Attracted to Fire

by DiAnn Mills

Burnette walked across the room and embraced her again. “Do you have my favorite peach pudding pie for dessert?”

  “I do.”

  “Shall we break into the liquor cabinet and give Ethan the send-off he deserves?”

  Pepper’s laughter rang throughout the room. “Sounds like a great idea.”

  Meghan clenched her jaw to keep from expressing how she felt about Burnette going against the president’s orders by consuming alcohol while Lindsay was at the ranch. At least she was upstairs. She glanced at Ash, whose face held the same disgust as her own.

  For that matter, Ethan Leonard didn’t drink.

  Chapter 38

  Ash stood near the helipad and waved at Burnette. Once the helicopter took flight, he walked back to the house.

  His first mission was to apologize to Meghan. Burnette’s derogatory remark about her had angered him while driving back from the funeral, but he never thought the president’s press secretary would repeat it. Ash should have said something then. In the past, Burnette had been in the presence of the president, and his impeccable manners were one of the things Ash had admired. Until today.

  Pepper lingered with them, her spiked, white hair glistening in the sun. “Wonderful man. I’m proud to be working for him. Plus he likes my cooking.”

  “I still think he has a cast-iron stomach.”

  “You’re just not a good ol’ boy from the South. Now, I have a mess to clean up.” She hurried on ahead.

  Ash glanced at his watch. He turned his attention to Victor, Rick, and Trey. “I need to talk to Meghan before I meet with you in the operation room. Victor, would you check on the latest in DC? I won’t be long.”

  Once inside, Ash made his way up the stairs. He’d realized something this afternoon that had emotionally toppled him. Not sure if he knew what to do about it, but the awareness, the understanding, scared him. He needed time to think about what this meant to his well-oiled, detailed life and his career.

  When he didn’t find Meghan outside Lindsay’s room, he knocked on the door. “Meghan, this is Ash. Do you have a minute?”

  The lock clicked from behind the door. Lindsay had been serious about avoiding Burnette. In Ash’s opinion, her absence from lunch was a good thing, considering the patronizing attitude Burnette had toward their protectee—and the alcohol. He and Pepper were the only ones who indulged. The door opened, and the female agent who had upset his world smiled.

  “Yes?”

  “Can I talk to you for a few minutes?” He saw the hallway was empty. “Out here is fine.”

  She closed the door behind her and faced him. She’d changed from business dress to jeans and a light green top that looked really great with her red hair. Everything about her looked exceptional.

  “I want to apologize for what Burnette said to you.”

  She pressed her lips—lips he remembered kissing. “It’s not the first time a comment like that has been made about a female agent.”

  “Well, I don’t approve.”

  She tilted her head as though trying to figure him out. “But you don’t believe in women agents.”

  Now how did he get out of this one? “I basically don’t. But you’re a part of my team, and therein lies the difference. You’re a good agent, professional 100 percent.”

  “Thank you, and I appreciate the apology. Although it wasn’t needed.”

  He swallowed, wishing his feelings would find a comfortable place to light. “I don’t think you or Lindsay got any lunch.”

  “We didn’t, and we’re both starved.”

  “The coast is clear, so you’d better grab some food before Pepper puts it all away.”

  With her head still tilted, she laughed softly. “You know, Ash, you’re a decent guy, despite all the stories about you.”

  “Don’t repeat that. I like the tough-guy reputation.”

  She touched his arm, and Lindsay’s bedroom door opened. Meghan whipped back her hand.

  “Watch it, you two. I saw that. Want to hear my predictions?”

  “Absolutely not,” Meghan said. “Hey, Lindsay, let’s go get something to eat.”

  Lindsay giggled, but neither Ash nor Meghan joined in.

  Downstairs, Ash entered the operation room, shaking off his response to Meghan’s touch. He needed to focus on updating himself with the happenings in DC. He slid into a chair and typed in his password. He turned to Victor.

  “Note anything out of the ordinary?”

  “Media are questioning how the new president will be able to handle domestic affairs and continue his work with foreign policy, especially with the October Middle East Peace Summit.”

  “Good question. He was committed to bringing Arab countries and the Western world to the peace table. Any word from the White House?”

  “Not yet. But with Burnette here for the funeral, kinda hard to make a statement.”

  Ash clicked into Lindsay’s personal e-mail, a daily habit. Nothing suspicious had been sent to her account for days—that is, nothing he couldn’t trace for legitimacy.

  But today was different.

  Hey, Lindsay,

  I’ve missed you at the parties, and you’re not keeping in touch with your friends. Just in case you’ve forgotten, I know your location. Did you think I was kidding before? Too bad about the murdered agent. But I wanted you to see that I’m serious. I need to talk to you before something else happens to another one of those prized Secret Service agents assigned to you. You know how to contact me.

  Ash studied the message. This one, like the others, didn’t have the typical twenties-crowd lingo. An attempt here and there, but the sender probably wasn’t her age, or English was a second language. The drug cartel had decided to come out of their hole again. He sent a tracer and waited. Another e-mail came in for her.

  Hey, Lindsay,

  The Secret Service and all of their buds can look all they want, but they won’t find me.

  Give in and let’s get together. We could have as much fun as in the old days. Glad to hear you’re not saddled with Ash, the ass, like in DC. So a woman has taken his spot. She’s a looker. Could go for her myself, but I like your body curled up next to mine. When can I see you? You don’t need e-mail to get in touch.

  Ash noted neither e-mail could be traced. “Looks like our stalker is on the loose again.”

  Victor frowned. “Another e-mail?”

  “Two, and he’s getting bolder. Take a look at this. What do you think?” Ash slowly rose to his feet and stared out at the pool while Victor evaluated the message.

  The writer said Lindsay didn’t need e-mail to contact him. Did she have a phone stashed away? If not, that meant someone at the Dancin’ Dust had direct contact with the stalker.

  When Ash sent a response, the message came back undeliverable.

  Chapter 39

  Lindsay used the many hours of the next week to read, watch her treasured classic movies, horseback ride, walk, and write the songs of her heart. No longer did she worry about someone criticizing her words or the melody, because those around her supported her. Some of the agents did so out of duty, but others like Meghan, Victor, Bob, and Ash were genuine. She could see it in their eyes. Almost like family—the family she’d always wanted.

  Cravings for alcohol and cocaine haunted her, but she found the longer she stayed with Dave’s treatment plan, the easier it became. She desperately wanted to stay clean, but the demon might have other plans. For certain, the last few years had her dangling from marionette strings.

  Just when she felt courageous enough to escape the nightmare, the memories emerged along with the threats. What she knew trapped her more than the four walls that supposedly kept her predators away.

  Last night, as she lay in bed, she thought again about the impact of her death and realized that if she were dead, nothing would stop him. But now people were dying as the demon grew more audacious. Lindsay smiled at her word choice. Reading had increased her vocabulary. In fact, she enjoyed learning. Once, her sister,
Kelli, told her intelligence was why she often became depressed.

  “You think too much.” Kelli had spoken those words with a hint of teasing, but Lindsay had seen through it.

  The two were walking along a parklike setting at boarding school. Kelli was fifteen and Lindsay was twelve. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re too smart. I work for my grades, and you never study.”

  “It’s boring. Besides, who cares?”

  “If you don’t believe Mom and Dad do, which is a lie, then do it for yourself. You could skip a grade with no problem at all.”

  Lindsay giggled to cover her heartache. “There’s no point when no one cares.”

  “Someday you’ll see how wrong you are.”

  The next Saturday night, Lindsay smoked her first joint. She hungered for anything to replace her parents’ lack of love.

  “Lindsay, didn’t you hear me? I just bought Boardwalk.”

  Her attention flew to the middle-aged woman with shoulder-length graying hair. “I’d rather play poker. This game lasts forever.”

  A smile tugged at the corners of Carla’s mouth. “What kind of poker?”

  “Texas hold ’em.”

  “You’ll lose. I’m the poker queen.” Carla reached into her purse and presented a pack of cards.

  Lindsay laughed. “You carry a poker deck in your purse?”

  Carla wiggled her shoulders. “You betcha. I worked my way through nursing school by playing poker. What are we betting?”

  She glanced around the room. “I have no money. Hey, Pepper has a huge bag of flavored jelly beans in the pantry.”

  “Oh, sweet treats. That would work.”

  Lindsay feigned shock. “Carla, what would Dave say?”

  “We’re betting them, not eating them—as far as he’s concerned.” Her eyes twinkled. Why hadn’t Lindsay seen this side of her before?

  “You’re on. But the popcorn ones are my favorite.”

  Carla leaned closer. “I like the jalapeño. But don’t tell A2Z. He’d kick me off the ranch.”

  “Our secret.”

  Lindsay watched Carla, the matron nurse, shuffle the cards like a pro. “You look like a blackjack dealer.”

  Carla lifted a brow. “I’ve done that too.”

  Lindsay scrutinized her with new interest. “What else have you done?”

  She continued to shuffle, the riffling sound filling the room. “A cocktail waitress before I danced in a topless bar. Then I learned how to play poker.”

  Lindsay couldn’t stop the laughter. This middle-aged, plump woman had danced topless? “You what?”

  “Lindsay, I’m sorry to interrupt your therapeutic session with Carla, but I have a call for you.”

  She spun to see Meghan, who peered at the deck of cards. “It’s Scottard Burnette.”

  She didn’t want to talk to him. Reminders . . . all reminders. “Can you tell him I’m busy?”

  “Right. I see the poker cards.”

  “Busted.” Carla’s response was funny, despite the sickening feeling in the pit of Lindsay’s stomach.

  “Please tell him I’m in a counseling session.”

  Meghan gave him Lindsay’s answer. “He says it’s important. Has to do with your father.”

  Lindsay held her breath and reached for the phone. She was tucked away here and not causing any problems. What else did he want? “Hi, Uncle Scottard.”

  “How’s my Lindsay?”

  Acid rose in her throat, her familiar response to Burnette’s prodding. “Following the rules. Taking my supplements.”

  “Wonderful. I missed you at Ethan’s funeral. Hope you’re feeling better.”

  She cringed. “Depends on the day.”

  “I’m so proud of you. Your father is anxious to see you, and I told him it would be soon. Right?”

  “Yes. Soon.”

  “I’d like for you to walk outside where Agent Connors cannot hear our conversation.”

  She obeyed, begging for any deity to stop the whirlwind of terror that this man caused. “I’m on the front porch.”

  “Walk out into the yard, near the large tree.”

  Again she did as he bid. “I’m here.”

  “While I was at the Dancin’ Dust, I hid a treat for you.”

  Lindsay’s mouth went dry. “That’s not necessary.”

  “Yes, it is. It’s what keeps you alive. It’s the candy that helps you cope with your pitiful life. Worthless, too, I may add. You’ll find my gift in a locked tack box in the stable. The one labeled with my name. The key is on the peg in the stall of the horse you normally ride.”

  She pressed her lips to keep from screaming. The nightmare had begun again.

  “I have some great news.”

  Dread inched across her heart and crashed into her senses. She closed her eyes and willed it all to disappear.

  “Lindsay, don’t you want to hear the news?”

  “Not really.”

  “Your father has appointed me vice president. He doesn’t have time to continue his work with foreign policy, and the Middle East Peace Summit in October is top priority for him.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do a wonderful job.”

  “Oh, do I hear sarcasm? I expect your full support. Of course, my new role requires Congress’s approval. But I don’t think I have any worries.”

  Does Dad have any idea what this appointment could mean? “I don’t imagine I’ll be scheduling a Barry Knight interview about your new position.”

  He chuckled. “That’s not on the agenda.”

  “I intend to stay clean and sober.”

  “But I have another surprise for you. There’s a key to the liquor cabinet just for you. The Dancin’ Dust must be driving you crazy.”

  “I told you I’m finished with drugs and alcohol.”

  He laughed, and the sound terrified her. “Not as long as you’re taking orders from me. The key is in the kitchen, in the back of the silverware drawer.”

  “Why? You’ve been nominated as vice president. What else do you want?”

  “That’s my business.”

  “Can’t you simply stop with your demands?”

  “Not yet. I have plans. A little celebration is in order, don’t you think? Take care, Lindsay. I hope you understand the weight of the country is on your shoulders.”

  How could she forget?

  Chapter 40

  After her shift on Saturday afternoon, Meghan walked through the stables, missing Ethan and the lightheartedness he’d offered to their remote location. She remembered his teasing, his love, his charm. Luke was a diligent worker but not a conversationalist.

  Burnette had indicated Chip would be joining them soon. Now that the former press secretary was vice president, referred to as Copilot, he’d probably get the job done. Both Houses had affirmed his nomination, despite the opposing party’s majority in the Senate. Most of the voters rallied behind President Hall, and although he was taking cautious steps, national opinion gave his approval rating in the midsixties. Media were furious, but only the political extremists were listening.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  Meghan turned to Ash, a smile whipping at the corners of her mouth. Heaven help her, but her heart had plummeted with this man, and if she was reading his body language correctly, he had the same problem. But she’d not mention the situation. After all, he held the title of SAIC.

  “Company sounds good. Just missing Ethan.”

  “Me too. A good man. Warrington just called. Couldn’t find a thing to connect Chip to Wade’s murder or any of the other crimes of late. He’ll be back here in a few days.”

  “The VP must have gotten his way.” Burnette’s discourteous remark still stung, and her respect for him had diminished. She considered he’d just buried a friend, and grief asserted itself in sundry ways. But his remarks and behavior were unprofessional.

  “Let’s hope Chip changes his mind and heads back to Dallas. His presence could be to Lindsay’s detriment.”


  “Is she having a session with Dave?”

  Ash nodded. “And not a good one. Heard a few words from her that I haven’t been privy to in a long time.”

  “She’s been in a bad mood for a couple of days.” Meghan could trace her switch to the day Vice President Burnette called. “Earlier in the week she talked about mending the relationship with her parents.”

  “Must be tough with the realization she’ll never be free of the desire for drugs.”

  “True. But sometimes God takes away addictions.”

  “You don’t talk much about your faith.”

  She laughed. “It’s not a subject that normally comes up when securing a protectee. However, prayers should be a part of protocol.”

  “I’m right with you. Makes me wonder what people do without God.”

  “They’re miserable.”

  Another nuance about A2Z. Lord, do You know where my heart is leading?

  “I have a question.” He glanced about. “Are we alone?”

  Surely this wasn’t about the two of them. If so, she might run. She rubbed her clammy palms. “Yes. Luke is out riding.”

  “What I’m about to say is complicated.”

  Meghan’s heart stepped out of her comfort zone. “Are you sure I’m the right person to talk to?”

  He stopped to pat a chestnut gelding. “You’re not naive, Meghan. You know what I’m about to say . . . or ask.”

  “The VPPD?” Maybe Warrington had offered him the position.

  “Do I have to spell it out? Because you’re making this hard for a man who is accustomed to dealing with fact, detail, procedure—not feelings.”

  “I think I understand.” She whispered her response as if someone might hear.

  “This requires a simple yes or no. From there, I’ll have the information needed to take the next step.”

  She blinked. Did he analyze everything in his life? If he wanted to discuss a possible relationship, he probably had a spreadsheet in his pocket charting the pros and cons.

  “I’d like to tell you why I’ve had an aversion to women in the Secret Service.”

  Relief flooded through her. “I’ve wondered what brought you to that decision.”