by Ciana Stone
"Who are you taking?"
"I wasn't invited."
"Then why was I?"
"Don't know, but count yourself special, my friend. The way I hear it, Senator Walker and his wife, the AG will be in attendance to do a little campaigning."
"I'm not really into that kind of thing."
"Well, you should get into it. Good for the career, you know. And what can it hurt to shake the hand of the man who just may beat POTUS out of the GOP nomination? You could be getting your face known by the next President."
John considered it. In Washington, it was always good to see and be seen, but the Bureau made a point of standing apart from politics and by mandate had to be non-partisan. He didn't know whether it was a benefit or detriment to be affiliated with anyone in government and said as much.
"Maybe, but like I said, the AG will be there, and that's always a good contact."
John couldn't disagree on that. He didn't have anyone in mind he'd want to ask as his plus one, but then there was nothing wrong with going alone. He'd give it some thought later. Right now, all he wanted was to get to the evidence in the Maddox case and prove that it had not been tampered with and there was no possibility of a break in the chain of custody.
After that? Well, after that, he had plenty to occupy his mind. Like what he was going to do about The Hood.
Chapter Five
Washington, D.C.
"I'm not really in the mood, Mom," Amber said as she stirred her coffee. She looked across the table at Naomie as she spoke into her Bluetooth. "I just got home, and I don't have a lot of time before my next assignment."
"I'm quite certain you can spare an evening, Amber."
Amber had to give props to her mother, the Attorney General of the United States. She could deliver a tone that had almost superhuman strength. Many times as a child, Amber had imagined that tone of voice either turning her into a block of ice or completely disintegrating her.
"Fine, I'll go."
"I'm sure your father will appreciate it. Shall I arrange for an escort?"
"Can't I just tag along with you and Dad?"
"I suppose."
"Then it's a date."
Sharon Redmond Walker sighed loud enough to be heard in the Bluetooth earpiece. "We'll leave promptly at seven. Please be ready on time."
"Yes, ma'am." It did little good to remind her mother that she was a grown woman. Her mother was accustomed to hearing the syllables "yes ma'am" fall from peoples' lips. She was in a position of power and wallowed in it covetously.
Not that it bothered Amber. She admired her mother's strength and ambition every bit as much as she did her father, who might well win the nomination from his party to run for President.
Her parents were what might be called "movers and shakers," and she applauded their devotion, tenacity, and determination. Because she had chosen against following in their footsteps, she was something of a disappointment. But, despite all, they loved her and tried to be supportive.
"So, your mother talked you into attending some event you don't want to attend, eh?" Naomie got up to freshen her coffee.
"Do you have any idea how much I hate going to these things? What're you doing this evening?"
"I'd planned on getting up with the grandson of a friend in Cotton Creek, but he had plans, so I think I'm just going to take a bubble bath and play sex games with your uncle on Facetime."
"Oh ewuuueeee, I did not need to hear that," Amber shuddered dramatically and made a face.
Naomie laughed. "Scoff if you will, but the man has moves and oh my god does he know how to–"
"No, no, no, oh god no," Amber covered her ears.
Naomie laughed. "Okay, fine. So what are you wearing to this shindig?"
"I don't know. Let's go look."
They finished their coffee and headed upstairs to go through her closet for something to wear to the gala. As she pulled out dresses, she and Naomie talked about the people who would be there.
"Well, maybe you'll get lucky, and there'll be some new faces in the crowd. Who knows, you could find someone interesting to talk to, or maybe even a handsome stranger to indulge in some harmless flirtation."
"If only I could be so lucky," Amber tossed the final selection on the bed. "But I'm not going to get any attention in any of this. What I need is something…"
"Glowing," Naomie interrupted. "Something all golden or bronze that glimmers or shines. Something slinky and seductive, yet still within the confines of good taste, but something guaranteed to make every man there sport wood just looking at you."
"Yes, that dress," Amber agreed with a laugh. "You want to go shopping?"
"Hell yes."
"Then let's do it." Amber grabbed her purse, and they headed out. She gave Naomie a one-armed hug as they walked outside. "I'm so glad you're here."
"Me too. Now, where are we going to spend all your money?"
Amber laughed and stepped over to the sidewalk and raised her hand to hail a cab. Less than a minute later, they were on their way.
*****
John got out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist, walked over to the vanity, and wiped a hand across the fogged surface of the mirror. The past week had been exhausting. He, Tom and two other agents had gone through the evidence logs half a dozen times, interviewed every officer, forensic technician, prosecutor, evidence clerk, and even the police chief, and sure enough, the cleaver had been signed out by a forensic technician to perform a DNA test. It was checked out for three days, even though the technician argued that he had returned it the same day, and the evidence clerk backed him up and swore she had been with the technician when the cleaver was returned to evidence storage.
Yet it was not logged back in until two days later.
There were a lot of furious people above his pay grade, and when those in high places got angry, those on the lower rungs suffered. John didn't feel that his position was in peril, but he pitied the technician and evidence clerk. Right now, the only hope was that the prosecutor could convince the judge that the chain of custody could not take precedence over the preponderance of evidence tying Maddox to the crimes.
John had his fingers crossed, and at this point, that was all he could do.
He'd finished his part this afternoon, filed his reports and made it home in time to take a shower and get ready for the event at the Smithsonian, an evening he'd committed to and regretted.
Right now, a few beers, pizza and television sounded good. But he'd agreed to do this, so he'd be as good as his word. Besides, he hadn't heard from the Hood the past week and was starting to think she'd lost interest and moved on to tormenting some other poor schmuck.
The resentment that spawned was actually a bit helpful. He was starting to refocus and tell himself that she'd played him to keep him off balance. And she'd succeeded. No telling what she'd been up to while she was leading him around by his dick. He hated to even think about it.
The only bright spot in that dark tableau was that no one knew he'd been with her or had any communication with her. Now he just had to find a way to get reassigned because he couldn't take a chance on her getting caught and ratting him out.
That thought didn't bring a smile to his face. In fact, it reminded him that he'd screwed up royally with her and would be damn lucky not to get busted for it. It was time for him to get back to being the man he'd wanted to be when he joined the Bureau.
Determined to get back on that track, starting now, he shaved, brushed his teeth and hair and dug his tux out of the closet. Ten minutes later, he gave himself a once over in the mirror. No heartthrob, but he'd seen worse.
With hopes that tonight wouldn't prove to be as boring as watching paint dry, he left the apartment and headed for the heart of the city.
*****
Amber excused herself and walked outside. The event was being held in the Smithsonian Castle and outside of it was one of Ambers favorite places in Washington, the Enid A. Haupt Garden.
&
nbsp; She stopped once she was outside, slipped off her heels, and hiked up her dress so she could hold it aloft while she walked. Music and the sound of voices filtered out from the building, disrupting the quiet, so she headed for what she considered the most special area of the four acres, the Moongate Garden.
Amber had always loved the way the Moongate garden was hidden between the Smithsonian Castle and the Sackler Gallery. To her, it was like stepping into a place of magic. She'd spent many hours as a child, and still enjoyed it as an adult.
Just as she stepped through the Moongate, she noticed a man standing on what was the centerpiece of the garden, a black granite pool with a small pink granite island. He stood in the center of the island, staring down at the dark water.
She considered turning around and leaving him to his solitude, but she had no desire to go back inside. She'd had her fill of small talk and champagne. So, she continued to the center of the island, walked up behind the man and turned her back to him. Tired of carrying her shoes, she bent over to put them on the ground so she could slide her feet into them.
John was surprised when he turned around and was confronted with an enticing rear end, encased in shimmering gold fabric. The woman was bent over, putting on her shoes. When she straightened and let her dress settle around her legs, he let his gaze travel over her form.
Of average height, she was not a big woman, but neither was she one of the stick women he saw more and more on the street, those androgynous creatures that seemed bent on eradicating every curve of femininity they possessed.
Not this woman. She had curves the likes of which made a man's thoughts turn to getting his hands on her and her legs around him. Her hair was a tousled fall of honey blonde that gleamed in the dim light.
She turned, and when their gazes met, her eyes widened slightly for just a moment. Then she smiled. "Sorry to interrupt your solitude. I just needed to escape the noise for a bit."
"Same here."
She nodded and looked away, giving him a chance to study her face. He couldn't determine her age, but he'd guess that she was no more than thirty-two or three. Her lips were full and lush, her eyes light, perhaps green or hazel and her face was one a man would not soon forget.
Like her breasts. It almost made his hands itch to touch her. The gold fabric stretched over her breasts, clinging like a glove, then fell in a shimmering wave over her torso and hips.
The term wet dream came to mind. John had always been a sucker for the pin-up babes of the past. Marilyn Monroe, Rita Hayworth, Bridget Bardot. Now those were women that a man wanted to get hold of and hang on for a good long time.
She suddenly turned her head to look at him again. "Have you visited the gardens before?"
"Honestly, no. It's pretty incredible, and I can't say I expected anything like this."
She nodded. "Most don't. It surprises a lot of people, and even more when they learn who was behind its creation."
"Oh? Who was that?"
"Enid Anneburg Haupt."
"I don't recognize the name." Actually, he had heard it somewhere, but he liked the sound of her voice and wanted to keep her talking. "Tell me about her."
"Well, she was from a publishing family. Her father Moses started by publishing a small racing form. When her brother grew up, he expanded the family business to include publications that became mainstays of American life, like Seventeen Magazine and TV Guide. Enid actually edited and published Seventeen later on in her life."
"Interesting. It's a beautiful place."
"It is." She turned her head slightly as strains from a popular song filtered out. "Sounds like the guest performer has taken the stage. I've always loved that song."
"Would you like to dance?" he asked.
"Why, sir, I don't even know your name."
"I'm John."
"And I'm Amber."
"Fitting." He spoke without thinking.
"Pardon."
John didn't consider that his actions might be regarded as bold or inappropriate, all he was thinking of was how beautiful she was. He raised one hand to lightly stroke one long strand of her hair with his fingers. "You glow, like a gem. Your hair." He looked into her eyes. "Dress. Eyes."
"Why, John, are you trying to seduce me?" She smiled, thinking thank you Naomie. The dress had definitely paid off.
"Would you like for me to?"
"Hmm, I'm not sure. Why don't we dance and then I'll let you know."
John took her in his arms and danced her slowly around the granite island, hyper-aware of her breasts pressed against him just below his chest and a delicate yet intoxicating smell that rose from her skin and hair.
Amber looked up at him. "Tell me about yourself, John."
"There's not much to tell. I'm single. I work for the Department of Justice. I like to shoot hoops, surf, ski, run, bike, play rugby, and hate Indian food or anything with curry."
She smiled at him. "Department of Justice? In what capacity?"
"FBI."
"I can see that."
"Oh?"
"Um, hmm."
"Well, thanks. I guess."
"Oh, it was a compliment."
"That's a relief. So what about you?"
"Nothing so patriotic or dangerous. I work for National Geographic."
"That must be interesting."
"It is. Not what the folks hoped for from their only child but, so it goes. They love me, anyway."
He chuckled, and for the rest of the song, they danced in silence. When the music ended, she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. "Thanks for the dance, G-Man."
"Are you leaving me?"
"Well, I really need to sit, these heels are killing me, and I could use something to drink. Water preferably. And I think I spied an iced tub behind the bar."
"That actually sounds good. Mind some company?"
"I'd love it. I could use an arm. Like I said, these heels…"
Without thinking, John swept her up in his arms. "How about two arms?"
"Perfect," she said softly and looked into his eyes.
John was shocked to feel himself react so strongly. For the last while he'd been so focused on The Hood that he hadn't even looked at another woman. Now, not only was he looking, he was wanting.
"Yes, it is," he agreed and headed for the entrance of the castle with her snuggly in his arms.
He didn't put her down until they reached the door, and when he did, she smiled at him. "My hero."
John didn't comment but smiled because he liked the sound of it, opened the door and gestured for her to precede him. She did, but she reached for his hand in the process.
He took it and walked with her across the room and to the bar. "Two waters, please." She requested of the young man behind the bar. "Bottled."
The server had just placed the bottles on the bar when a voice sounded from behind them. "There you are."
Amber looked at John and gave him a wink before turning. "Hi, Dad."
"Your mother was looking for you. She wanted to introduce you to some people."
"I'm sure I'll be far more impressive in her narrative than in person."
"Amber."
It was clear from his expression that her father took no offense at her words. In fact, he smiled and then turned his attention to John. "Good evening. Richard Walker."
"It's an honor, sir." John extended his hand, trying to cover his surprise. "John Rushing."
"Special Agent John Rushing," Amber added.
"Thank you for your service to our country, Special Agent Rushing."
"It's an honor to serve, Senator."
"For us all, John. May I call you John?"
"Of course, sir."
"Well, I don't want to intrude." He looked briefly at Amber and then back at John. "It was a pleasure."
"For me, yes, sir. It was."
Senator Walker smiled, accepted a kiss on the cheek from Amber and then turned away to be engulfed by a crowd before he'd gone more than ten feet. John watched for a mome
nt then looked at her. "Amber Walker."
"John Rushing." She mimicked.
"Not nearly so impressive. Your father has a good chance of becoming the next President."
"Don't be so sure. Of the impressive part, I mean.," Amber said before opening her bottle of water and chugging down half of it. "Oh my God, that was good. And I agree."
"On?"
"That my father could end up being the next President. He'd do a good job. At least I think so. But then I'm prejudiced." She set her water bottle down. "Do you have your phone?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Because the answer is yes."
"Yes?"
"You're a smart guy, you'll figure it out. Now put this in your contacts." She rattled off a number.
"Your number?" He asked as he pulled out his phone.
"You don't have to use it if you don't want to."
"Oh, I want to."
"Good." She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Then do. Text. Call. Whatever. Just don't leave a girl hanging Special Agent John Rushing."
"Not a chance." He replied and added. "And you're sure the answer is yes?"
"I'm sure." She smiled and hurried away, cutting a quick look over her shoulder. He let his gaze follow the direction of her glance. Attorney General Sharon Walker, Amber's mother, was following her.
John almost laughed. He wondered if the AG would catch up to Amber, or if Amber would give her the slip.
He didn't know the answer to that, but one thing he did know was that he planned on using the number Amber gave him. And soon.
Chapter Six
Washingon, D.C.
The Hood got up to take a quick look through the telescope. John’s apartment was still dark. Since there was not yet anything to see, she turned her attention to the task at hand.
She printed out the photos from her phone and added them to the manilla envelope containing information she wanted to share with him. Finally, she keyed in a note to him on her phone and printed it as well.
Once the envelope was sealed, she threw on a lightweight jacket, crammed a knit cap on her head and headed out. It shouldn’t take long to deliver the envelope, and after that she had things to attend to for her next project.