Broken Honor

by Potter, Patricia;

  “I didn’t think I should go to your house. I was afraid to go to mine.”

  “Why?”

  She rubbed her eyes. “I went out last night. To a bar. It was a respectable one,” she added after looking at his face. “I met a guy. He looked okay, and we talked a little while. He asked me out, and I said no. There was something … in his eyes that warned me. When I went to the powder room, the bartender came after me and said the man sitting next to me slipped something into my drink. I couldn’t think of anything but getting away.”

  “You drove here last night in the rain?”

  She nodded.

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “You told me not to. I assume you had a reason,” she said indignantly. “I was also afraid to come to your house. But I didn’t think they would check every door in the State Department. I had my credentials with me, and I waited until seven. I knew you came in early.”

  He studied her face. He saw the fear in her eyes. Yet she’d kept her head. Everyone had always underestimated Sally, had always expected little from her. He’d been guilty of the same thing. “It could just have been someone who wanted to score.…”

  “I don’t think so. He seemed friendly enough, but there was something about his eyes … and the bartender said he’d never seen the man there before, although the guy told me he was local.”

  “You did exactly right in coming here,” Dustin said.

  “I’m not exactly dressed properly.”

  He took her hand and went to his door, unlocked it, and drew her inside.

  “I’ll send my secretary to get you some clothes,” he said.

  “Won’t she resent that?”

  “I don’t think so. I don’t ask things like that often. She’ll know it’s important.”

  She digested that for a moment, then changed the subject. “Why would they come after me?”

  “I wish to hell I knew. Can you draw a picture of this guy?”

  She nodded.

  He took several pieces of paper from the computer printer and handed it to her, along with several pens from his desk. “Sorry I can’t do better.”

  “I’m sorry, Dusty. I didn’t know what else to do, where else to go.”

  “Not to worry, Squirt. I’m glad you did. We just have to figure out what to do with you now.”

  “If I hadn’t gone to the bar …?”

  “If they found you at the bar, they knew where you were staying. They would have gotten to you in another way. Perhaps a more violent one.”

  “But how could they have found me?”

  “I don’t know.” And he didn’t. There were several possibilities. Cecil Ford knew where she was. Some kind of device could have been placed in his car. He didn’t think anyone could trace calls going into or out of his office. Since some very publicized security leaks in State Department offices, security was very good. No one would have been able to tap phones.

  He didn’t know whom to call now. He’d exhausted most of his resources, people he thought he could trust. Unfortunately, he could count them on one hand. Half a hand. But Sally’s drawing first. He wanted that while the man’s face was still fresh in her mind. Maybe the FBI would have something on him.

  Dustin went over the schedule Judy had left for him. A staff meeting at ten. That would be held in the conference room. A luncheon with a congressman at noon. He had to make that. Two more meetings this afternoon. A dinner tonight at the French Embassy.

  A knock on his door. Sally stiffened.

  “Judy. My secretary,” he said. “I recognize her knock.”

  She visibly relaxed. She had talked to Judy several times.

  He opened the door and went outside, closing the door behind him.

  “Good morning, sir.”

  “Good morning.”

  “I’ll make the coffee.”

  “Sounds good.”

  She hesitated as he continued to stand there. “Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Eachan?”

  “My cousin is here,” he said.

  “Here?” She looked confused.

  “In my office. She had a scare last night. Someone attacked her.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Yes, there is. She’s going to stay here today. There’s really nowhere else to go. Whoever attacked her has her address and house keys. I don’t want anyone other than myself—or you—going into my office. I know it’s not your job, but I would appreciate it if you could watch out for her.”

  “Of course I will.”

  “Thank you,” he said formally.

  He waited for other questions but, as he expected, none came.

  He went back inside his office. Two hours before his staff meeting. Judy had already prepared the agenda, but he had to review the items.

  He knew, though, that it was time to make some decisions. Until now, he’d hoped that the whole treasure train matter would fade away. It was quite obvious now that it would not.

  If he went to the FBI, it could blow wide open. Sally’s life was worth far more than his career. But first he wanted to hear what Flaherty had to say. Then he would have to make some hard decisions.

  Sally looked up from her drawing. He gave her what he hoped was a comforting smile, and she went back to work.

  What in the hell was he going to do with her?

  NEWPORT NEWS

  Irish found a phone booth near Newport News. He looked at his watch. Eleven. He dialed the State Department number and asked for Dustin Eachan.

  A woman’s voice answered.

  He had heard it before. He was sure he would get another “he’s unavailable.”

  “Mr. Eachan,” he said.

  “May I tell him who’s calling?”

  “Colonel Flaherty.”

  There was a brief pause. “He wants to speak to you, but he’s in a meeting now. He asked if there was a number where he can reach you.”

  Progress, of a sort. Except he was not about to tell anyone where he was or was going to be.

  “I’m moving around,” he said. “Tell me when he will be there, and I’ll call.”

  She hesitated, then said, “Noon. But he has a luncheon at one, so call right on the hour.”

  “I’ll do that,” he said, and hung up. He stood at the telephone for a moment. He hadn’t been on the line long enough for a trace. He’d made sure of that. Now he had an hour to waste.

  After a moment’s hesitation, he called the ranch. He knew Joe wouldn’t be in his house at this time of day, but he left a message that he was all right and would call him later. Then he made a third call to Doug Fuller, his commanding officer. He had to know what was going on.

  He was put through immediately. “Get back here,” Doug said without any preliminary greeting.

  “If it’s about that promotion.…”

  “Hell, there won’t be any promotion. You’re wanted for questioning in North Carolina. Something about arson. Both you and the woman. And there are some questions left in Georgia. Dammit, where in the hell are you? I can’t protect you any longer. Hell, we’re the ones who are supposed to be solving crimes, not committing them.”

  “We weren’t involved in arson,” Irish said. “That was meant to kill both of us.”

  “Why?”

  “Damned if I know,” Irish said.

  “You’re not any closer than before?”

  “No. Except whoever is behind it has resources we could only dream about.” He hesitated. “Can you find out where my new assignment came from?”

  “You don’t think.…”

  “I think they have killed a lot more people than we know about. And over a longer period of time. It’s possible they killed three generals, including my grandfather. Now that takes some kind of organization.”

  “That’s ridiculous. You told me yourself your grandfather died of a heart attack.”

  “That’s what I thought, until I discovered the other two generals who served with him when the Nazi train was captured
, died somewhat mysteriously. My grandfather never had heart trouble.”

  “That doesn’t mean.…”

  “It looked like a heart attack, and because of that there was no autopsy. You and I both know that there are drugs that can cause attacks.”

  “Then come back, and we can order a new autopsy.”

  “I can’t leave Amy Mallory.”

  “You don’t have a choice, Irish. Any number of officials want to talk to you. I’ve been putting them off, saying that you had no obligation during leave to check in with me. But they are getting impatient.”

  “Doug, I can’t leave Amy Mallory now. There’ve been three attempts on her life.”

  “Let the police or FBI protect her. You can’t do it alone.”

  “You haven’t been listening, Doug. If they have enough power to ensure a promotion or change of assignment, they have enough power to have sources in the FBI.”

  “You’re not Superman, Irish.”

  “I need a few more days.”

  “You don’t have them. I can’t protect you any longer. There’s a record of this call. You have been officially ordered to return to base.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You can be court-martialed for disobeying a direct order. I can almost guarantee you will be. Are you willing to give up everything you’ve worked for?”

  Irish closed his eyes for a moment. But then he’d made his decision days ago. It had stopped being about his grandfather. It had started that way, but now it was all about Amy. It was about giving her safety and security and her life back.

  Would he leave if he thought she would be safe?

  He wasn’t sure. He was fascinated by Amy Mallory. He was even more attracted by the bond between them, the instinctive knowledge they had about one another, the sense of belonging he’d never had with anyone else. He’d been intrigued by their conversation this morning, by her admission that she was more than a little attracted by danger. It wasn’t the fact that she had been. He’d mused about that before. It was the fact that she admitted it, picked at it, weighed it.

  She was like that about everything. He’d watched her as they had driven up the coast. Everything interested her.

  The simple fact was he didn’t want to leave her. He didn’t want to risk anyone else looking after her.

  The thought was unsettling at best.

  “I’ll take my chances, Doug. I have to go now.” He hung up before Doug could say anything else.

  He’d just burned his last bridge.

  WASHINGTON, D.C.

  “I thought I’d hired the best. A graduate from a correspondence school detective course could do better.” The voice on the phone was angry.

  “We know she’s with Eachan now,” his employee said.

  “Ah,” the caller said. “And how do you propose getting to her? We needed compromising photos. We have no chance of getting them now.”

  Silence.

  “Keystone cops. You were supposed to be the best of the best, but you’ve let two women get the best of you.”

  “We hadn’t anticipated Flaherty.”

  “I pay you enough to anticipate everything.”

  “I have a tracking device on Eachan’s car.”

  “You had one on Flaherty’s, and it didn’t do a damn bit of good.”

  “I’m putting two more men on Dustin Eachan.”

  “Watch his house but don’t bug it. He’s just recently had the department sweep it, and he’ll do it again. No sense putting him on notice.”

  “We’re putting the rest of our resources on finding Flaherty and the woman.”

  “Have you narrowed it down?” “The last credit card was in North Carolina. He’s obviously heading north.”

  “But why?” the call’s originator asked. “To see Eachan? That would be very unfortunate. We can control Eachan by himself. If they join forces.…” A pause. “Flaherty’s smart. He can’t use credit cards; we would have that information immediately. That means no upscale hotels. We already know they’ve used some hourly hotels. But we’ve been checking those.” A pause, then, “He’s military. He’ll know how to get lost in military communities. Check them up the coast from North Carolina. Motels. Trailer parks. Rooming houses. I don’t care what it costs.”

  twenty-two

  NORFOLK

  Amy tried to concentrate. Hour after hour passed. She reviewed everything for the tenure hearing and found little to add. She knew her answers to probable questions, could back her research, present pending grants and future research projects. Included in her material was a prospective publisher for her proposed book. She needed only to give them the first three chapters.

  She knew it was a sound package. Student assessments of her courses had been excellent. She thought she had the support of most of the faculty, although Jon had been her strongest advocate. Would his absence change the dynamics?

  The tenure hearing, though, seemed a million miles away at the moment. It just didn’t seem that important any longer. And that simple fact scared her. This … adventure was not going to last forever.

  Amy sighed, fighting herself, tamping down all those wayward, traitorous, foreign thoughts.

  She went back into the boxes. She decided to take every name she found and research it on the net. The final list included those recommended for decorations, staff members dating back from Normandy, everyone mentioned in his notes.

  She started going through the last box again, making a list of those names. When she was finished, it was noon. Her back muscles were tired from leaning over the laptop. She stood, stretched.

  Bo nudged her leg with his nose. She decided to take him for a walk. When she got back, she would start tracking down the various individuals on her list.

  The day was hot, humid, smothering. The sky looked as if a storm was in the offing. Dark, thick clouds hovered. She felt the electricity ready to explode.

  Her gaze moved around the parking lot, from trailer to trailer, to the roads that branched like veins in a hand. Toddlers played in a playground, and she walked Bo over to them and watched. Mothers who looked more like high schoolers than married women watched them and chatted together. She felt an ache deep inside. She’d often thought about children. She thought she would probably make a good mother. But she’d wanted them only with someone she truly loved.

  Until now.

  She’d substituted career for family, and she’d never regretted it. Not really. But now, as she watched children playing, running to their mothers, a yearning hit with unexpected intensity. What would Irish’s child look like? Dark hair? Inscrutable eyes? That odd little twist of his lips?

  She finally forced her gaze away from the children. They’d stirred ridiculous thoughts. Impossible thoughts. She and Flaherty had sex because they’d been caught in a storm of danger. And need. Even dependence. It was nothing more than that.

  She looked around. Bo growled, and she stiffened. Then she saw it was only another dog.

  Amy forced herself to walk away from the playground. She went to the office, where she’d seen a newspaper vending machine. Putting in a quarter, she took out a newspaper and returned to the bench. She wasn’t ready to go back inside.

  She read the front page. More trouble in the Middle East. A battle in Congress. A robbery. A trial. She looked inside. Nothing about an explosion farther south. She read it, as she always read newspapers, scouring every article and filing the contents in the cabinet of her mind.

  Bo sniffed the areas immediately around her, then came over to her and put his paws on her lap. “You miss him, too, huh? Well, buddy, we have to get used to it.”

  She gave one last look toward the children, then returned to the trailer and started her search. There were any number of people search sites, and she started with the name at the top of her list. She soon found that most, quite naturally, were dead. Some had died during the war. Some shortly afterward. She eliminated one after another. She was finally left with nine names.

  She did
n’t get any further. She didn’t have the skill to gain access to the sites she needed. She did find something interesting, though. She stopped and just stared at the notations next to two men.

  Amy rose and looked outside. It was nearly five. Panic started building up inside her. She wasn’t used to it, and she didn’t like it. Had something happened to Flaherty? Irish. She was beginning to think of him that way now. It was more personal.

  A lot more personal.

  Then she saw him driving up in the purple car, and her heart did a little jump. She went back to the computer, turning to the Internet, then focused on North Carolina newspapers. It was then she saw the article.

  The door opened. Flaherty filled the trailer with his presence. She hadn’t realized how empty it was until then.

  She looked toward him. She didn’t want to say how much she had missed him. She only hoped she didn’t convey the message in other ways.

  “I reached Eachan. He wants to meet with us.”

  She waited for him to continue.

  One of his eyebrows arched. “No questions?”

  “Why should I? You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

  “Patience?”

  “No. I just think it’s quicker this way.”

  He gave her that lopsided grin. “You think differently from any woman I’ve ever met.”

  “Is that good?”

  “Different,” he insisted. She was aware that he didn’t want to destroy the mood by returning to the issue. The life and death issue.

  “Tell me,” she finally said.

  His smile disappeared. “It’ll be dangerous. I want to send you someplace else.”

  “No,” she said. “I’m a part of this as much, if not more, than you are.” She hesitated for a moment, then added, “And I feel … safer with you.”

  “I’m not sure we’ve done the right thing. I’ve been thinking that perhaps you should contact the local and state authorities.”

  “Why?”

  “I talked to my commanding officer. The local police in Myrtle Beach want us for questioning because of the explosion. Apparently they received an anonymous call that we were the ones in the house just prior to the explosion. Our friends are trying to smoke us out.”