Shot in the Dark

by Tracy Solheim

William was waiting for her again at the front door.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Josslyn,” the butler said. “You’re home just in time to have tea with your father. Chef Chevalier made apple tarts. And let me tell you, they smell delicious.”

  “Everything Marin makes is delicious,” Josslyn replied with a smile. “I’m going to gain ten pounds the first week I’m staying here.”

  She took the stairs up to the residence floor, surprised that her father was seated in the West Hall chatting amiably with the mansion’s head housekeeper, Terrie.

  “There’s my girl.”

  Her father’s words stole her breath.

  “What have you been up to today, Josslyn?” he asked.

  Terrie rose from the sofa.

  “He’s having a good day,” she whispered as she gave Josslyn’s shoulder a gentle pat. “Take advantage of it while it lasts.”

  It was true that some Alzheimer’s patients experienced days where their memory was functioning, but Daddy hadn’t had one of those in nearly a year.

  “Oh, Daddy.” Josslyn leaned down and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’ve missed you.”

  The smell of his cologne mingling with ever-present butterscotch candy he munched on wrapped around her like a blanket, comforting her in its familiarity.

  He patted her on the shoulder. “I’m here now,” he said.

  The physician in him was always cognizant of how fleeting moments like these were. The thought made her eyes burn.

  “You’ve been with your pachyderm friends today, I see. Or, rather, I smell.”

  The sound of his laugh made her smile.

  “Only the elephants.” She slid to the floor, resting her cheek against his legs just like she’d done as a child. “I brought Dax here from San Francisco. We’re hoping he’ll mate with one of the females and help populate the herd.”

  He ran his palm over her head. “That’s my daughter, the elephant matchmaker.”

  “Hey, I prefer to think of myself as a sophisticated genetic engineer, thank you very much.”

  “Well, whatever it is that you call yourself, I know you do your best at it.” He kissed the top of her head.

  They sat there in a comfortable silence. Her father enjoyed one of the apple tarts while Josslyn tried to soak up of every minute of his lucidity. Storing up the memory of his laugh, his touch, and his smile so she could pull them out and savor them in the future when his recollection of her was locked up tight in his mind again.

  Footsteps on the plush carpet behind them shattered the moment. She looked up as Director Worcester and a wary looking Agent Lockett purposely strode into the room.

  “Please excuse us,” the director said. “Dr. Benoit, would you mind if we borrow your daughter for a few moments?”

  “I mind,” Josslyn snapped. She had no idea how long this time with her daddy would last and she deeply resented the interruption. “Isn’t it enough that you threw my whole schedule into a frenzy with your wild-goose chase today, Agent Lockett?”

  The director sighed resolutely. “We’re still trying to determine if it was a wild-goose chase, as you call it. This will only take a moment.”

  Agent Lockett remained stoic beside his boss, but she couldn’t help noticing how his eyes softened when he looked at her father.

  “Josslyn,” Daddy said. “Don’t be so fresh. I’ll be right here when you get back.”

  The juvenile part of her wanted to make him promise, but Daddy had little to no control over his mind. Rising to her feet, she kissed him on the cheek. “Save one of those tarts for me.”

  “I make no promises,” he said as if he’d read her thought from a second ago.

  She followed the director and Agent Lockett into the Yellow Oval Room. The adjacent Truman Balcony offered a spectacular view of the afternoon sun sliding behind the Washington Monument.

  “I’ll get right to the point,” the director began. “It seems that whatever you got mixed up in while you were in Zimbabwe might have followed you here.”

  “Whatever I was mixed up in?” she practically shouted as her agitation grew. “We were filming a documentary. We ran into some poachers. They discovered us filming. Trevor got shot. The marines came in and rescued me. Again. End of story.”

  The silent communication the men exchanged infuriated her even more.

  “Are you going to tell me what this is all about?” she demanded.

  The director nodded to Agent Lockett. He opened up the tablet he was carrying and powered it up. “Do you recognize this man?”

  Josslyn sucked in a breath, willing her knees not to buckle. “Is this the man you were chasing today?”

  When neither man answered, she took the tablet from Agent Lockett’s hands. Her mind hadn’t been playing tricks on her. It was him.

  “You know him.” Agent Lockett edged closer.

  She deflected. “Was this picture taken today?”

  “Damn it, Josslyn, stop playing games,” he ordered. “How does this guy fit into the puzzle?”

  “You tell me,” she countered. “You’re the one with his picture.”

  She was glad for the director’s presence because Agent Lockett looked as if he might strangle her.

  “He’s one of seven people to come from Zimbabwe since you arrived here two days ago,” the director explained.

  “Seven?” Josslyn whipped around to face the director. “Do you know anything about the others?”

  She swallowed a frustrated scream as the two men exchanged another one of those looks.

  “Four women, two men, and one child,” the director answered.

  Hope fluttered in her chest. “A child? How old?”

  Agent Lockett pressed a button on his phone. “Ben, can you give me intel on the others from Zimbabwe?”

  Josslyn’s heart beat furiously while they waited. Finally, the tablet beeped. Not waiting for Agent Lockett, she swiped at the message. She released a breath she wasn’t aware she’d been holding in when she caught sight of the photo of Ngoni looking back at her.

  “He’s safe,” she murmured.

  A wave of relief washed over her. They hadn’t gotten the young informant killed. She’d need to let Trevor and Hugh know as soon as possible. And then she needed to figure out why Ngoni’s older brother was chasing after her. Before she did any of that, however, she was spending time with her father.

  “Who’s safe?” both men demanded.

  “Can this wait until later this evening? My father could be sundowning as we speak.”

  The director looked as if he was going to deny her request, but Agent Lockett interceded on her behalf.

  “Fine. But only if you agree to tell us everything that you know,” he insisted.

  She was tempted to lie, but the softness was there in his eyes again. And he’d taken her side against the director. That had to count for something. She suspected he’d guessed a good portion of her story anyway.

  “Fine,” she agreed, mimicking him.

  He studied her for a long moment. “Enjoy your time with your father,” he said quietly, gesturing for the director to precede him out of the room.

  “Agent Lockett,” she called after him. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll be downstairs waiting,” he replied, the softness completely evaporated from his eyes. “Don’t make me wait all night.”

  *

  “Find the kid,” Adam commanded into the phone. “Doolittle was worried about him for some reason. He’s the key to whatever this is. If we find him, we find the guy with the rhino tattoos.”

  Clicking off the phone, he rested his forehead in his palms and sighed.

  “That sounds like a book,” a familiar voice said. “The Guy with the Rhino Tattoos.”

  His friend, Griffin Keller, sat down in the chair opposite Adam. They were the only ones occupying the Secret Service director’s office on the ground floor.

  “What are you doing here?” Adam asked. “Last time I checked you were a G-man now.”


  Griffin left the Secret Service a few months back to take a job at Treasury, one with more predictable hours. Apparently, that was what settling down did to a man. Ben and Adam teased their roommate mercilessly, but Griffin just kept flashing his trademark dimples. It was hard to deny being engaged made the guy happy, but Adam would just as soon keep his independence. Thank you very much.

  “Marin and I are going out on a date,” Griffin said. “You remember what those are, don’t you?”

  Shit!

  Adam glanced at his phone. Seven eighteen. He was supposed to pick up Kathy—Katy, whatever the physical therapist’s name was, forty-eight minutes ago. He quickly scrolled through his contacts. Kasey. That was her name. She picked up on the first ring.

  “I’m terribly sorry. Something came up here at the White House and I couldn’t get to a phone.”

  Griffin smirked at the lie. Adam flipped him off. He offered the obligatory rain check and, to his relief, she agreed.

  “Two dates in two nights,” Griffin teased when Adam finished his call. “You’re definitely feeling better.”

  Adam scowled at him. “Last night wasn’t a date.”

  His friend’s grin grew. “That’s not how Ben described it. In fact, he said there was some tonsil hockey being played.”

  “Ben has a big mouth.”

  Griffin sobered up. “Look, you get a free pass here because you’ve never actually worked a detail before,” he said. “But rule number one—never get romantically involved with a protectee.”

  “Seriously? This from a guy who’s marrying the woman he was protecting?”

  “Technically, I wasn’t protecting Marin,” Griffin pointed out. “I was investigating her. There’s a difference.”

  Adam bristled. “First of all, the only one who categorized last night as a date was Doolittle. And secondly, I am investigating her.”

  That got his friend’s attention. “You think she really is up to something?”

  “When is that woman not up to something?” Adam ran his fingers through his hair. “She doesn’t seem to realize that when you start throwing flames, there’s a good chance you’ll get burned in the process.”

  “Does the president know?”

  “The director briefed his chief of staff an hour ago,” Adam replied. “Short of physical restraint, there’s not much we can do except have eyes on her twenty-four seven.”

  “And which part did you volunteer for?” Griffin asked. “The physical restraints or the twenty-four seven surveillance?”

  Adam didn’t bother responding. As much as he liked the idea of tying Josslyn up to keep her out of trouble, the erotic image caused beads of sweat to form at the back of his neck. He sighed in frustration. Griffin laughed out loud.

  “What I’m going to do is my job,” Adam announced. “Which is to keep her from putting herself in harm’s way while the professionals get to the bottom of this.”

  He swore beneath his breath, still angry for missing a good opportunity to resolve the situation when he’d lost the guy in the zoo. Disgust burned deep in Adam’s belly at the way he’d frozen up. That hadn’t happened in years. He blamed his dream last night. And he blamed the recurrence of that damn dream on the She-Devil.

  They’d move a lot more quickly toward solving the situation if she’d only cooperate and share what she knew. And Adam was sure she knew quite a lot. He could have insisted she talk earlier, but that would have meant tearing her away from her father who was shockingly lucid for the first time since he arrived months ago. He’d seen the way her eyes kept darting back to the sofa where the older man was sitting. As frustrated as the woman made him, that hint of vulnerability shadowing her face got to him. He made a mental note to keep his guard up to that in the future.

  The sound of high heels tapping on the marble floor drew both men’s attention to the doorway. Marin strolled into the office, looking like she’d just stepped out of the pages of Maxim. The dress she wore fit her like a second skin. Its clingy blue fabric made the blue of her eyes even bolder and her hips more provocative. No doubt about it, his friend was a lucky man.

  Both men stood to greet her. Griffin draped an arm around Marin’s shoulders before flashing Adam a proprietary grin that very clearly said, “She’s all mine.” Little did Griff know, he was actually the one enslaved. His buddy would find that out soon enough, Adam thought with a chuckle.

  “Have they finished dinner?” Adam asked her.

  Marin nodded. “A little while ago. It was just Josslyn and her dad tonight, so the meal was very casual.”

  “Is Dr. Benoit still . . . himself?”

  She smiled warmly. “He is. The First Lady had hoped this might happen. Josslyn hasn’t taken her father’s Alzheimer’s well.”

  That might explain some of her increased rash behavior, but it didn’t excuse it.

  “Is he still up?”

  “His nurse was on the way in when I came downstairs.”

  Adam grabbed his tablet and headed for the residence floor. The director was still at dinner in the Navy Mess. Technically, he should wait for his boss before interrogating her. But Adam had a few persuasive tools in his arsenal that might just make Josslyn open up. And he’d rather the director not witness them.

  “Enjoy your date,” he called over his shoulder.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, he quickly rounded the corner into the dimly lit Center Hall, stopping short at the sound of music. Josslyn and her father were sitting side by side on the bench in front of the Baldwin grand piano President Truman had brought to the White House. She played a tune unknown to Adam while Dr. Benoit hummed along. Once again, this tender side of Josslyn baffled him. Among other things.

  The piano music ended and a restful quiet settled over the long, narrow room. Adam hesitated to intrude on the precious moments between parent and child, but it was only a matter of time before the director arrived. He needed to get Josslyn alone quickly.

  “Excuse me,” Adam said.

  “Ah, just in time.” Dr. Benoit turned to his daughter. “My medicine is beginning to tire me out. But here is a handsome young man to keep you company in my absence.”

  He kissed her on the cheek. Josslyn wrapped her arms around her father’s neck tightly. A murmured exchange followed. Her father tapped her chest. The smile he gave didn’t quite match the sorrow in his eyes. Apparently, she saw it too because she looked away quickly.

  The nurse escorted the doctor to the stairs. Dr. Benoit stopped short of Adam.

  “Look after her,” he instructed quietly.

  “I’ll do my best,” Adam assured him without hesitation.

  The doctor nodded with a wry grin. He was likely aware of the force of nature his daughter was. With a last tender look back at her, Dr. Benoit left the hall. Josslyn stayed where she was, plunking at the keys of the piano.

  Adam decided to get right to the point. “Who is he?”

  “The guy who outran you today?” She played a few bars of “The Monkey Chases the Weasel.” The woman had to be the most maddening female on the planet.

  “Yeah,” Adam bit out. “That guy.”

  She sighed as her fingers danced over the keys of the grand piano playing the opening strains of Toto’s “Africa.”

  “Joss,” Adam urged.

  The use of her shortened name seemed to startle her. She mashed the keys down making the piano sound otherworldly before spinning around on the bench in a huff. But she didn’t meet his eyes. He wondered if she too was suddenly consumed with memories of what they’d shared that night in the Pacific. At some point during their escapade, she’d stopped being the sister-in-law of the then president-elect and had simply become Joss, a vulnerable, passionate, woman. A woman, he was beginning to realize, he still very much craved.

  Adam physically shook the thoughts from his head. His first priority was to do what he’d just promised her father and keep her safe. In order to do that, he needed answers and he needed them now. “You said you’d come clean.�
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  “I’m getting really tired of being made the culprit here.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and cocked an eyebrow at her. She jumped from the bench and began pacing the hall.

  She heaved a weary-sounding sigh. “He’s a member of a tribe in Zimbabwe that we believe works for one of the largest animal poaching rings on the African continent.”

  “We?”

  “For the hundredth time, members of Global Wildlife Conservation,” she snapped. “Contrary to what you believe, I’m not just running some solo vigilante mission against anyone I believe is harming animals. The GWC has spent years acquiring evidence.”

  “And this guy somehow figured out you were on to him when you were out on the plains filming a documentary for the Smithsonian? I’m not buying it.”

  She wandered over to the octagonal partners’ desk that stood as the dividing point between the Center Hall’s two receiving areas. “We were working with an informant. He was supposed to meet us that day.”

  “The kid.”

  Josslyn nodded. “Ngoni has dreams of playing basketball one day.” She smiled. “He hasn’t figured out that his height puts him at a distinct disadvantage. He just wants a better life for himself and his family.”

  “And your friend from the van and the zoo?”

  “Ngoni’s older brother, Mandla. Definitely not my friend.” Her response was laced with disgust. “He enjoys the money that poaching brings in a little too much.”

  “And he doesn’t want you or his little brother messing that up.” Adam blew out a breath. “Would Ngoni’s own brother hurt him?”

  Josslyn gnawed at her lower lip. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I hate to think that we put him in this position. It has to mean something that Mandla brought Ngoni with him, right?”

  That look was back in her eyes. Adam suspected she tried very hard not to let anyone get a glimpse of her vulnerability. Especially not him.

  “Unless Ngoni is being used as a pawn,” Adam responded. “And Mandla can only save him by eliminating you.”

  Adam was being deliberately cruel for even saying the words out loud in front of her. But she needed to know her willy-nilly actions had consequences.

  So why did he suddenly feel like such an ass?