She was grateful for the arm Adam snaked around her waist, drawing her in closer because her hand was twitching to slap the Undersecretary of State for Africa. While it might not be cause for a military rescue, it would be another scandal to add to her long list of previous embarrassments.
“Since you’re no longer under White House arrest”—Christian was the only one to laugh at his pun—“I will expect you at the Elephant Trails on Saturday evening for Boo at the Zoo. I’ve lined up several corporate representatives the State Department would like to get involved in helping with Africa’s infrastructure. My wife has another commitment that evening and she won’t be accompanying me. But, I’m sure my guests would enjoy a few fun facts about the elephants from the president’s sister-in-law.”
Josslyn opened her mouth before thinking better of it and quickly closing it again. Christian wasn’t going to give her orders. But if she could do something to help the elephants and the natives, she would. Even it meant kowtowing to the little monster.
Fortunately, a passerby called out to Christian and he was off without another word.
“Asshole,” Adam muttered. “Remind me not to sit too close to him or he might find himself falling off the balcony.”
Josslyn relaxed into his embrace. “Not if I push him first.”
They shared a knowing smile for a long moment before they were brought back to reality by the chimes announcing the show was about to begin. Adam indicated she should precede him up the stairs to the commander in chief’s private entrance to the balcony.
“Doolittle to the owner’s box,” she heard him murmur.
She eyed him sharply. He wasn’t wearing his comm device in his ear in order to maintain his role as her date.
“Talking to yourself again?”
He took her elbow and guided her down the narrow hallway. “Nope. Just keeping Ben apprised of our location.”
“Ben is here?” An unsettling feeling danced up her spine as she realized he’d been talking to someone named Ben the other night when they were in the China Room at the White House.
“Nope. He’s in his lab. But he’s got eyes on all the entrances and exits.”
“Do those eyes extend to the White House, too?”
“Of course,” he responded.
“All the rooms?”
A slow, taunting grin spread over his face. “What do you think?”
Her cheeks burned. “Tell me this Ben guy isn’t some perv watching me shower?” she managed to choke out.
“Well, he is a bit of—” Adam winced as he cupped a hand over his ear. “Okay! The guy’s a freaking Boy Scout. He’d like you to know he’d never invade your privacy like that.”
“Oh, I’m just supposed to take your word?”
“The cameras in your bedroom turn off when you enter. The rooms are monitored using body heat sensors to detect when an unauthorized person enters the room while you’re in it.” He winced again. “Stop that. I’ll tell her. Ben said you’re welcome to come see the CCTV center for yourself if that will make you more comfortable.”
While not completely mollified, Josslyn did feel a sense of relief. Adam had never lied to her before. Nor had he taken advantage of any situation involving her, in spite of her insistence that he should. Ben sounded like he might be another one of the good guys. Still, she’d be dressing in the dark for the duration of her stay.
With a nod to the marine guard, they were admitted into the anteroom at the back of the box. Two waiters stood at the ready. Christian ushered in a group of dignitaries and lobbyists, introducing them to Josslyn almost as an afterthought. Most had ties to Africa in one way or another. She was disappointed that none of those interests were in conservation and animal preservation, however. Josslyn made a mental note to discuss this with her brother-in-law when he returned. She doubted any of the men present would take her views on the issues seriously. One of the wives of a lobbyist for a tractor company began to chat Josslyn up, gushing profusely about her dress. Josslyn was certain that, seconds after the curtain rose, the woman would be texting the Reliable Source at The Washington Post to rat her out for wearing the same gown more than once. If Josslyn needed an excuse to hate politics, she was living it.
The lights in the ornate Lobmeyr crystal chandelier overhead flickered and the guests in the box milled around anxiously. Adam leaned in. Her good parts did another somersault when his breath fanned her ear.
“As the only member of the First Family in attendance, you get to select your seat first.”
She couldn’t help the triumphant smile that formed on her lips. “Touché for me.”
Settling into the center seat, she patted the chair beside her for Adam. Christian took the one on her other side.
“Won’t your wife be joining us?” she taunted him. According to the little bit of Washington gossip, she’d listened to, Christian and his new bride were rarely seen together in public.
“She is stuck in a business meeting,” he responded crisply. “She’ll be here by the second act.”
The curtain came up and the orchestra burst into a loud concerto, preventing any further conversation. Josslyn’s mother had been a huge fan of music—all types, including opera. She had passed that love on to her daughter. In her frequent travels around Africa, Josslyn was always enthralled by the role music played within the various native tribes. That shared enjoyment helped her to bond with so many of the people she encountered.
Relaxing into her seat, she tried to let the music of Aida wash over her, hoping the power of the score would settle her nerves. It didn’t work. The story of an Ethiopian princess enslaved by Egyptians didn’t seem to be holding Christian’s attention, either. The glare of his cell phone screen caught her attention several times during the first act. He was texting someone fast and furiously. She suspected it might be his absent wife, but she couldn’t make out the words on the screen without being obvious.
Could he be texting Tseng?
If Tseng was attending the opera, he hadn’t been invited to sit in the presidential box. Josslyn wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved. Maybe her hunch was way off. Somehow, she didn’t think so. She’d need to sit tight and wait to see how the rest of the evening played out. With luck, it wouldn’t end as tragically as the opera.
She glanced over at Adam. His expressionless gaze was directed at the stage. She couldn’t tell if he was enthralled or asleep with his eyes open. Almost as if he was aware of being watched, the corners of his mouth turned up in a sexy grin. He leaned over to whisper in her ear.
“Bored already?”
Josslyn snapped her attention back to the stage. She was bored. But he didn’t have to know that.
When the lights came up for intermission, Christian sprang from his seat like a jack-in-the-box. “There are refreshments being served in the African Room.” He indicated the exit. “Please, join me.”
Josslyn rather thought the whole point of being in the presidential box was to enjoy the lavish spread provided during intermission rather than having to navigate through the crowd to get to another room within the building. Christian was very definitely up to something. She bit back a grin at the realization that she’d been right all along. Hiking up her skirt, she moved to quickly follow the other guests. The sudden sensation of Adam’s warm fingers wrapped around her bare arm stopped her in her tracks. But when she whirled around to face him, the sight of his pained expression kept her angry rebuke from leaving her mouth. Guilt stabbed her in the chest. When she’d dragged him into this, she’d never considered the effects of the music and lights on his lingering concussion.
She instinctively lifted her fingers to brush them along the hollow of his cheek. “You can’t be enjoying this,” she whispered.
He placed his palm over hers still resting against his skin. They stood that way for several long heartbeats, his eyes searching hers. “It just got a whole lot better.”
The urge to kiss him right there on the balcony of the Kennedy Cen
ter Opera House, in full view of dozens of prying eyes—not to mention cell phone cameras—was strong. But she resisted. For his sake as much as her own. Adam was only doing his job. Sure, he was posing as her date tonight, and as much as Josslyn wanted to explore more with this man, it would be unfair to force him into a relationship via the tabloids.
She lifted fingers from his cheek. Adam intertwined them with his. She told herself it was because he wanted to continue the contact and not that he feared she’d take off after Christian.
“I take it you’re not a fan of the opera,” she said as they made their way into the anteroom.
“My tastes run more toward country-western music. At least that’s in English.”
His answer made her grin foolishly. “Well, I’m sure there are those who might argue that point.”
The smile he gave her made her breath hitch.
“But,” she said, “if we’re being honest, I prefer the Grand Old Opry to this any day.”
“And yet, here we are hanging out with an obnoxious twit you don’t like, surrounded by a bunch of politicos who make you feel uncomfortable, while watching singers bellow and moan in Italian. All on the off chance Tseng would be here. Except he isn’t.” He tugged her closer to him. “What gives, Joss?”
She hated how much her body melted every time he called her by her childhood nickname. And she hated how perceptive he was. But she loved the feel of his body against hers. She leaned closer so she could toy with the buttons on his shirt.
“We don’t know Tseng isn’t here. For all we know, he might be at the reception in the African Room.”
Adam lifted her chin with his fingers. Bottle-green eyes peered into hers. It took some effort to keep her knees from buckling, but she managed to meet his gaze head-on without blinking. He swore beneath his breath.
“Remind me never to play chicken with you,” he mumbled as he tugged her toward the stairs leading to the Grand Foyer.
She could think of any number of games she’d like to play with Special Agent Adam Lockett, but since he was going along with her plan, she decided to save that conversation for a later time. Preferably when they were in private.
They were quickly absorbed into the flow of people seeking refreshments. Adam tightened his hold on her as they made their way to the Hall of States corridor where the African Room was located. A crowd jammed the doorway but she could just make out Christian’s voice rising among those guests in the room.
Despite her three-inch heels, Josslyn’s view into the interior of the suite was blocked. “Is Tseng in there?” she asked Adam.
“Not that I can tell.” He squeezed her hand. “But that doesn’t mean anything. Cameras, Ben?”
Now why hadn’t she thought of that? She looked up at Adam expectantly. A few anxious minutes later he shook his head. Disappointment weighed her shoulders down. The crowd surged around them when the chimes indicated the second act was about to begin.
Josslyn’s heart wasn’t into watching the second half of the opera. Nor did she want to subject Adam’s tender head to any more than was necessary. She tugged him over against the wall out of the way of the wave of operagoers.
“We don’t have to stay. I’d rather go home now,” she announced when the crowd had thinned.
“Are you sure?” he surprised her by asking. “Just because Tseng wasn’t in there doesn’t mean he’s not here.”
“If he were here, he would have been in that room.” At least that was what her gut was telling her. Too bad the Post-it note from Tseng’s desk wasn’t more specific.
“I just need to slip into the ladies’ room before we go.”
Before she’d even finished speaking, Agent Groesch materialized from out of nowhere.
“How do you do that?” Josslyn asked as both ladies entered the restroom. “And where do you hide your gun when you’re wearing an evening gown?”
“In my purse.” Agent Groesch lifted the hem of her evening gown to reveal a smart little pistol holstered at her ankle. “But I always have a spare here no matter what I’m wearing.”
“Good to know.”
“By the way, my sister’s kids are very excited about the Boo at the Zoo this weekend,” Agent Groesch said as they washed their hands. “Thanks so much for offering to get them tickets.”
“My pleasure.” Josslyn sincerely meant it.
While she didn’t necessarily want Secret Service protection, she valued the service the men and women provided to their country. Their families sacrificed a lot. Anything Josslyn could do to reward that service and sacrifice, she did. “How old are her kids?”
The agent never got a chance to answer because suddenly a man wielding a lethal-looking blade was blocking the hallway leading to the Grand Foyer. As Agent Groesch shoved Josslyn behind her, another man appeared from the shadows, wrestling the knife-wielding assailant to the ground. The sound of metal scraping across the marble floor was followed by that of bone meeting bone. An instant later, the hallway was filled with a sea of security officers, led by Adam. It was over almost as quickly as it began.
“Is Doolittle secure?” Adam demanded, his gun poised at the two men being handcuffed.
“Affirmative,” Agent Groesch responded as the security team led the two men away.
Josslyn gasped when she caught sight of the tattoos circling one of the men’s neck. They were the insignia of the Nimba tribe. Adam must have seen it too because he swore violently.
“We’re getting out of here,” Adam announced as he wrapped his fingers around her arm. “Now.”
Josslyn wasn’t going to argue with him. His gun still drawn, he guided her toward the stairs leading to the basement garage. Out of the corner of her eye, Josslyn caught site of the man she’d been looking for slipping into the Asian Lounge directly across from the Africa Room.
“Adam,” she whispered, dragging her feet to a halt. “Tseng is here.”
“I don’t care if Spiderman is here, we’re leaving.”
But Josslyn had already slipped from his hold and was headed to the door of the lounge.
“Damn it, Joss,” Adam hissed, grabbing a firmer hold of her arm.
Before he could drag her off, she managed to push aside the curtain shielding the room’s artifacts from view just in time to see Tseng slip into the arms of a waiting woman. The woman began kissing him passionately. Adam’s breath fanned her neck as they both peered at the couple like two peeping toms. Tseng turned to press the woman up against the wall. Josslyn’s stomach dropped. She had seen the woman before. Six months ago, in fact, when the Asian beauty had been exchanging wedding vows with Christian Sumner.
Chapter Ten
The car was at the stairwell doors when they stepped out into the chilly garage. Adam quickly shoved her inside, his own body following her through the same door. He spent the entire ride on his phone arguing with Agent Shaw while Josslyn wrestled with events of the previous few minutes. They arrived back at the White House ten minutes later.
“Shaw swears no one has left the house Mandla’s brother is hiding out in. Not that I believe him. We need to check the ICE records to see how many members of this tribe are here in the country. And I need to see that video, Ben,” Adam said into the air as he ushered her past the butler and into the Diplomatic Reception Room. “Meet us at the Crown.”
Now that she had a better idea of what—or whom—to look for, Josslyn needed to look at the video, also. “I want to see it, too,” she announced.
She expected Adam to dismiss her request, but he simply nodded, steering her toward the stairs.
“We’ll be on the residence floor, Ben,” he advised his friend.
Terrie, the head housekeeper, greeted them at the top of the main staircase. “I’ll make tea,” she said after quickly sizing up their expressions. “And I’ll bring the Tylenol.”
Josslyn glanced over at Adam. He’d untied his bow tie and tugged open the top button of his shirt. His face was drawn and the dark circles were back beneath his
eyes. She couldn’t regret her doggedness to uncover the animal trafficking ring. And the men and women of the Secret Service would give their lives to protect the president of the United States. But between the concert and the scuffle in the hallway, she worried that perhaps she should be a bit more sensitive to those she dragged into her cause.
Fergus yapped at Adam from his doggie bed in the West Sitting Room. Before Josslyn could shush the animal, Adam was bending down scratching him behind the ear.
“How’s your father?” he surprised her by asking.
She suspected he was trying to distract her. But she appreciated him asking nevertheless.
“Trapped back in his addled mind again,” she replied softly.
As if someone had flicked a light switch, her father had morphed back into the man with no recollection of his second daughter. Rationally, Josslyn knew how the disease progressed. But that didn’t make it hurt less. Not wanting Adam to see the tears threatening in her eyes, she wandered over to the half-moon window overlooking the Eisenhower Executive Office Building. “The odds of him having another good day are slim, but I can always hope.”
“No matter where his mind is, he cares about you.”
Stunned, she stared at his reflection in the window. His attention was still focused on Fergus, who was flipped over on his back while Adam crouched down to rub his belly. Her heart did a little somersault at the scene. Just as she suspected all along, there was a sensitive man behind that sniper’s rifle. She was sure he didn’t show this side of himself to many people. Josslyn felt flattered to have a glimpse at this Adam. Knowing how he grew up, she was even more in awe of his tenderness toward others.
“What about your dad?” The words slipped out unbidden.
She suspected Adam had little contact with the man who’d been so cruel to him all those years ago. But knowing what she now did about his personality, she wondered how much it cost Adam to be estranged from his only living parent.
Shot in the Dark Page 13