The Senator's Daughter (Heritage Series Book 3)

by Ciana Stone

  The Presidential candidates were trying not to weigh in on the issue because the country was so divided in its opinion over the case.

  To top it all off, the Bureau was starting to look at him with jaded eyes. No one could come up with a reasonable explanation on why The Hood would deliver information to him.

  John suggested it was due to the fact that he'd been on the case the longest and so far his superiors seemed to buy it. So far. John wasn't foolish enough to think that would remain the status quo if he kept getting alerts from The Hood. Sooner or later, she or he would slip up and then his ass would be in a sling.

  He had no desire to lose his job or be prosecuted. Particularly considering that his crime was basically having a hard on for the Hood. That was a situation he didn't seem to be able to control. John hadn’t heard a word from the Hood and it was driving him a little mad. As crazy as it was, he missed her tormenting him, and couldn’t stop thinking of their night together.

  To compound things, he was starting to care about Amber and really hoped their weekend cruise would be more than drinking wine and sharing a chaste goodnight kiss.

  What the hell? How could he be so hot for two women at the same time?

  "Want to go grab a beer?" He asked his partner as they reached their car.

  "Can't. Wife made plans with some friends for dinner and will have my head if I'm late."

  "No problem. Why don't I just catch a cab back to the Bureau? That'll save you some time."

  "You sure?"

  "Yeah. Have a good evening."

  "You too, partner. See you tomorrow."

  John headed back to the street to flag a cab, wondering if maybe he could entice Amber into a late date.

  Chapter Nine

  Washington, D.C.

  "Are you positive you weren't followed?" Naomie asked as Richard and Sharon Walker removed their raincoats.

  "Positive," Sharon shook her coat, sending droplets scattered across the floor. "Shit, I shouldn't have done that. Be careful here, it might be slippery." She looked at Naomie. "Our security doubles left for a night out, and our reservations are for a private table in a restaurant that doesn't allow press."

  "Okay, come with me, and I'll show you what we have. Madam Attorney General, if you'll take my hand? Senator, please hold your wife's hand." Naomie led the way from the rear entrance of the mansion to one of the interior-most rooms. There were no lights, but she knew her way and less than a minute later, she was opening a door.

  Once they stepped inside, they had to pass through an opening in heavy black-out drapes. Naomie gestured toward the seating area on one side of the room. "Please, sit."

  Richard and Sharon sat and looked at her expectantly. Naomie took a seat at the desk, and her fingers tapped on the wireless keyboard. The bank of monitors on the wall started filling with images and information.

  "Okay, let's start here," Naomie said, and a blue rim of light framed the contents of one of the monitors. On it were displayed four of the doctored images being used to threaten Richard.

  "I've uncovered a few surprises. Now, we not only have evidence the photos of the Senator were, in fact, manufactured, but we know the identity of the men who were actually in them. She typed on the keyboard and almost instantly, the photos changed. Instead of Richard, there was another well-known face in the pictures.

  "The President's son?" Richard looked at her. "Are you sure this is authentic?"

  "Without question." Naomie zoomed one of the images and part of the background illuminated.

  "Petrov!" Sharon gasped.

  "None other. These are his women. Slaves, if you will. He often observes his women at work, particularly when a high-level client is being served."

  "Do you have any idea what this could do if we can prove there's a connection?"

  "Oh, we can prove it," Naomie typed, and another monitor appeared rimmed with light. "These photos were taken by someone Petrov hired. We have the email correspondence between the photographer and Petrov when the photographer emailed the originals as well as emails where Petrov ordered the photo manipulations."

  As she spoke, she flashed new images on the screen, letting the Walkers see the information she'd amassed thus far.

  "Additionally, we have emails between the President's son and Petrov, discussing how appreciative the President will be for Petrov to facilitate specific arrangements with the Russian President to expedite certain business ventures in Russia and of course, the family's appreciation for the Russians keeping the dealings a private matter.

  "There are also voice mail messages between the President's son about these business ventures, not only with the Russians but with several Sheiks who are considered disreputable and untrustworthy.

  "From the information gathered thus far, it appears the President's son has been quite busy, not just lining the family's coffers but working behind the scenes to get people of power to convince the President of the path he should walk. If ever there was a case of it being a bad idea to trust your child, this is it. The President's son is going to ruin him.

  "And there's still a lot of trail to follow. I suspect what we'll find will be more than enough to annihilate Petrov, ruin the President's son, and make Richard a shoo-in for the Oval Office."

  Richard and Sharon looked at one another and then at her. Naomie waited for them to absorb the news and finally, Sharon spoke. "This is all informative, but you do, of course, know that should we try to use this, it will be deemed illegally gained, and the moment we speak the first word, all of this will vanish from their computers, servers, and backups."

  "I do, indeed. That's why I hacked into the accounts of everyone involved and set up cloud storage accounts for them. Each account shows as having been activated at a different date, and all transactions will appear on bank statements of the credit cards used to pay for the storage accounts.

  "Additionally, all information backed up to the various storages accounts will show as auto-backups that match the dates these emails were sent. Voicemail records are stored in the same manner. It won't take authorities long to discover these accounts and access the information stored there."

  "That sounds like compelling evidence," Richard agreed. "But there's one thing we haven't done."

  "What?" Naomie was sure she'd been pretty thorough so far.

  "Follow the money. Unless we can prove money changed hands, our case will be far weaker."

  "You're right," Naomie agreed and typed on her keyboard.

  Financial records, spreadsheets, bank statements, and wire transfers appeared on the screen. "They can't hide the banking information. They have clearly hidden it from tax returns, but the banking records can be ordered by the court."

  Richard stared at her for a few moments. "You did it. With this, we can shut down this photoshop nightmare and possibly open eyes to what's going on in our government."

  "But is it enough to put Petrov behind bars?"

  He looked at Sharon, and after a moment, she looked at Naomie. "Unfortunately, no. I checked into that, and he has been afforded diplomatic immunity."

  That news sent a spike of anger flashing through Naomie hot enough that she actually felt her skin flush. "Then we're not done."

  "But we are," Sharon argued. "At least with what we set out to do, namely make sure these photos never see the light of day and harm Richard's chances of winning the nomination." She looked at Richard. "And that has to be our focus. At least for now. Once you're elected, we'll take on the criminal aspects of this. You know as well as I, we can't charge a sitting president. And since his term is almost over, the smart move would be to sit on this until after the election and then when he steps foot out of the White House, we lower the boom on his son and him if it turns out he is an accomplice."

  Richard nodded, "I know that's probably the safest course of action, but is it really the best? The most honorable, I mean? Shar, you and I both know the people of this country are getting the shaft in the most fundamental manner. They're
being lied to every day, fed a load of shit that will never manifest and all the while they are sinking into financial trouble because we, the rich, are so greedy we've lost sight of a basic truth. It's the people who make us wealthy. We've forgotten how to be grateful, and most importantly, we've forgotten that we took these positions to serve. Not to rule or be served, but to serve the American people."

  Naomie clapped, not a bit shy to show her support or possibly incur Sharon Walker's ire. Sure enough, Sharon cut her an annoyed look before she turned her attention back to Richard. "Rich, you know I love you for your standards, integrity, and genuine concern for this country, but there are times when you don't consider the bigger picture."

  "Which is?"

  "That the more we expose, the more risk we take of being exposed, and this could come down looking like what has been spewed all too often. A witch hunt or vendetta. We can't let that happen, and we can't let your reputation be sullied if you're going to run and win the White House."

  "Then we're not finished," Naomie said and when they looked at her, added. "Petrov has to be destroyed. Not just exiled, but destroyed. Now, I can do that with or without your help, but with would be easier, so I'm asking, will you give me time to do what is needed to crush him?"

  "Yes," Richard answered quickly and gave Sharon a look Naomie read as challenging.

  "Fine," Sharon agreed. "Do what you need to do, but the moment you have what you need, everything shuts down. The longer we operate, the bigger the chances of being discovered."

  "I understand and will work as quickly as possible. Thank you."

  "We're the ones who should be thanking you," Richard remarked.

  "No thanks are needed. Now, with your approval, the truth will start to surface, and over the next five days, everything will be revealed. Emails will go out to all members of the House and Senate, as well the Justice Department. These emails will outline the information contained in the attachments, and those attachments will include everything I've shown you."

  "That should do it," Sharon agreed and stood. "Thank you, Dr. Taylor."

  "Naomie and you're welcome, Madam Attorney General. I believe we acted in the best interest of our country."

  "Thank you."

  Naomie nodded and walked around the desk. "Let me escort you out."

  "Aren't you leaving?" Richard asked.

  "I have more to do."

  "As you wish."

  Naomie saw them to the door and once they'd gone, returned to the computer room. Amber was sitting on the couch, sipping from a glass of wine. Another glass sat on the table, and she picked it up when Naomie walked in.

  "I bet you ten dollars to a donut that Dad goes to see Uncle Russ within forty-eight hours," Amber commented.

  Naomie shrugged, accepted the glass and took a seat on the sofa. "Only because he wants Russ to know we've completed part of what we set out to do."

  "Actually, you completed all they wanted to be done. The rest isn't for them."

  "Isn't it?" Naomie took a small sip of wine and set the glass aside.

  "You know it isn't. Well, not entirely. I know you want to stop Petrov from being able to hurt or even just trouble the family, but you have to admit that what comes next is largely because you want revenge."

  Naomie thought about that for a few moments. "You're right. I want to ruin him. No, to raze his empire to the ground. I want him beaten, broken, devastated –without penny or power. I want his world to turn to shit, and I want him to live there for the rest of his miserable life."

  "Damn, girl, talk about the heat of hate. Are you sure you want to walk that path?"

  "There's no heat in my rage, and of all the people in the world, you should know why I need to do this. I wasn't the only one in a cage, you know, and I hate to think how many there've been since me. No one deserves that, Amber, to be treated like an animal, as something without feeling or worth. You can't begin to imagine."

  Amber set her glass aside and slid over to take Naomie's hand. "But I can. I remember the nightmares, you waking every night screaming and sweating. I remember how you jumped at every small noise, how your face would pale if you heard a man's voice that sounded like him. I remember Naomie. I know how long it took for you to be able to tolerate simply the touch of someone's hand on you."

  Naomie nodded, trying to fight back the tears. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that and God as my witness, I don't think I would've survived without you."

  "I think you would, but I'm glad it was me who was there to help. And to get your mind off the past."

  Naomie laughed. "Yeah, you did that for sure, and again, I'm grateful. But I do need to destroy him, Amber. For your family, for all the women he's hurt and killed and for me. I need to show him who has the power. I need him to know that he didn't ruin me and that my retribution is beyond his power to escape. If that's wrong, then so be it, I'll deal it, but I won't back down. Not now."

  "I know, and I'm with you. But for the moment, I'd like to interject a moment of selfishness and tell you again, I'm so glad you talked me into going to that event at the Met."

  "John Rushing?"

  "Oh my god, girl, I'm about to the point of raping the man. We've planned to spend the weekend on my parent's boat, so if you wanted to invite Uncle Russ up for the weekend, the condo will be all yours."

  "That's tempting. I'll think about it. Thanks."

  "You bet. Look, I'm gonna split, go home, chill and see if I can get John on the phone. Maybe we can sext or something."

  "You seriously need to get laid."

  "Don't I?" Amber gave Naomie a quick hug. "See you in the morning?"

  "Yes, ma'am. Drive safe and happy sexting."

  Amber chuckled, grabbed her purse and coat that were piled on an adjacent chair and left. Naomie sat there for a few minutes, then walked over to the desk and picked up her phone.

  "Hi gorgeous," Russell's voice was low and intimate, making her wish he was there with her and not a thousand miles away.

  "God, I miss you."

  "Then come home."

  "I can't. Not yet. At least not permanently. But I thought maybe I could get away for a few days. I book us a suite somewhere on the coast of Maryland or Virginia, and we could have a moonlit walk on the beach."

  "That sounds tempting, but what if you came home for a few days."

  "Is that what you'd prefer?"

  "Yes."

  "Okay, I'll let you know when I'm getting in."

  "I can send the plane for you."

  "It's okay. I'll handle it. I really do miss you."

  "I miss you. How are things going?'

  "Fine."

  "Are you sure everything's okay there, honey?"

  Naomie not only didn't want to say but didn't even want to allude to anything. She knew her phone was secure, but that's as far as her security reached and she didn't like taking chances. "Fine, just lonely. What were you doing when I called?"

  "Reading."

  "What?"

  "Information we got today on some stallions possibly for our breeding program."

  "Any of them look good?'

  "A few."

  "Are you going to have them brought in to look over?"

  "When you get back, yes."

  "You'll wait for me?"

  "Isn't that obvious?"

  She heard a bit of bile in his tone. "I won't be gone forever, you know."

  "I know. I just want you here."

  "I love you, Russ. I can't wait to see you. Set it up for the weekend and I promise to be there."

  "You sure?"

  "I am. And thanks for not giving up on me."

  "You had me at hello, Gypsy girl."

  "You know I may have to slide that into my ammo pile to pull out and use one day."

  His chuckle told her the tenseness had passed. "I don't doubt it."

  "Well, I need to back up my files, get everything closed down and head back to Amber’s. I'm beat. I'll text you my arrival info tomorrow."

&
nbsp; "Okay."

  "I love you."

  "And I love you. Be safe getting home and text me when you go to bed."

  "You know I will. Bye."

  Naomie pocketed her phone and set about closing down her system and setting the security protocols. She didn't worry about losing data, it was backed up in a place no one would ever find it because no one would think to look, on an obscure government server she knew to be secure because it was virtually forgotten. Of course, she was a firm believer in redundant backups, so she had copies secreted in cloud storage sites all over the world.

  She wasn't about to lose what she had on Petrov. Soon she'd have everything she needed, and she could leave this place and go back to Texas and to the man who made Texas her home.

  Chapter Ten

  Washington, D.C.

  Winfred Maddox sifted through the envelopes as he walked up the sidewalk to his small house. He noticed there was new graffiti on the concrete, some of it of a threatening nature and others that praised him. He didn't give a care for the former but did feel a swell of pride at the latter.

  When his sentence was first overturned, every news outlet in the country clamored to interview him. Now, aside from the painting on his sidewalk, it was as if he'd vanished. He felt invisible and didn't like it. He'd loved being famous, or infamous as he was once considered.

  He just might have to put his mind to a way of getting some attention. With that thought in mind, he entered the house, tossed the mail onto the small table just inside the door and hurried to his computer.

  As soon as it booted up, he logged onto his email. "Junk, junk, junk, who cares, junk." He chanted as he deleted email. His finger suddenly paused and hovered over the delete key, and his breath quickened.

  From a Fan, the subject line read.

  Winfred hurried to open the email, devouring the text like a starving man.

  Dear Mr. Maddox,

  Winfred. May I presume to call you Winfred? I've been following your career since its inception and it's taken me this long to get the courage to finally reach out.