Confused, Abigail whirled to stare at Poppy. “Do you think someone has been living in the woods?”
“No, no. Of course not.” Poppy got up to leave. “I worry about hunters being shot or children getting caught in the crossfire. We’ve never had any trouble here and...you owe it to your father to keep it that way.”
Abigail tamped down the anger brewing in her tired system. She knew Poppy meant well, but sometimes they had different views on things. “I owe it to my father to stop this. CiCi is dead because someone out there is after me. My father died because someone wanted him killed.”
“But why would they want to hurt you, honey?”
“I don’t know,” Abigail admitted. “I truly don’t know.”
Poppy tugged Abigail close. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
“I’ll be fine,” Abigail said, tears burning at her eyes. Blinking, she stared at Poppy’s filigree necklace. “I’ll be okay. I’ve decided to go back to the city anyway. I’m going to a big event that was already scheduled. I think my father would want me to keep up appearances on his behalf.”
Poppy’s lips pursed in agreement. “He always was a stickler for showing grace under pressure.”
“Yes, he sure was,” Abigail said. “All the more reason to honor him by finding his killers.”
Then she turned and walked back into her bedroom. “Leave the tray, Poppy. I’m not very hungry right now.”
But she was determined. She wouldn’t put her staff here in the path of these evil, unrelenting people. Dylan had been right all along. She’d be safer in the city.
* * *
Later that day, Dylan found Abigail in the sitting room where he’d taken her to see the Christmas tree they’d all worked to put together for her. Had that really only been yesterday?
He’d been up most of the night, the memory of their kiss giving him the stamina to keep moving. But he came to a stop when he saw her there at her mother’s desk, writing thank-you notes to the people who’d sent flowers and food and sympathy cards since her father’s death.
She wore comfortable clothes, soft velvety blue sweats and a cute sweater jacket. Boots that covered her tight-legged pants. Tico alerted—traitor. And Abigail looked up and into Dylan’s eyes.
“There you are,” she said, getting up. “I need to talk to you.”
“I know.” He figured she’d been avoiding him for a reason. “I need to talk to you, too. About last night.”
Disappointment and regret flashed through her eyes but she lifted her chin. “Any word?”
He rubbed his eyes. “No. We found the usual. Footprints too murky to identify and vehicle tracks off the side of the main road. Abigail, listen—”
“I want to go back to Washington,” she said before he could explain. “I’m putting my staff in danger, too. It’s not right and I’ve been selfish by trying to hang on to the last shreds of joy by staying here for Christmas.”
“Washington?” He’d come to talk to her about that. Dylan advanced in the room and gave Tico a “good boy” pat for hanging with Abigail all day. “So you still want to go through with this.”
“Yes. I need to make a statement to the press and handle some other things. We still have time to get there before the big gala at Orson’s house. I need to be there, for my father’s sake and to possibly flush out anyone who might be involved.”
“That’s why I came to talk to you,” he said, weariness shooting through his system. “I agree with you.”
“You do?” She sounded surprised.
“I talked it over with Captain McCord and he cleared it with General Meyer. She’ll be at the event, too, and she has assured me you’ll be well protected. But we all agreed that this Dibianu fellow needs to be considered. So far, his background is clean. He’s been a loyal diplomat for years and seems to have a solid reputation but we need to see what he’s up to regarding you.” Placing his hands on his hips, he said, “Don’t approach him. Let him seek you out. I’ll be with you and you can introduce me as a friend who worked with your father.”
She nodded. “Okay. So...what’s next then?”
“We get you packed but we’ll leave tonight. One vehicle a few hours ahead of us. We want to leave a few official-looking vehicles here to throw anyone off.” He watched her pacing and wondered if they’d made the right decision. “Promise me you won’t do anything to put yourself in any danger.”
“You mean, don’t do anything stupid, right?”
“Not stupid, but courageous, daring, determined—”
“You do know a little bit about how my mind works.”
“Yes, and that scares me. A lot.”
“I think you’re scared of things that have nothing to do with someone trying to kill me.”
She had him there. “You’re right, but that’s for another time.”
She glanced down and then back into his eyes. “Dylan, before we go I need to tell you that I got a text right before dinner last night. From Omar Dibianu. In all the excitement, I didn’t get a chance to show it to you but I haven’t responded yet.”
Dylan put his hand out, palm up. “Let me see it now.”
Had she forgotten or was she deliberately withholding things from him? He read the text and then turned to her. “Abigail, this is too dangerous.”
“Or too important to pass up,” she countered. “What better place to meet him? We’ll be surrounded by so many Secret Service and FBI people and your team, too, nothing can happen to me. He might have information on my father’s death that can substantiate what you’ve found.”
Dylan didn’t like it but if she insisted on this rendezvous, he’d be standing right there with her. “Let me analyze this and get back to you. And, Abigail, next time alert me immediately.”
“Okay.” She gave him a glimpse full of resolve and finally came to stand in front of him. “Now that we’ve agreed on that, what should we do about that kiss?”
* * *
Dylan wasn’t sure how to answer that but he was sure that he wanted to kiss her again. Their kiss had been amazing, touching, perfect. But he had to get back to business, especially with the developments of the past few hours.
“What do you think we should do about it?” he asked.
She placed her hands together in front of her. “I should apologize to you since I forced the issue. I wanted to kiss you so...I did. It was wrong of me, but...it’s been a long week.”
While Dylan was glad to hear she’d wanted to kiss him, it couldn’t happen again. “Look, Abigail, you didn’t do anything that I haven’t thought of doing all week.”
Hope colored her eyes but her expression showed a lot of doubt. “So you admit you’re attracted to me?”
“It doesn’t matter how I feel. I overstepped the boundaries and broke protocol. Things got out of hand. I can’t protect you if I’m distracted and you can’t be distracted from showing me important communications that might endanger you. From now on I have to remain impassive and maintain a professional distance from you.”
The hurt in her eyes tore at him like ice crystals against his skin. “I see,” she said before she turned away. “I understand. And since I don’t want anyone else to get killed on my behalf, I’ll leave you alone.”
He reached up and snagged her arm to pull her back. “I’m sorry but you could have been shot last night.”
“But I wasn’t,” she said, “because you blocked me. You could have been shot, and that’s something I can’t imagine. I wish I hadn’t been so pathetic that you took me outside to calm me down.”
His ebony eyes registered disapproval. “You’re not pathetic. You’re grieving and you’re still in a state of shock.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to endanger anyone, certainly not you.”
“That�
��s my job and that’s for me to worry about.”
“Yes, and you’ve made it very clear that your job doesn’t allow for personal relationships. Especially since I was so horrified about what you have to deal with on a day-to-day basis. So...I get it, Dylan. You don’t have room in your life for emotional complications.”
Dylan didn’t want to hurt her but right now, his first priority was to protect her. She’d get over that kiss and she’d forget about him once she was safe again. He’d never forget her and he’d never forget their kiss.
But he needed her to understand one thing. “I can’t go down that road again, Abigail.”
She gave him a disheartened stare. “You mean that road where someone broke your heart and caused you to become so stoic and unyielding. You’re assuming that I’ll be like the woman who obviously caused you a great deal of pain, but...you might be surprised to find I’m made of stronger stock than that.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised by anything about you,” he said, turning to leave. “And yet, you surprise me on a daily basis.”
He stopped at the door. “We’ll leave at full dark.”
“I’ll be ready,” she said, her back to him. “And I’ll be so well behaved you’ll hardly know I’m there.”
Oh, he doubted that. The awareness between them fairly danced off the walls. He stood there at the door for a full minute, caught between the need to kiss her again and the need to keep her alive. When she waved a hand at him in dismissal, he finally turned and walked away without another word.
Because really, there wasn’t anything left to say.
TWELVE
Abigail’s nerves jingled like tiny bells with each mile they took that brought them closer to the city.
She stared out the window as they headed away from the farm and toward the road to I-95. Now that they were headed back to Washington, DC, she wondered how she’d handle the crush of well-meaning people who’d want to hug her and give her more condolences at the gala. But her nervousness didn’t come so much from seeing people again as it did from trying to avoid Dylan’s solemn black-eyed stare.
He’d secreted her away in one of Poppy’s coats and hats, in an unmarked car that looked so bland no one would notice it zooming along the freeway. Tico had gone on ahead with the others but Dylan was right here by her side.
And she couldn’t face him. Humiliated and hurt, she tried to understand what kind of life he must lead, doing this day after day. No wonder he didn’t want anyone special in his life. While his work scared her for more reasons than being in danger, she admired him and respected him enough to know he was right about them. She couldn’t force him to take notice of her when he was working so hard to save her. And she still had enough dignity and decorum left to step away, so she went back to her aloof self and tried to gather her strength for the upcoming weekend.
Work had to come first in his profession. And it always would. He’d made that clear. Well, finding a killer was high on her priority list, too, so she hoped she’d be the bait to bring that killer out. A risk she had to take.
But really, Dylan had a point.
Could she live like this every day? Could she allow someone she cared about to go out there over and over to put himself in harm’s way?
They’d been tossed together in a heightened stare of awareness and she had to consider that this would all be over soon and he’d be gone. She still had to get her father’s affairs in order and decide what to do with herself next anyway.
They weren’t meant to be together.
Right now, he was so near she could reach out a hand and touch him. So she kept her tricky hands clutched together in her lap and watched for the first sight of the Washington Monument.
“Hey,” he said after a few moments of silence, leaning over toward her where they sat in the backseat. “How you doing?”
Was he able to feel her thoughts? “I’m fine, thank you.”
“You’re the perfect subject,” he said with a chuckle. But she sensed a nervous edge to his laugh.
“How’s that?” She didn’t look at him, couldn’t look at him for fear he’d see the truth in her eyes.
“You’ve been very considerate and accommodating, spoiling all of us. So thank you.”
“I have my moments.”
He let out a grunt, followed by a sigh. “Actually, that’s not true. You’re not the perfect subject. In fact, you’ve given me concerns from the moment I first saw you.”
Finally, she whipped around and shot him what she hoped was an authoritative glare. “So you’ve pointed out with your oh-so-mixed messages.”
“I am confused about you, but I have to let that go for now. I’m trying so hard to resist you, Abigail. But it’s not easy. I need you to understand that.”
She wouldn’t let him see the hope in her eyes. “I understand that you’ve been hurt by a woman, Dylan. And I understand that because of what she did, you can’t find happiness again.” She edged toward her corner of the seat. “But it’s okay, really. I’ll be back to my full schedule soon and I’ll travel a lot and possibly follow in my father’s footsteps so it’s silly for me to think about...a relationship with anyone either.”
“Especially someone like me, right?”
She wouldn’t hurt him by making a pointed comment. “I don’t know,” she said, “since I don’t really know you all that well. This week hasn’t been the best way to get to know someone, has it? I wish we could have met under different circumstances.”
They were approaching the city now and headed toward the discreet neighborhood near Embassy Row where they’d taken her the day of the funeral. The lights glowed around the Jefferson Memorial off in the distance. She saw Dylan’s silhouette etched in shadows, saw the way his eyes stayed on her.
He scrubbed a hand down his face and then reached out his index finger and traced it over her wrist. “If the circumstances had been different, we probably wouldn’t have met at all.”
Then he pulled away and started directing the driver on where to park so they could get her safely out of the car and inside the house.
And probably, so he could get her safely away from his heart.
THIRTEEN
Dylan let out a long breath the next day and escorted Abigail into the Capitol K-9 headquarters building. “Good job on the press conference,” he said, his hand on the small of her back. They’d announced the capture of several members of the Middle Eastern group and mentioned they were still tracking members in the United States. Then Abigail had spoken briefly.
“Thank you.”
She looked every bit the ambassador’s daughter in a dark navy suit with a skirt that skimmed her pretty legs and discreet matching heels that only highlighted her curvy calves.
And he needed to peel his eyes back to front and center.
But she smelled good, too. Like a fresh garden in the middle of winter.
Keep your nose in the air.
Dylan did a quick scan of the nearby buildings. So far, so good. This place was like a fortress so he felt pretty secure bringing her here for the press conference. General Meyer had attended in a show of support and she and Captain McCord had stood on each side of Abigail along with the ever-present Orson Benison, while she thanked everyone for their thoughts and prayers and talked about her assistant CiCi and her father, ending with the assurance that soon these killers would be brought to justice.
“You were a pro,” he said once they had her in a conference room with Tico by her feet.
“Part of my job,” she quipped, her attitude back to the calm, cool redhead he’d first met a week ago. But he could see the fire burning underneath that controlled demeanor.
A fire that tempted him and scared him.
He didn’t want her to turn reckless on him.
“Okay,” he sa
id, bending down to rub Tico’s thick fur, “you stay here while I handle a few things. Then we’ll get you back to the safe house so you can get ready for tonight.” Then he stared up at her. “Are you ready for tonight?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” She crossed her legs and sat back. “Go and do your thing. I have my buddy here.” Her slender hand slinked down to Tico, her knuckles offered so the dog could sniff her skin.
And get a whiff of that great-smelling perfume.
Back in the game, Ralsey.
He stood and nodded. “I’ll send someone in with some water and I think we have some coffee and crackers around here. Some Christmas cookies.”
“What, no donuts?”
“Ha, ha.”
He reluctantly left her there with some magazines while he reported in and went over the plan for tonight. He’d be with her at all times and they’d have officers planted throughout the crowd. They’d also coordinated with the locals, the Secret Service, the FBI and CIA. This event would have almost as many law enforcement people here as invited guests.
Dylan wanted to get it over with.
* * *
She wanted this over with and done.
She wanted one more hug from her father and one more long talk with him late at night.
She wanted CiCi here fussing over her and reminding her of where she needed to be next.
She wanted Dylan to open up to her and let her help him heal. He might do the same for her. Christmas was a time to look forward. A new year, a new beginning, but holding steady with the traditions of the season. And the reason for her faith. The love and sacrifice of Christ, that could overcome even the worst in life.
Abigail closed her eyes and prayed for guidance and peace and once again asked God to keep Dylan and his team safe. She’d tried to scan the crowd at the press conference, fear and indignity merging in her mind. For a split second, she thought she’d seen Omar Dibianu there in the crowd but it must have been her imagination. She wouldn’t talk herself out of trying to connect with him at the Benison affair. It was a long shot but they all needed it to work.
Capitol K-9 Unit Christmas Page 16