Summer Rain (Lightning Strikes Book 3) (15 page)

He dropped his voice and leaned in. "I spoke to Ann Higgins. Sure I can't give you a ride?"

She shot him a disbelieving look. "She told you something?"

"My car is in a lot around the corner on Davis Street. I'll wait five minutes." He walked away from her, hoping she would follow.

When he reached the lot, he got into his car and looked into the rearview mirror. No sign of Dani. Another two minutes passed. Then he saw her moving between the cars. She opened the passenger door and got inside.

"I feel like a spy," she said. "This is ridiculous."

"Or exciting," he suggested.

"What did Ann tell you?"

"It wasn't what she said as much as how she reacted to the word
hummingbird
. She flinched and looked extremely nervous."

"So what is
hummingbird
? Some password for some covert operation?"

"She didn't say. She said she couldn't talk with so many people around, but she would meet me in a half hour at the World War II Memorial."

Even in the dim light, he could see the worry in Dani's eyes.

"That sounds dramatic," she said. "Why couldn't she meet you in a bar or just outside the hotel?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. She said something about not being overheard. Once she learned who I was and what I wanted to talk about, she didn't want to be seen with me. She couldn't get away fast enough. I'm starting to feel like I have the plague."

"Or you
are
the plague," Dani said dryly. "I take it you're going to meet her."

"Of course. Want to join me?"

"No."

Despite her quick denial, he sensed she was more interested than she wanted to be. "Are you sure? Aren't you curious what she has to say?"

"Do you know how many times tonight I was reminded of the senator's trust in me, his appreciation of my loyalty?"

"That alone should make you want to know what Ann knows, because the people surrounding your boss seem very intent on making sure you don't talk to me. Why? What are they so worried about?"

"I don't know, and you're right, their behavior is getting stranger by the minute. Stephen Phelps, the senator's press secretary, has never bothered to exchange more than two words with me until tonight. He danced with me, tried to charm me and ended up suggesting we meet for a drink sometime. He was smooth as silk, and I didn't believe one word that came out of his mouth. But then I wondered if it's me reading into innocent comments."

"I don't think you are reading into anything."

"Stephen is very close to Erica. He was her first hire. They're tight. I wonder if she told him to get closer to me."

"Then you should definitely come with me tonight, Dani. No one else will be there. Let's find out what Ann knows and if there's something your boss or his staff needs to be worried about."

"She might not talk to you if I'm there," Dani said.

He supposed that was a risk, but his gut told him it was important to keep Dani close, and he wasn't going to question why. "Let's risk it. I could really use your assessment of Ann, too. I think you have good instincts about people."

"All right," she said after a moment's thought.

"Good."

He didn't know why he was so relieved she'd agreed to come with him. He was used to working alone. Most days he preferred it. But ever since Dani had come to his rescue, he'd felt like their connection was important, possibly in ways he had yet to understand.

Starting the car, he pulled out of the lot, keeping a watchful eye on the traffic behind them, but they didn't appear to have a tail.

They had to park a few blocks from the National Mall and walk in to the park. The World War II Memorial was located at the east end of the mall near the reflecting pool. There were no tourists around at just before eleven o'clock at night, for which Patrick was both relieved and worried. He didn't know if Ann had just thrown out the meeting spot off the top of her head or if she'd had a reason to pick a deserted location for their conversation, but he was going to be on his guard.

"This is one of my favorite monuments," Dani said, as they walked toward the memorial, which was set in a semi-circle with a magnificent fountain in the center.

"It is impressive," he agreed. "My mother brought me here for the opening in 2004. Her father came along, too. My grandfather served in World War II, and this monument meant a lot to him."

"That must have been an emotional moment for all of you."

"Very." Patrick dug his hands in his pocket as he looked around at the fifty-six columns representing the forty-eight states and eight federal territories unified at the end of World War II. "My grandfather was a tough guy—a stoic, silent, suffer-in-silence kind of man. He was gruff and cranky, and while he had a fierce love for family and country, he didn't express it very well. That day I saw a tear come out of his eye. It was the most shocking thing I'd ever seen. He wasn't a man who could cry, but that day he did. He didn't say anything about what he was feeling, but it was written on his face."

"My father didn't serve in that war, but he was a military man. Seeing the wall with all these stars of lost soldiers reminds me of his service. Sometimes I wish I'd known
that
man."

"Did he talk about his days in the Navy much?"

"Almost never. He got out of the Navy when I was a little kid. I knew him as the man who flew small plane charters. I guess I never asked him about his earlier life."

"Don't beat yourself up about it. I don't think most kids believe their parents even existed before they were born."

"That's probably true," she agreed, as they walked slowly around the memorial. "It's hard to be cynical here, surrounded by heroes and sacrifice. It reminds me that the job I do is supposed to support the job the soldiers do—protect our country and make it stronger."

"You're as patriotic as any of the men who fought in World War II, Dani, and I don't think you're cynical, at all. I wonder if that might change over time, though."

"I hope not. I'd like my work to matter. I'd like to do something that inspires people. I'd like to make a difference, the way you've done with your book." She paused. "I skimmed through it on my lunch hour today. It's really good. The research you must have done, the amount of investigative work, had to be staggering."

"I spent almost two years on that project."

"I can't imagine the risks you took to get to the truth. How did you even know where to start?"

"I had a source who risked his life to come to me. He'd read some of my investigative articles and thought I could give him a voice."

"You certainly did that. When is the movie coming out?"

"Who knows? It could be a year or more. Hollywood doesn't move fast."

"What were you going to work on next before you got caught up in your mom's story?"

"I hadn't decided. I was thinking about a few projects, but mostly, I was just catching my breath. It was a crazy two years. And, honestly, Dani, I was more responsible for writing up the information than discovering it all. I got more credit than I should have."

"You're being modest."

"Just honest."

She stared back at him, a thoughtful gleam in her eyes, as if she were measuring his words.

"Believe me, I'm not above bragging," he added. "But only if I have something to brag about."

"Good to know you have standards. Although, flirting with beautiful women to get information seems to be part of your arsenal."

"You mean Ann?"

"And Erica. She agreed to meet you for lunch tomorrow."

"I use what works. Ann and Erica are both women who like male attention."

"That's true. Although, I'd say in Erica's case, she likes everyone's attention. She's turned our office into her universe. She's the sun, and everyone else revolves around her, even Senator Dillon."

"What about Dillon's wife? Does she get along with Erica?"

"Funny you should ask that. Mrs. Dillon called me over to speak to her tonight. She mentioned that she misses some of the old faces on the staff, like Joe's. She asked me what I thought of Erica. She said she worried that Erica doesn't always have her husband's interests at heart and that she might have her own ambition driving some of her decisions."

"That's interesting. What did you say?"

"I was very diplomatic. I said I thought Erica was a hard worker, but beyond that I wasn't privy to what went on between her and the senator. I thought Mrs. Dillon seemed too interested in Erica and also a little worried, as if she wondered if there is something going on between Erica and her husband."

"Do you think that's possible?" he asked curiously.

"I hope not, but she does seem to have a lot of influence over him, and she is quite stunning, wouldn't you agree?"

"She's nowhere near as pretty as you, Dani."

She flushed at his words. "You don't have to flirt with me, Patrick. I'm already helping you, against my better judgment. So put the charm aside."

"I'm not flirting. I'm just being honest."

"You like that word
honest
, don't you?"

He nodded. "Yes, I do. Honesty is important to me."

"Well, if we're being honest, I should tell you that I really don't want to be part of any of this."

"But you can't seem to stay away from me," he said lightly.

"No, I can't," she said, giving him a helpless look. "And I don't know why. I want you out of my life because you're a complication I don't need, but I can't quite get there. I wasn't going to speak to you tonight, and look where we are."

His mouth felt suddenly dry at the sincerity of her words. "I can't quite get there, either, Dani. I told myself to stay away from you, but when I saw you at the gala—you took my breath away."

She swallowed hard at his words. "Everyone looks good in a dress like this."

"No, not everyone. You're beautiful, Dani. I don't think you realize just how pretty you are."

A breeze gusted, and she wrapped her arms around her waist. "Stop, you're embarrassing me."

He smiled. "Believe me, I can be more embarrassing." He stepped forward, stripping off his jacket. "You're cold."

"If you give me that, you'll be cold."

"With you standing so close, I doubt it." He placed the coat around her shoulders. The scent of her perfume wafted around him like a tantalizing dream. She was so close, and he was so tired of fighting temptation.

He leaned in and took the kiss he'd been dreaming about.

Her mouth opened under his, and he deepened the kiss, moving his hands to her head, running his fingers through the silky strands of her hair as he tasted the sweet heat of her mouth. He felt like he could lose himself in her—a minute, an hour, a week could have passed for all he knew. It was just him and Dani, and nothing else mattered.

She kissed him back with a passion that matched his, her hands roaming his back as she pressed her breasts against his chest. He wanted so much more of her than just her mouth, but he couldn't break away from her lips. He had to keep kissing her, slanting his mouth one way and then another; he couldn't get enough.

Dani finally found a way out of the madness, putting her hands against his chest, breaking free of his kiss. As she stepped away from him with ragged breaths, he could see the desire in her eyes; the tangled strands of her hair, her swollen lips, her glittering green eyes made him want to move back in.

She put up a hand in defense.

He saw the plea in her eyes.
Damn!

"Patrick," she murmured. "Look where we are."

"I don't care," he said, meaning it with all of his heart.

"We can't do this."

"Here or…"

"Anywhere," she said. "The way we kiss…it's too much. It's too intense."

"I thought it was perfect."

She grabbed his coat off the ground. At some point in the midst of their passion, it had fallen off her shoulders and onto the cement. "You should take this back."

"You think I'm cold now?" he asked dryly.

She tipped her head in acknowledgement. "Okay. Then I'll wear it." She put the coat on and then crossed her arms in front of her, making it seem like she'd put on a suit of impenetrable armor. "We need to remember why we're here, Patrick."

"Yeah," he said, seeing the resolve in her eyes and deep down knowing it was probably a good thing she'd called a halt before Ann found them rolling around in the middle of the memorial.

"I think someone is coming," Dani said.

He turned around to see Ann stop in the shadows at the edge of the memorial. "That's her," he said, heading in her direction.

"Who's this?" Ann asked warily, as Dani came up next to him.

"Dani Monroe. She's helping me figure out what my mother was working on before she died. She was with me when Montalvo told us about
hummingbird
. Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of her."

Ann stared back at him, her expression unreadable. "The last time I talked to anyone about
hummingbird
was eight years ago, and that person ended up dead."

His gut clenched. "You're talking about my mother, aren't you?"

"Yes. And the only reason I came here tonight was to tell you to back off. Don't go down this road. You will regret it."

"It's too late for warnings. I'm already on the road, and I have no intention of stopping. So tell me what the hell is
hummingbird
?"

"It's not a what, it's a who. And I can't tell you. I've never revealed a source, and I won't start now."

"Then why did you come tonight? You must want to tell me something," he said.

She licked her lips, then said, "I've been wanting to tell someone this for a long time, but I didn't know who would be willing to listen, to really hear me."

"Tell me," he ordered. "Because I want to know."

She hesitated for a long second. "I think your mother was murdered."

Ten

He'd had doubts about his mother's death, but hearing the words
your mother was murdered
said so boldly, without doubt, without hesitation, sent him reeling.

Even though it had been a surreal possibility in his mind, he hadn't really believed it. He'd thought that in the end he'd find out it was just an accident, that Rebecca's rumors were just rumors, that there was really nothing to know.