Turning to reach behind her, she grabbed her computer off the rear seat and opened it on her lap. “We investigate her family tree. If she’s related to one of the remaining founding fathers, we know we’re onto something.”
Wyatt loosened his grip on the steering wheel, happy to have a plan of action. “Damn, you’re smart.”
Her laughter was whipped away by the wind blowing through the open car. “My brain is by far the best legacy I inherited from my parents. A hell of a lot more useful than that spoon.”
He grimaced. “No kidding. I’m beginning to believe they’re all cursed.”
Chapter Sixteen
President Cox walked beside Alan Vickers in the rose garden. The day was steaming hot, and sweat dampened his shirt beneath his suit coat, sticking the fine cotton to his back. He was only vaguely aware of his discomfort as he focused on what the attorney general was saying.
“So, the man Brower hired to eliminate Wyatt Stone wound up dead, and both Stone and the woman, Talia Davis, walked away without a scratch.” His tone was ominous, but he refrained from shouting that he was surrounded by incompetent fools. Especially his chief of staff who had failed to get the job done yet again.
“Yes, but there were extenuating circumstances.”
“Such as?” He kicked a small rock, sending it into a rosebush. Yellow petals rained down.
“A sniper was up on the roof of the winery. He made one hell of a shot from a quarter mile distance. The man Brower recruited got into the vineyard with a tour group and expected to slip away during the confusion after he made the hit. He obviously didn’t account for a sharpshooter on the scene.”
“Stone hired a sniper as a bodyguard?” The president’s voice rose, sounding whiny even to his own ears. “And what’s this crap Brower mentioned about Davis being attacked and someone getting arrested? I couldn’t make sense of it before he left for a meeting.”
“We’ve been trying to sort out what happened. Apparently, the other party who wants to kill this story and get those spoons sent someone to Sonoma before we did. A man tried to grab Davis while she was out running. Stone kicked his ass, and he was arrested but isn’t talking.”
“And we still don’t know who’s screwing us over with their interference? What the hell kind of intel do we have?” A vein throbbed at his temple, and his vision blurred as he clenched his fists.
“I’m working on it, but without involving official channels, it’s not that easy. I’ve also been researching the Davis woman. Turns out she works for a private black ops type organization called Counterstrike. The group rescues kidnapping victims, and the people they recruit have some serious training and skills. My guess is the sniper is also a member of her team.”
“Shit.”
“Exactly. The good news is we know where Stone will turn up next. Our source on the crew overheard him talking about an auction in the D.C. area where another spoon is being sold. We’ll have someone in place to get that damned spoon. I’m as fed up with the incompetence as you are.”
Cox eyed him steadily. “Doubtful. Seriously doubtful.”
* * * *
Senator Gamble’s gut twisted into a knot as she faced the detective standing on the other side of her desk. Her very real fear that everything she’d worked tirelessly to achieve might go down in flames was perfectly masked. Outwardly, she knew she looked as cool and composed as always. Because in politics, you either developed a poker face or got out of the game.
“I don’t believe Jill is involved in some nefarious plot, detective. She mentioned getting upsetting calls when her personal number was leaked to the public. I can only assume that’s why she bought a burner phone. A temporary measure until she dealt with her carrier.”
The detective’s lips tightened slightly. “That’s her story.”
“At any rate, I’ve no connection to Wyatt Stone, although I do watch his show occasionally. Who did you say this woman is?”
“Talia Davis.” The detective ground out the name through gritted teeth.
“No. I’m positive Jill has never mentioned her. Why on earth would my advisor pay some man to harm a person she doesn’t even know?”
“That’s what we’re trying to determine.”
“Seems far more likely the thief who stole her phone is the one you should be questioning. Didn’t the man who attacked the Davis woman tell you who paid him?”
“He isn’t talking. Got himself a high-priced attorney who told him to keep his mouth shut.”
Relief flowed through her, but she maintained her carefully cultivated demeanor. “That’s a real shame.” Rising from her seat, she walked around her desk. “I’m sorry I can’t shed any light on the situation, but you’re going to have to excuse me since I have a meeting scheduled.”
“Thank you for your time, Senator Gamble.” He turned and strode out of the office.
Deirdre shut the door with a soft click and slumped against it. “Jesus.”
On the other side of the office, the door to her private library opened, and Jill stepped into the room. “You handled that detective very well.”
“Damn right. Doesn’t mean I’m happy to have been questioned by the D.C. police.” She narrowed her eyes. “You know they’ll keep looking for a connection between you and Stillman.”
Jill clenched her hands together in front of her. “I’ve made certain the payments to Mr. Stillman and his lawyer are completely untraceable. For the kind of cash we’re giving him, he’s not going to talk and will likely get off on a minor assault charge.”
“I can’t afford another mistake. Any hint of scandal will ruin my chances at the nomination, even if the charges don’t stick.”
“There won’t be another mistake.”
“Just the same, maybe it’s time to step back and simply let Stone reveal that document on air. Afterward, I can come forward with my spoon. The news may not have the timing and impact I’d hoped for from a big reveal on my own terms, but the danger of getting caught outweighs—” She broke off and frowned as Jill read something on her phone and typed rapidly in response. “Are you even listening to me?”
The other woman glanced up. “That was my source. Stone is on his way to D.C. Jefferson’s spoon is being auctioned off in one of the Virginia suburbs on Friday.”
She stared at her friend as various scenarios played through her mind. “I want it. Put a bidder in place, or better yet, go yourself. Pay whatever it takes to get the damn thing. No violence this time. If we can collect more of the remaining spoons, I can approach Stone and make his story all about me. Maybe even convince him to hold off on airing the series until closer to the first primaries. We can still make this work to my advantage.”
Jill gave an abrupt nod. “Whatever you say, Dee.”
* * * *
Talia grabbed her suitcase from the carousel in the luggage area and gave Wyatt a nudge. “There’s yours. Want me to get it for you?”
He shoved his phone in his pocket. “No.” Reaching for his bag, he set it on the tile floor and flashed a quick smile. “Sorry I was distracted.”
“Who’s been texting you, anyway?” She led the way through the throng of travelers toward the car rental counters and got in line.
“That last one was from Lindsey. She found a new job. She also cashed in an old investment that was worth more than she thought. So now she’s headed to Seattle to pick up her son and expects a battle with her in-laws.”
“Interesting.” Talia inched forward in the line. “And she was texting you because . . .”
“She wanted to get together for a little moral support before the confrontation.”
Picturing Wyatt with his ex-girlfriend, having an intimate conversation over a candlelit dinner, set her teeth on edge. “Of course she did.”
“I told her earlier I was flying to D.C. for an auction and wouldn’t be home for a couple of days. She just texted to let me know her flight leaves tomorrow so she’ll have to forgo an in-person pep talk.”
Talia stepped
up to the counter and smiled at the young woman behind the desk. After giving her the reservation information, she handed over both their driver’s licenses and a credit card. “Gee, that’s too bad.”
Wyatt slipped an arm around her waist and squeezed. “You sound real broken up about it.”
She glanced at him and smiled. “Are my claws showing?”
“Only a little.”
When the clerk pushed a form across the counter, she signed her name and took the keys. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” The woman ran through her standard parting spiel in record time. “The shuttle will drop you off at the car lot. Head out through that door, and enjoy your stay in our nation’s capital.”
“We’ll certainly try.” Wyatt trundled his suitcase along behind her.
A few minutes later, they boarded the shuttle with a dozen other passengers. When the bus pulled up to the curb with a screech of breaks, they got off and found their vehicle in the slot designated on the contract.
Talia opened the door and popped the trunk on the Mustang. “I went for the sports model instead of a standard sedan.”
He lifted both bags into the trunk, slammed the lid, and held out his hand. “Can I drive?”
“I guess so.” She slapped the keys onto his palm. “Do you know where we’re going?”
“To check in at the hotel in Alexandria. Afterward, can we get some dinner? It’s almost seven, and despite the time change, I’m ravenous.”
“I could definitely eat. We skipped lunch somewhere over the Midwest. Then, I want to dig back into my research. I was making progress while I was on the plane.”
“What kind of progress?” After they both got in and shut the doors, he started the engine and pulled out of the lot.
“I think I found an illegitimate relative linked to Alexander Hamilton on Senator Gamble’s family tree. A cousin of hers did a DNA test that had common markers with a descendant of a maid that worked for the man.”
He pulled up at a stoplight and stared at her. “How the hell did you figure that out?”
“I hacked into a couple of the genetic databases. I’ve been working on this pretty steadily for quite a while now. It’s about damn time I caught a break.”
“I noticed.”
She turned in her seat. “I guess I’ve been ignoring pretty much everything but my work since we left the vineyard.”
He rolled his eyes. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”
“You sort of are.” She reached over and patted his knee. “I tend to be laser-focused when I have a project. Once we have proof that the senator—”
“What do you intend to do? Even if she has a spoon and is descended from Alexander Hamilton, there’s still no proof she sent the man who tried to grab you in the vineyard. Or the guy GQ shot during the interview. Or the one who took pot-shots at you from the beach. I could go on and on.”
“Someone has orchestrated a pretty extensive network of thugs from Boston to New York to California. A person with influence and connections.” She stared out at the bustling city streets of Alexandria as Wyatt navigated toward their hotel in Old Town.
“Deirdre Gamble is a powerful woman in D.C. She’s not going to simply roll over if we confront her.” He stomped the brake and laid on the horn when a Mercedes cut him off. “If we can get close enough to speak to her, which is doubtful. Wolf told you the cops already questioned her about her advisor and the man they arrested. My guess is they won’t push the issue with a woman like her without solid proof.”
“Then we’ll have to provide it, and I still think Jill Erickson is the key. The police searched her home and office for the burner phone she bought. Just because they didn’t find it, doesn’t mean there isn’t incriminating evidence in her possession. I’d kill for an hour with her laptop.”
“Jesus, Talia. Are you talking about breaking into her home?” He pulled up in front of the small, historic hotel where they had a reservation. “Not that we know where she lives.”
“Child’s play. I found your house, didn’t I? Anyway, it might be worth the risk.” When an older gentleman in a gray uniform opened her door, she stepped out beneath the opulent porte-cochère. “This place is gorgeous.”
“I’ve stayed here before.” Wyatt popped the trunk and handed the keys to the teenaged attendant who hurried up to his side of the car. “I like the ambiance in an old hotel better than the modern chains.”
The porter grinned broadly. “The Sanctuary certainly has atmosphere. Even a restless spirit or two.”
“Hear that, Talia?” His voice was filled with enthusiasm. “Ghosts.”
She rolled her eyes. “Just what we need.”
“I’ll take those bags for you, sir. You and your beautiful lady can head straight to the front desk.”
They checked in with the friendly clerk, took a peek into the quiet bar off the main lobby, then rode the elevator up to the fourth floor. With a series of creaks and groans, it rocked to a stop, and the doors slid open.
“We’re down the hall to the right.” When they reached the room, Wyatt slid the key card into the slot and opened the door with a flourish. “After you.”
Talia crossed the carpet, passing their bags which already rested beside the king-size bed, and went straight to the window with a view of the Potomac River stretching beyond the edge of the city. Lights glittered in the dark, and the faint sounds of traffic rose from the street below. “Stunning.”
He slid his arms around her as she leaned back against him. “Want to order room service so you can get back to work?”
She turned her back on the view to face him. “No. Let’s go out tonight and enjoy ourselves. You’ve been really patient with me the last couple of days while we were in Santa Monica.”
“Hey, you’re working toward a common goal. I appreciate your dedication since I’m the one who dragged you into this situation to begin with. And I got to spend some quality time with Bree while you were busy.”
“I’m happy about that, but I think we both need a break. We have the auction tomorrow morning. After that, we’ll nail down evidence against the senator.”
“Let’s hope. Do you want to change before we go eat?”
She nodded. “I feel gross after spending all day in airports and on planes. Flying commercially sucks.”
He released her and stepped back. “I guess you and your team take private flights.”
“We don’t have any time to waste when an innocent victim is waiting to be rescued.”
“I imagine not.” He waved toward the connecting bath. “Shower if you want.”
“I’ll be quick.”
Twenty minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom, feeling refreshed, her hair hanging down her back in artfully styled beach waves, and wearing a red dress that showed a lot of leg.
Wyatt’s eyes widened, but he kept talking on his cell. “Yeah, I’ll bid on it for you. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you when I get back.” He slid his phone into his jacket pocket and let out a low whistle. “You look amazing.”
“Thanks.” She pulled a pair of black heels out of her suitcase and stepped into them. “You clean up pretty well, too.”
He’d changed into charcoal slacks with a pale blue dress shirt and a casual blazer. Apparently, he’d shaved at the sink in the tiny kitchenette because his jaw was smooth and hard, and he smelled so good she wanted to taste him.
When he stepped in close and bent to drop a kiss on her lips, she inhaled deeply and slid her fingers along the side of his face. “Nice.”
A spark flared in his eyes. “Are you sure you want to go out?”
“Positive.” A soft laugh escaped. “Anticipation will only make it better.”
“I’ll definitely be anticipating.” He placed a warm palm in the center of her back and guided her toward the door. “Let’s do this.”
In the elevator, she pushed the button for the lobby and stepped back as the doors slid shut. The car began its shuddering descent. “M
aybe we should take the stairs next time.”
He grinned. “I thought you liked to live dangerously.”
“Not if I don’t have any control.” When they jolted to a stop and the doors creaked open, she took his arm as they walked across the lobby. “Who were you talking to earlier? I heard you say you’re bidding on something?”
“A teapot that’s being auctioned a couple of lots before our spoon. Kaitlyn has a collection and says she simply has to have that particular one.”
Talia gave him an incredulous look. “You told the woman you used to date, who, I might add, could be the one feeding information to Jill Erickson, that we’re going to the auction?”
“No, Rita did. I guess it came up in conversation. Kaitlyn called me. Would she have done that if she was guilty of trying to set us up?”
“If she wanted to verify your plans, she might.”
With a nod to the porter, they stepped out onto the sidewalk and turned left, dodging a group of young people standing in front of a bar. “I’m not an idiot. I didn’t tell her anything she didn’t already know.”
“Nothing?”
“Not a thing.” He stopped walking and frowned. “She did ask if the cool bartender with the dreadlocks and all the wild stories was still working at the hotel.”
Talia closed her eyes and took a breath to keep from shouting. “Smooth. Very smooth. How did you answer?”
“That we hadn’t been in the bar yet.”
“So, she knows where we’re staying.” Her tone was flat. “You mentioned you’d been to The Sanctuary before. I’m guessing for a work trip?”
He nodded. “Last year.”
“She was probably fishing for information.”
“If she wanted to confirm where we were staying, getting the information wouldn’t have been that hard.” He moved out of the way of an older couple. “Do you think another assassin is going to murder us while we sleep?”
“No, because I’m going to stay awake. I’ll be ready if anyone shows up. This could turn into an opportunity to get some answers.”
He didn’t respond, simply continued up the street and pulled open the door to a brightly lit restaurant. At the hostess stand, he smiled at the woman who gave them an enquiring look.
Ominous Legacy (Counterstrike Book 4) Page 21