Our Little Secret (27 page)

“Maybe we’re jumping to conclusions,” Drew said.
“Just because he had long blond hair doesn’t mean he was Meg’s—” He hesitated. “—
partner
in those pictures.”

She recalled the man’s perfect features, cold eyes, and emotionless smile. “No, it was him. I saw his face.”

Her revulsion must have shown. “Hey,” Drew said softly, stroking a hand through her hair. His gaze grew tender with concern, and she mentally added that to his list of good qualities. Damn. They were beginning to add up for someone who was just a fling.

He tilted her chin up and smiled. “I guess I should be glad it was his face you were looking at in those pictures.”

“As opposed to?” Then she got it. “Very funny. It’s not like I could have been looking at anything else, since it was usually buried in…”

She broke off, aware of curious glances from a nearby couple. “Never mind,” she muttered.

She was still worried, but Drew’s joking had calmed her, and his arm around her shoulder was reassuring. She snuggled closer as the line inched forward.

He seemed to relax, too, while they boarded the plane and found their seats. As Lauren buckled her seat belt, she felt him watching her, an odd look on his face.

“What?” she asked.

He shook his head and smiled. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

He’d been giving her odd looks like that lately, sometimes so intense she thought he would drag her off for a quickie, and sometimes so preoccupied it was like he wasn’t there at all.

*  *  *

Drew’s mind was wandering again. Somehow his thoughts had gone from worrying about Lauren and how to keep her safe, to envisioning her safe and happy at his Colorado home. Maybe he was just homesick.

Lauren was quiet as she looked out her window. Washington and the eastern seaboard dropped away below them. He spoke gently, reluctant to cause her more worry. “His being there wasn’t a coincidence, you know.”

She nodded, turning a concerned gaze on him. “Do you think he was one of the guys in the hotel parking lot?”

She was surprised when he shook his head. “No. That would be an easy solution, but the clerk at the front desk said two guys with Secret Service ID asked for us. So they were the two guys in the car. Blondie has to be one of the bad guys.”

It was enough to make his head ache. How many people could be following them?

Lauren frowned. “He said he’d handcuff me if I didn’t obey. Doesn’t carrying handcuffs mean he’s someone official?”

“Did he say he was?”

“No.”

“Then he wasn’t. A real agent would have announced who he was. Anyone can buy handcuffs. And he took off as soon as I stepped in. No matter what he said, I don’t think these people want to create a scene. From now on, stay close to me. They won’t try anything if we’re together.”

At least he hoped not. If it was the same guy who’d
tried to run them down after the embassy party, he wasn’t adverse to taking risks.

She looked doubtful. “Do you think they’ll follow us to Florida?”

Yes.
“Maybe.”

She sighed and turned back to the window.

She wasn’t fearless, but she was brave in spite of her fear. Good. He wouldn’t have to worry that she would be too paralyzed to act quickly if necessary. But he was starting to worry about something else—that this would get a lot more dangerous. They were making someone very nervous.

Lauren’s spirits improved when they landed in Fort Myers and discovered the weather was a sunny eighty-five degrees.

“Let’s ask the rental company if we can get a convertible,” Lauren said.

The sparkle in her eyes made him smile. “I don’t know. That sounds pretty impractical.”

He’d been teasing, but she looked surprised. “Yeah, it is. Can we do it anyway?”

He laughed. “Honey, we can do whatever you want.”

Her brilliant smile sent an arrow right into his heart.

As the day went on, his elevated mood persisted. He’d been cautious and alert, but hadn’t spotted anyone following as they wandered around the airport and lingered over lunch. No doubt someone would catch up with them later. And if Agent Chapman decided to waste Secret Service money by sending some flunky to tail them around southwest Florida, he’d consider it added protection. He wouldn’t let it interfere with the pleasure of being with Lauren.

He had her to himself for the next day and night.
Drew found himself humming under his breath while he waited for Lauren outside the ladies’ room at the car rental agency. He recognized it as one of the tunes they’d danced to at the embassy party. The music seemed to have gotten stuck in his head, but he didn’t mind. For a hunted man, he felt incredibly carefree.

Still humming, he checked his cell phone for messages: one. Punching in the retrieval code, he expected to hear Gerald’s voice, but the angry growl in his ear was far too low to belong to his father’s assistant.

“Goddamn it, Creighton, call me.”

Agent Chapman. Drew dialed and waited for the familiar snarl on the other end.

“Creighton, I told you to stay put.”

“Yes, you did,” Drew answered pleasantly.

His cheerfulness didn’t help Chapman’s attitude. “Did you hear from your father?”

“No.”

“Because if you did, and you two idiots are trying to handle this on your own—”

“Relax, Chapman. I said no. We’re tracking down a lead.”

“What lead?”

“I’d rather not say. It’s based on a rumor, and it’s highly personal. Politically sensitive information.”

“Oh, I see. You wouldn’t want the Secret Service to hear something like that.” Sarcasm practically dripped from the phone.

“Glad you agree.” As much as he enjoyed jerking Chapman’s chain, he couldn’t blame the man for being angry. No one was as privy to the private lives of politicians, and as discrete about it, as the Secret Service. Grudgingly, Drew threw him a bone.

“If it turns out to be true, you’ll be the first to know. I just want to check it out.”

A few seconds of silence followed, during which Chapman was probably seething and kicking puppies. Drew’s gaze was distracted by Lauren as she exited the ladies’ room and walked toward him. Long, shapely legs moved in a provocative rhythm, and her hips swayed sensuously beneath her new sundress. Allowing Lauren time to change into her new clothes had been well worth the delay.

He kissed her cheek and lifted a finger.

“Chapman? You still there?”

“Yeah,” the gruff voice rumbled. “Listen, Creighton. We found that bank employee who deposited the bribe money.”

It could be the break they were looking for. “Excellent! Did he tell you who put him up to it?”

“He couldn’t. We fished him out of the Potomac last night. Took a bullet to the head, execution style.”

He tried not to let Lauren see the panic that twisted his gut into knots. “Shit.”

“Yeah. These guys aren’t playing nice and you’re out there taking too many chances. Just tell me where you are.”

“You know where we are. You followed us.”

“The hell I did. How important do you think you are, Creighton?”

Despite the warm sun, an icy tendril wormed its way down Drew’s spine. Keeping his voice calm, he asked, “You didn’t have anyone follow us to the hotel and the airport?”

“What? The airport? Hell, no. I can’t spare agents to follow some dumbass civilian when I’ve got a U.S.
senator missing and possibly in danger. Are you telling me you left Washington?”

Drew sucked in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “We’re in Florida. Two men were watching our car in the hotel parking lot. I thought they were your boys.”

The anger was suddenly gone, and Chapman’s tone was clipped and professional. “How do you know someone was watching your car?”

“I didn’t go down and ask them, but two guys sat in a black Ford for a couple hours this morning with a clear view of our car.”

“Your car. That would be the Volvo?”

Drew thought he detected a bit of taunting behind the question. “Yeah, congratulations, you caught me. Forget the car. Who were the two guys, Chapman?”

“Did you get a plate?”

“No.” Damn. “I didn’t think I had to. The guy at the front desk said they flashed Secret Service ID.”

Drew listened to a couple seconds of silence before Chapman responded. “I don’t know, but I’ll look into it.”

It was all he was going to get for now. “Make it quick,” Drew said, then broke the connection and shoved the phone in his pocket. Having an unidentified tail in addition to the blond guy was worrisome. And if the two guys
were
Secret Service, wouldn’t Chapman know about it?

“What’s wrong?” Lauren asked.

“Nothing. Agent Chapman doesn’t know who was watching us at the hotel. It’s probably just a couple of low-level agents his boss sicced on us without telling him. He’s going to find out, just to put my mind at ease.” He downplayed it, satisfied that he wasn’t lying.

She watched him closely. “You wouldn’t be one of those guys who’d keep stuff from the little lady as part of some misguided protective instinct, would you?”

Drew smiled. He didn’t want her to worry, but he liked that she read him so well. “Yes, I would.”

“That’s sweet. Don’t do it, okay?”

He considered carefully before nodding. “Okay.”

“Is there anything else you’re not telling me for my own good?”

He hesitated, then said it. “They found the bank employee. Dead.”

She swallowed, then nodded. “Anything else?”

“No.”

“Is the car ready?”

Drew tossed her the keys. “Red, like you wanted. It’s over there.”

She turned, the first hint of a smile returning to her face. It might be forced, but he was glad to see it.

He hadn’t wanted to tell her about the murdered bank employee. He hadn’t wanted to cause those worry lines on her forehead as she steered the car onto Daniels Parkway. But he respected her need to know the truth. The Mustang convertible couldn’t take away the worry, but for a short time he could at least pretend they were carefree. He relaxed in the passenger seat, enjoying his view of Lauren as much as he enjoyed the hot Florida sun on his bare arms.

An hour later they were on Sanibel, cruising slowly past Senator McNabb’s front gates for the third time. With a security fence and heavy vegetation screening the house, they couldn’t see much more than the garage. But at least no one in the house could see the red Mustang prowling back and forth either.

A man they assumed to be the senator’s husband had loaded up golf clubs and driven off earlier. Ideally, they should talk to Senator McNabb while her husband was gone, but she still wasn’t alone. For the past hour, two teenage boys had been hanging out near the open garage, washing a Jeep Cherokee and cleaning its interior.

Lauren smacked her hand on the steering wheel. “Why didn’t we think of this? I pictured her being alone down here. Naturally, her family would be here, this is their
home.
How can we talk to her while they’re around?”

“Awkward.” Drew agreed. “‘Hello, Mr. McNabb. Is your wife at home? We’d like to speak with her about her marital infidelities. Won’t take but a minute.’ That would put him off his golf game for sure.”

“Damn, those boys are meticulous. Must be picking up a couple girls,” Drew added, admiring the clean Jeep as the boys finally started the SUV.

“Well, I hope they get out of here it’s soon. We can’t keep cruising around like this. Someone’s going to get suspicious.”

“We can say we’re checking out property, considering buying a vacation condo.”

“In my dreams.”

Lauren parked a quarter mile down the road, where Drew pretended to consult a map. Ten minutes later, the two boys blew past them in the shiny black Jeep.

“About time,” he said, folding the map. “Let’s go.”

Lauren pulled a U-turn and drove back, slowing as she neared the senator’s property. The tall iron gates had just come into view when they swung open, and a small station wagon pulled out with two women in the
front seat. Drew craned his neck to see the logo on the driver’s door.

“Gulf Breeze Clean,” he read aloud. “Looks like the cleaning service is done for the day. That makes the husband gone with his golf clubs, at least one kid gone with his friend, and the maid service gone. I say we try our luck.”

Lauren nodded and pulled up to the imposing black gates, now closed again.

“Press the button on the call box,” Drew instructed, moving as close to her and the speaker as the gear shift allowed.

“We should have switched places,” she said, leaning back in the bucket seat to give him room.

Drew braced an arm on the dash and edged closer to her side. “I like it better this way.” It was actually damned uncomfortable, but worth the risk of impaling himself on the gear shift in order to brush against Lauren’s breast and inhale the scent of suntan lotion rising from her warm skin.

“Yes?”

The tinny static from the box was marginally better than a fast food drive-up. Drew spoke loudly.

“Drew Creighton to see Senator McNabb.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No. I’m here on urgent, personal business. Tell her I’m Senator Creighton’s son.”

“One moment, please.”

He shifted position while he waited, rubbing against Lauren breast.

She smiled. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Yes, thanks. Are you?”

“You’re insatiable,” she said, pursing her lips in a
way probably meant to look prudish. It made him want to tug her pouty lower lip into his mouth and run his tongue over it.

He dropped his eyelids seductively and murmured, “You’re right, I am,” just to watch the flush spread up her neck to her cheeks. Damn, he loved it when she blushed like that. It made him want to lock them both in a bedroom for a week and—

The box rattled to life. “I’m sorry, Mr. Creighton. Senator McNabb is unable to see you.”

“What?” He’d assumed his father’s name would arouse the lady’s curiosity, if not outright concern. “Tell her it has to do with my father’s recent marriage,” he said, then added pointedly, “And with his rather sudden departure from Washington.” If she was the one who had been blackmailed, she would have to know he was referring to the Secret Service sting operation.