when they arrived at the restaurant, she couldn't do it.

It wasn't lack of will, it was too much conscience. She'd never used subterfuge. She wasn't going to do it now.

Instead, once they were in the car, she asked Sam if he could contact Irish.

“Not unless there's an emergency.”

“There's an emergency.”

Sam looked at her for a long moment. “Yes ma'am,” he said.

Although she was worried about Sally and the others, she felt a warm glow inside. This man, this dangerous man who had a heart of gold, respected her. Maybe even more, if she was right about the gleam in his eyes. For someone who'd never really enjoyed male attention, she was bemused by the situation. Had she changed that much in the past few weeks that she could attract a man like Irish? And Sam?

How could she go back to an ordinary life?

Sam was dialing a number. He handed the phone to her.

“Irish?” The sound of his name came very easily now.

“Amy? Anything wrong?”

She delayed a moment. “Anything happening there?”

“No. But someone's been in the house. We're waiting.”

“Can they wait alone?”

“Why?” His voice sharpened.

“Sally E-mailed me. She's at Dustin's. I think she may be alone. She says she has something we need. I think Sam and I should go.”

Hesitation on the other side. A muttered conversation she couldn't hear.

“I'll go with you,” Irish said. “Sam can take my place here.”

Amy was suddenly very grateful to her conscience. Her throat was too tight to reply.

“Amy?”

“I'm here. Where should we meet you?”

He hesitated, and she could almost see him with that frowning twist of his lips as he considered the problem. “I'll be at the motel in forty minutes. It'll take about two hours to get to Washington.”

“I'll call Sally.”

“No. There might be a tap on the phone.”

“Surely Dustin would have had it swept.”

“How recently?” It was a rhetorical question.

She had no answer.

“I'll be there soon,” he said. The phone went dead.

W
ASHINGTON
, D.C.

Sally tucked her legs underneath her. Dustin's phone was next to her on the sofa. She had all the lights on in the den, the curtains drawn against the blackness outside. Dustin had called to make sure someone from the FBI had arrived, and they had. Several hours earlier. She had invited him in, but he'd preferred to wait outside in the car.

The alarm system was on. Hopefully, Amy Mallory would be here soon. Then Dustin. Hopefully, the nightmare would be over. But for the moment, she felt safe.

She mulled over what she wanted to tell Dustin. How would he accept the information secreted in the painting? She knew how much the family name meant to him. Should she show it to him before confiding in Amy?

She checked the clock once more. Near eleven. Where was Amy? Dustin, she knew, could be gone all night.

She stood, went to the front window, and looked out. She loved Dustin's house and the picturesque street it fronted. The FBI car was in front. In the light from the porch, she could see the figure in the front seat. Perhaps he would like some coffee. And making coffee would give her something useful to do.

She padded out to the kitchen.

M
ARYLAND

Sam and Mike heard the cars approaching at the same time.

It was as if the last twenty years had never happened. Each knew exactly what the other would do without words.

They wanted the opposition to get inside Dustin's house. Once there, they would become burglars. Irish wanted a hold over the prowlers. He also wanted them alive. He wanted names.

Tag was already outside, watching from across the street. His job was to take anyone waiting or standing watch for the intruders.

Mike watched from the window as a car drove up. He waited a few moments, then pressed a button that turned off the upstairs lights of the Eachan home. All the lights were off now.

They expected the intruders to wait as long as an hour or so.

Wearing night vision glasses, Mike watched from the darkened front window. Sam went to the back, where he had a view of the back of Eachan's house. They did not want to be surprised.