Ominous Legacy (Counterstrike Book 4)

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Ominous Legacy (Counterstrike Book 4) Page 24

by Jannine Gallant


  “If he’s descended from one of the seven, maybe he feels like the document will tarnish his family name.”

  That’s a possibility, but we’re just guessing.” She took a bite of her sandwich, set it down, and opened her laptop on the table. “Let’s see who was doing the bidding today.”

  Wyatt finished his lunch and called Bree. Listening to her enthusiastic recounting of her second-place finish in this week’s cross-country race made his chest ache with regret for not being there to cheer her on. Knowing if he wanted to spend time with Talia, missing events in his daughter’s life would be an all too frequent occurrence. And that wasn’t something he was willing to give up, especially since his work also made unavoidable demands on his time.

  His heart hurt as he studied Talia’s intent face while her fingers flew over the keyboard. Every now and then a frown drew her brows together, and occasionally she remembered to take a quick bite of her sandwich. All her attention was focused on the job at hand. As it should be. Any distraction in her line of work could prove deadly. But as much as he cared about her…

  Who am I kidding? Love. I freaking love the woman.

  She’d crashed into his life like a tidal wave, throwing his emotions into chaos in a matter of days. Giving him a taste of what had been missing in his life. He pressed a hand to his chest to ease the ache. Knowing he would have to say goodbye when this was over was tearing him up inside. Because he was absolutely certain long distance wouldn’t be enough for either of them.

  All he could do now was enjoy the time they had left.

  “You okay?”

  “Huh?” He blinked and focused on Talia’s quizzical expression.

  “You looked like you were in pain. I thought maybe your sandwich didn’t agree with you.”

  “I finished mine hours ago. Unlike you.” He eyed the remains of her half-eaten lunch. “You’ve been lost in your own world.”

  “A total waste of my time, unfortunately.” She scrunched up her nose. “No buyer was listed on the transaction. Just a bank account. I traced the payment for the spoon to a shell company. There’s no way to find out who’s behind it.”

  “Well, shit.”

  “Exactly.”

  “The record may have been sterilized, but the auctioneer’s helper wasn’t talking to an anonymous corporation. The caller gave her a name that got both her and her boss pretty damn excited.”

  “True. I wonder if we could convince either the assistant or the old guy running the show to tell us who bought that spoon.” She eyed him critically. “Middle-aged women seem to have a thing for you, so I say we try the lady first.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Way to make me feel ancient.”

  A smile tilted her lips. “Young women think you’re hot, too. I’m living proof of that.”

  “Good to know.” He got up and walked over to plant his hands on her shoulders. When she looked up, he bent to kiss her, taking his time. Enjoying the moment.

  Her breathing was a little faster when she finally pulled away. “Let me check the employee records for the auction house. I should be able to find a home address.”

  “It’s getting fairly late. If we want to be on time for our meeting with the senator . . .”

  “This shouldn’t take long.”

  He backed away and glanced at his phone when it dinged. A text from Gretchen.

  Rita wants to know if you got the spoon.

  He texted back a brief account of the afternoon’s events. Moments later, his cell dinged like a winning slot machine. Wincing at the barrage of messages—directly from Rita this time—he responded that they were on their way to Capitol Hill to get an even bigger story.

  Explain!

  He typed rapidly. No time. Will call tomorrow.

  Talia shut her laptop, slipped it into its case, and rose to her feet. “The woman, Sheila Knowles, lives in Leesburg. We can drive straight there after talking to the senator.”

  “Good.” He turned off his phone and stuck it in his pocket. “Let’s go.”

  It only took a few minutes to retrieve their rental car and get on the road. Traffic going toward D.C. wasn’t too horrible, and they reached the Capitol Mall area and parked with ten minutes to spare.

  “Where’s Senator Grant’s office?” He hit the remote to lock the car as they hurried toward the parking garage exit.

  “In the Russell building.”

  They took a side street to Constitution Avenue and climbed the steps to the entrance, dodging workers leaving the building. When a tall, blond man turned toward them, Wyatt’s step faltered.

  “Wolf is here.”

  A smile lit up Riley’s face as he approached. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

  “I thought a little backup wouldn’t hurt, and I was in the neighborhood.” He bypassed the check point. “I signed us in already. Dad just called to let me know Senator Gamble and Jill Erickson arrived at his office a minute ago.”

  Talia ran up the stairs at his side. “Sorry we cut it so close. I was trying to track down the person who outbid us for Jefferson’s soon, and time got away from me.”

  “Did you find a name?”

  “No, but we hope to pry one out of the auctioneer’s assistant later this evening. I’m a little sick of people shooting at us and would like to get some damn answers.”

  He gave her a sharp look but didn’t respond, simply held open the door to a second-floor office and waved them inside.

  An older man with silver hair who resembled his son greeted them with a smile. “Good to see you again, Luna.”

  “You, too, sir.” She shook his outstretched hand. “I’d like you to meet my friend, Wyatt Stone. Wyatt, this is Senator Grant.”

  “Call me John.” The two men shook hands. “My wife and I watch your show.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, sir. Thanks for arranging this meeting for us.”

  “Glad to help. Dierdre and Jill are in the conference room next door. Right this way.”

  Wolf opened the door to a dark-paneled room with a large oak table at its center. The two women rose from padded chairs as they entered.

  Dierdre Gamble wore a navy suit and an intense expression. Her hazel gaze slid over Talia and came to rest on Wyatt as she waved a hand. “No need for introductions, John. I’m familiar with Mr. Stone’s television program.” She resumed her seat. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?”

  “By all means.” Wyatt held a chair for Talia, while Wolf closed the door behind his father and leaned against it.

  “You indicated you’re interested in having me appear on your show?” The senator’s tone was cool and professional. “I must say, I’m flattered.”

  It was all Wyatt could do not to slap the fixed smile off this bitch’s face. “I figured an exclusive interview was the least you could do after sending your hirelings to trash Talia’s apartment and rough her up, shoot at her in Santa Monica, and attack her in the vineyard. All in an attempt to add to your spoon collection. Am I forgetting anything?”

  Her smile faltered and faded.

  “The woman at Bedford House.” Talia folded her hands on the table. “She waved a gun at me when I got to John Jay’s spoon before she did, but since she paid for her mistake with her life, I guess we won’t count that one.”

  Gamble pushed back her chair, a hint of fear registering in her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I don’t intend to sit here and be insulted.” She turned to her colleague. “John, I can’t believe you’d condone these attacks.”

  Senator Grant eyed her steadily. “You should probably listen to what they have to say, Deirdre.”

  “Sit down, Senator.” Wolf spoke quietly from his position by the door. “Keep in mind we have evidence to back up these assertions.”

  “What sort of evidence? Some lineage chart that shows I’m related to Alexander Hamilton?” Her nostrils flared slightly. “It’s true, I have a spoon, but I certainly haven’t committed any crimes.”

  “
Our evidence is a little more substantial—a series of incriminating emails between you and Ms. Erickson.” Talia eyed the silent woman. “They’re more difficult to wipe clean from your hard drive than you think. Don’t worry. I made copies.”

  “How did you—” Jill Erickson broke off and bit her lip. “Without a search warrant, nothing you claim you found will be allowed into evidence.”

  “There are more ways than one to be tried, Senator.” Wyatt didn’t even attempt to keep the satisfaction out of his voice. “The court of public opinion has derailed more than one successful career.”

  She gripped the table and leaned forward. “Are you threatening me?”

  Wolf cleared his throat. “I have a friend in the FBI who would be very interested in those emails—despite how they were obtained. You might keep that in mind while you listen to Wyatt’s proposal.”

  “What do you want, Mr. Stone?” Her voice slashed through the silence.

  He covered Talia’s clenched fist with his palm. “We want you to drop out of the presidential race. I’d like nothing better than to see you locked up for orchestrating this freaking nightmare, but your criminal behavior is sure to taint the entire party and adversely influence the upcoming election. Instead, you can make up whatever excuse you choose for retiring from public life.”

  “Are you insane?”

  “Not in the least.” Talia raised her voice to be heard over the woman’s shrill protest. “I intend to keep those emails in a secure location with instructions to release them to the press if anything happens to someone in this room, so don’t get any ideas.”

  “I don’t believe one word you have to say. There’s no evidence of any crime.” The senator faced her advisor, her entire body quivering. “Jill? This is all just a bunch of crap, isn’t it?”

  “You have a lovely cat, Ms. Erickson.” Talia leaned back in her chair. “However, leaving a downstairs window open to let him come and go probably isn’t smart.”

  The woman’s face lost most of its color. “Don’t be too hasty, Dee. They may have something.”

  “You can leave D.C. with a bang or a whimper, Senator. Your choice.” Wyatt stared at her through narrowed eyes. “You’ll be featured on No Stone Unturned to tell your story about Hamilton’s spoon, officially drop out of the presidential race, and announce your retirement from public life. Or you can ignore this opportunity and risk a life behind bars.” He turned his attention to Jill Erickson. “You’re finished, too. If either of you ever attempts to revive your careers, you’ll both wind up in prison, and that’s a promise.”

  “I’m not the only one who’s been trying to kill your story.” Gamble’s lips clamped together in a tight line.

  “We’re well aware there’s a second party involved.” Talia gave an abrupt nod. “He . . . or she . . . won’t go unpunished. Not after trying to kill us both.”

  “Is there anything I can say to convince you—”

  “Not a chance.” Wyatt pushed to his feet. “My producer will contact you about filming your story. We’ll air it live within the next few weeks, so get your shit together, Senator, and be ready to leave town immediately.”

  “You’re making a huge mistake.” Her voice rose in a screech. “I would have been the best thing to ever happen to this country.”

  Talia snorted. “If that were true, the nation really is in desperate straits.”

  “One more thing.” Wyatt balled his hands at his sides as he faced her advisor. “Who was your source, Ms. Erickson? Who fed you information, Kaitlyn Rice or Lindsey McBride?”

  “What are you talking about? I’ve never heard of either of those women.”

  “Don’t play stupid.” Talia’s tone was harsh. “We know someone close to Wyatt was tipping you off.”

  Her sharp gaze turned speculative. “What’s it worth to you to have a name?”

  John Grant surged to his feet. “I suggest you answer their question, Jill, or I’ll personally make your life extremely uncomfortable.”

  She reared back in her chair. “I’m not lying. I’ve never been in contact with either woman.”

  “You babysat Lindsey when you were in high school, and Kaitlyn was a member of a summer student program you ran here in D.C. fifteen years ago,” Talia spoke quietly.

  “Good God. No wonder I don’t recognize their names.” When Wolf stepped away from the door, she brought her palms down hard on the table. “Fine. I dated a woman briefly years ago when I lived in Southern California. She agreed to provide me with information about your schedule. However, she didn’t have anything to do with the attacks on you and did nothing illegal by talking to me.”

  “Who?” Wyatt bit off the word.

  “Gretchen Berry.”

  Talia frowned. “I didn’t find any connection between the two of you when I looked into her background.”

  “We were discrete and didn’t advertise our relationship or post it all over social media.”

  “Did you pay her to turn on me?” Wyatt asked. “How much?”

  “Nothing. Everything isn’t always about you, Mr. Stone. Gretchen is tired of being Rita Chen’s personal slave.” Jill lifted one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “She was planning to give notice, anyway. I assume this news will expedite that decision.”

  Wyatt’s gut burned, knowing someone he’d liked and respected had betrayed his trust. But at least neither Lindsey nor Kaitlyn had set him up. For that, he was thankful. “Do we have an agreement?”

  The senator nodded. “You leave me no choice. But you knew that coming into this meeting.”

  “Then we’re finished here.”

  Wolf opened the conference room door. “Have a nice evening, ladies.”

  After the two women filed out into the hall, Wyatt let out a long breath. “That went smoothly.”

  “You had all your ducks in a row.” John Grant smiled. “Deirdre was right. She really has no choice but to cooperate. I’ll be interested to see what sort of excuses she comes up with for retiring.”

  “I’m sure she’ll make herself look like a shining example of patriotism.” He ran a hand through his hair in a jerky gesture. “Letting her walk is a hard pill to swallow, but I don’t want her to sink the whole party by association. I can only imagine how Cox would spin the truth on the campaign trail.”

  Talia grimaced. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be pretty. Let’s go. We want to get to Sheila Knowles home at a reasonable hour to sweet talk her into giving up some answers.” She turned to the senator. “Thank you for expediting the meeting. I appreciate it.”

  “My pleasure.”

  She glanced at her colleague. “Are you walking out with us?”

  Wolf shook his head. “Arden and my mother should be here shortly. She flew down with me for a little family time with my folks.”

  “Tell her I said hi. How’s she doing?”

  A smile stretched his lean cheeks. “She says she feels like a whale and can’t wait to have this baby, but we still have a couple of months to go.”

  “Congratulations.” Wyatt gave him a high five as he followed Talia from the room. “Being a dad is the best.”

  A hint of sadness flickered in his eyes. “I know. I can’t wait until our daughter is born.” He rested a hand on Talia’s shoulder. “Give me a call when you’ve handled this situation. I have a few new plans for Counterstrike I’d like to discuss with you before you head back to Boston.”

  She paused and turned. “Do you want to talk—”

  “We don’t have time for an in-depth conversation at the moment, but I think the changes I have in mind will be a very good thing. For now, just focus on nailing the bastard who’s harassing you.”

  “Thanks, Wolf. We’re getting close—very close. Soon, we’ll flush this lunatic out, and it will all be over.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Talia tapped on the car window and gave Wyatt a thumbs up. He said something she couldn’t hear through the glass and pocketed his phone before opening the door.

&
nbsp; “All clear?”

  She nodded. “The neighborhood is quiet. I didn’t really expect any trouble, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful. Who were you talking to?”

  “Rita.” They followed the walkway up to the wide porch of the modest Leesburg home. “She lost it when I told her about Gretchen. I had to cut her off, but she’s probably still swearing.”

  “I bet.”

  Talia rang the bell and retreated to stand beside him. After a moment, the outdoor lights flashed on, and a curtain in what she assumed was the living room twitched. Slowly, the front door swung inward, and a middle-aged man wearing baggy shorts and a white undershirt appeared in the opening.

  A frown drew his bushy brows together. “If you’re selling something or trying to convert me, I’m not interested.”

  Wyatt took one step forward. “Actually, Mr. Knowles, we’re here to speak to your wife. I’m Wyatt Stone from the television show No Stone Unturned, and this is my friend, Talia Davis. We were at the auction in Alexandria earlier today, and I was hoping Mrs. Knowles could answer a question for me. I promise, we’re harmless and not selling anything.”

  “Oh, my goodness, George.” Sheila Knowles pushed in beside her husband. Her eyes widened in a face scrubbed free of makeup. “Wyatt Stone on our doorstep. Imagine that!”

  “We’re sorry to bother you so late in the evening.” Talia offered what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “We won’t take up much of your time.”

  “Don’t worry about that. It’s only eight, and we weren’t doing anything but watching TV.” The woman pulled the door farther open. “Come on in. How can I help you?”

  “I don’t know, Sheila—”

  “Hush, now, George. I told you I saw Mr. Stone at the auction, just like he said. We get celebrities at these things every now and then.”

  “We can talk out here on the porch if you prefer.” Talia spoke quickly when the man seemed ready to protest again.

  Sheila nodded. “Fine. It’s a nice evening, and there aren’t too many bugs. Take a seat on the glider and tell me why you looked me up.”

 

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