Fair Game

by Doreen Owens Malek

  “And?”

  “It’s hit the media that the daughter saw the shooter.”

  Martin went white. “What?” he whispered.

  “Yeah, I know, it’s bad.”

  “I told her not to tell anyone she saw the guy,” Martin murmured, stunned. “She promised me she wouldn’t.”

  “I knew you would have told her to keep her mouth shut,” Rourke said. “I checked into it, and it seems the girl was sedated in the hospital. I guess she was confused by the drug, half asleep maybe, and she mumbled something to a nurse, who then leaked it to the papers.”

  Martin swore under his breath.

  “It seemed fishy to me too, so I...” Rourke said.

  He stopped in amazement as Martin pushed past him roughly.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Rourke demanded, blocking his path.

  “Get out of my way,” Martin said, dodging.

  “Don’t give me that,” Rourke barked. “I’m still your superior in this department, and you’ll answer a direct question, boyo, or I’ll have the desk sergeant detain you at the door.”

  Martin paused in flight and sighed. He knew Rourke would do it, and a hassle would only delay him further.

  “I’m going back to the Fair house,” he said. “The gunman will be after the girl as soon as he finds out she saw him.”

  “That’s not your problem now!” Rourke shouted, as if increased volume would get the message across. “You’re off the case!”

  “Gerry, he’ll kill her,” Martin said, trying to remain calm. If Rourke stopped him, he’d be no good to Ashley or anyone else.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Don’t bullshit me, Gerry. We both know what’s going to happen. This guy is a pro. He was in and out of that hotel in Millvale like a bolt of lightning. He’ll track her down and eliminate the witness.”

  “She has the FBI to protect her.”

  “Oh, screw the FBI!” Martin exploded. “She needs me.”

  Rourke stared at him, his watery blue eyes widening. “She needs you,” he repeated slowly. “Would you mind telling me how you received that amazing revelation?”

  Martin didn’t answer.

  “Timmy, talk to me. What’s going on here?”

  Martin still avoided his eyes and did not reply.

  “Are you sleeping with this Fair girl?” Rourke demanded, getting the drift.

  Martin looked at him then.

  “You were always a great one for the ladies, Tim, I know that. I’ve heard all the love-‘em-and-leave-‘em stories circulating through this department, but up till now you always managed to keep it separate from business. Now, tell me, are you getting it on with the late Senator’s daughter?”

  Martin stared him down, his eyes blazing angrily.

  “Oh, I see. Like that, is it?” Rourke said softly. “Not just a tumble, then. Are you in love with her?”

  Martin’s mouth became a hard line.

  “I lost my psychic abilities when I was promoted to captain,” Rourke said harshly. “And I’m not invading your precious privacy, because this is involved with your job and therefore my concern. Answer the question. Now.”

  “Yes. I’m in love with her.”

  Rourke closed his eyes. “Sweet leaping Jesus. I thought I’d heard everything, but this has to be it. Timmy, what is the matter with you? I knew you were working too hard; I thought this assignment would give you a break. Instead you go soft on me.”

  “I haven’t gone soft, and we’re wasting time. The killer is probably tracking Ashley as we speak. Can I go now?”

  “Stick your feet to the floor, son. I’m talking to you,” Rourke replied flatly.

  Martin stayed where he was.

  “Tim,” Rourke said in an approximation of a reasonable tone, “this girl is rich as Cleopatra. Her whole family is rolling in dough. Her father was running for President, for God’s sake. You’re a cop. How are you going to fit into that?”

  “You let me worry about it,” Martin replied shortly.

  “Do you mind if I do worry about it, since I consider myself your friend as well as your boss?”

  Martin sighed deeply and shifted his weight like a schoolboy called on the carpet by the principal. He could almost feel time passing, time that would bring the assassin closer to Ashley, and here he was, trapped with Gerald Rourke, dispenser of wisdom.

  “Tim, you’re a good-looking guy, single. I understand how it is,” Rourke said. “And God knows the girl’s a knockout; I’ve seen the pictures. If I were twenty years younger and in your situation, I’d be tempted myself. But it’s the circumstances that throw people together. She’s depending on you now. She’s scared and upset, and she wants someone to lean on through this. You’re handy, and she sees you in the role of ally and defender. Isn’t that right?”

  “You seem to be doing all the talking,” Martin replied lifelessly, eyeing his boss levelly.

  “But what if you’re just a diversion in this crisis?” Rourke continued, ignoring the younger man’s tone. “If you have nothing in common with her, it can’t last for the long haul. I know you, and you don’t risk your feelings lightly. You’ll be left out in the cold if her usual type looks good to her again once this thing is over. Have you thought of that?”

  Martin didn’t answer, but his expression indicated that he had thought of that. Often.

  “What will you do then?” Rourke demanded.

  “I’ll deal with that when the time comes, but right now I’m more interested in saving her life. Will you let me out of here so I can do that, Gerry?”

  “I can’t cover for you if you leave now,” Rourke said flatly. “Your career in the department will be over.”

  Martin ripped his shield from his pocket and tossed it on Rourke’s desk. “So it’s over.”

  Rourke shook his head sadly. “You’re going to take this on as a civilian?”

  “You leave me no choice.”

  “Vigilantes are heroes only in the movies, Tim. In real life, they wind up in jail.”

  “I’ll take that chance.”

  Martin moved toward the door, and Rourke called after him, “Tim, remember your dad.”

  Martin paused and said sarcastically, “Are we going to have old home week now, too?”

  “Remember all the time you’ve put in already,” Rourke continued, undaunted. “Are you going to give that up for some high-society dame who could be moving on to a new man next month? Please, think about it.”

  “I don’t have to think,” Martin said tightly, turning back to him.

  “I lost Maryann because of this job, and I am not going to let it jeopardize Ashley’s life. I’m going. You can’t stop a private citizen from taking a trip.”

  “Want to bet?” Rourke asked softly.

  “Then I’m asking you, as a favor, not to do it. Let me go.”

  Rourke thought a long moment, searching the younger man’s face, and then stepped aside.

  Martin brushed past him through the door, and Rourke heard his running footsteps travel down the hall.

  The police captain reached down to his desk and picked up Martin’s shield, turning it over and over in his hand.

  * * * *

  Ashley picked up the phone in the library and, like magic, an agent appeared at her side.

  “I’m afraid you can’t make any telephone calls out of the house, Miss Fair,” he said politely.

  “I’m just calling the hospital to speak to Sergeant Capo, the policeman injured when my father was... killed.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  Ashley bit her lip. “Look, Agent...” she glanced at his tag, “Agent Marks, your people spirited me out of the hospital before I could visit him, and I haven’t been in touch with him directly since. He almost lost his life trying to protect the Senator, and I think the very least he deserves is to speak to me on the phone. Now, can you arrange that or not?”

  “Please wait here and please don’t use the phone
until I return,” Marks said evenly, and disappeared.

  Yes, sir, Ashley thought to herself, saluting mentally.

  Marks came back several minutes later and said, “You can call, but I’ll remain with you.”

  “Fine,” Ashley said, willing to accept any terms that would allow her to make the call. She got the number from the operator and was put through to Capo’s room.

  The agent stood by listening, his face impassive.

  A woman’s voice answered, “Hello?”

  “Mrs. Capo?”

  “Yes?”

  “This is Ashley Fair.”

  “Oh, uh, hello,” Lorraine Capo said, taken by surprise.

  “I’m very sorry that I haven’t called before now, but I’ve been caught up in the federal security net, and it’s proving difficult to do much of anything.”

  The agent did not react to this.

  “I understand,” Lorraine said.

  “I wanted to visit your husband when he was first hurt, but I was taken away from the hospital early the next morning and didn’t have the chance.”

  “Yes, I know. Meg Drummond told me.”

  “I want you to know how much I appreciate his efforts on my behalf and my father’s,” Ashley said.

  “He was just doing his job,” Lorraine said.

  “He did it very well. May I speak to him, by any chance?”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Fair, he’s asleep. They’re keeping him knocked out most of the time. I’ll be sure to tell him you called, though.”

  “Thank you.”

  Lorraine hesitated and then said, “Miss Fair, is Tim Martin okay?”

  Ashley realized that Lorraine Capo must know something of her relationship with Martin, so she replied, “He’s fine.”

  “He’s taking all of this very hard.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “You’ll look out for him, won’t you? Don’t let him get into trouble with the Philly brass.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “Thanks. And Miss Fair, I’m sorry about your father.”

  “I know you are. Please give my message to Tony.”

  “I will. Good-bye.”

  “Good-bye.”

  Ashley hung up the phone and glanced at Agent Marks.

  “All done,” she said crisply.

  She walked out of the room, and he followed, right on her heels.

  * * * *

  It was midafternoon by the time Meg finished at campaign headquarters. She left, lugging her most essential papers in her briefcase, and went out to the parking lot. It was a sunny, warm day, the weather contrasting sharply with her mood.

  As she got closer to her car, she saw that a man was leaning against it.

  He straightened as he saw her, and she began to run.

  “Peter!” she cried. “Where on earth have you been?”

  Chapter 10

  RANSOM GRABBED her up and held her tightly, his eyes closing. He’d thought he would never see her again, and although necessity compelled him to change his plans, he was not sorry about this aspect of his misfortune.

  He had missed her.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. “I heard about the Senator. It was all over the news.” He deliberately held her against his shoulder and talked into her ear; he knew he would not be able to meet her eyes as he said those words.

  “I’m fine.”

  “I tried to get in touch with you the night it happened, but the cops had all the lines at the hotel tied up. They weren’t putting any civilians through.”

  “I know, it was chaos.” She paused and then added, “I really don’t want to talk about it, okay? Between the questions from cops and reporters, I’m all talked out, and I’d just like to be with you and forget it for a while.”

  “All right,” he said. “But I’m so glad you weren’t hurt.” He had made sure of that, at his own expense.

  “Peter, I tried to reach you, but I couldn’t,” Meg said, her voice muffled by his jacket. “I called your office, and a recorded announcement answered saying that the number was no longer in service.”

  “It was changed. I should have told you about it. I’ll give you the new one later,” Ransom replied, holding her away from him to look down into her face.

  “But why didn’t the announcement say that the number had been changed? They do that first and then give you the new one.”

  “How should I know, Meg? It sounds like the phone company made a mistake.”

  “And your answering machine wasn’t on. The phone just rang and rang.”

  “I must have forgotten to put it on. I left in kind of a hurry. I was late getting out and didn’t want to miss my plane.”

  “But...” Meg said, her brow furrowing.

  He put his hand over her mouth. “Are you going to ask me a million questions or are we going to get out of this parking lot and make up for lost time?”

  Meg fell silent, putting aside her confusion for the moment. Whatever had happened, he was back now, and she was too happy about that to conduct an inquisition.

  “Where do you want to go?” she asked. “Do you want to drive back to your apartment?”

  “No, that’s too far. I can’t wait that long to be with you. Let’s just get a hotel room.”

  “Here in town?”

  “Let’s drive out into the country, okay? An inn. There’s a bunch of them around here.”

  “All right. Where’s your car?”

  “I had some trouble with it. When I got back from my trip, it wouldn’t start. I had it towed from the airport to an auto-repair place. It’s being fixed now.”

  “So how did you get here?”

  “I booked a one-way rental, dropped it off in town. I’m afraid our only transportation is your chariot here.”

  “That’s okay, no problem. None of the tires appear to be flat at the moment.”

  “Where were you going when you came out just now?” he asked carefully.

  “I was going to drive back to the Fair estate.”

  “Can that wait?”

  “Long enough for us to be together, certainly,” she whispered, leaning into him.

  “Good.”

  He took her hand and kissed it, then stood aside as she unlocked the door of her car and handed him the keys. He was just turning to get in when a police car screeched in the distance, coming closer to them, siren wailing.

  Ransom froze, his head jerking around sharply in the direction of the noise.

  “What is it?” Meg asked.

  He didn’t answer, peering into the distance with an intent expression.

  “It’s just a squad car chasing somebody in felony shoes,” Meg said. “What’s the matter with you?”

  Ransom looked at her then, and his face visibly relaxed. “Oh, I don’t like sirens. I always think an ambulance is coming.”

  The police car blew past them, screaming shrilly, red and blue light rotating. Meg nudged Ransom, who was still leaning in the door of the car, fixed in the same posture.

  “Let’s go,” she said, and walked around to the passenger side of the car.

  Ransom got behind the wheel and started the motor, moving quickly to conceal how much his hands were shaking.

  “Are you feeling all right?” Meg asked as he left the lot and pulled out into the stream of traffic. Her voice was concerned.

  “Why do you ask?” he said, wondering if he would be able to keep up his act as long as he had to; it was obviously showing signs of falling apart.

  “You seem... shaky... or something. Are you sick?”

  “I haven’t been feeling well lately. Maybe I’m coming down with a bug.”

  Meg surveyed him closely. “It’s true, you don’t look so hot.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be better with you here,” he said confidently.

  “Why? I’m not an antibiotic.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Am I to understand that you missed me?” Meg asked.

  “You can unders
tand that, yes.”

  “A lot?”

  “A lot,” he confirmed.

  “How did the trip go?”

  “The trip?”

  “Your business trip, dummy, the one that took you away in the first place.”

  “Oh, yeah, it was fine.”

  “Fine. That’s all you can say?”

  “I saw a shopping mall, Meg, like a thousand others. They all look the same.”

  “Then why did you have to go there?”

  “I wanted to check the location and traffic pattern in person, talk to the mall manager about the amount of business he did and the draw from the surrounding towns. It was something I really couldn’t do over the phone.”

  “Okay, okay, don’t get testy.” She slid over next to him and put her hand on his thigh. “Exactly how far is this country inn we’ve been talking about?”

  He pulled a travel brochure from his pocket and handed it to her. “I got this when I returned the car,” he said. “There’s a place about ten miles from here. Swanleigh.”

  “Swanleigh? Aren’t we grand? Will Queen Elizabeth the First and Leicester be there to greet us?” She examined the pamphlet and began to read aloud,describing the hotel’s appointments.

  Ransom had consulted a map before he met Meg that day, and found the inn with no trouble. It was located on the end of a country road that fed off a state highway, isolated enough to attract romantics but close enough to the main arteries to attract tourists. The grounds were in full bloom at this time of year, and on weekends the place was usually booked solid.

  But for an extra hundred passed over the desk there was always room.

  They registered as Mr. and Mrs. Peter Ransom. He didn’t care about using the name; once he eliminated the Fair girl, he would be out of the country in a matter of hours.

  But he had to find her first.

  They were shown to an airy room on the second floor with a splendid view of the gardens below them. Meg went to the bay window, exclaiming over the flowers. Ransom followed close behind her, circling her waist with his arms.

  “Forget the hibiscus,” he said. “Concentrate on me.”

  “With pleasure,” Meg replied, spinning around to face him.

  When he kissed her, he almost lost his nerve. Was he really about to use her again, this woman who had given him more in the short time he’d known her than anyone else in his life? Why couldn’t he just stay here with her, in this blossom-laden paradise, and take his chances? The police weren’t magicians, and he had covered his tracks.