Captive of Fate (20 page)

Henry Bauman, the head attorney for Thornton, smiled. “Your voice sounds an octave lower. Just don’t go hoarse on me up there today.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t. Senator, may I have a few minutes of your time? This is important.”

“Of course, anything for our star witness. Gentlemen, I’ll see you later.”

She remained standing, feeling lightheaded. It had to be from the tension, she thought. Thornton smiled warmly, motioning her to sit down.

“Have a seat, Alanna. Sorry you’re feeling under the weather. By tonight you’ll be a national celebrity. That will be quite a coup for you, my dear.”

She remained on her feet. “I’ve gone over that report you’ve given to the investigation committee, Senator, and I’ve noted several errors in the text,” she began as evenly as possible. A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed against it. “My report has been drastically changed, and I want to know why.”

“New information came to our attention after your initial report arrived, Alanna.”

“Then why wasn’t I put in charge of piecing it together?” she asked, her voice husky with restrained fury.

Thornton shrugged. “Look, you were on the road, and I decided to turn it over to Henry. He’s had extensive experience with this sort of project, and I felt he was the best one to make subsequent changes in light of the situation.”

A wave of dizziness swept over her, and she was forced to sit down, the briefcase resting tensely across her thighs. “That still doesn’t explain where the missing canister of film went.”

He gave her a perplexed glance. “There was only one, Alanna. I’ve told you before.” He suddenly laughed and came over, patting her gently on the shoulder. “My dear, you were thoroughly exhausted when you arrived from Costa Rica. And after reading your report, I can see why you might have been out of sorts upon your return. Don’t look so disappointed, it happens to the best of us.”

Her fingers tightened on the handle. “I don’t care what anyone says, Senator Thornton, there was a second roll of film. Somehow, it has gotten misplaced or—”

Thornton swung around, his eyes black and ominous. “I’ve waited too long for this moment, Alanna,” he purred silkily. “You’re an intelligent girl. Just read the report which has been prepared, and let Henry present the affidavits from the various Costa Rican officials.” He gripped her elbow, gingerly escorting her out of the office. “After all, my dear, you’ve just been promoted and given a very handsome raise. Stephen,” he called, motioning for the chauffeur to come forward, “please escort Alanna and Henry over to the Senate chambers.” He consulted his watch. “In thirty minutes the proceedings begin.” He smiled wolfishly at her, motioning for her to take the lead.

Once in the limo, Alanna took the opposite side of the seat from Bauman. Her heart pounded in her chest just before she spoke.

“Henry, I think you ought to know something.”

Bauman turned, studying her closely. “Yes?”

“I won’t go though with this. I think you know that. I won’t allow my report to be altered by lies and deceit.”

One eyebrow rose in reaction, and he managed a smile. “Weren’t the pay raise and promotion enough, Alanna?” he inquired softly.

“I’ve never accepted a bribe,” she hissed.

“How long have you been up here on the Hill? Goodness, I’d think you’d know by now the power and importance this position you’ve been given commands. You’ll have this city at your feet.”

She compressed her lips, glaring at him. “I won’t do it!”

“I think you will,” he began. “Do you realize that Colonel Breckenridge has told us about your little affair with him in Costa Rica, my dear?” He rubbed his palms together and gave her a smile of satisfaction. “Don’t look so surprised. When heat’s applied, you’d be surprised what people will do to save their own skins. Your dear colonel and his blessed attorneys will use that fact to try to discredit you. They’ll call you a woman scorned out for revenge. If you try to claim the report fraudulent, you’re going to get caught in the crossfire. Breckenridge has already declared you one of the enemy. You’d better stick with your friends.”

Alanna gasped, the full implication slamming into her. “I can’t believe Matt would do that,” she cried hoarsely. She gripped her briefcase. “He wouldn’t,” she protested. Bauman looked supremely confident, cool and collected as she searched his bland face for some hint that he was lying.

“My dear, we also know about Colonel Breckenridge and how Tim really died out there in Vietnam. So you see, the whole messy bucket of worms has been spilled. And if you think you’re going in there to call this report a fabrication, you’d better think twice.”

Alanna sat back, feeling faint. My God, how had it all happened? “How—”

“We told Colonel Breckenridge that you spilled the goods on Tim’s death,” Bauman added.

“I said nothing!”

“Who’s going to disprove it? The Marine advisers on Colonel Breckenridge’s case believe it. As I said, if you claim fraud, we’ll say that the report was amended to include later evidence. My dear, if you agree to go along with the report as I’ve edited it, I’ll make sure you’re properly defended so that your reputation and job are secure. It’s obvious the colonel has no feelings for you.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, the world spinning crazily around her. Did Matt believe she had told Senator Thornton? That would explain why he never tried to phone her before the hearing!

“And don’t forget the bank account under the good colonel’s name down in Costa Rica. We’ve got him,” Bauman growled. “Right where we want him.” He glanced over at her. “You look positively white, Alanna. I’d go powder my nose once we get to the chambers, and try to look a little less frightened. It won’t look good on television, you know….”

Her head was throbbing in pain when the crush of reporters and television cameras descended upon them the instant they left the safety of the limousine. Helplessly, Alanna was propelled along, Bauman at her arm. A sense of utter unreality chilled her as they swept into the large hearing chamber. She had no time to look toward the other block of seats and tables where she knew Matt must be sitting. Instead, Bauman deftly deposited her at the front table, which stretched like a crescent before the awesome tribunal of senators sitting above them. Two microphones were pushed at her, and Alanna pulled the chair closer. Bauman gave her a brief, cutting appraisal and then set about digging out an incredible array of affidavits, papers, and long, yellow legal pads.

Her heart was hammering wildly in her breast, and she remained frozen, staring up at the senators. Another chill ravaged her fevered body as she watched Thornton shake a few hands and seat himself as one of the investigating committee, a smug smile on his mouth.

Regardless of the pain it might cause her, Alanna lifted her chin and let her gaze sweep across the other half of the crowded room. Her breath lodged in her throat as she spotted Matt sitting at the front table surrounded by military officers. The memory of meeting him at the San Jose Airport exploded inside her head. It was the same Matt, incredibly handsome, eyes narrowed with concentration and mouth thinned with tightly leashed emotions. The dark green wool uniform he wore only strengthened the image of a warrior ready to do battle. The ribbons on the left breast of his uniform attested to his brilliant service career as well as to countless personal sacrifices. But Alanna looked beyond the impressive exterior and saw a man who once more was prepared to combat the dictates of fate with a stoic acceptance that she could not comprehend. The situation had nearly paralyzed her with conflicting emotions and uncertainty. Yet Matt looked serene and quietly confident in the face of it all. His strength awed her, left her despising herself for her own weakness. Matt’s courage was a beacon of hope. Gazing at him, she knew she must protect him, no matter what the cost to herself. She broke out in another cold sweat, her eyes widening as he lifted his head after conferring with an officer at his left. It was as if he were uncannily aware that she was watching him.

Their eyes met and locked. Alanna’s lips parted, and she wanted to scream and warn him that he was being framed by Thornton. His gaze was cool and unreadable as he assessed her. She felt heat rushing into her cheeks and tears blurred her vision. Perhaps it was her imagination or the raging fever that was clouding her mind, but Alanna thought she saw his gaze flicker with concern. Her heart wrenched in that split-second, and she tore her eyes away from him, unable to stand the pain that she saw in his expression. Alanna had expected hate and anger. Instead, she had sensed something quite different—something that left her confused and shaken. There had been no animosity in Matt’s eyes. He didn’t hate her! Wildly, she tried to name the emotion she had seen there. Empathy? Certainly not a look of pity. She clasped her perspiring hands in her lap, unable to make sense of the silent communication that had taken place in that one, brief glance.

Her head pounded with throbbing pain, and she was barely cognizant of the opening remarks from Senator Seale, who chaired the investigative committee. Once again, Matt was being crucified for something he had not done. Matt no longer loved her because he thought she had divulged his secret to the senator. And Jim Cauley was constantly at his side, feeding him more lies about her. Now, as never before, Alanna began to understand why Matt had hated politics and the power associated with it. Alanna clenched one fist, pressing it against her chest as a feeling of suffocation overwhelmed her. She was intent on steadying her breathing, trying to calm her hammering heart.

Then something came together deep within her, and Alanna felt a calmness spreading out to all parts of her hot, trembling body. She was ill, but that no longer mattered. A new determination came into being within her. This time, a voice howled within her head, they aren’t going to get to Matt. I won’t let them. I’ll tell the truth and force them to close down the investigation because of conflicting evidence.

She heard Bauman’s cultured baritone voice listing the evidence against Matt. Desperately, she closed her eyes, pushing back the feeling of disorientation. She must be able to present her own evidence coherently in order to neutralize Bauman’s convincing delivery. Futilely, Alanna realized that it would be her word against the senator’s. It would mean the loss of her job…her status on the Hill…. But that no longer mattered. She had lost Matt’s love, and each time she allowed that thought to hit her, she wanted to die. Morosely, she remembered Paul’s droning words: “This is reality, Alanna, dreams don’t come true.”

Tears blurred her vision, and she took a deep, unsteady breath. She had had a dream come true. Matt had loved her. And because of that, she was prepared to lay her entire career on the line for him.

The morning dragged by with Bauman and Sullivan trading the spotlight as they pieced together the story of the relief effort. Each affidavit, each piece of evidence was duly filed with the senatorial committee. At lunch, Bauman quickly propelled her through the encroaching mob of reporters and led her into an empty chamber across the hall and out another door to an awaiting limousine. Her legs felt wobbly, and she gratefully fell back into the deep, cushioned seat, closing her eyes.

“You look terrible, Alanna,” Bauman muttered. “Think you’ll make the firing line this afternoon?”

She nodded, compressing her dry lips. “I’ll make it if it’s the last thing I do. Don’t worry.”

“You know that not every senator on this investigative panel is after Breckenridge’s career. You’re going to get some heat from Seale and Forester because they’re confirmed hawks.”

She gave him a fleeting smile. “I’ll give it my best shot,” she promised. But what I have to say may surprise you, she added silently.

*

Her heart wrenched with renewed agony as she reentered the chamber and saw Matt standing in the center of the room conferring with a Marine general. Again, he halted his conversation, lifting his chin to study her, his gray eyes quickly scanning her features. Alanna tried to choke down the desire to run into his arms. Oh God, his arms…. She felt Bauman’s fingers gripping her elbow.

“Alanna?” he asked, an edge to his voice.

If it hadn’t been for his bodily support, she might have lost her balance. Placing her fingertips on her brow, she forced a smile.

“I’m fine,” she whispered, “just the tension.”

“Dammit, you didn’t eat anything for lunch. You don’t look good at all. You’re going to be questioned closely late this afternoon,” he growled unhappily, leading her to the chair. “Maybe you ought to get to the doctor’s office or an emergency room after the session today. What the hell did you do, catch the Asian flu?”

She touched her chest. “Just a little lung congestion and a fever,” she murmured. “I’ll be fine, I took two more aspirin, and that ought to clear my head enough for what I’m going to do this afternoon.”

Bauman remained unconvinced. “The senator won’t like it if you’re not in top form. This is a lousy time to get sick. Damn.”

She slowly took the marked report out of her briefcase, thinking that if she dropped dead Bauman would be more worried about the loss of testimony than about her. So much for humanity, she thought bitterly, suppressing a cold growing rage within her.

By two-thirty Matt had completed his testimony, which contrasted sharply with Bauman’s presentation. Bauman, like a true lawyer, was taking objection when Thornton smiled wolfishly at the rest of his assembled panel.

“I think, Henry, it would help to hear from someone who was actually there, don’t you?” he suggested silkily, his gaze turning to Alanna.

She saw the gleam in Thornton’s eyes, and she sensed his barely controlled desire to twist the knife more deeply into his victim.

Bauman looked sharply to his right, studying her. “Well—of course, Senator,” he responded lamely.

Alanna sat on the edge of the chair feeling the glaring pressure of the spotlight. Thornton had jerked the string, and like a puppet, she was supposed to dance for him. She leaned forward, both hands planted on the table top, knuckles whitened. “There has been a grave injustice done here, Senator Seale, and I want to set the record straight.” She gulped hard, and then a torrent of words spilled from her lips. “Colonel Breckenridge has been implicated in this crime with falsified evidence. Someone at the senator’s office has taken my report, cut out substantial portions of it, and replaced them with outright lies!”