Concrete Evidence (45 page)

A look passed between agents Pratt and Silver. Then Pratt smiled, obviously pleased he had a witness on his side. “Stupid move, Scott.”

“So sue me. Just know that if you do, I will make sure everyone—especially the girl’s mother—knows your methods risked the lives of everyone on that train just because you wanted to beat the DEA and collar Novak and Delgado yourself.”

Pratt got back on his feet, rubbing his cheek. “If she hadn’t lost her tail, she’d have had two agents with her on the train.”

So the fiasco in the station was Erica’s fault? He wanted to punch the man again. When Novak put his gun in her mouth, Lee had nearly lost his mind with rage and fear.

“I’ll forget you hit me. I’m even going to forget about all the illegal hacking you’ve been doing, because you’ve been such a good sport to help us with this investigation.” The man’s smile was slick, smarmy. “Don’t worry about Ms. Kesling. She probably won’t be charged. She’ll spend a night in custody answering questions. No big deal.”

“As long as she has a lawyer present.”

“Not if she doesn’t lawyer up.” He left with Agent Silver in tow.

Dammit. She was broke. She’d be terrified of what a lawyer would cost her and wasn’t likely to request a public defender. He could hire fifty lawyers to defend her, but if she didn’t say the magic words, they’d all be stuck waiting outside the door. She’d never even know they were there.

JT picked up the earrings again and studied them. “You really do love her, don’t you?”

“You’re just figuring that out?”

“No. I knew it the first time I saw you two together, in the copy room. You couldn’t take your eyes off her. But I thought it was just lust.”

His laugh held a harsh edge. “So did Erica.”

“I have an idea. A way we can turn public opinion in her favor. But I’ll only tell you on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“I wanna be best man.”

He smiled. “Deal.”

C
HAPTER
F
ORTY-
N
INE

T
HE
FBI
HELD
E
RICA
for twenty-four hours. She was released without pending charges late Tuesday morning. US Attorney Curt Dominick and Agent Roger Pratt escorted her through the parking garage to a less visible exit while the FBI Director held a press conference inside.

“You sure you don’t want a ride home?” Dominick asked.

She scanned the slow-moving traffic, took in the scent of hot asphalt, and smiled. Baking pavement, the smell of freedom. Her ordeal was really over. “I’d rather walk.”

“Watch out for reporters. They haven’t staked out your building yet, but they’ll probably show up after the press conference.” Dominick smiled. “You’re big news.”

Someone had tapped into the Metro’s security cameras and posted the clip of what happened in the Van Ness station on YouTube. The video had millions of hits before it had been pulled from the site. In spite of the violent content, several news networks had aired the footage. According to Dominick, the press had embraced her as a hero.

Some hero. She should have acted sooner, before sicko Marco had a chance to harm Daisy’s young psyche.

She said good-bye to the FBI agent who wouldn’t explain his bruised cheek or say who had posted the clip, and the man turned back to the building. But Pratt had told her much about Lee and why he had been working undercover, filling in the last pieces of the puzzle.

The FBI had threatened to charge her along with Jake and Marco if Lee didn’t cooperate. He’d been forced to fire her.

Curt Dominick remained with her in the garage.

“Dominick, can we talk off the record?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“You know Lee. You’re friends, right?”

“I’ve known him since he was fourteen.”

“Yet you forced him to set me up as bait.”

He shook his head. “No. That was the FBI. I didn’t know about the raid on the boat, and I didn’t know about Novak and Delgado. I wasn’t brought in until after you were in custody. It was my job to decide if we had enough to charge you.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I knew Lee and JT were investigating something in the Bethesda office—but Lee indicated it was internal embezzling, and he wanted to know what type of evidence he needed that would be usable in court. If he’d told me he was investigating Novak, I’d have told him about the drug investigation. He would have been warned about who he was dealing with.”

“How did you know? About the drugs?”

He grimaced. “After you arrived in DC, I received a briefing from the DEA—they were tracking you because of your association with Novak. Then, when your name turned up on the witness list when Tommy Riversong—a known dealer—was murdered, I received another briefing.”

She frowned. “That’s why you studied me so suspiciously at the party.”

His mouth curved in a faint smile. “I look at everyone that way. But yes. I was concerned. Especially since it was clear Lee was ass over teakettle.”

She turned away. She wasn’t about to discuss Lee with this man.

“Erica, you should know, if I had any inkling Delgado was involved and that you could connect him to Novak, I’d have put security on you 24/7.”

“And now? Am I in danger from the rest of the Delgados?”

“No. You were a threat to Marco because you could testify against him. But he’s dead. No trial. No testimony. And you don’t know anything about the Delgado cartel. You aren’t a threat to them. You are a free woman.”

She thanked him and left the parking garage. She walked slowly, gawking like a tourist as she passed world-famous landmarks and museums. She had moved to DC out of necessity but now realized she wanted to stay. She liked the city with the low skyline, whose only industry was politics. She liked the stately, self-important architecture. She was free of her past now. She could make friends. Build a life.

She desperately hoped Lee would be part of that life.

A half hour later, she entered her building. The concierge came to attention when he saw her, and called across the lobby, “Miss Kesling! You’re back! Welcome home.” His voice was filled with new friendliness. “We’ve been watching you on the news. You…you…” he stuttered. “You were amazing.”

The building manager rushed out from the back office. “We’ve been receiving calls and deliveries for you all morning.” She switched to her firm manager voice. “I allowed the furniture movers into your apartment even though you hadn’t reserved the elevator for the delivery. I could make an exception today, but please schedule future deliveries with the office.”

Hope blossomed in her chest. She could think of only one person who would buy furniture for her empty apartment. “Thanks,” she said and hurried to the elevator.

She reached her floor and stood outside her apartment door. She took a deep breath before stepping inside. Her heart began to race when she saw the couch she had hoped to purchase from the same store where she bought her original dining set.
How did he know?
She whirled around and gasped when her eyes fell on the dining set, a replica of the one destroyed by Jake.

In her bedroom, she found a king-size bed. A note and a red rose lay on a pillow.

Erica,

I love you. I love you. I love you.

I hope by now you understand why I pretended to be someone I’m not and can forgive me for lying to you. I never wanted to hurt you.

As much as I want you with me, sharing my home and my life, I also wanted to make sure you have a choice. I bought furniture so you can stay in your apartment and hired a lawyer to handle your fight with the credit bureaus. Your credit should be reinstated soon. If you can’t stand the idea of working for me at Talon & Drake, you should know that job offers, even book deals, are pouring in. You won’t have trouble supporting yourself.

I’m at the office, hoping, praying, waiting for your call.

I love you. Lee

She picked up the rose. The delicate scent washed over her. He wanted her. During the last twenty-four miserable hours, she’d battled the treacherous hope he really did care for her, afraid if he didn’t, she’d fall apart.

She had to see him. The clothes she’d left at the Watergate were hanging in her bedroom closet. She showered and dressed, excitement and fear coursing through her in equal amounts.

Traffic made the normally thirty-minute drive take an agonizing forty-five, but finally, she pulled up behind the office high-rise and parked. Seeing a few reporters staking out the front of the building, she slipped in through the parking garage and convinced a security guard who recognized her to let her through the secured entrance. She took the elevator to the ninth floor, assuming Lee’d taken over Drake’s office. In the elevator vestibule, she paused, surprised to see the chaos in the reception area on the other side of the double glass doors. The area was crowded, dozens of people packed into a space designed to hold ten. No one looked in her direction, and she was content to watch the mayhem from outside.

Lee entered from the hallway that led to the executive offices. He wore a tailored suit that projected style, class, and authority. He must have met with JT’s barber, because even his hair was executive perfect. “Okay,” she heard him say through the glass, “they’re ready to interview Arnie Ross in the north conference room.”

Several people groaned as they let Arnie pass.

“I know you’ve been waiting all morning,” Lee said, “but the FBI needs to interview everyone separately.”

“I need a file from my office,” Lily Davenport said.

“No one gets access to their office or computers until they’ve been searched and cleared.”

Erica studied him. Handsome, polished, as intimidating now as JT. How had he ever convinced her he was a young intern? Was she completely
blind
? He was a natural leader. He’d already earned the respect of half the employees, and when the furor died down, he’d have the rest in the palm of his hand. And she would be right there with them.

She opened the door. First one person noticed her, then another. In seconds, silence filled the packed lobby, and a path cleared between her and Lee. Her stomach did flip-flops.

He smiled slowly, warmly. His chiseled features went from handsome to devastating. “I like your hair.”

She’d worn her hair down, knowing that would please him. “Thanks.” Her gaze locked with his. “Yesterday, you fired me.”

“That wasn’t my choice.”

“I want my job back.”

“It’s yours.”

She walked toward him, oblivious of the coworkers who lined her path. “With a raise.”

“No problem.”

She stopped directly in front of him. “I have other demands.”

He grinned. “We can negotiate in my office.”

He led her to Edward Drake’s large corner office. Once inside, he closed the door and dropped to his knees in front of her.

Her heart lurched.

“I’m so sorry, Erica.”

She tugged on his hand until he stood again and wrapped her in his arms. She pressed her face against his chest. “I’m sorry too. I wish I’d trusted you.”

He stroked her hair. “You had no reason to. I was a shit.” He tilted her head back until he could look into her eyes. “Yesterday, watching you fight Novak and Delgado was—” His voice cut out. He cleared his throat. “
Hell
doesn’t begin to describe it.”

His arms circled her again, pressing her snug against his chest. She’d wanted someone to hold her from the second the violence had ended. Instead, she’d been interrogated. “What was the one thing you told me that was true?”

“I love you, Erica. I’m totally, completely in love with you.”

“Hm. Then I guess you’re
not
a fifth-degree black belt?”

He laughed. “Okay, I told you two true things.”

She smiled, then pulled his face to hers and kissed him. “It was true for me too. I’m crazy in love with you.”

His kiss was fierce, passionate. Different. He pulled back and studied her with sad eyes. “I wanted to tell you. I almost did several times.”

“No more regrets.” She smiled up at him. “I’d rather think about the future.”

“I’ll do anything, go anywhere, as long as I’m with you. I told Joe I’d stay on through the campaign, but, given what’s happened, if you want to leave DC, we’ll go.”

He was choosing her over Joe. Over JT. A joyful ache cascaded through her.

“I like DC.” She pulled away from him and circled the office, trailing her fingers across the mahogany desk. She didn’t think the office furnishings were Lee’s style, but then again, there was so much about him she didn’t know. “Will this work? Me working for you?”

He crossed the room and slid his hands around her waist. “If it doesn’t, you can quit. I make more than enough to support us both.”

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. He was offering her security.

“The Watergate condo is mine. We can live there, or your place. I don’t care. I just want to be with you.”