Summer Rain (Lightning Strikes Book 3)

by Barbara Freethy

  Looking back at Kirk, she said, "Do you know a journalist named Ann Higgins?"

  "Sure. She runs the Beltway Beat, and she has a reputation for getting access to stories others cannot."

  "Have you seen her tonight?"

  "I saw her earlier." Kirk scoured the room. "There she is. See the table to the right of the podium? The red-head in the turquoise dress? That's her."

  "Great. Thanks."

  "Why do you want to talk to her?" Kirk asked curiously. "If there's a story brewing, I'd like to get in on it. It would help my resume, and get me out from under Stephen's thumb. Whenever I bring him anything, he takes credit for it."

  "That's the way it is," Tracy told him. "You can't take it personally. You just have to wait for your chance."

  "Could this be my chance?" Kirk asked Dani.

  "No. I don't have a story," she said hastily. "Someone—a friend—was asking if I knew her. That's all."

  "Well, just keep me in mind if you do get anything press-related. I think if the three of us stick together, we'll all do better," he said.

  "I will," she said, because that's what he hoped to hear. But the last thing she wanted was for an ambitious press assistant to catch wind of what might be a really big story.

  Nine

  Patrick saw Erica Hunt slip out of the ballroom after the senator's speech. He moved quickly after her. This might be his best chance to get face-to-face with the senator's chief of staff. He thought she might be headed to the bathroom, but was happy to see her in line at the bar.

  Erica was a beautiful, sophisticated woman wearing a body-hugging, dark-red dress that suggested a sexy, bold confidence. He could use that to his advantage. While his research on Erica hadn't gone much beyond her obvious job resume, he knew a few things about her. She liked a fight, and she loved to win. She changed jobs often, suggesting a tendency to get bored. Every move put her higher on the ladder. He wasn't sure what her end game was, but he doubted it was to work for a senator. Maybe she was planning to ride Dillon all the way to the White House. That he could certainly believe, but she might have picked the wrong horse.

  While Dani was loyal to her boss, he found the senator's reluctance to speak with him disturbing, unless his hesitation was being fueled by Erica's counsel. It was time to find out.

  As she left the bar with her drink, he stepped in front of her.

  Irritation, then surprise, then calculation moved through her gaze like a firestorm. He hadn't seen someone go through that many emotions so fast, but it was clear she'd recognized him.

  "Ms. Hunt," he said. "I'm Patrick Kane."

  "I know who you are." Her gaze ran down his body, unapologetically checking him out. "Your pictures don't do you justice." She sipped her drink. "I suppose I should have expected to find you here."

  "I need to speak to the senator. I'm hoping you and I can come to an agreement on that."

  "That's doubtful. Your reputation precedes you. You like trouble; I don't."

  "Now that I find difficult to believe. My guess is that you love trouble. It makes life more exciting, more challenging."

  A smile spread across her lips. "Excitement and challenges have their place, but not in my office. But I can see why you were able to turn the pharmaceutical industry upside down. Unfortunately, your charm won't work on me."

  "I'm not trying to charm you. I just want to talk. I think you should listen."

  Speculation entered her eyes. "Why don't we meet for lunch tomorrow? The Brady Grill on 17th Street, one o'clock."

  "Perfect." He was shocked that she agreed, but he wasn't going to question it.

  "Until then, I don't want to see your name on my call list."

  "I can wait until one o'clock tomorrow to annoy you again."

  "Excellent." She walked back into the ballroom with a decidedly sexy swagger.

  He smiled to himself. She thought she was calling the shots, but he'd just gotten her to agree to meet him for lunch. That was a win in his books. What came out of that meeting, who knew? But he'd be one step closer to the senator.

  As he turned his head, he saw Dani coming out of the restroom.

  Erica's in-your-face sexy style had done nothing for him, but Dani's beauty gut-checked him every single time.

  He'd promised to ignore her. He'd kept that promise so far…

  * * *

  Dani stopped abruptly, seeing Patrick approaching. She sent him a stern, warning look, but he ignored it and kept on coming.

  "Don't worry. Erica just went back into the ballroom," he said. "I had an interesting conversation with her."

  "You spoke to her?"

  "She asked me to have lunch with her tomorrow."

  "I can't believe it." She definitely hadn't expected Erica to make a lunch date with him.

  "I think she subscribes to the idea of keeping your enemies close."

  "She'll definitely grill you on your intentions."

  "I can handle that. I just want a chance to plead my case."

  She could see that Patrick felt good about the upcoming meeting; she did not. "I hope you know what you're doing."

  He cocked his head, giving her a thoughtful look. "What does that mean?"

  "Erica is a shark. Don't underestimate her."

  "I won't do that."

  "Okay. It's your call."

  "I have to try to get her on my side. I haven't been able to get close to the senator tonight. I get body-blocked by someone every time I get within a few feet of him."

  "I'm not surprised," she said. "By the way, Ann Higgins is here. I asked the press person in my office, and he pointed her out to me."

  His gaze narrowed. "Will you show me where she's sitting?"

  It would probably be better than hanging out in the hallway with him. "I'll point her out. Then you're on your own." She walked back into the ballroom, keeping a few feet in front of him.

  The speeches had ended, and the orchestra was playing again, as couples filled the dance floor. She moved toward the front of the room. The table where Ann had been sitting was almost empty. There was one couple engaged in conversation, and Ann who was checking something on her phone. As Patrick came up behind her, she said, "The redhead."

  "Got it. I'll find you later."

  Before she could tell him not to find her, he was gone. As she watched him offer Ann a charming smile, she felt an odd wave of something that felt a little like jealousy, which was stupid. She should not care at all. Turning away, she stumbled straight into Stephen Phelps. "Sorry."

  He grabbed her arm and gave her a smile. "No problem. I like it when a woman falls for me. It just doesn't happen often enough."

  Considering he was blond, tan, and charming, she suspected it happened more often than he was saying. "Thanks for the catch. Are you having fun?"

  "I am now. We never get to talk much at the office, Dani."

  "Our paths do not cross that much," she agreed.

  "I have to say I'm really impressed with the work you've been doing."

  "I appreciate that."

  "The senator considers you one of his most trusted assistants. I hope you know that," Stephen said. "He's told me that more than a few times. He said he trusts you to keep him out of trouble."

  Was that another warning masked as a compliment? A reminder of how much the senator trusted her?

  Damn Patrick for making her question everyone around her. "I'm glad the senator values my work. I try to anticipate any potential problems in legislation."

  "I'm sure that's not easy."

  "Nothing is easy in politics. Will you excuse me—"

  "Actually," he said, cutting her off. "I was hoping I could get you to dance with me."

  "Uh, well, all right," she stuttered, too surprised to do anything other than say yes. Up until this minute, she hadn't even thought Stephen knew her name. "I guess we could dance."

  "Don't look so worried," he said with a small laugh. "I promise not to step on your toes."

  "I'm not worried. I'm just n
ot much of a dancer." Actually, she was a really good dancer, but tonight she felt stiff and tense. She didn't know why Stephen had asked her to dance, and as they moved onto the dance floor, she saw Patrick and Ann heading there as well. Erica stood at the edge of the floor, her gaze perusing all the dancers.

  She and Patrick weren't dancing together, she told herself. Erica wouldn't know that she'd given Patrick the ticket. He could have gotten it anywhere. But still she felt nervous.

  "Are you enjoying DC?" Stephen asked, drawing her attention back to him. He held her a little closer than she would have liked.

  "Yes, very much," she said.

  "You don't miss the wide-open spaces of Texas that the senator loves to talk about so much?"

  "Sometimes, but I like the job, and I don't have much time for anything else."

  "What about a boyfriend? Are you seeing anyone?"

  "No."

  "Haven't met anyone or haven't had time?"

  "Both. What about you?"

  "Single. Concentrating on my job right now." He paused. "We should get a drink sometime, get to know each other better. I think we'd have a lot in common."

  "Sure," she said, thinking that would never come to pass. He was just making gala conversation. Or maybe he had a different agenda?

  Had Erica sent him to talk to her? Was Erica behind some of his probing questions?

  The dance came to an end, and she was more than thrilled to say goodnight.

  "I'm going to take off," she said. "I have some work to do tonight."

  "Can't it wait until tomorrow?"

  "It really can't. Thanks for the dance, Stephen."

  "I'll be in touch about that drink."

  She smiled and made her way quickly off the dance floor. When she got to the door of the ballroom, she looked over her shoulder. Stephen was dancing with Erica now, and Patrick and Ann had stayed on the floor for another dance.

  She couldn't help wondering what both couples were talking about, but that wasn't as important as getting the hell out of the gala, because there was just too much stress in this room. She felt like her every move was being watched, assessed. She needed to go home—now.

  But someone was calling her name.

  She inwardly sighed as the senator's wife motioned her over. She had a feeling she was going to be once again reminded of how much the senator trusted her. Why on earth was everyone so worried about her? What did they think she was going to do?

  * * *

  "I've seen you somewhere before," Ann Higgins told Patrick.

  He saw the puzzled gleam in her eyes and had a feeling she'd figure it out before too long. Maybe he could use his background as an investigative journalist to get her trust, to put her on his side. She liked a story, and he might have a really big story to tell—depending on what she had to say.

  "You're not a politician…are you a lobbyist?" she asked.

  "Why would you guess that?"

  "You have a look of confidence and money," she said with a flirtatious smile. "One of my favorite combinations in a man."

  With those requirements, he had a feeling Ann Higgins had a lot of fun in DC. She was in her early forties, with the kind of curves that were probably bought and paid for but definitely looked good on her. In some ways, she reminded him of Erica. They both felt like predators. He wondered how Dani would fare in a sea of such beautiful sharks. She was just as gorgeous, but she wasn't as tough or as ruthless.

  "So who are you?" Ann asked, as they moved around the dance floor. "As much as I like a mysterious, handsome stranger, I have a feeling you sought me out on purpose."

  "My name is Patrick Kane."

  Recognition flashed through her brown eyes. "The Patrick Kane whose book is being made into a movie?"

  "That's me."

  "Well, you've surprised me, and that's not easy to do. What are you doing in DC?"

  "I'm working on another story—a more personal one."

  "And you think I can help you," she said, meeting his gaze.

  "I'm hopeful."

  "What is it you want to know?"

  He looked around and saw no one within earshot who might be interested in their conversation—at least as far as he knew.

  Gazing back at Ann, he leaned forward and whispered into her ear. "I want to know about hummingbird."

  He felt her body stiffen, heard her take a quick, sharp breath. The word meant something to her; that was for sure.

  She pulled away and looked into his eyes. "Who told you to say that?"

  "Rico Montalvo."

  "Rico?" she echoed. "I thought he was making tacos these days."

  "He is. I was at his restaurant last night. I'm looking into what my mother was working on in the days before her death."

  "You're Jackie Kane's son, of course. I didn't put that together until now."

  "Can we talk?"

  "Not here."

  "Where?"

  She hesitated, and he felt like he was about to lose her.

  "Name the place—anywhere, anytime—but make it soon," he said. "It's very important that we have a conversation."

  She looked around. "Not here. It can't be my place—or yours. Somewhere public, but not too public, a place we can't be overheard," she muttered.

  "There's a bar not far from here."

  She immediately shook her head. "No, it has to be outside where no one can hear." She thought for another moment. "Meet me at the World War II Memorial in thirty minutes." Then she let go of his hand and left the dance floor, disappearing into the crowd.

  His heart thudded against his chest. He felt a wave of elation that she'd agreed to meet him. Maybe he was about to get a break.

  He looked around the ballroom for Dani but he didn't see her anywhere, so he headed out of the hotel. There was a long taxi line out front, and he was more than a little happy to see Dani in the middle of it.

  "I have my car," he said, stopping next to her.

  "I'll just wait for a cab," she said shortly, refusing to look at him.

  He dropped his voice and leaned in. "I spoke to Ann Higgins. Sure I can't give you a ride?"

  She shot him a disbelieving look. "She told you something?"

  "My car is in a lot around the corner on Davis Street. I'll wait five minutes." He walked away from her, hoping she would follow.

  When he reached the lot, he got into his car and looked into the rearview mirror. No sign of Dani. Another two minutes passed. Then he saw her moving between the cars. She opened the passenger door and got inside.

  "I feel like a spy," she said. "This is ridiculous."

  "Or exciting," he suggested.

  "What did Ann tell you?"

  "It wasn't what she said as much as how she reacted to the word hummingbird. She flinched and looked extremely nervous."

  "So what is hummingbird? Some password for some covert operation?"

  "She didn't say. She said she couldn't talk with so many people around, but she would meet me in a half hour at the World War II Memorial."

  Even in the dim light, he could see the worry in Dani's eyes.

  "That sounds dramatic," she said. "Why couldn't she meet you in a bar or just outside the hotel?"

  He shrugged. "I don't know. She said something about not being overheard. Once she learned who I was and what I wanted to talk about, she didn't want to be seen with me. She couldn't get away fast enough. I'm starting to feel like I have the plague."

  "Or you are the plague," Dani said dryly. "I take it you're going to meet her."

  "Of course. Want to join me?"

  "No."

  Despite her quick denial, he sensed she was more interested than she wanted to be. "Are you sure? Aren't you curious what she has to say?"

  "Do you know how many times tonight I was reminded of the senator's trust in me, his appreciation of my loyalty?"

  "That alone should make you want to know what Ann knows, because the people surrounding your boss seem very intent on making sure you don't talk to me. Why? Wha
t are they so worried about?"

  "I don't know, and you're right, their behavior is getting stranger by the minute. Stephen Phelps, the senator's press secretary, has never bothered to exchange more than two words with me until tonight. He danced with me, tried to charm me and ended up suggesting we meet for a drink sometime. He was smooth as silk, and I didn't believe one word that came out of his mouth. But then I wondered if it's me reading into innocent comments."

  "I don't think you are reading into anything."

  "Stephen is very close to Erica. He was her first hire. They're tight. I wonder if she told him to get closer to me."

  "Then you should definitely come with me tonight, Dani. No one else will be there. Let's find out what Ann knows and if there's something your boss or his staff needs to be worried about."

  "She might not talk to you if I'm there," Dani said.

  He supposed that was a risk, but his gut told him it was important to keep Dani close, and he wasn't going to question why. "Let's risk it. I could really use your assessment of Ann, too. I think you have good instincts about people."

  "All right," she said after a moment's thought.

  "Good."

  He didn't know why he was so relieved she'd agreed to come with him. He was used to working alone. Most days he preferred it. But ever since Dani had come to his rescue, he'd felt like their connection was important, possibly in ways he had yet to understand.

  Starting the car, he pulled out of the lot, keeping a watchful eye on the traffic behind them, but they didn't appear to have a tail.

  They had to park a few blocks from the National Mall and walk in to the park. The World War II Memorial was located at the east end of the mall near the reflecting pool. There were no tourists around at just before eleven o'clock at night, for which Patrick was both relieved and worried. He didn't know if Ann had just thrown out the meeting spot off the top of her head or if she'd had a reason to pick a deserted location for their conversation, but he was going to be on his guard.

  "This is one of my favorite monuments," Dani said, as they walked toward the memorial, which was set in a semi-circle with a magnificent fountain in the center.

  "It is impressive," he agreed. "My mother brought me here for the opening in 2004. Her father came along, too. My grandfather served in World War II, and this monument meant a lot to him."