by Lisa Durkin
“I’m fine, really, Uncle Landon.” She smiled meekly and swung the car door open. “I’ll talk to you later in the week then. Remember, HHS and Energy and Commerce are important.”
“The party has already agreed to those, so you should be all set.”
“No Homeland Security,” she added.
“We’re all aware you want no part in that.” He placed his hands on the steering wheel. “Now get inside and have a good night.”
Rory smiled and stepped onto the sidewalk. She closed the car door and waved as he pulled away. The January air was chilly but very mild as DC winters go. Walking to the building, she fished around for her keys and unlocked the heavy door. She stopped at the mailboxes and unlocked the little gold slot bearing her condo number. Even though it was Sunday, it occurred to her that she hadn’t checked the mail. Finding the box empty, she relocked it and turned toward the hall.
As she was walking toward her front door, she realized it didn’t look right. As she got closer, she saw the door was open. It was pulled against the jamb so that it wasn’t standing ajar, but the door was definitely not closed. She stopped and stared. A chill ran down her spine. She stared at the knob. Thoughts shot like lightning bolts through her mind. Had somebody broken into her condo? What if they were still in there? Had she left the door open herself? Maybe she neglected to close and lock her door when she left for work this morning. And then she thought of Aidan’s family.
She shook her head and looked in both directions down the hall. Choosing to be brave and believe it was her own stupidity, she pushed the door open and peered inside. Nothing seemed out of place. She poked her head inside and, seeing no movement, stepped in. It was dark, but the streetlight outside the front window cast enough light to see most of the room. She gently set her bags on the floor and very slowly and quietly took three or four steps forward, into the open living space.
She looked around slowly, her heart in her throat. Very gingerly, she made a circle of the living space. Nothing struck her as out of the ordinary. She quietly and slowly walked toward the kitchen area, making a wide wake between herself and the bar as she leaned over and looked behind it. She breathed out. Steeling herself, she headed down the hall to her bedroom.
The bedroom door was halfway closed, but she often left it like that. Quickly and not caring about the noise, she slammed the door back against the wall. She marched to the closet and opened it quickly and with aggression. She swiped her arm through it just to make sure nobody was hiding there. She checked the bathroom and marched into the spare bedroom and second bathroom, repeating the process. As she closed the closet in the second bedroom, she cursed under her breath. She decided she must not have pulled the door all the way closed. Feeling more comfortable even though she was massively irritated, she walked back out to the front door and made sure it was closed and the lock engaged.
She tried to forget about it and get ready for bed. She was tense and her nerves were frayed. As she showered, her thoughts drifted over the work she had completed during the day, and then to dinner at Nicole’s and the announcement. As Rory lay back in bed and tried to relax, she thought how very happy she was for the Daileys. They were good people and good friends to her.
As she rolled onto her side, she thought how lonely she was returning to this empty house. She closed her eyes and remembered the feel of Jackson’s arms around her, so warm and strong. It was nice feeling his broad, large frame up against the length of her body, sharing his heat with her. That had felt really good.
She turned onto her back and sighed, trying to clear her mind and begging sleep to wash over her. As her eyes closed and she started to relax, one last thought drifted through her mind: She had never, ever in her life forgotten to close and lock her door.
Chapter Four
“Now, we’re going to go meet up with Daddy, sweetheart, and have a little talk about why it’s not nice to side with the FBI over the man you married, you fucking bitch.” Aidan jerked her hard against the seat and told the driver, one of his assistants, to head for I-90.
“Where are we going, where’s Daddy?” Her head was down, her hand to her face as she tried to catch her breath. The pain was sharp. Her eye was swelling and watering profusely. Her breath and voice echoed, causing ringing stabs of pain in her head.
“Daddy is waiting for you at the farmhouse, sweetheart. He’s had a hell of a morning. We’ve been chatting about loyalty and what can happen to family when they go against their own.” He hissed the words at her in his Irish brogue while pulling her head back by her hair. She shrieked as he leaned in and kissed her hard on the lips. “How was work today, dear?”
“You son of a bitch. If you’ve hurt him I’ll kill you.” She was rewarded with another fist to her face that split her lip open. Blood spurted out.
“Right, you’ll kill me. Look at you. You are the worst wife a man could possibly have. Who would put up with such disloyal behavior from his own wife? What did you take me for, you stupid cunt, some jerk-off who wouldn’t take care of his own?” He rained punches down her back. As each punch landed he called her another name. “Cunt, bitch, whore.” The blows kept coming. Fear sliced through her as the air was knocked from her lungs.
Finally, he moved to the other side of the seat, pushing her over hard. He panted. “You shut the fuck up now, bitch. Sit there and don’t make a sound until we get to the farm and maybe I won’t kill you.” He spat with each word.
She curled into the fetal position to protect her stomach and held her head. Her eye and lips were swelling quickly and blood and tears mixed with her hair. In sheer panic, she held as still as possible. Breathing slowly, she tried to assuage the pain. She would stay perfectly still and silent and try to think of what to do. Their farmhouse was so remote. Rory’s father had bought it for the family as a getaway for precisely that reason. She would try to devise a plan of action before they reached the farmhouse. But fear and pain were gripping her mind. She must think of what to do, how to get out of this and help her father.
Rory woke to the sound of her own scream. She was curled in the fetal position with her arms wrapped tightly around her head. As she realized where she was, she tried to slow her breathing and relax her clenched muscles. She moved slowly, unwrapping herself. Doused with sweat, she sat up and looked at the clock. Five a.m. She dragged herself out of bed and headed to the bathroom for a drink of water.
She held the glass under the faucet, her hands shaking hard. She set the glass down and gripped the sink, hanging her head. She’d had nightmares over and over in the first couple of years after the incident and was so happy when they subsided. They made her sad and scared, but it also made her angry as hell. She didn’t need the constant reminder. She needed to be fresh to deal with the business of representing her people in Congress. She pushed off the sink. She would go for a run to clear her head.
“What are you doing here? You didn’t mention you liked to run.” Rory jogged in place as Jackson Dorn caught up with her.
“I use the treadmill in my condo, but I decided to join in when I saw you heading out into the darkness alone. You really should be more cautious. We may live in a pretty safe neighborhood, but you know as well as I do that it’s still dangerous for anyone to run alone in the dark.”
“Well, I guess I’ve been doing it for so long, and this is a pretty safe neighborhood… I just needed to get out and run…” Her words trailed off.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’m fine.”
He looked down at her as they jogged along. She wasn’t fine. He’d known her for about five minutes, but he could tell she was pretty upset. And it bothered him.
“Has something happened at work that has you upset?”
“Not yet, so far so good there.”
“Then what, Rory?” He reached out and grabbed her elbow, drawing her to a stop in front of the Georgetown University Library. She put her hands on her knees, her breath curling in the chilly air. “Tell me. You
seem pretty upset.”
“I guess I need to do a better job of hiding it then. I don’t need pity.”
“Nobody pities you, cut the shit. Tell me.” Her pretty face looked even more pale, he thought. “Out with it.”
“Fine. Last night I got home around nine o’clock. When I arrived, my front door was open.”
“What do you mean your door was open?”
“I mean, when I approached my door, I found that I must not have closed it all the way when I left, so it was open.” She held up a hand when he started to interrupt her. “I entered the condo very cautiously and checked every room and everything was where I left it and nobody was hiding in any closets,” she said, as alarmed anger spread throughout his body.
He felt her aloneness. “So that certainly spooked you, I imagine. So much so that you’re still upset over it this morning.”
“Well, I’m more upset because the door situation brought on some nightmares.” She began to run again. He absorbed what she said and caught up with her, striding alongside her.
“Nightmares, huh?”
“Yeah, I’m prone to them. I don’t know what triggers them normally, but I bet that was what happened this time. The open door thing triggered the nightmare.” It felt good that she was talking to him.
“So you have them often?” He continued when she was silent. “Obviously you might not feel comfortable talking to me about this. I mean, you just met me and I’m not a friend yet.” He stressed the word as he tilted his head sideways and smiled. “But I think we could be friends, Morgan. And as friends, I wouldn’t use any personal information you shared with me for any political purposes.”
She turned her head and looked him in the eye. They ran another block in silence before she said, “We better turn around.”
Finally she asked, “Why do you want to be friends with me?” She spoke so calmly and gently that it seemed she was afraid of the answer.
Because I want to fuck you, was the first thought that popped into Jackson’s head, and he started laughing. “What do you mean why do I want to be friends with you? You’re a cool chick, Morgan. You’re interesting and smart. Who wouldn’t want to be friends with you?”
She snorted. “Well, while I totally agree, it still makes me suspicious.”
“Tell you what. How about you come back to my place and I cook you breakfast before we head to the Hill today?”
Rory turned her head again and looked at him. “Depends on how bad of a cook you are.”
“I’m terrible. Come see.”
“Okay. In the name of friendship I’ll suffer through your attempt at home cooking.”
As they stopped for Jackson to unlock his door Rory eyed her own suspiciously. She reached out and jiggled the knob.
“So your door was open?” Jackson held his door open for Rory to enter in front of him. He looked back at her door.
“I’m sure I just didn’t pull it closed all the way.”
“We’ll have to take a look at the knob. It may need to be replaced.”
Jackson ushered Rory to a seat at the kitchen bar. He went to work putting bacon in a pan to fry, setting the bar and pouring glasses of orange juice. “So tell me what you’ll be busy with this week.”
“I’m going to be busy negotiating the appropriations EPA needs for my shipyard. I’m hoping I can count on your support, Dorn.”
“We’ll see about that. Who are you looking to get a vote out of beside me?”
Rory rattled off the list of the coveted eleven. She outlined her reasoning and reviewed her proposed approach. He listened intently, laying a plate of bacon and eggs in front of her and taking his seat.
“Wednesday I’m having lunch with a few of the members of the committee. You’re welcome to join us. Arness and Moore will be there at least, if not more of them on your list,” he said and popped bacon into his mouth.
“Thanks, I appreciate that. I’ll be there. Just tell me where and when.”
“McGovern’s Steakhouse, twelve-thirty, Wednesday. The reservation is under my name. Be there or be square,” he quipped before draining his orange juice glass and setting it back on the counter with a tap. “Now, if you’re finished choking down my horrific cooking, go get ready for work and I’ll share my ride with you.”
“Well, it was an effort. But I think with a little luck I just may be able to keep it down.” She smiled and rose to clear her plate. He watched her as, without thinking, she scraped her dish into the garbage can and rinsed it in the sink. When she was finished, she wiped her hands on the dish towel and moved toward the door. “Give me half an hour.”
Jackson leaned back and smiled at the comfort level they were building.
Chapter Five
Rory arrived at her office to find Nicole already there, alone and on the phone working to make appointments with the eleven members of the Appropriations Committee. As Rory grabbed a cup of coffee, she could hear Nicole talking.
“Tell the representative that Nicole Dailey from Congresswoman Morgan’s office phoned to set an appointment to review legislation and discuss mutual agendas. Yes, thank you.” She hung up and Rory walked in, sipping her coffee.
“You’re at it early this morning,” Rory said as she sat down, cupping her mug.
“Yes, I wanted to get started on Morgan’s Eleven.” Nicole winked.
“Well, Prego, what do you have for me?” They smiled at each other at the endearment Rory always used when Nicole was expecting.
“I have appointments for you with Richards and Marshall for tomorrow. I left messages with Brown and Donnelly’s people and they said they’d get back to me today. I’ll harass them again tomorrow morning if I haven’t heard back from them.” She handed Rory a sheet of paper with all the information on it including the meeting dates, times and locations.
“I’m having lunch with Arness and Moore on Wednesday,” Rory announced as she held the paper in front of her face, taking another sip from her mug.
“How’d you manage a lunch, newbie?”
“I’m magic,” Rory said, smiling slyly.
“I know, so what kind of wand did you wave?”
“Honestly, and don’t give me crap about it, Dorn invited me.”
Nicole held her eyes. “He’s very handy, Ror. I like this one.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
“You’ve made that abundantly clear, Prego. It must be the hormones.”
“Yes, you should get yourself a set.” She smiled brightly.
Over the next two days, Rory worked on strategy to secure the rest of the necessary votes from the Appropriations Committee. By mid-morning Wednesday she had commitments from five of the eleven. Along with Brown, she had confirmed Donnelly, Marshall, Richards and Goodhouse. Rory sat at her desk and reviewed the manner in which the vote was coming together. Counting Dorn, she had six of the eleven, and was feeling very confident.
As she sat at her desk and reflected on the vote, her mind wandered to her father and how proud this would have made him. She recalled him beaming during her swearing-in ceremony on city council. How she wished he could see her now. How she wished she could have saved him from Aidan. Rory stared at a blank space on her desk as she recalled the look on her father’s face when he helped the FBI convince her of what Aidan really was. In that shabby beige room at the Federal Building. She would never forget that look on his face, and once again, tried not to feel responsible for bringing that monster into their lives.
A knock on her door brought her back to her office in DC. The door opened and a smiling, flushed Jill escorted Jackson Dorn inside.
“Thank you, Jill, was it?” Jackson said, flashing his neon smile in her direction. Rory lifted her eyebrows as the young administrative assistant giggled and blushed again, closing the door behind her.
“Do you have to corrupt my staff with your incessant flirting?” Rory asked dryly as she began to straighten the papers and files on her desk.
“Jealous?” Jackson quipped.
&nb
sp; “You wish.”
“Maybe I do. You ready to go to the luncheon?”
Rory grabbed her coat and bag, ignoring Dorn’s comment. As they walked through the outer office, she gave some last-minute instructions to staff. Then they were walking down the corridor toward the side entrance of the Rayburn Building. Rory reflected on how comfortable she and Dorn had become with each other. She still didn’t know whether this was a good thing or a lapse in judgment on her part, but she was going with it.
At times as they were walking he put his hand on her elbow or lower back as he moved over to allow people to pass them. It all seemed so natural. They had been spending time together and getting to know each other better courtesy of their morning runs. Citing the buddy system, Dorn had decided he would do his exercise with Rory every morning and had been meeting her at her door at six a.m. Although Rory had declined the breakfast invitations, she did accept the rides to work, offering to chip in on the car service. Dorn had agreed, but thus far had not answered when she requested to know how much she could pay him to split the service.
As they climbed into the backseat of the livery car, Rory strategically set her bag between them. Jackson smiled, as he did every time she made effort to keep her barriers intact. As they rode to the restaurant, they made conversation about who would be at the luncheon and about the agenda that would be discussed during the business meeting.
The restaurant manager ran down the list of preparations as he walked them to the private dining room. Rory made note of how calm and collected Jackson seemed as he listened and smiled, and stopped twice to shake hands with men who were having lunch in the main room. In the private suite, Jackson looked over the room and the menu and thanked the gentleman who was obviously relieved that all had met with his approval. As the waitstaff took their drink orders, men in suits began arriving.