It was then that she saw it. In a flash, she was across the room, lifting up the small carriage clock from the night table.
"Do you recognize it?" Jenny asked. "I found it wedged in a drawer of the desk downstairs. The desk was left with a drawer nearly sealed closed. When I finally got it open, I found the clock."
Robyn couldn’t speak. It was the clock Grant had given her on their first anniversary. She sat down on the queen-size bed remembering how happy she’d been.
"It’s obviously yours," Jenny said, her voice quiet as if she knew the reverence Robyn placed on it.
"No-no." Robyn cleared her throat. "I just thought it was like one I used to have." Replacing the small gold-plated timepiece made her sorry she’d come. She had better leave.
After a second necessary to pull herself together, Robyn got up and straightened the coverlet. "It’s time I was going. I have to meet someone, and I’m late now."
"I’m sorry. It was good visiting with you." Jenny walked her back to the front door. "If you’re ever in town again, I do hope you’ll visit me."
"I’d like that." Robyn smiled.
"Maybe next time, William will be here. He’s working on a very important proposal. Something to do with building a dam in South America. Otherwise, he’d have been here today and could have asked about the tiny room in the basement."
"The darkroom. I used to develop a lot of film there. After I got a digital camera, I didn’t use it as often."
"Oh, that’s what it was. We thought it was an unfinished bathroom."
They reached the front door. "Thank you, Jenny. I enjoyed the tea and the tour. Good luck with the baby."
Robyn waved good-bye as she walked toward the car she’d parked a couple of blocks away. She envied the young couple. They loved her house and for that she was glad. She was also sad that she and Grant never got the chance to finish the things they’d planned when they had moved in.
Inside the car, Robyn inserted the key and turned the ignition. Then, she turned it off and leaned her head against the steering wheel. Suddenly, her hands were cold, but her body was burning. She liked what Jenny had done to the house. She could leave it now. She knew it was in good hands. Grant had left the memories behind, and now, she felt she could, too.
The only thing that haunted her was the clock. She’d wanted it. It was a piece of Grant, but it was also a part of another life. She didn’t live that life any longer.
Robyn began to sit up. Suddenly, the door was yanked open, and something was pushed over her head. She fought whoever was attacking her. But the arms fighting back were stronger. She tried to scream, but an unknown hand came across her mouth, stuffing the fabric covering her head inside her mouth and cutting off her air. She kicked and fought blindly but was dragged from the automobile and pulled along the street. She couldn’t tell how far she went, since all the while she tried to scream and hit out at the person forcing her to go someplace she had no intention of going.
The hand holding her mouth didn’t move, but a knee kicked her in the back, edging her on until another hand pushed her head down, and she was catapulted into an unseen car. Immediately, the door snapped shut, and the car sped away, slamming her against the upholstery. She fought the confining fabric, which smelled of a strong detergent. At least it was clean she thought, realizing now that no one was trying to stop her from pulling the black bag from her head.
Finally, she was free of it.
"Jacob!" she screamed at the familiar face. She didn’t know where the strength came from but she was fighting mad and began pummeling him with her fists. "I might have known you’d be behind a stupid stunt like this." Each word was punctuated by a blow.
Jacob grabbed her wrists and shook her. "Stop it!" he yelled. "What the hell do you think you’re doing?"
For an immeasurable moment, they glared at each other. Then, he released her, dropping her wrists as if they had suddenly become hot. He straightened his tie, and the mask of G-Man slipped comfortably back into place.
"What do you want?" Robyn asked.
"I want to know what the hell you were doing in that house?" He didn’t even try to hide his anger.
"Don’t you know, Jacob?" Robyn straightened her borrowed dress, pulling the fabric that had ridden six inches over her knees back into place. "Aren’t you privileged to everything that’s happened to me for the past five years? Is there any moment of my life you don’t touch?"
"Answer the question. Evasion will do no good."
"Damn it, Jacob, don’t treat me like a child."
"Then stop acting like one," he shouted. "You have no right to be here at all. Coming back to this house. Didn’t you think it would be watched? Did it occur to you that the residents could be planted there for just this kind of happening?"
"Of course, it occurred to me. But I met Jenny Bryant, and I saw her husband, William. Jacob, they’re nice people. Jenny’s going to have a baby, and her husband is an engineer."
"I know. He’s bidding on an engineering project in Argentina." Veins popped out on Jacob’s temples. "You just assured him of getting it."
"What?" Robyn turned to stare straight at him. "How? And if you tell me I don’t need to know I swear I’ll hit you." Robyn reached for her shoe. She needed something stronger than her hand.
"We keep tabs on this house, too. I believe the couple living there are exactly as they appear." Jacob sat back, straightening his tie. Robyn felt as if he were straightening his identity. "For that reason alone," he continued, "I’ll make sure William Bryant gets that job, and in record time they will be relocated to Argentina."
"What about the baby? Will there be sufficient medical facilities for her?"
"She’ll be fine." Jacob’s voice was low. "You have my word on it."
Robyn looked into his eyes. He smiled at her and diffused her anger. "Do they really have to go before the baby?" She thought of all the doctors and sterile equipment that had been on hand in case of emergency when Kari was born. Would Jenny Bryant’s baby have the same chance?
"You should never have come here." Jacob was nodding. "Now, we have to try and rectify any presence that could have an impact on your safety."
Robyn slumped in the corner of the luxurious car and sulked. Why couldn’t she act like Jacob wanted her to? Why did she allow Grant to manipulate her life? Suddenly, his smiling face focused in front of her. It was that disarming smile that had her forgetting all of her promises and flying around the world with him when she knew sooner or later Jacob would find out.
"Would it make any difference if I said I was sorry?" Robyn asked, not turning to look at the figure sitting stiffly beside her.
"Not much, but I would like to hear it."
"All right, Jacob, I’m sorry."
"Why did you lie to me?"
"I didn’t lie to you. At least at the time, I wasn’t lying. And I did do what you asked. I tried to resist him, Jacob." Robyn turned then and took hold of Jacob’s arms. "I’m in love with him. Haven’t you ever been in love with someone, Jacob? So in love you’d do anything for her?"
Damn, Robyn! I don’t want to remember. Jacob looked at the misty eyes imploring him to forgive her. He knew he couldn’t deny her request. Yes, he’d been in love before. Cynthia. He hadn’t wanted to think about Cynthia, but Robyn made him remember. When he’d seen Robyn and known she had to be made over, the thought of stamping Cynthia’s face on the scared woman was uppermost in his mind. He had resisted, knowing if he had tried, Chase Dalrymple would have pulled his hand.
Wrenching his thoughts back to the air-conditioned car, he answered softly, "I’ve been in love," he paused. "Robyn." He called her by her real name.
The tears Robyn had been holding spilled down her face, and she shrank into the corner of the luxury seat.
"Where are we going?" she asked, patting her cheeks and seeing the 14th Street Bridge outside the car window. The limousine was heading for northern Virginia.
"The airport."
"Your plane leaves in an hour. Marianne will pick you up when you arrive."
"Is she in on this, too, Jacob?"
"No," he answered directly. Robyn was so used to his evasions that she believed him.
"What about the clothes I left at Grant’s apartment?"
"They’re waiting at the airport."
"What’s happened to his car? And this is Susan’s dress." Susan had hastily packed her something to wear before she left last night. Robyn hadn’t thought of anything but staying the night with Grant. While Susan had remembered practical things, reminding her how strange she’d look in a formal gown at ten o’clock in the morning.
"I’ll see to it," Jacob told her in his usual noncommittal style.
"All the loose ends will be tied?" Robyn leaned forward. Her hair swung over her shoulders. She shifted in the seat and stared directly at the man next to her. "Jacob, I promise to comply with all your conditions."
"Without exception?" One eyebrow went up, the only indication of his disbelief. "With one exception."
"Go on."
"Susan and David are getting married the third weekend in August. I want to go to the wedding."
"No!"
"Jacob, she’s my best friend. She asked me to her wedding. I want to go. Then, I promise, I’ll do whatever you say."
"No, Brooke. You’re asking the impossible. You should never have come here in the first place. You should not have made contact with any of them."
"But it’s too late, Jacob, I’ve already passed that point. We’ve seen each other, talked to each other. They’ve invited me to the wedding, and I want to come. After that, I’ll go back into hiding, and you’ll never have cause to argue with me again. If you want me to move, I’ll move. If you want Kari and I to change our names and disappear, we’ll do it. I’ll become the compliant female you always wanted me to be."
Jacob stared at Robyn. He found no comfort in her words. He’d tried to make her do what he wanted, but she never was the typical inductee. She was temperamental, feisty, alive, and wonderful—everything he’d ever wanted in a woman. Now, for a few hours at a friend’s wedding, a friend who didn’t even recognize her, she was willing to become a docile protectee.
"All right, you can go to the wedding."
"Thank you, Jacob." For the second time that day, she flung herself into his arms.
"Hold it, there are conditions." He pushed her away.
"Anything."
"You arrive shortly before the ceremony. Afterwards, you can spend only enough time at the reception to be considered socially acceptable. Then, you’ll be flown back. Acceptable."
She heard the take-it-or-leave-it note in his voice. "Acceptable." She looked at her hands. "Is it all right if I bring Kari."
His heart went out to the baby he’d once held. Jacob hated to think of putting her in danger, but the child could be used as a barrier to keep the plan intact if anyone tried to change it. By anyone he meant Robyn. "Yes, bring Kari."
"Then, what, Jacob? Are we going to have to move, change our names and our faces again?"
Jacob ignored her question. "Why didn’t you tell me about the poison or the photograph?"
Robyn lifted her head and directed her gaze at him. "How did. . ." She didn’t complete the thought, knowing Jacob wouldn’t answer.
"Has there been anything else I should know about?"
Robyn hesitated, refusing to drop her head. "My wings," she said quietly. "The day after the poison was found, a delivery was made to the restaurant. Inside the box was a pair of plastic wings. Grant had given them to me the night we got married. They were in my jewelry case when I. . .when we left for the airport." It was the day Grant came home. The television had been full of the reports about the hostages being released. Robyn had held the plastic wings in her hand. Then, she had dropped them in the box and closed it.
"How do you know they were yours? There must be thousands of those given out every year."
"The right side of the wing had a chip in it. Grant had offered to get me another one, but I wanted that one. On the back side of it, he carved my initials and the date I flew solo." Robyn was quiet for a long while. "Jacob, I’m scared. He knows who I am."
"Brooke, we’re aware of what’s happening. We’ll keep you safe. I promise."
Robyn stared at him. His face was open and honest, something he rarely showed to her or the world. What was going to happen to her? "Are we going to have to move, Jacob?" she asked again.
"Your plane is waiting."
The car stopped, and the driver was holding the door open. Robyn looked at the familiar terminal entrance to Reagan National Airport. She took the driver’s extended hand and slid out of the limousine. Jacob followed her. He led her straight through the terminal and to the departure gate, showing an I.D. as they bypassed the security machinery.
"Don’t worry about anything, Brooke. We’ll handle it." Jacob looked at her without the veil that always clouded his eyes. He was close enough to touch, yet the distance between them could have been miles.
"Grant. He’ll be all right?" she asked, pleading apparent in her eyes.
"I said we’d handle it."
"How?"
He took her arm and rushed her down the gangway. "You’re holding up the plane."
At the entrance to the steel aircraft, she stopped. "Tell me? How are you going to stop Grant? He’ll call or fly in."
"I’m expecting you to discourage that." The phrase was a definite threat, implying if she didn’t—he would.
Chapter 13
Jacob needed a drink. He hadn’t felt this gnawing hunger to drown his feelings in a bottle since she had died. Robyn had asked him if he’d ever been in love. Cynthia wasn’t his first love, but she was the woman he’d wanted to marry.
It was dark in the nation’s Capital. The streets outside his office window were wet from a light rain. Car lights were reflected on the street’s damp surface, making a picture postcard of Pennsylvania Avenue.
He looked back at the desk. The computer screen beckoned. With several keystrokes, the monitor flickered, and she was there. It had been over nine years since he’d looked at Cynthia. Yet, there she was, hidden behind three levels of computer coding and several passwords. Tonight, Jacob needed her. He needed to remember. He hadn’t been responsible for Cynthia’s death. If she’d only done what he told her, she might be alive today. But she was too headstrong for that. She hadn’t stayed hidden in the basement of the farmhouse where he left her, and she’d been killed.
Just like Robyn. She, too, wouldn’t take direction. She defied him at every turn. Yet, he loved Robyn. But not the way he’d loved Cynthia. The two women were alike in temperament and beauty. Both of them got into his blood, and both refused to live the comfortable lives set up for them.
He had to admit he liked that in them. The majority of people he’d dealt with since becoming part of WitSec were too complacent, eager to get away and start an easy life at the government’s expense. Robyn hadn’t been one of them. She’d given up everything and fought valiantly to carve out a life for herself. But she wasn’t living. Jacob knew that. She was going through the motions, giving everything she had to enhance someone else’s life, but not her own. She’d hired an alcoholic music director, giving him the chance to pull his life together. Some of the waiters had prison records or were former juvenile delinquents.
Jacob had them carefully screened. Currently, nothing about them posed a threat. Most of them were too young to have been involved with Alex Jordan or the Network. Need to intervene in her hiring practices hadn’t been necessary, yet. And the latest one, an aspiring act
ress named Sue-Ellen. What he’d noticed happened with the people she helped was that they developed a fierce loyalty to her. He knew if anything were to jeopardize her, he could press these people into service, and without question, they’d rally to her aid.
***
Yesterdays had been a red wooden structure with ornate wrought-iron balustrades when Robyn bought it. Vinyl siding in light blue with white accents now supported the exterior frame. A single sign of rich red, deeply etched with gold lettering, denoted the name of the restaurant.
Robyn went up the walkway. She noticed everything tonight. The grass had been cut that morning, and the smell reminded her of fresh watermelon. She watched the wide expanse of it perfectly cutting out a circular driveway as it led to the front door. She rarely used this entrance, but tonight, instead of driving, she’d decided to walk the short distance from her house to Delaware Avenue. Arriving just before sunset, she could see the play of rays on the distant sky. It was red like spilled wine.
A couple, laughing as they passed her on their way to the door, brought her out of the suspended state she was in. Taking the last few steps to the canopied door, she entered. The old walls that had made the foyer narrow and dark had been removed. The area opened up on thick red carpeting that her feet sinking into it. She smiled at a group sitting on the comfortable chairs to her right. It was the usual meeting place for friends arriving at slightly separate times. From above, a huge chandelier brightly lighted the dark paneling and threw out arrays of prisms from the cut glass.
Upstairs were the small dining rooms and private party rooms. Robyn went toward her dressing room. The show wasn’t due to start for an hour, but she liked to be prepared. At a moment’s notice, she could be called upon to handle an emergency.
Tonight, she’d chosen a gown of black satin. It had a high neck and long sleeves. The gentle folds of the fabric fell about her legs like silk and ended at the black high heels she wore. From the left shoulder to the hem, glittery beads formed an exotic bird. The dress reminded her of flying. And, tonight, she felt like flying. She’d spent the last week depressed, going over and over in her mind what to do when Grant returned.
Under the Sheets (Capitol Chronicles Book 1) Page 18