by Debra Webb
She didn’t have to answer. The truth was written all over her face. She saw it in his eyes the moment he looked squarely at her after he’d asked the question.
“You want it all.” His head slowly moved from side to side. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that fairy tales don’t exist? This is the real world, Caroline. Nothing is ever perfect. You can’t have it all, contrary to popular belief, it simply doesn’t exist.”
“But I want it all,” she refuted. “I want love, lifetime commitment, children.” She shrugged. “I intend to have the whole fantasy.”
He lowered his voice, glanced covertly at their guard and said, “There are drugs for delusions, Caroline. Good drugs. Let me get my ’script pad.”
She had to laugh, because she knew from the wicked gleam in his eyes that he was kidding. “You are truly a rotten friend,” she tossed back. “I don’t know why I keep you.” She poked a succulent wedge of roast pork into her mouth and grinned.
“Because I tell you the truth,” he said and took another bite himself. “Because I care about you and I would never lie to you. I can’t help you with the calls and the letter. My best guess would be that it’s someone on the inside with access to tapes of Justin’s voice and samples of his handwriting. Whoever is behind these incidents is someone who probably wants you out of the way.”
“I agree. I just can’t fathom the reasoning. Especially now that Justin is back.”
Dennis shrugged. “Who knows? There are some real psychos out there. Keep your people on it.” He rested his hand on hers. “As far as your relationship with Justin. Go for it. You both deserve to be happy.”
Caroline decided he was right on all counts. She did deserve to be happy. So did Justin. And life didn’t carry any guarantees. Waiting on certainties was foolish. One could only go for it and hope for the best.
“You’re right, Dennis.” She smiled with genuine affection for her old friend. “You always are.”
CAIN WALKED directly behind Caroline as she moved back through the restaurant’s kitchen headed for the rear exit with her friend, Dennis Patrick, at her side. Copeland and his team were in position around them, a barrier from any and all threat. But Cain’s senses had gone on alert.
Something was wrong. He studied Dr. Patrick as he moved alongside Caroline. The smile, his relaxed posture. The security team looked sharp and ready. Yet, every instinct warned Cain that a move was about to be made.
Outside, the parking lot was still devoid of other vehicles. Only those related to Caroline’s arrival and Patrick’s occupied the too-quiet setting. Cain surveyed the area, the surrounding rooftops and rear exits of shops and found nothing out of place.
Yet something was.
“We should go,” he urged Caroline.
She managed a tight smile, but her eyes were questioning before she turned to her friend. “Thanks for coming, Dennis.” She pressed her cheek to his.
“Any time.” He gave her a little two-fingered salute. “Keep in touch, Madam President.” He looked in Cain’s direction. “Good to see you again, Justin. Stay well.”
Cain pushed a smile into place and nodded.
He had a feeling that the last had been a mere formality. Ignoring Caroline’s husband would not have been proper etiquette.
Patrick turned to go. The hair on the back of Cain’s neck stood on end. The flash of something in his peripheral vision jerked his head around.
Without thought or hesitation he shoved Caroline to the ground, absorbing the impact of a bullet a mere fraction of a second after she was out of its path. The inertia of his move combined with the force of the bullet sent him slamming into Patrick. They both tumbled to the ground.
More shots were fired.
Running feet.
Silence.
Chapter Seven
Caroline paced the floor back at the safe house. Copeland had insisted she not accompany Justin to the closest medical clinic. Her husband had insisted as well that his injury was nothing more than a mere flesh wound. Neither man would give an inch and since Justin refused to leave for the clinic until she’d been taken to the safe house, she’d had little choice.
She paused now, halfway across the front room, surveying through the window the long driveway that wound through the trees and toward the highway two miles from her location. She didn’t remember her husband being so courageous. Not that Justin had been a coward.
But this had been different. He had spotted the shooter even before her security team. Copeland and Levitt and the others were highly trained bodyguards. Not mere Secret Service agents, but the best of the best, executive bodyguards. Perhaps Justin had merely been lucky. Had just happened to look in the right direction at the right moment.
Her gaze narrowed as she replayed the horrific scene in the private theater of her mind. No. His actions had been too precise…too powerful to have been a simple, however fortunate, reaction.
Again the whole scenario of his lying in that hospital bed for three long months didn’t sit right with her. What if he’d been somewhere else? Doing something…like training to react as he had today?
Caroline shook her head. There she went with those conspiracy notions again. Dennis would laugh and tell her to get a grip. She closed her eyes and exhaled a heavy breath. Thank God her dear friend hadn’t been injured. She and Justin were well aware of the risks they each took, but Dennis had been dragged into this mess because of her. Not that she’d wanted Justin to get hurt. Certainly not.
She threw her hands up and resumed her pacing. Analyzing the situation to death wasn’t going to change anything. Her senior advisor and her press secretary had already conference-called her to ensure all was well and to decide on a course of action. That was one annoyance she could do without, but it came with the job. If she broke a nail every one had to be briefed. The press had to be handled.
Okay, so that was an exaggeration, but it was almost that bad. She needed to regain her perspective here. She had just under twenty-four hours before she returned to the District and she needed to make a few decisions—such as how she planned to put Redmond in his place.
Her husband was back now. The caller who wanted to rattle her would eventually be caught or would stop out of boredom when his evil plan didn’t garner the desired reaction. She would spend the next few hours setting her affairs with Justin to rights. She wasn’t completely sure what all that would entail. Though to some degree she fully agreed with Dennis’s conclusion, a part of her just wouldn’t allow her to dive in too quickly. It was that conservative side she’d inherited from her mother. Her father had warned her that it would be the bane of her existence at times and he’d been right.
She fully intended to get her personal agenda in order and then proceed onto matters at the White House. Enough was enough, and she’d had enough.
A surge of adrenaline poured through Caroline and she felt stronger than she had in a very long time. Terrorists weren’t going to keep her from doing her job. And whoever had been taunting her were nothing more than terrorists.
The people were counting on her.
Finally the big black SUV came into view as it emerged from the treed canopy of the long drive. Caroline’s heart rushed into her throat. They were back!
She moved to the entry hall but Levitt halted her with an uplifted hand. “Stand by, ma’am,” he said firmly. They’re coming right in. I’d rather you stay inside.”
Though she hated the idea of cowing to the threat, she knew Agent Levitt was right. Going outside would not only risk her life but Justin’s and the accompanying security members.
The door finally opened and Justin walked inside, followed by Copeland and three of his men. Her husband’s jacket was missing and the left sleeve of his shirt had been cut away. A white gauze bandage covered a portion of his upper arm. An ache pierced her at the memory of his pushing her out of the way and taking that bullet intended for her.
Maybe he really did love her in the way she longed for him to. The a
ccident had apparently changed him. Perhaps the words that inspired such longing in her weren’t just talk.
“Are you all right?” She went to him, touched his injured arm. “How bad is it?”
He patted her hand soothingly. “Just a flesh wound. It’ll heal in no time.”
“Thank you, Agents Copeland and Levitt,” Caroline said. “We’ll be in our suite.”
The two agents nodded their understanding and Caroline walked arm-in-arm with Justin to the staircase.
“Did the doctor give you something for pain?”
“That wasn’t necessary,” he assured her as they climbed the stairs. “It’s really not that bad.”
Once they’d reached their room and the door was closed, blocking out all else, Caroline turned to him. “Justin, you scared me to death.” She blinked at the emotion welling in her eyes. “I thought I was going to lose you again.”
Cain sensed that she needed to be held, comforted. He took her into his arms and said the words she needed to hear. “I’m fine. Everything is fine. You don’t need to worry anymore.”
He held her that way for a very long time, and then she drew back and led him to the bed. It wasn’t a gesture designed to seduce him, but an expression of her need to stay close while she rested. He could feel her exhaustion. She was so very tired. So he crawled onto the bed with her and held her while she slept.
Hours later he slipped away, leaving Caroline sleeping peacefully. He doubted she’d had much sleep in several days, maybe even weeks. The calls and letter she’d told him about today were things Center needed to know about. The attempt on her life they would have heard about already. Considering this newest turn of events, he needed to ensure his orders had not changed.
Cain eased from the room and went in search of a private place where he could make his call. It was dark outside. The dark had always been his ally.
He made his way to the kitchen where a member of security stopped him at the rear door. “Good evening, Mr. Winters.”
“I’m taking a walk.” His tone left no room for argument. Neither did the intense gaze he leveled on the younger, smaller man. The gun tucked into the shoulder holster beneath that suit jacket would not begin to even the odds.
“Would you like someone to accompany you, sir?”
“No thanks.”
The agent opened the door for him. “Don’t wander far from the house, sir.”
“Got it.”
Cain stepped out into the night air, noting the distant smell of rain. Considering the cloud cover a storm appeared to be brewing. Depending on what O’Riley had to say there might be more than one storm headed his way.
He entered the number for O’Riley’s secure line and waited. Cain didn’t have to wonder if the director would be there. He never left Center when a Level V or higher mission was ongoing. He answered on the first ring.
“O’Riley,” he growled, his voice gravelly from too much coffee, too little sleep or maybe both.
“Cain reporting in.”
“What the hell happened this afternoon?”
Cain quickly retold the events that had taken place at the restaurant.
“And no one but the security team and the shrink knew about the plans to meet?”
“Only the security team. Dr. Patrick didn’t know the actual location until he arrived there.”
O’Riley remained silent for a moment but he didn’t have to say anything, Cain knew exactly what he was thinking. This looked more and more like an inside job of an even closer nature than they’d first concluded. And someone wasn’t doing a very good job of keeping it under wraps. The whole scenario was almost too obvious.
“How badly were you wounded?” his superior wanted to know.
“Just nicked the skin and muscle of my left forearm, nothing serious.” The pain was all but gone now.
“You’ll have to keep the bandage on even after it heals or she’ll notice.”
Cain was well aware of that fact. Since he was a speed healer there would scarcely be any indication of the wound by the day after tomorrow. He would need to ensure that she didn’t see the area where it had been.
“Make sure she isn’t out of your sight from now on,” O’Riley ordered. “I don’t like that they took her back to the safe house while you were taken in the other direction for medical care.”
Cain’s gaze came to rest on the window to the room where she slept. “I didn’t like it either, but refusing to go would have been out of character. Insisting that her safety be risked further by dragging her along would have been as well. She is already watching me closely. I couldn’t risk blowing my cover entirely.”
Another long pause.
Cain waited, his respiration and heart rate remaining exactly the same. O’Riley considered his lengthy moments of silence to be intimidating, but nothing intimidated Cain. O’Riley, of all people, should know that by now.
“Do you have additional orders?” Cain asked, refusing to waste his time on games.
“No,” his director admitted. “Just keep her safe. This incident had nothing to do with our diversionary tactics.”
Center had, at first, leaked the possibility of a threat that had the presidential security personnel jumping through hoops. Center had wanted increased security around her and with Redmond’s continued interference the only way to ensure that step was to instigate a bogus assassination threat—the mechanical failure on Air Force One. But now the threat had morphed into reality, not emanating from Center, of course.
“Is there anything else I should know?” O’Riley prodded as Cain remained silent.
“A few weeks ago she started to get calls,” he said slowly, considering his words carefully so as not to give away her proximity to the edge where those calls were concerned. Cain didn’t understand his sudden need to protect her in this way. It wasn’t rational or logical. It simply was.
“There was a letter faxed to her as well but it disappeared. All of the same approximate content—her husband pleading for help. Whenever the calls were looked into, nothing was found.”
“And no one believes that she really received the calls or the letter,” O’Riley guessed.
“It looks that way.”
“We’ll patch into the lines at the White House, see what we can find. She received a call at her current location as well?”
“Today.”
“I’ll let you know when Dupree has anything to report.”
“She insists on returning to the White House tomorrow morning. If Redmond makes a move—”
“You’ll stop him.”
“Understood.”
Cain disconnected and tucked his phone back into his pocket. He inhaled deeply of the night air, listened to the night sounds and watched the window where she slept.
If the vice president made an overt move Cain was to take him out. Survival would be highly unlikely. But then, all Enforcers knew that they were expendable. No Enforcer was more important than the mission.
The mission was all that mattered.
Cain returned to the house, nodded to the agent still posted at the rear entrance. Others would have been walking the grounds but Cain would have known if one had come within hearing distance of him. His night vision as well as his hearing was superior.
Hesitating before going back upstairs, Cain decided he needed to eat. He imagined Caroline did as well. Thinking of her in that way would only add to his appeal. That he considered her needs without forethought gave him pause…but that was his mission. Wasn’t it?
He prepared a tray with various cheeses, crackers, fruit and wine. The kitchen was well stocked and offered every imaginable amenity. He placed two stemmed glasses and linen napkins on the tray and said goodnight to the agent as he left the room.
Upstairs, the room was still dark which meant Caroline had not awakened yet. She obviously needed the rest. Cain suspected that she pushed herself entirely too hard. But that went with the territory he supposed, and she would not possess the superior
stamina he did. He wondered at that…marveled at the idea that she would carry on despite her weariness. For him, determination and single-minded intensity were encoded in his genetic makeup. He wondered what drove her. Shaking his head, he forced the idea away.
It made no difference.
He set the tray on the table near the broad expanse of windows and turned on a nearby floor lamp. A soft glow illuminated the far side of the room so as not to intrude too much on the moonlight now shining through the windows. Surprisingly, the storm he’d anticipated had passed them by, unveiling the moon. He wondered if Caroline Winters would be so lucky with the other storm. He doubted that possibility.
“Justin?” The sound of her soft voice pulled his attention toward the bed. She lay there, her white dress rumpled and in stark contrast to the royal-blue comforter draping the bed.
“I thought you might be hungry.” He gestured to the tray and offered the expected smile.
She eased up to a sitting position. “You shouldn’t have done that. I could have scrounged up something.” She looked from his face to his left arm and he knew she was wondering about his arm.
“I’m fine.” He bent his arm and straightened it to prove his words. “It barely hurts.”
She pushed her long dark hair from her face as she scooted off the bed and he found himself captivated by the way the silky strands fell over her shoulder. He had the inexplicable urge to touch her hair. Illogical, he knew. She walked toward him, her long legs covering the distance in only a few steps. She had a well-proportioned body and looked strong for one so slender. He liked that very much. Liked looking at her.
Watching her was his mission.
All the better if he found his work pleasant.
“Yummy,” she murmured as she reached for a couple of grapes and popped them into her mouth. “Hmmm.”
Remembering the other necessary steps, he poured the wine he had already uncorked. The sound of it sloshing into the glasses filled the quiet of the room as she watched him. Abruptly he wondered if she found watching him a pleasant experience.