Lost in Shadows (Lost)

by Anita DeVito

  She shoved the foil into his hand. “Hurry.”

  He grew thicker at the desperation, the command in her voice. He covered himself and pushed up into her. They both cried out with pleasure, with relief. Her face was inches from his as she rode him. The strain that reddened her features had been displaced by the pleasure of loving.

  She was the bravest woman he had ever known. She laughed and teased and loved him even with this attack on her. What would she be like in a normal life? He had no doubt she would be a fierce partner. And Carolina would be a partner. She may be quiet and a little shy, but she wouldn’t be sitting on a rocking chair knitting, letting him make all the calls. She would be a full participant in their life. And he wanted nothing less.

  He gritted his teeth as she set the rhythm, slow and languid, like a saxophone on a sultry summer evening. She swirled her hips and he gripped her butt, holding on for dear life. He didn’t want it to end. Sweat broke out on his brow as he fought the waves crashing over him. She pulled at his hair; the small, biting stings hardened his muscles, tightened his balls. He drove with hard, deep strokes that had them both panting, covered with a healthy sheen of sweat.

  “Oh…God.” She dropped her head back, arching into his strong hands.

  “Now, baby. I need this now.”

  She took the lead, her abdomen convulsing, her body sucking greedily at his. She shouted, digging her fingers into his shoulders, setting him off. His fingers bit into her hips, keeping her in just the right place, open, hot for his invasion. He locked his arms around her lower back, thrusting harder, deeper, until the tension she’d cultivated snapped like a slingshot. His body settled, sated, while his mind drifted into the blind abyss.

  As gone as he was, he felt her muscles tighten around him with every little movement. She nuzzled closer into him, her hair draped over both of them. Her sprawled over his lap had been a fantasy come true and one he didn’t want to end.

  “Jeb?”

  When she didn’t continue, he pried his eyelids open. She sat on his lap, her chin on her chest, looking very serious.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

  His voice cracked when he spoke. “I’ll figure this out, I promise.”

  “We’ll figure this out,” she said sternly.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said to make her laugh, and then kissed her with every ounce of love he felt for her. His cell phone beeped; a text notification. “I better check that.” He felt below her backside for the phone in the pocket of his jeans, copping a very thorough feel along the way. “It’s Butch. Katie wants to know if you’re all right. We better go down before someone comes up looking for us. They’re a nosy bunch.”

  “I think they’re perfect.” She stood slowly, separating their bodies. Their clothes were flung to the corners of the room. They brushed each other in teasing caresses as they dressed. She giggled when he helped her back into the bra. “It’s never taken me five minutes to put on a bra.”

  His hands were still filled with her soft breasts. “Then I’d have to say you weren’t doing it right.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Carolina and Jeb had interviewed Nick Mayer via conference call in the morning. She was glad to talk with the man she once had considered a mentor. Time and distance had a way of cooling friendships, but they had remained colleagues. They had provided minimal information while fishing for headlines. She breathed a sigh of relief when Jeb crossed his name from the list.

  The second man, Jeremy Miller, was out of the country and unreachable according to his wife. They had to wait for his return in two days.

  Carolina left a message for the third man, and his secretary had returned the call saying Reverend Millstone was occupied but he could meet her for lunch. In Atlanta. Today only. Jeb nodded and she accepted the invitation. A scholar and a minister, Millstone was an invited speaker at a national conference for state governors, yet he made time for his key researcher in the middle of a full and important day. All she had to do was get there. Chameleon’s plane was at the county airport. With a phone call, their ride was fueled and ready to fly.

  Hours later, she walked into the restaurant on Jeb’s arm, flanked by his associate, John Beck. Beck had arrived sometime last night, likely in the plane they had just taken, and had since been Jeb’s shadow. He looked the enforcer with his large frame, thick strawberry blond hair, and glacial blue eyes. Like Jeb, he spoke quietly, using few words to convey commands and expectations.

  She held her breath as they followed the maître d’ across the elegant room with its spacious arrangement of white clothed tables to a secluded corner. She instantly recognized Millstone despite the fact they had never met in person. He lived up to his image—a robust man with a full laugh and a fast smile. He wore his thick silver hair swept back from a face long tanned by the Texas sun. To her surprise, recognition flashed in his eyes as he rose to his feet.

  “Caro! How wonderful to finally meet. You are even lovelier than I had imagined.” He moved past her outreached hand and embraced her.

  She forced a smile as she blinked through the surprise of the more intimate greeting. She thought he considered her an intellectual nemesis, never suspecting he considered her a friend. “I know you have more interesting things to set your mind to than imagining what I look like. You could have found one of my old bio photos on the internet.”

  With a hearty laugh, Millstone sat. “Bahh. I hired you based on your reputation. I kept working with you because of your tenacity and ability to ferret out details. Frankly, I was surprised to find you a worthwhile sparring partner and wasn’t going to ruin my own delusions by surfing the web for a picture. I knew everything I needed to know. Now, it’s not often that an old man is invited to dine with such a talented woman and even rarer when she shows up with two bodyguards. So, Caro, what are we to discuss?”

  “Millstone, this is Jeb McCormick and John Beck. I’m having some trouble. Last Thursday, my home was broken into.”

  He gasped and laid a comforting hand on her arm. “Dear girl. Were you hurt?”

  “Not that time, but they took three of my contract files. Yours was one. Then on Saturday, shortly after I realized what was missing, they came back. They stole my computer with all of my files. They burned my house.”

  “They hurt you?”

  She nodded, and lifted her hair to show the colorful bruises peeping out from behind the silky veil. The light brown eyes that had shined warmly on her now sparked hellfire at Jeb and Beck. “Where were you two when Caro was hurt?”

  Jeb snarled and began to defend himself. “The fault lies—”

  “With the ones who attacked me.” She took Jeb’s hand, stroking to soothe the sting she saw, drawing on his strength. “The ones who stole what belonged to both of us. I’m sure I have no idea of all the ways people could discredit you using the work.”

  Millstone leaned back when the waiter approached. The table was somber. The gentlemen ordered quickly and efficiently, wanting the waiter gone.

  “For you, ma’am?”

  Nothing on the thick menu appealed to her, and she considered passing on the meal altogether.

  Jeb took her hand, rubbed the inside of her wrist. “Maybe something light? Soup or a salad?”

  “The tomato bisque,” she said to the waiter. “With the small house salad.” With a nod, the waiter collected the menus and disappeared again.

  “Is all of the information lost to us?” Millstone asked.

  “We didn’t lose anything. I use a cloud service for storage.”

  “Send me my files. I’ll get them to my publicist. We’ll be ready for any pressure.”

  Jeb cleared his throat. “If you are contacted, we’d like to know. We’re tracking them down. This is Thomas Cooper and James Hooker. Have you ever seen them before?” He slid the photos across the table.

  “Yes, yes, I have, although those were not the names they were using at the time. You have made some very dangerous enemies, Caro. Very
dangerous.”

  Jeb leaned forward. “How do you know them?”

  “Suffice it to say that I meet a great number of unsavory people in my position. These two were even more unsavory than most. As you would expect, they have both done time for minor but violent crimes.”

  “I have their files,” Jeb said. “They are low to mid-level muscle without the intellect to be the boss. We know there was a third man in Carolina’s house. We have his DNA, but there is no match in the system.”

  “A clean man. That is a rare thing these days.” Millstone quieted again as the waiter returned with drinks and bread. “The man you want to talk to is Lincoln Kennedy.”

  She gasped. “He was in my home?” Her hand clutched Jeb’s. A man like Lincoln Kennedy shouldn’t know she existed, let alone be in her house.

  “I have no idea if he was in your home, Caro. But if these two men were involved, Lincoln Kennedy knew about it.”

  “Who is Lincoln Kennedy?” Jeb asked impatiently.

  Carolina squeezed his hand. “Chief of staff for Randolph Edgerton, governor of Florida.”

  “Presidential hopeful for the Democratic nomination,” Millstone added. “He’s scheduled to be here for the conference. I believe he is the keynote speaker at tomorrow night’s dinner. I’m sure Mr. Kennedy won’t be far behind.”

  She shifted in her chair, unable to stay still. Her mind was as unsettled as her body. “Jeb, we need to call Jeremy Miller’s wife back. She could be the next target.”

  He patted her hand for comfort. “You’re jumping to conclusions, Carolina. Tell us about Miller.”

  “He is a new client. A referral from my old editor at the Washington Post. He hired me to perform contract searches related to land deals in Florida. Mr. Miller suspected Governor Edgerton had made a number of land deals with big businesses that exploited Florida’s resources and benefitted the governor’s election campaign. From what I understand, Mr. Miller had developed a reputation with the governor’s office and was being kept at arm’s length. He hired me to work around the system.

  “I pieced together articles in small town papers, reports by bloggers, real estate transactions, and corporate filings to paint a picture that was much larger than the one Miller originally painted. Through certain members of the legislature, this business interest was able to introduce and pass rules that increased their ability to acquire land, even occupied land, with little due process and nearly no compensation. The documents identified several men as party to the agreements. None of them exist. They are phantoms—names with social security numbers but no work history or income tax history. Prior to becoming Governor Edgerton’s chief of staff, Lincoln Kennedy was an investment banker and financial planner.”

  Millstone belted out a raucous laugh. “From a Democrat? I would have expected sex tapes and marijuana. Embezzlement and land swindles are more of a Republican proclivity.” He leaned over the succulent plate of chicken cordon bleu. “Did you follow the money, Caro?”

  “I did. They were clever. The money was diversified quickly. Nothing went directly into Edgerton’s campaign accounts, of course. Someone was very careful to ensure the amounts were not identical, not too much, not too noticeable. Any transaction over ten thousand had the proper bank reports filed. There were many under the threshold but nothing that appeared obvious or systemic.”

  “Why does it matter if it is over ten thousand dollars?” Jeb asked.

  “Federal regulations require banks to file reports for transactions of ten thousand dollars or more. A separate regulation makes it illegal to divide transactions for the purpose of avoiding the reporting. I read that the laws were enacted to combat money laundering.”

  Jeb cut into his prime rib. “You really didn’t have hard proof then. It sounds like circumstantial evidence.”

  She shook her head emphatically. “Mr. Miller did not have hard proof. I was just his research assistant.”

  “With what you found, Edgerton would have some very difficult questions to answer.” Millstone’s thick eyebrows twitched. “Possibly enough for a grand jury. Definitely enough for a scandal.”

  Jeb turned to Millstone. “Is Kennedy the kind of man who would kill to prevent a scandal?”

  “This is politics, Mr. McCormick. Kennedy’s current priorities are the promotion of the man he represents to the presidency with himself as chief of staff. Naturally, that priority requires avoiding nonproductive scandals.”

  Jeb sipped cold water from the crystal glass, taking his time in collecting his thoughts. “How far would Edgerton be involved?”

  Millstone leaned back, fork and knife fisted in each hand. “That’s a hard question to answer. I can’t see Edgerton being unaware of such a potentially explosive issue in his own camp. Yet, I also would not assume that he would get mired down in the details of how Kennedy cleaned up a mess. I suspect that Kennedy was the mastermind behind the original scheme and Edgerton willingly ignorant.”

  “I need to talk to him.”

  “It just so happens that a few of my guests had to decline my invitation for tomorrow night’s dinner. Would you care to join me? It is a black-tie affair. I’ll warn you, you’ll need more than sharp knives if you’re going to protect Caro. Edgerton and Kennedy aren’t easily intimidated by muscle. You’ll need to be subtle, more sophisticated.”

  Jeb nodded. “Subtle and sophisticated. Got it. There’ll be four of us.”

  “Fine. Fine. Enough of this. Caro, tell me what you think about the role homosexuals play in the decline of American morals.”

  Carolina sat taller, her chest rising with indignation. “You are assuming that there has been a decline in American morals. It has been statistically shown that every generation feels the modern time is less moral than that of their parents or grandparents, but, no matter how you define it, it’s not true.”

  The two of them volleyed the rhetorical ball back and forth for nearly an hour. It wasn’t until Millstone’s phone prompted him for his next appointment that the bill was settled and the group made their way to the front door.

  Millstone faced Carolina in the foyer while his driver pulled around. He rested his hands on her shoulders and suddenly looked very serious. “Now remember, Caro, when you’re sitting at my table tomorrow, you need to support all my positions.”

  She faltered, tripping over the air. They needed the meeting with Kennedy, but could she really support his positions? Even if it was only an act?

  Millstone saw the shocked horror register in her eyes and barked out in laughter. “I knew I could get you! I like you just the way you are, Caro, even if you are a social liberal.”

  “At least I’m a fiscal conservative. We agree on a few things.” She let him pull her in for a hug. “Thank you for the invitation. We’ll try to keep you out of this.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Caro. Don’t you worry about me. I enjoy stirring the pot.” A large sedan pulled up and the valet opened the door. Millstone stepped to the car, pausing to turn a cold gaze over his shoulder. “Mr. McCormick, Mr. Beck. I expect you to take better care of our lady.”

  The door closed, the spit-shined black machine pulled away, and the valet delivered a dust-colored box on wheels. Beck took the keys and, with a distasteful sneer, the wheel. Jeb rode shotgun with the actual shotgun and other weapons in the back seat with Carolina.

  “He wasn’t an asshole,” Jeb said as they pulled away from the curb. “You said he was an asshole.”

  “I did not! I never use that word and would certainly never call Millstone that.”

  “Okay. Maybe you didn’t use that word, but I certainly got the impression that’s what you thought of him.”

  She frowned at him. “I said he drives me crazy with his double standards and he does. He picks arguments with me on purpose.”

  He twisted around until he could see her face. “You did rise to the occasion quickly. I was impressed with the way you could site facts and figures from the Farmer’s Almanac to the journal Science. Y
ou two lost me a few times.”

  “He uses you like a test market,” Beck said. “You vet the theories, find the holes, and challenge him to make it work.”

  She bit her lip. “He’s not using me.”

  “Does he pay you for your time?” Jeb asked.

  “Yes. He’s one of my best clients.”

  He snorted. “Best clients. Is that why he calls you ‘Caro’?”

  Carolina smiled at the green aura surrounding Jeb. She’d never had someone be jealous before. She bit her lip to hide her pleasure. “It’s just a nickname. When he argues with me, it takes too much time to call me by my name, so he shortened it to Caro. I told him if he just agreed with me, he’d have plenty of time to say my whole name. I shouldn’t complain. I call him ‘Millstone’ for the same reason. Try arguing women’s reproductive rights with a Reverend.”

  Jeb’s frown deepened. “I don’t care about his name. I like yours. Your whole name, and nobody but me should be giving you nicknames.”

  “Jeb,” Beck said. “We’ve got company.”

  She twisted around in her seat to look out the rear window. Traffic. That’s all she saw. The wide highway allowed the light traffic plenty of room to maneuver at full speed. “I don’t see anyone.”

  “The black SUV,” Jeb said, picking out the tail the same as Beck had. “A few cars back.”

  She wrinkled her nose. There were three black SUVs, a few silver trucks, and a sprinkling of colored autos close enough to read the license plates. No one crept up on their bumper. Nobody dodged or weaved to get closer. Nobody looked like they were doing anything but minding their own business.

  Jeb leaned into the back seat and tugged open the zipper on the long black gym bag tucked onto the floor behind the driver. With swift, efficient movements, he pulled out several guns and boxes of ammunition.