When the Storm Breaks (8 page)

Washington, D.C.

Sunday evening

T
he doctors Sean had hoped to talk to weren’t available at nine on a Sunday night, but Claire Lambert was. He flashed his badge at the guard posted in the hallway and paused in the partially open door to Claire’s hospital room. Knowing he was there after visiting hours, he did a brief check for roving nurses and began to close the door behind him. The security guard smiled and gave a thumbs-up sign.

Sean turned to the bed, half expecting to find Olivia in the chair, but Claire was alone. She was asleep. Her hair was pulled back, and she wore a deep purple robe that was bright against the white sheets. Someone had brought in a reading light and set it on the nightstand, where it threw soft light across her relaxed face. A paperback novel lay nearby.

The restlessness he’d felt earlier in the evening increased until tension once again filled his body. He hadn’t seen Claire since yesterday afternoon, and he’d hoped his memory had exaggerated her appeal to him. It hadn’t.

As he stared at Claire in her jewel-toned robe, illuminated from the side by soft light, he was forced to admit that he wanted her. Big time.

Down, boy. Didn’t we already have a discussion about this?

He blew a breath up toward his dark bangs, trying to lift them from his suddenly damp forehead.

It’s just because she looks like an angel
, he told himself,
lying under the light with her dark hair and pale, smooth skin. All I have to do is turn the light off
.

He reached across her for the lamp switch. As the shadow of his arm fell over her face, she jolted awake. Eyes wide, she jerked away from Sean with a frightened sound.

“Hey, it’s just me. You’re all right.” Sean’s own heart was unsteady as he used his hand to soothe her.

When the light fell across Claire’s face again, he looked down and saw that her eyes weren’t completely black. In full light they were a deep, dark brown that drew him in like a spiral puzzle. He stood there, unable to say anything else, even when she recognized him and relaxed.

“Sorry, I’ve been a little jumpy,” she said. She wondered how long he’d been watching her sleep. Silence stretched painfully as he just stood there, staring at her.

“Is anything wrong? Any news on the case? Helloooo?” She waved her hand in front of his face, causing him to pull his head back.

He blinked and moved the novel on Claire’s bed. Then he sat on the edge, aiming for a casual note to cover his fascination.

“Ah, no. We’ve been working all weekend, but unfortunately don’t have anything new. How about you? Have you been able to remember anything more?”

“Not really. The feelings I had earlier are stronger, but I don’t have any real memories of the night of the murder. Sorry.”

“What do you mean the feelings are stronger?”

“I told you, I’ve been really jumpy. Like just now.” Her gesture took in the bed and Sean’s presence.

“I think anyone would understand you being a little nervous—” he began.

“No, it’s more than that. This morning I was standing at the window when a nurse came up behind me and touched my shoulder. I just about jumped out of my slippers.” She gave a humorless laugh and started to speak again, then caught herself.

“What else?”

“It’s so stupid, but…I’ve been having bad dreams. At first I thought this was a good sign, that maybe I’d remember something in my dreams. But the only thing I remember is what I feel when I wake up. I don’t like it.”

It was very difficult for her to talk about her vulnerability, but something in Sean’s eyes said she could trust him.

“Ignoring these feelings won’t make them go away,” Sean said, choosing his words carefully. “When you’re in an intense situation, when your life is at risk, the images burn themselves into your brain. You can either deal with them and hope to put the fear behind you, or you can suppress them.”

“Guess which method my brain has chosen?”

“Suppression might work for a while, but eventually—on their own terms—the images will come to the surface. And then they own you,” he said.

She shook her head. Even with Sean’s comforting presence, she didn’t want to remember the sickening flashes of her dreams.

“Claire.” His voice and eyes were intense. “You can deal with the dreams now, or let them haunt you. It’s your choice. And if you remember…” He shrugged. “If you remember, you can do something about stopping the bastard. Isn’t that better than being eaten alive by nightmares?”

Claire was silent for a moment. When she finally spoke, it was in a half whisper. “I think the worst thing is feeling powerless. Feeling like prey. I was terrified—it was a mortal fear, knowing if I didn’t get away I would
die
.” She looked up at him. “I bet you’ve never been scared like that.”

“You’d lose,” he said, then stood up. “Before working with the DCPD, I was in the army. Special Forces. I saw action in some drug-infested sewers around the world, as well as the Gulf War. Believe me, even though CNN makes it all look like a freaking training video—a complete rout spliced nicely to fit into their sound bytes—the bullets were goddamn real to those of us on the ground.”

“Oh.” Somehow the knowledge that he’d once been afraid, that he really knew what she was going through, reassured her. “Were you ever injured?”

“Not seriously. Aidan was,” Sean said, repressed emotion throbbing in his voice. “He was a Navy SEAL, but his career ended in a training accident after the Gulf War. Two men died, and they nearly lost Aidan as well. It took him almost a year to recover.”

“It doesn’t show.”

“It’s there. Before the accident, Aidan was a typical cocky SEAL. You know, the ‘I’m invincible, and good looking, too’ mentality. And he was all of those things.” Sean gave a half smile. “But everyone’s luck runs out eventually. Aidan changed after the accident. He dealt
with all the survivor’s guilt and grew up. He figured out what was important in his life.”

“It must have been horrible.”

“I’m not telling you this so that you feel sorry for him, but to make you realize that others have walked the path you’re on right now. And they came out stronger on the other side.”

Claire read through Sean’s words to his unspoken love for Aidan. “You’re very close to him, aren’t you?”

“We were raised together—he’s like my brother. He’s also the reason I’m here, doing a job I love.”

“It must be very nice to have someone who knows you so well.” Though she felt a tug of envy, Claire’s voice was even.

Sean hesitated. He knew that her childhood friend Olivia was the closest thing Claire had to family. It worried him. “When a person has an experience like yours, they should have someone to talk to. A family member, or someone who understands what they’re feeling. You might want to consider seeing a therapist.”

“A shrink? You’ve got to be kidding. How would he or she know what I was feeling?”

Something in Claire rebelled at the idea of seeking help, especially when she couldn’t even say with certainty what was wrong with her. Basically, she’d witnessed a crime and bumped her head Friday night. Worse things happened to people every day without sending them to the psychiatrist’s couch.

“But you need someone to talk to, and your friends certainly aren’t qualified—has any of them ever been through an experience like yours? Why not see a doctor?” Sean persisted.

“I doubt I’d be able to find a shrink who had tripped over a modern day Jack the Ripper and then bashed his head on a stairway.” She held up a hand to stop his next argument. “Besides, I have you.”

“What?”

“You and Aidan, of course. You two, better than anyone, would know how I’m feeling. And you have a vested interest in me,” she said, smiling.

Sean wondered if she was flirting with him. “I do?”

She gave him a strange look. “The case?”

“Oh, yeah. The case.” He paused. “Of course you can call either one of us night or day to talk about the case, or to just—talk. You know how to reach us, right?”

“I have your card.”

She continued to study him, curious. As she watched him, she sensed that he was deeply aware of her as a woman. God knew she was intensely aware of him. It was something she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

Was he here late on a Sunday night for some reason other than just doing his job?

The phone on the nightstand rang, startling them both. While she talked, he looked at her face in profile, noting the clean line of her small nose, the delicate arch of her cheekbone, and the stubborn thrust of her chin. He wondered what it was about the combination of her features that made her so beautiful to him.

Sean didn’t realize he was staring until Claire hung up the phone and tilted her head inquiringly at him.

“Who called?” he asked, hoping he didn’t look as stupid as he felt.

“Olivia. She’s going shopping tonight and wondered what I wanted. I’ll be staying with her for a couple of days, until I can get a locksmith out to my place.”

“Good. I don’t like the idea of you being alone right now. Does Olivia have a security system?”

“She lives in a secured building. You don’t think—”

“I don’t think anything, except that it would be a good idea for you to stay quiet for a few days and avoid your previous routines. Don’t make your life predictable. Stay with Olivia for as long as you can—it’s just common sense. You can’t always have a guard at your door.”

“A
guard
?” Claire’s voice rose.

He nodded toward the hall and then realized she hadn’t noticed the hospital security guard outside her door.
Shit.

“Since when?” she demanded. “And why?”

“There’s a guard on this floor checking all IDs. It’s probably just hospital policy.”

“That’s lame. Try again.”

He rubbed his neck. “We’re just being cautious, maybe overly so. We don’t know for sure that you’re in any danger.”
Just a burning feeling in my gut whenever I think about it.

Claire looked unconvinced.

Sean was angry with himself for scaring her. If he’d been thinking straight, rather than drooling over her, he might have handled the situation with a bit more finesse.

“Why don’t you get some more sleep?” he said, backing toward the door before he stuck his foot in his mouth again. “Sorry I woke you. I didn’t mean to.”

“Sure. Run away. I’ll sleep great tonight, thanks to you.”

“Do you want me to stay for awhile?” He felt guilty enough to make the offer, though he hoped sincerely she wouldn’t take him up on it.

“No. One guard is enough.”

“Okay. I’ll be in touch.”

He slid out the door and shut it behind him.

“Jackass,” Sean muttered to himself as he strode down the corridor. “You really screwed that up.” He’d jumped out of airplanes during his years in the army. He’d faced down armed felons high on crystal meth when he was working the streets. And after twenty minutes with Claire Lambert he was tied up in knots like a horny teenager.

Distance, that’s what he needed. A lot of distance.

Washington, D.C.

Monday morning

S
ean dragged a grumpy Aidan through the revolving doors of the office building that housed Camelot Dating Services, Inc. They flashed their badges at the security guard and headed to the elevator.

“I told you there wouldn’t be a problem,” Sean said. “She’s been here since seven. Some people appreciate the benefits of getting an early start on the day.”

“Screw you. Some of us were at work until after eleven last night.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t get to sleep much before one,” Sean said, “so I don’t want to hear any bitching.”

“Why were you up that late? And don’t tell me you had a date because I won’t believe it.”

“No date. I just couldn’t turn my brain off and sleep. I went for a drive instead,” Sean mumbled.

“How was Claire?”

Sean blew out an exasperated breath. God only knew how Aidan figured these things out, but he always did.

Aidan smiled. “Like I said, cousin, I know you. I figure
you were at the hospital within half an hour of leaving the station last night.”

“Smart-ass. For your information, I didn’t get there until after nine,” Sean said.

“Sneaking in after visiting hours? How shocking. This gets better and better.” Aidan heard Sean grinding his teeth and took pity on him. “Did she remember anything useful?”

“No. I think the memories are there, but she’s having a tough time dealing with them. She talked about having nightmares, but can’t remember anything when she wakes up. Maybe she doesn’t want to.” Sean shrugged and pressed the button for the eighth floor.

“The first few days after something like this are rough.” Aidan narrowed his eyes as old memories of his own came to the surface. “She might need counseling or something.”

“Jesus, don’t say that to her. I suggested it and she almost took my head off. Says she’ll be just fine without any shrink prying into her dreams.” Sean stepped off the elevator and turned toward Camelot’s offices.

“I told you, she’s a tough one,” Aidan said. “She’ll work it out.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

“Come on, you know I can read people. Besides, anyone can see Claire’s got a backbone of steel inside that incredible body of hers.”

“Even steel will bend or snap under the right kind of pressure,” Sean said. Then he stopped dead as the rest of Aidan’s words sank in. He grabbed his partner’s arm. “You’re not interested in her.”

“Nah, I have a feeling she’s already taken. Doesn’t mean I can’t admire a smart and pretty lady, though.” Aidan’s voice was cheerful.

“She’s not taken. I told you, the preliminary investigation didn’t turn up any boyfriend.”

“How anyone as smart as you can be so thick about women is a complete mystery to me.”

Aidan pushed past Sean and opened the door to Camelot’s offices. He smiled in a friendly way at the young man behind the receptionist counter. “Detectives Burke and Richter here to see Afton Gallagher.”

The kid’s eyes widened as he carefully studied Aidan’s badge.

“Afton is in her private office with her babies right now. I don’t usually disturb her when she’s there. You know—
breast-feeding
.” The kid made a face.

“Right.” Aidan leaned over the desk in a friendly way. “Maybe you could call her extension or something, see if the coast is clear.”

“Sure thing.”

Everyone seemed to open right up to his partner, Sean thought. Somehow, during interviews and in the field, Aidan always got to play good cop to Sean’s bad cop. When he occasionally protested this arrangement, Aidan always pointed out that Sean did a lousy good cop when dealing with suspects. Something about his intensity put people off.

Within a few minutes the two detectives were being shown down a hall. A tall woman with short blonde hair was standing in an open doorway, looking toward them curiously.

“Hello, I’m Afton. I have no idea why you’re here, but please come in.” She stepped aside and showed them into the room.

Introducing themselves, Sean and Aidan walked past her. Though the sign on the door indicated that this was a
“private office,” the room looked more like a set from Sesame Street than a place of business. Fanciful pastel drawings of animals and fairy-tale characters decorated the yellow walls, and there were toys scattered on the floor. An oversize crib was pushed into the corner underneath a mobile of the solar system. A rocking chair sat nearby, next to a bookcase filled with oversized picture books.

Two infants lay in the middle of the floor, comfortably stretched out on a thick green blanket. As Sean and Aidan entered, the babies tracked the sounds and turned their heads to the newcomers.

“Twins!” Aidan said, taking the lead in putting Afton at ease. “You’re a brave woman.”

Sean made no comment, merely squatted down next to the babies and picked up a stuffed animal to get their attention. He knew exactly what to do. Over the years he’d been an honorary uncle to half a dozen of Aidan’s sisters’ kids.

“It’s not like I had a choice, Detective.” Afton smiled, charmed at how comfortable the men seemed to be with her babies. She supposed they must be married with kids of their own, but neither wore a wedding band. When she looked up, she discovered that Detective Burke was discreetly looking at her left hand, too.

Well, he won’t find anything there
, Afton thought.

“I’d offer you a seat, but there aren’t any in here, unless one of you wants the rocking chair. I’m sorry, but my nanny doesn’t get here until noon, so we’ll have to stay with the boys.”

“No problem.” Aidan casually sprawled on the floor, drawing the attention of the nearest baby.

Sean settled himself comfortably as well, keeping a grip on the stuffed animal that was being earnestly gummed by
the child at his side. He waited for Afton to decide what to do next.

She hesitated, then sat on the blanket as well. “These are my sons, Justin and Cameron. They’ll be three months old next week.”

Sean took in her slender figure and ringless hand. “Business owner and mother of two babies—that’s a lot to handle. I hope their father helps out around the house.”

“Their father is dead. What can I do for you gentlemen?” Afton’s tone was flat.

Sean let Aidan jump into the hitch in the conversation while mentally filing away the information for Afton’s file.

“I’m afraid we’re here to investigate an incident involving at least one of your clients,” Aidan said.

“Which client? What happened?”

“Claire Lambert was assaulted after she left here Friday night.” Aidan studied her as he said the words, noting the way she sucked in her breath as her cheeks turned pale.

“Claire! Is she all right?”

“She’s just fine, though she has a nasty bump on her head. I think she’ll be leaving the hospital this morning,” Sean said.

“Jesus. What’s going on in this city? First there’s a murder not ten minutes away, and now I find out that one of my friends was attacked after leaving here.” Afton shook her head and reached out to stroke her hand over first one baby, then the other. “Is it this neighborhood? We just moved the business here four months ago, but maybe I need to find another office building.”

“Crimes occur everywhere in the city,” Sean said. “This building is as secure as most.”

“What happened to Claire? Was she robbed, or…” Afton
forced herself to voice her greatest fear. “Was it a sexual assault?”

“We don’t believe it was, and the doctor found no sign—”

“What did Claire say about it?” Afton interrupted. “I know cops are reluctant to believe the woman, but surely she told you what happened.”

“Claire doesn’t have any clear memories of the night she was attacked,” Aidan said. “The doctor is hesitant to use the word
amnesia
just yet, but says it’s not uncommon for a victim of head trauma to forget some or all of the events leading to the time of injury.”

“That’s where we need your help,” Sean said. “There’s a possibility that the man who attacked her may have some kind of connection to your dating service.”

Guilt flooded Afton. “My God. I’m the one who talked her into this.”

“How long have you known her?” Aidan asked.

“About six months. Claire’s company hired Maura—my sister—to host several corporate events called Meet and Greet Mixers.”

“Meet and what?” Aidan asked.

“You know, a sort of cocktail party after work where a firm’s employees socialize with members of our dating service. Mostly the women members.”

“Come again?” Sean asked.

“I’m sorry. I’m not being very clear, am I?” She ran a hand through her short blonde hair. “I just—I just feel so bad that I nagged Claire into this whole dating mess.”

“Start from the beginning and take your time,” Aidan said.

“Okay.” She blew out a breath. “Most dating services have more female clients than male ones. My sister was
always looking for creative ways around that problem. It turns out that lots of high-tech companies have many more male employees than female ones. Due to the technical nature of their jobs, many of these male employees are, um, introverted.”

Aidan snorted, thinking of the geeks on the Police Department’s IT staff. Sean glared at him.

Afton pressed on. “So Maura developed this plan to combine the two groups—she convinced some of the area firms that Camelot could host cocktail parties and invite only our female clients. The high-tech firms would invite their male programmers and technicians, and everyone could get acquainted in a casual environment. It was a brilliant plan, and the parties were lots of fun.”

“But how did you meet Claire?” Sean asked.

“She’s an account manager at her firm, and she leads a whole team of male programmers and technical experts. She sort of came along for moral support—you know, to act as an icebreaker. She was also the person who convinced her firm to sign up for the meet and greet parties in the first place. She told her management that the company had to offer unique and interesting benefits if they were going to hang on to their technical employees. After a while, we became friends.”

“Do you still host these parties?” Aidan asked. The baby nearest him began to fuss, so he moved a toy within reach.

“No. With the bursting of the tech stocks bubble, many of our participating companies either went under, laid off their employees, or cut back dramatically on benefits and expenses. A lot has changed since my sister’s time.” Afton smiled sadly. “It’s a whole new world out there.”

“Did she sell you the business?” Sean asked.

“No, I inherited everything after she died two months ago. Leukemia.”

“I’m sorry. To lose a husband and sister…this must be a very difficult time for you.” Sean’s sympathy was genuine.

“I’ve never been married, but it was still hard. As for my sister, she was sick and in pain for over a year. She was ready when the time came, even though we weren’t.” Afton’s eyes filmed with tears, which she blinked back.

“Anyway, Camelot is Maura’s legacy, and I work very hard to keep things as she would have wanted them.”

“We don’t want to add to your burden,” Sean said. “But we do need you to help us find out if Camelot is somehow involved with the attack on Claire.”

The baby next to him began to fuss as well—Cameron, he thought. He picked up a rattle to distract him.

“It’s almost feeding time,” Afton murmured.

“We won’t be much longer, just a couple more questions,” Sean assured her. “If you could tell us what happened during Claire’s appointment last Friday, that would be a big help.”

“Claire’s appointment started late, about seven. It was her first visit as a client, so we had a lot of paperwork to go through. She had to fill out several lengthy questionnaires on our computer system and provide detailed background information on herself.”

“Can we see what she filled out?” Aidan asked.

“Member records are confidential, unless Claire is willing to release them. I can show you some blank questionnaires if you think that would help.”

“Okay, so what did you do after the question-and-answer session?” Sean asked.

“My mother works with me. We both spent some time
helping Claire write a brief biography about herself. This will appear with her photo in our online catalogue. And yes,” she added, before they could ask, “access to the catalogue is confidential and limited to members as well.”

“And then?” Sean prompted.

“Then we spent several hours looking through our catalogue of male clients. We explained the system to Claire, then showed her how to search and sort candidates and their photos based on her preferences.”

Sean came to attention. “Do you have the results of any of her searches? We can get a court order if necessary.”

Afton looked unhappy at the thought of the police going through Camelot’s files. “Claire, being Claire, decided not to use any sort criteria. She just started with the beginning of the alphabet and worked through to the last male candidate. She’s very thorough. It took her until after eleven to finish the whole catalogue.”

Sean thought quickly. If they could get a copy of everything they could cross match against the national criminal database and flag any Camelot members who had criminal records. “What format do you use for your files?”

“We use a database that was developed exclusively for Camelot. I can give you the name of our software consultant.”

Afton picked up Cameron as the baby’s fussing began to increase in volume. Justin also began to get restless, so Aidan jostled him gently, trying to distract him with strokes and pats.

Sean spoke over the sounds of unhappy babies. “What is the exact procedure you use to screen a new member?”

“Just as I explained to you. Claire’s first visit was pretty typical. Once the new client leaves, we take their detailed background information and give it to a private investigator
we have on retainer. They run a basic check for criminal records, credit history, that kind of thing.”

Sean nodded. No help there.

“What does all this have to do with Claire being attacked?”

Sean hesitated, looked at his partner, then answered. “Claire remembers very little from last Friday night, but she did get a brief look at her attacker. She had a very strong impression that she’d seen the man before in a photograph—she’s very certain about that. Camelot is the only place she can imagine having looked at photos recently, so we’re checking it out.”