by Gayle Wilson
“Really?” she said, softening the question with a smile.
“We have mutual friends.”
It was the same thing Ethan had said when she’d tried to close the door in his face. He had been talking about her father. She wondered if Steiner might also know Monty Gardner, and if so, in what capacity.
Because he was still rather pointedly holding out his hand, she finally put hers into his. And then wished that she hadn’t.
There was something about the man that made her flesh crawl. It wasn’t the feeling of threat she’d experienced a few minutes ago. It was more the way someone looks at you when they believe they have you at a disadvantage. As if they know something unsavory about you, some unpleasant secret you’d hoped no one would ever know.
“And who would that be?” she asked, removing her fingers from his as quickly as she could.
His thin lips moved upward at the corners, but like the man at the hospital, the smile never reached his eyes. She wouldn’t have believed it if it had.
Steiner ignored her question, turning to say something to Ethan instead. Although he was almost whispering, she caught the name Griff.
Hearing that allowed her to relax a little. Steiner obviously had some connection to the CIA. What she had believed to be a reference to her father and now his use of Cabot’s first name made that obvious.
“Have you two met Representative Crosston?” Steiner asked.
He put his hand on Ethan’s elbow, urging him toward a small knot of people nearby. Raine had obviously been included in the invitation, but she was unwilling to spend another moment in Steiner’s company. She felt soiled by the brief contact she’d had with him.
As Ethan walked over to shake hands with the congressman, she allowed her eyes to survey the others at Steiner’s table. As she scanned each face, she found no echo of the enmity she’d felt before.
There was nothing here to set off alarms. Only people who were anxious now to leave. Eager to beat the traffic. To get home and send their baby-sitters on their way. To take off their shoes and their evening wear and climb into bed and sleep late tomorrow.
She had been wrong in thinking that someone at this table had been the source of that malice. What she did had never been an exact science, and with the aftermath of what had happened three years ago, it was apparently far less so now.
Even as she made that acknowledgment, the sensation came again, almost as powerful as before. Only not as close, she realized. Not down here at all, but—
Her eyes lifted, searching the balcony above the ballroom floor where the tables for the gala had been set up. Suddenly there was no doubt in her mind of exactly where that feeling had emanated.
Someone was standing in the shadows at the top of the staircase that led up to the mezzanine. Hidden from view, he was watching her.
A sense of threat, as direct as the beam of a flashlight, sliced through her consciousness. She turned, searching for Ethan. Steiner, his hand on Ethan’s shoulder, had pulled him into another group of people and was busy making introductions.
“Ethan?”
Her voice seemed to echo inside her head, so that she wasn’t sure she had said his name aloud. Ethan didn’t respond, so perhaps she hadn’t.
Steiner was still talking, his hand rising and falling as he patted the taller man’s shoulder. It seemed to be moving in slow motion. Just as the noises around her were fading. Becoming only a background for the important thing that was happening.
Her eyes flicked back to the shadows on the balcony. The force of what she felt hadn’t lessened. If anything, it seemed to have intensified, becoming more and more compelling. She shook her head, trying to clear it. Nothing changed.
Then, without making any conscious decision to do so, she took a single step forward. And then another. And another. As she continued to move toward it, her eyes were fastened intently on that pool of darkness at the top of the stairs.
Chapter Nine
One minute Raine had been there, her hand on his arm, and the next she was gone. Steiner’s insistence on introducing him to someone had momentarily sidetracked him, but Ethan would have sworn he hadn’t been distracted for more than a minute.
Long enough, he thought bitterly.
Despite the advantage his height gave him, he couldn’t spot Raine in the sea of people beginning to eddy toward the exits. She couldn’t have gone far, he told himself, trying to quell his rising sense of panic.
It seemed only a matter of seconds that he hadn’t been aware of her by his side. Just as he’d been acutely aware of her all night.
“Something wrong?” As usual, Steiner’s eyes were devoid of expression, but his voice held a note of what sounded like genuine concern.
“Ms. McAllister. She was here a moment ago, and now she’s disappeared.”
As Ethan continued to scan the crowd, conscious of seconds ticking away, his anxiety grew. He had seen no need to prevaricate with Steiner. Maybe while Ethan had been exchanging social niceties with the assistant deputy director’s guests, Steiner had been keeping an eye on Raine. After all, his interest in her when they’d been introduced had been quite open.
Steiner’s gaze focused briefly on the people making their way toward the central doors of the ballroom, which led to the bank of elevators, before it came back to Ethan. “Maybe she went to the ladies’ room.”
It was a possibility. Considering what had happened at the hospital, Ethan would have thought Raine understood the necessity of staying close to him tonight. Griff had certainly been explicit about the dangers she faced.
“You know where that would be?” Ethan surveyed the room, looking for the typical discreet sign and directional arrow.
His gaze swept hurriedly across the staircase on the other side of the room, its elaborate wrought iron banisters leading up to the balcony that ran around the top of the ballroom. His attention snapped back to it almost immediately.
His mind’s eye had belatedly registered a figure at the top of those steps. By the time his attention had returned to the stairs, whoever he’d seen there had already disappeared into the shadows of the balcony.
Raine?
He examined that fleeting impression. The figure had definitely been that of a woman. And she’d been wearing a dark dress. Black? It might have been, but the glimpse he’d gotten had been so fleeting…
He had already taken a step toward the staircase when Steiner’s hand fastened around his forearm. “I think the rest rooms are over there.” The CIA’s assistant deputy director pointed to a location in the opposite direction of where Ethan had been headed.
There was no reason for Raine to have been climbing up to that balcony alone, Ethan acknowledged. And no one could have forcibly abducted her in the midst of this crowd. Not even by employing the same tactics the man at the hospital had used. All she would have had to do was to call his name.
A far more logical explanation for her disappearance was the one Steiner had suggested. Maybe Raine had decided to slip away to the rest room while he’d been engaged with the congressman Carl had insisted he meet. He looked toward the sign Steiner had indicated and then back toward the stairs.
Maybe you call it instinct.
He didn’t. He had always called it going with his gut. And that was exactly what he intended to do this time.
“Thanks,” he said to Steiner. Without a backward glance, he headed in the direction opposite to the one the CIA supervisor had pointed out.
WHEN RAINE REACHED the top of the stairs, the shadowed area she’d noticed from below was empty. Actually, the entire balcony appeared to be deserted. Given the number of people who had crowded into the ballroom tonight that seemed strange.
And it made coming here a very foolish move on her part, she admitted.
She couldn’t explain why she’d decided to strike out on her own. The entire point of having Ethan escort her was to preclude what had occurred at the hospital from happening again.
Besides, now that sh
e was here, the compulsion that had draw her up the stairs seemed to have faded. She couldn’t imagine why she’d thought identifying the source of that animosity was so urgent that she couldn’t wait for Ethan to accompany her.
She stepped over to the railing to look down on the crowd below, searching for him. She couldn’t find his tall, tuxedo-clad body in the swirling mass of people, although she did spot Steiner. He was still conversing with the people he’d been so insistent Ethan should meet, but there was no sign of the Phoenix operative in the group surrounding him.
Maybe Ethan was looking for her. After all, according to Cabot his assignment tonight had been to keep an eye on her.
By coming up here while he’d been engaged, she had made that virtually impossible. She couldn’t understand why she had done that, especially when that impulse had been in response to what could only be called a strong sense of hostility.
Despite how foolish this had been, no harm had been done, she decided, turning to head back to the stairs. Before she had taken more than a couple of steps, the sensation she’d felt on the floor of the ballroom returned with a vengeance.
Far more powerful than it had been before, it was obviously much closer. Or maybe more focused.
Despite the same inexplicable urge to find its source, she started forward again, her eyes once more searching the crowd below. This time, with an enormous sense of relief, she spotted Ethan.
He was pushing his way through the throng with a single-minded determination. And thankfully he was headed in the direction of the staircase.
At that moment he raised his eyes, seeming to look right into hers. Raine wondered if he could see her, since she was in the darkest area of the balcony. Actually, she was standing almost in the exact spot from which the animosity she’d felt downstairs had seemed to originate.
As she stared down at Ethan, something brushed her arm. She whirled, reacting to the unexpected contact.
In the deepest part of the shadows behind her stood a figure from a nightmare, draped from head to foot in black. He was wearing a cloak, she realized, her eyes straining through the dimness, trying desperately to make sense out of what she was seeing. A cloak and a mask, the kind that covered the entire face.
All but the eyes. They were visible through the slits in the dark material from which the mask had been fashioned.
As she met them, the same flashbulb transformation that had happened in her studio occurred again.
The now-familiar image of the pond, its waters still and deep and cold, replaced the eyes peering through the holes in the mask. Eyes that in the brief moment she looked into them had perfectly reflected those same chilling characteristics.
WHATEVER ETHAN THOUGHT he’d seen at the top of the staircase had no longer been there when he’d arrived. Instead, it appeared there was no one at all on the entire balcony. He had walked its perimeter twice, stopping several times to study the scene below with an anxiety that was fast becoming desperation.
There was still no sign of Raine, and by now the crowd was beginning to thin. Where the hell could she have gone?
He found it hard to believe that he’d allowed himself to be distracted like that. Maybe it was because they’d been in such close contact seconds before she’d disappeared. Or maybe his failure to anticipate that anything could happen to her was because the group surrounding them had all been Steiner’s associates or members of the Intelligence Committee.
And maybe if you try a little harder, you can latch on to some other excuse for an action that was inexcusable.
He started back toward the stairs, intending to take Steiner’s advice and check out the ladies’ room. They were always more crowded at an event like this. Maybe Raine was standing in a line, worrying about not having told him where she was heading.
No matter what scenarios he invented, he was fairly certain that a trip to the powder room couldn’t explain her prolonged absence. He couldn’t call Griff and report her missing, however, without checking out every possibility. A phone call he would give anything not to have to make.
As he approached the area near the top of the stairs, he realized the reason it was so much darker than the rest of the balcony. The bulb in one of the art deco electric wall sconces had burned out.
Passing through the shadows created by its loss, he glanced over the wrought iron railing one last time, his gaze sweeping across the remaining guests. Searching for dark hair, loosely gathered into curls. For a head carried regally on a long elegant neck. For smooth, slim shoulders framed by black lace.
Disappointed with the results of his search, he directed his eyes back to the stairs he was about to descend. Just at the top of them something glittered against the deep maroon of the old-fashioned patterned carpet.
Even before he had stooped to pick it up, he identified the object. It was one of the pair of earrings Raine had been wearing tonight, highly distinctive because, even to his relatively untrained eye, they had appeared to be antique and valuable.
They were also the kind that screwed onto the ear, a method that was supposed to provide security against loss. So what had happened on this spot to dislodge this one?
His hand reflexively clenched the earring as his eyes examined the area where it had been lying. There was no other information to be gleaned from the smooth surface of the carpeting. Even if some kind of struggle had taken place on this spot, the hard nap wouldn’t have been marked.
At least he had proof now that his instinct had been correct. Raine had been here, and only a little while ago. Since he was sure she hadn’t gone down those stairs in the few minutes it had taken him to get to them, that must mean—
There had to be another access to this area. Bolstered by the certainty that he was now on the right track, he began to retrace the journey he’d made along the balcony, looking for another exit.
This time he found what he had missed before. Covered by a gold brocade curtain was a set of double doors that matched those in the ballroom below.
He pressed the latch of the handle with his thumb, but it didn’t give. Locked. Which didn’t necessarily mean that they had been minutes ago.
He bent, examining the mechanism. Considering the age of the hotel, what he found was exactly what he’d expected.
He straightened, hurriedly taking his billfold out of his inside coat pocket to remove a credit card. He inserted the thin plastic between the doors, pushing the tongue of the lock toward the back. It slid out of the notch in the opposite door, just as he’d expected.
Wherever these led, the management hadn’t been worried enough about anyone making an unauthorized entrance through them to change the locks to something more modern and more secure. He wasn’t sure whether that was comforting or not.
Especially since he had no weapon. Security at social functions in the capital right now was too tight to allow that, even for someone licensed to carry.
He took a deep breath, then pushed the door inward. And knew immediately why this exit hadn’t been more secured.
The doors opened onto an exterior hallway that matched almost exactly the configuration of the interior balcony that overlooked the ballroom, except here, instead of a railing, there were windows set at regular intervals along what must be the outside wall of the hotel.
He couldn’t guess at the original purpose in splitting the space in this way, but it was obvious that through the years, the exterior part of the balcony had become a storage area for items that might be needed in the ballroom below. Gold and white chairs, like the ones that had surrounded the tables at dinner tonight were stacked on top of one another. There were also stacks of extra tables and what appeared to be some kind of lighting equipment. That was probably set up on the balcony itself and could be directed onto the dance floor. There were even racks of what appeared to be costumes. Maybe used by the wait staff for holiday parties or other special occasions?
He stepped through the doorway and into the outer corridor, which was uncarpeted. With nothing to
absorb it, sound would carry along its entire length.
He eased the door closed behind him and then stood a few seconds in the resulting darkness. He could hear nothing but his own breathing.
He resisted the urge to call Raine’s name. Just because he couldn’t hear anything didn’t mean there was no one else here.
His eyes finally adjusted to the loss of light that had resulted from closing the balcony door. The long windows along the outer wall were uncovered and, despite the darkness outside, provided some illumination. Enough to allow him to navigate around the obstacles the open door had revealed, now little more than shapes in the darkness.
Having seen this area, which was more like a warehouse than a part of the elegant ballroom below, he didn’t believe Raine would have come in here alone.
Wild-goose chase.
Only the earring he had slipped into his pocket kept him from giving in to those doubts and retracing his steps to place that call to Griff. There was no logical reason for Raine to be up here wandering around among the stage props.
Not unless she’d been brought in here.
He began to move forward. No matter how careful he tried to be, the soles of his shoes made noise on the concrete floor, which echoed and reechoed in the narrow space.
So much for any element of surprise.
Choosing speed rather than caution, he began to walk without regard for the sounds of his footsteps. Once around the circle, he promised himself, and if he didn’t find anything, he’d go back downstairs. He couldn’t put off calling Griff any longer.
He had made perhaps half the circle when he realized there was some subliminal sound besides the noise he was making. Originating from somewhere ahead of him, there was a tantalizing familiarity about it. Something he knew he should be able to identify…
And when he had, he also knew why he was hearing it only now. One of the windows on the outside wall was open. Carried on the night air, the sound of traffic on the street below was drifting upward and into the corridor.
He rounded the curve, and the open window was visible. The noises were louder here, mostly the swish of tires as a vehicle passed on the damp streets below and the occasional bleat of a distant horn.