by Kim Baldwin
“I hate this waiting around,” Joanne said. “Every minute that goes by, Jaclyn is—”
Reno rushed in, his laptop in one hand and computer printouts in the other. “We’ll find her,” he said with confidence, “now that TQ’s no longer a ghost.”
They all took seats at one end of the conference table.
“The headline is, TQ and Theodora Rothschild are one and the same,” Reno said as he passed printouts to each of them.
Monty scanned his. On top was a color passport photo of an attractive, middle-aged woman with white hair and eyes devoid of warmth or emotion. Beneath it was a birth certificate.
“Rothschild is her married name,” Reno said. “She was born Theodora Quinevere Lassiter on March 29, 1962, according to her birth certificate. That’s the same day as the faked date of death registered for Dario’s sibling. The city matches, too—Wichita, Kansas. Parents of record are a Howard and Ellen Lassiter. He’s deceased, and she’s in a nursing home with Alzheimer’s, so no help there. I wasn’t able to find any connection between the Lassiters and Imperis, but they lived only a few blocks away from each other, so they may have known each other through a common church or school or something.”
Monty scanned the next printout as Reno’s briefing continued.
“Theodora Lassiter married Philip Victor Nathaniel Rothschild, heir to the British banking branch of the noble family, in 1982. A year later, Philip founded the Rothschild Auction Houses in Houston, but he didn’t get much of a chance to enjoy it. He was found dead in his bed by their maid six months later, while his wife was away on a spa vacation. They performed an autopsy since he was only forty, but the results were inconclusive.”
Reno picked up the computer sheet. “Theodora—TQ—took over the auction houses, which last year reported a net income to the IRS of forty-two million dollars. She never remarried, keeps a very low profile, and is rarely photographed. Her home address is a penthouse in Houston, but she also has an office in D.C. The addresses of both are listed at the bottom of page four in your handout.”
“Great work, Reno,” Monty said.
“We need to throw a lot of manpower at both locations simultaneously,” Arthur said. “And we have to do it fast. Should we call in the feds?”
Monty shook his head. “Too risky. We have to deal with this ourselves. She’s proved she has allies in law enforcement and government all the way up to the White House. We don’t know who to trust, and I won’t jeopardize Jaclyn’s welfare or chance TQ getting tipped off and being able to destroy any records she has about her holdings and criminal enterprises.”
“Who’s immediately available for Texas?” Arthur asked.
“Cameo, Blade, and Wasp are here,” Joanne replied, referencing three other top members of their Elite Tactical Force who’d come back to the Colorado campus for a debriefing from their last mission. “Viper and Ranger are both in Austin and can get there in no time.”
“Get our jet readied ASAP,” Monty said to Reno as he jumped to his feet. “And have my car brought around front.”
Joanne protested. “There’s no need for you to go to Texas. We have five people on it.”
“I know. That’s why I’m going to Washington,” he replied. “The others can charter a private jet. If Jaclyn is anywhere, it’s near the capital. She’s hurt and bleeding. TQ would never have her travel back to Texas in her current condition, if Jack was ever even there in the first place. I know the bitch is holding her at her D.C. office or somewhere in the vicinity. Reno, you’ll guide me when I get there.”
“Us,” Arthur said. “I’ll get my gear and change.”
“I’m coming with you, too,” Cassady said from the door, where she’d apparently heard enough to get the crux of the plan.
“Then get ready,” Monty said.
“You leave in thirty,” Reno informed them.
Joanne frowned. “Monty, you are in no condition to—”
“I have to do this, Joanne.” Monty went to her and embraced her tightly. “I’m going to personally bring my daughter back.”
Chapter Thirty-four
Burke, Virginia
Shield scooted to the edge of the couch and Wagner sat next to her, though with obvious reluctance. “How’s the pain?”
Wagner looked down at herself. “I don’t really remember removing my shirt, but it hurts less now.”
“I know. All you needed was a rush.”
Wagner stared at her, incredulous. “You mean that whole conversation…everything was to piss me off?”
“It worked,” Shield replied.
“But you still meant every word.”
“More or less.” Shield moved to pull her shirt away. “May I?”
Wagner let the garment fall to her lap. “How bad?” She winced when she took a good look at the wound. “What a mess.”
“It’ll look better after I clean it up.” She removed gauze bandages and iodine from the kit. “It won’t be pleasant.”
Wagner took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”
She took her time cleaning the wound, being thorough but as gentle as possible. She knew from experience how painful flesh wounds could be and this one was pretty deep, but Wagner never flinched or complained. She sat stoically, staring at a spot on the floor, and occasionally gritted her teeth. One thing was for sure—this woman was a survivor.
She was surprised to learn that Wagner was an orphan, too, and had spent her life trying to satisfy and seek approval. Her remarks were spot-on concerning Shield’s decisions or lack of them. She’d been raised by a company, not a family. A company that had put a roof over her head and given her much in the way of education, but never a home. Pierce and crew made a point of never getting too attached to the children. They raised soldiers, not their own offspring, after all. But the fact that the EOO had deemed her worthy enough for adoption made her feel indebted, and that’s why she never declined a job or gave less than her best.
Who knew where she’d be today if the EOO hadn’t taken her in? Plenty of kids never got adopted and ended up in disturbed foster homes, run by couples looking to make easy cash that they never spent on the child. Wagner was a prime example. She’d had to fight for herself since she was born and had probably done it regardless of consequences or dreadful odds. Shield couldn’t help but respect Wagner’s tenacity and determination to survive in a world that had rejected her. “If you’re not gay, and you weren’t trying to seduce me for gain or because Moore asked you to, why did you kiss me?”
Wagner visibly flinched for the first time. “That hurt.”
She paused, tweezers poised above the wound. “Try not to move, okay?”
Wagner went back to staring at her spot on the carpet. “I don’t know,” she said after a long while. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”
Shield smiled. “You mean kiss someone or kiss a woman?”
“Both.”
The reply was such a surprise Shield stopped cleaning the wound and looked at her.
“I’ve let men kiss me, but I’ve never made the first move,” Wagner said.
Shield picked up the gauze. She wasn’t sure why, but the thought of any man kissing Wagner disturbed her.
“I’ve never felt the need to make the first move,” Wagner said. “Or the second, for that matter.”
“Shy?”
“Not at all. Just indifferent. I dated men—three in total—because it was something girls were supposed to do. I got fed up with friends…acquaintances and colleagues, really…calling me a nun, so I started to hang out at bars after work to meet guys.”
“How did that work out?” Shield had no desire to hear the details of Wagner’s love life. Quite the opposite, actually. But something wasn’t right about her sexual choices. Wagner had looked at Kennedy in a way that only a woman with a deep appreciation for another woman would.
“It didn’t. I didn’t. I went through the motions during all three short-lived relationships.”
“Didn’
t they notice?”
Wagner hesitated. “Eventually,” she mumbled as Shield wrapped the gauze around her shoulder. “Anyway, I gave up on dates years ago. I don’t care what people say anymore. I refuse to put myself through the pain and embarrassment of explanations and verbal abuse.”
“What do you mean?”
“Explaining to men why I…forget it.”
“Why what?”
Wagner turned red and looked away. “It’s personal.”
“I understand. I don’t mean to pry. I was worried they physically hurt you.”
“No, nothing like that. Sure, they’d get rough sometimes out of frustration, but it was the verbal aggression that was brutal.”
Shield remembered the insults Carmen had spat at her only too well, but there had never been any physical abuse. Was Wagner, like so many women, trying to cover for these idiots by belittling the topic? “Rough?” she asked. “You shouldn’t excuse any kind of roughness.”
“You don’t understand. They never hit or hurt me, it’s just…” Wagner looked embarrassed. “They’d get rough in bed because it frustrated them no end that I couldn’t climax. It made them feel incompetent, and they’d eventually storm out the door screaming about how frigid I am. One called me a corpse.” Wagner blew out a long breath. “Anyway, that was then. As long as I stay clear of dates and sex, I never have to hear those words again.”
“How does your arm feel?” Shield asked when she finished wrapping her shoulder.
Wagner looked down as if surprised to see it was over. “Tolerable, as long as I don’t move it.”
Shield got up and found a towel in the bathroom she could fashion into a sling. “This will help take the weight off your arm,” she said as she helped Wagner into it. Then she grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around Wagner’s shoulders. “I’ll wash these,” she said, picking up the soiled clothes, “and get a fire started.”
She could feel Wagner watch her as she tended to her tasks. Once the fire was blazing, she scrubbed the shirt and hoodie and laid them to dry across a chair set by the fireplace. “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until tomorrow for something to eat,” she said as she rejoined Wagner on the couch. “I’ll go into town early in the morning, but we should lie low for a day at least.”
“What’s going to happen to me after we leave here?”
“I don’t know. What you did is—”
“I know.” Wagner watched the flames with a resigned, defeated expression. “Looks like I’m going to jail, after all.”
Shield wanted to say anything to comfort her, but the law was clear and unforgiving when it came to the president’s safety. “There’s always a chance Thomas doesn’t talk.”
“That’s what they planned on. Her silence.”
“We’ll see.”
“Your people will have me arrested even if Thomas doesn’t.”
“Only if they’re asked to,” Shield said. “We don’t take jobs unless we’re hired.”
Wagner’s eyes met hers. “I disgust you, don’t I?”
“No. I guess most people in your position would have done what you did.”
“I’m so sorry I got you involved,” Wagner said quietly, and looked away again. “I never meant for any of this to happen, and I never knew they were going to kill innocent people. They told me very little about their plans except what involved me directly.”
Shield nodded in understanding.
“I wanted to tell you so many times, but…”
“Yes, you said. You were afraid.”
“I wanted to trust you.”
“But you didn’t. What bothers me are not your reasons for doing what you did but your lies. I could have gotten us both out.”
“I didn’t believe you could,” Wagner said. “This woman is so dangerous. I’d never be able to live with it if something had happened to you because of me.”
“It almost did anyway.”
“I just hope you can one day forgive me.”
“Why does it matter?”
Wagner shrugged. “I…just do.”
“The worst thing about being lied to,” Shield said, not bothering to hide the hurt in her voice, “is knowing you weren’t worth the truth.”
“You asked me why I kissed you.”
Shield turned to look at her.
“I did it because it was the only way I could tell you how much I trusted you.”
“Are you in the habit of kissing everyone you trust?”
“Probably not, although I wouldn’t know. I’ve never trusted anyone.”
Shield got up to poke the wood in the fireplace. Sometimes, she wished she could say those same words, but her blind faith had once almost destroyed her and everything she cared about. “You’re lucky.”
“I thought so, too.” Wagner bit her lip. “Until you made me realize how lonely and alone I was. How lacking in happiness.”
Shield was confused. “I did that?”
“You made me feel beautiful, special, and respected. You…” Wagner swiped at a lone tear running down her cheek. “You made me feel something new, and I finally understood what it was like to be wanted.”
Shield went back to the couch. She wanted to be the one to wipe away that tear but couldn’t. She didn’t know how to let go of the imposter and embrace this other woman.
Wagner apparently could sense her ambivalence. “You can’t even say my name,” she said. “You’ve avoided using it since you found out I wasn’t Thomas.”
“I’m sorry. I just don’t know how to deal with you.”
“With a florist?”
“Yes…I mean, no.” Shield rubbed her tired eyes. “It’s not that you’re a florist. If nothing else, it’s a more honest occupation than politics. I don’t know how to handle Ryden when she looks so much like Elizabeth.”
“I can hardly deal with it,” Wagner replied. “But I assure you, the resemblance is superficial.”
“I’ll say.”
“Yes, okay.” Wagner shifted farther away on the couch with a scowl. “I know I don’t have her education, wealth, or power. I’m a nobody with a rap sheet, wanted for murder, and God forbid someone of your caliber would ever…” She got up. “Regardless of what you think of me,” she said, cringing from the pain, “I’m pretty damn happy with myself. I’m a decent, hardworking individual who’s never harmed a fly. If you can’t understand that, then too bad.”
Shield got up as well and stood in front of her. “Someone of my caliber would what? What do you think my caliber is?” She was tired of people measuring her worth by her money.
“You have a name, money, stature.”
“So?”
“So, I’m not Carmen or Thomas. I can’t measure up to them.”
“Carmen was a lying, deceiving bitch who was with me for my money and vineyard,” she explained, a bitter taste in her mouth from the memory. “I met her in her uncle’s restaurant, where she worked as a waitress. She and her husband—who I knew nothing about, but was the master of their twisted game—tried to make me give up half my property.”
“What? How?”
“She never said she was married. She said she’d always been straight but had fallen in love with me. I believed her and fell hard for her and her stories. We lived together for four years, and I loved her, trusted her, and never had any reasons to look further. The next year, she started talking about signing over half of my property, putting the vineyards in her name because we’d been together for five years and she felt she deserved half of everything as my partner for her support.”
“And you did it.”
“Almost. I came home one day and found her in my bed with some guy who turned out to be her husband. Both of them had been living on my money for years. Every cent I gave to Carmen—all the money she’d ever asked for, for trips while I was away for work, expensive clothes, you name it—she used to support her husband and build up a pretty good savings.”
“What did you do?”
>
“I told them to keep the money, but if I ever saw them anywhere near my property I’d shoot them. Haven’t seen them since. That was three years ago.”
“So, aside from being an evil conspirator out to help a villain take over the world…you also think I want to use you for your money.”
Shield looked away.
“Well, that’s just great. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll soon be going off to jail and will never see you again.” Wagner walked over to the chair with her clothes and felt to see if the T-shirt was dry. “I need to get some sleep. My shoulder hurts and I’m exhausted, as I’m sure you are.”
Ryden flipped the shirt to let the other side dry, then did the same with the hoodie. Then she stared into the fireplace, opening the blanket slightly to let the heat reach her skin. Although she felt safe with Kennedy there, she wished more than ever she could be alone. She could understand and accept Kennedy’s anger when it had to do with lying about who she was and what she had been asked to do. But she refused to deal with the accusation of being a gold digger.
Money had never been important to her. She’d spent just about every extra dime she’d ever made on shelters and animals. Ryden figured they needed it more than she did, and half the time she wasted what money she did have on her. She either lost it somewhere between cushions or cab seats or forgot and left it in a pocket and the washing machine destroyed it. What mattered were her wax creations and privacy. “We should stay in here with the fire. You can have the couch. I’ll sleep on the floor,” Ryden said, without turning around.
“No.” Kennedy’s voice came from right behind her.
She was so startled, she whirled around and almost collided with Kennedy. “I don’t mind the fl—” She inhaled sharply when she saw the look in Kennedy’s eyes. Dangerous but not threatening. Hungry but not angry.
“No, I don’t think you’re after my money.” Kennedy stood so close Ryden felt her breath with every word spoken.