White Diamonds (Capitol Chronicles Book 2)

by Shirley Hailstock

  He went toward her. She made no move, no indication that she was aware of his presence, until she spoke.

  "We aren't going to the White House, are we?" She'd been quiet for most of the drive back to Washington. At the jewelry store she'd said little, other than giving instructions for the setting of the stones. Now, with her vision trained on the White House, she spoke quietly, but Wyatt knew she was as alert as a spy stalking his prey.

  "Not yet," he answered. He turned, following her gaze. Across the street he could see the guards at the Pennsylvania Avenue gate. The gate was closed. No cars, not even authorized visitors, could check in at that point. Yet, the guards maintained their posts. Wyatt wondered if anyone ever walked through those gates. "I know what President Horton said sounds right," he began. "But I have a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach that turning these stones over will mean I'll be the one dropping the next atomic bomb, and I don't want that recorded as my history."

  Sandra turned to him and smiled. Wyatt joined her, lifting his hand to run his knuckles down her cheek. She caught and held it close to her face. Her eyes were sad as if she'd been struggling with a problem and was unable to find a viable solution. Wyatt pulled her close and let his arms circle her.

  "What do you plan to do?" she asked against his chest.

  "We're going to do exactly what Horton suggested doing. We're going to activate Project Eagle and let the eagle fly."

  ***

  Sandra turned her head, watching the light dance off the earrings that glittered in her ears. She fingered the chain around her neck which held the large stones, including the fifteenth stone. It had been Brooke's idea that the best way to keep the stones in order was to set them. She'd even recommended the jeweler. Sandra couldn't have asked for a better looking fake.

  Of course, the idea of wearing a bomb around her neck took some of the glitter away from the stones, but she loved the feel of them as they brushed her skin. Wyatt had explained his plan on the walk back to the jeweler's. She admitted it was dangerous, but with a little luck they just might pull it off.

  "They're beautiful pieces," the jeweler said. His name was Greg, and Brooke had told her he and Grant had known each other for years. "Few people would even be able to tell the stones weren't real diamonds."

  Sandra nodded. She remembered when she'd first seen them, tumbling about on the floor of her mother's examining room. They were covered in Wyatt’s blood and had none of the brilliance they now possessed.

  Suddenly, she had an idea. Turning away from the minor, she asked, "Do you think you could make a duplicate of these?"

  "I could duplicate the stones, but certainly not the cargo," he said.

  Brooke had sworn he was trustworthy. "I'd like a matching set, and I need it flawed. To the naked eye I want people to think there's something inside."

  "Why?" he asked. "Most women want perfect fakes."

  She reached up, removed the earrings and unhooked the precious stone hanging around her neck. Staring at them, she said, "I need them for a very specific purpose."

  He hunched his shoulders as if he realized she wouldn't tell him the real reason. "They'll be ready by this time tomorrow."

  "I appreciate your help."

  Sandra and Wyatt left the jewelry store and went to Sandra's sister's hotel. She knew Annie wasn't going to take kindly to finding her on her doorstep again, but in order for Wyatt’s plan to work, they needed to find out who had the most to gam from getting the stones.

  Using the same cautionary moves they'd employed before, they avoided the men watching the place and got inside. Taking a deep breath, Sandra knocked on the door. Annie opened it a moment later. She was dressed in a Japanese kimono. Her face had been completely made over with pasty white makeup that completely covered her dark skin. Black eyebrow pencil defined her eyebrows and her lips were unnaturally red. Her wig was jet black and on her head was an ancient Japanese headdress.

  Sandra knew she hated the white makeup. One Halloween when they were planning to be clowns Annie had suddenly bolted when it was time to smear her face with the white color.

  Sandra was surprised to find her still in costume. At six feet tall her height should have made her look silly in the outfit, but Annie's carriage was too good, too professional to make her look anything but wonderful.

  "What is this, a convention?" she cried when she saw the two of them. Sandra and Wyatt filed into the room.

  "You'll excuse us, Senator," she said, as she pulled Sandra into the bedroom and closed the door.

  "Why are you here, again?" she asked. Annie pulled the wig and headdress off in one movement. She sat them on the dresser with all the care of broken glass.

  "Annie, I need your help."

  She opened a jar of cold cream and slammed the top on the dresser. "You know." She wagged her finger in front of Sandra's face. "I am not the Salvation Army. Why do you keep coming here? What do you want from me?"

  Something had happened and happened recently. Sandra wondered what. Annie was angry with her. She wasn't just taking her anger out on her. She'd shown up at the wrong moment, and whatever set Annie off had a direct connection.

  Annie soaped her face with the cream. She was using way too much but Sandra didn't think this was the time to tell her.

  "Annie, sit down," she said, as gently as she could.

  Annie glared at her. Her eyes filled with unshed tears. Finally, she sat on the makeup bench. Sandra pulled a tissue from the box and began removing the white makeup from her sister's face. She didn't talk to her, didn't ask what was wrong. She knew her sister wouldn't tell her even if she wanted to. But at this moment Annie needed someone. All her life she'd tried to prove how much she didn't need anyone, but Sandra knew better. She found out when she met Wyatt how much people needed each other.

  Sandra wondered where Jordon was. He was in love with her sister. Could he be the problem? Was Annie fighting the fact that she was in love with him, that he was the one man she really needed and wanted, but had she sworn she would never allow any weakness—including love—make her subservient? Didn't she know that in love there was no subservience? That in love there was a combined strength that made each partner stronger for having the support and trust of the other. Could Annie trust Jordon?

  Sandra got most of the makeup off Suzanne's face. She went into the bathroom for a wet cloth. As she cleaned the cream from her face and hair and applied a light moisturizer she asked, "Where's Jordon?"

  "I don't know."

  "Did you have a late shoot?"

  Annie nodded and closed her eyes. Sandra hadn't done her sister’s makeup for years. She didn't want to destroy the moment of sisterhood that existed, but she knew it wouldn't last.

  "Are the tears for him?"

  Annie abruptly turned away. "I wasn't crying, and if I were I wouldn't do it over a man." She rubbed the cream into her skin a little harder than necessary.

  "He might be worth it, Annie. I think he's in love with you."

  "What would you know about it?"

  "Not a lot, I admit. But I have eyes and I can see the way he looks at you. If you can't see it, you must be blind."

  Annie didn't answer. She went on with her face. Holding a brown eyebrow pencil she enhanced eyebrows that were already perfect.

  "Are you blocking his advances, Annie?"

  She threw the pencil down and turned to her sister. Sandra took an involuntary step back. "What business is it of yours?"

  "None," she said. "You've always told me how you didn't need anyone. How you'd never be like me, never be dependent on anyone. But love isn't like that, Annie. Love can provide mutual strength rather than a giving up of control."

  "Is that what you came here to tell me?"

  "No."

  "Then stay out of my personal life. It's none of your business. I don't need or want your help or advice."

  Sandra knew the subject was closed. She turned around and crossed the room, giving Annie space and herself a moment to let her hear
t rebound from the sting of her sister's words.

  "Annie, you might not need my help, but I need yours."

  She grunted more than laughed as she used the foam applicator to apply a gold tone to her eyelids. Staring at her through the mirror, she asked, "What makes you think I'll help you . . . again."

  Sandra met her gaze in the mirror. "I can't possibly explain the importance of what is going on, but believe me, what we're dealing with has life and death hanging in the balance."

  Annie stopped and stared directly at her. Then she rolled her eyes. "Sandra, you're being melodramatic."

  "I'm not prone to melodrama or exaggeration and you know it. I promise you this is the truth."

  "All right," she agreed. "You don't know how to lie, either, so there must be at least an element of truth in the statement. "If I do what you want, will you get out of here and never come back?"

  Sandra's head snapped up and she stared at her sister. "Annie, you can't mean that; never come back? You're not just talking about here." She pointed to the room. "You mean wherever you are?"

  "I don't want to see you again." She spoke distinctly as if she were speaking to a child.

  Tears clouded Sandra's eyes and she turned away. In the few years since she and Annie had been estranged she always thought they would get over their problem. They would need each other, remember they were family and want to spend time together. She'd never known how deep Annie's hate for her was.

  Brushing the tears away with the back of her hand, she turned back to face her sister and nodded. If Annie hated her the much, Sandra wouldn't impose on her. Annie’s words had cut deep, but she'd survive them. She wanted a relationship with her sister. She wanted a solution to the problem Annie had, but it seemed now that she'd lose her sister forever.

  "All right, what do you want me to do?"

  "I need you to use your knowledge of banking to find out if any of these people have money problems or if they have huge bank accounts." Sandra opened her purse and handed her the list she'd written. "Anything you can find out about them will be helpful."

  Annie's eyes widened in surprise. She looked up at Sandra. "You have lost your mind. Do you know what I'm going to have to do to get information on these people?"

  Sandra hadn't a clue. She knew it wasn't going to be easy, but she also knew her sister was one of the few people who could get the data and get it fast.

  Annie sighed. "When do you need it?"

  "As fast as possible. Tomorrow, if we can have it."

  Annie gave her a long and thorough going-over. Sandra felt as if she'd been put under a microscope.

  She dropped the list on the dresser next to her case of mahogany powder and went back to making up her face.

  Sandra wondered if she'd been dismissed. She felt as if she had. Turning around, she went to the door and took one last look at her sister. With her hand on the doorknob, she turned back.

  "Annie." She waited for her sister to look at her. "Since you don't want to see me again, would you tell me what it was I did that made you hate me so?"

  Annie stood up. Wearing the kimono and her own makeup, she looked ridiculously out of place. "Ask your father," she replied.

  ***

  Wyatt read the invitation to an embassy party from the Imperial Republic of Japan that lay open on the table next to the sofa where he sat. The moment Sandra came through the bedroom door he could see she was shaken. He'd determined the two sisters weren't the best of friends when he was here before, but this time Sandra looked pale, as if she'd just received the news someone had died.

  He got up and went to her. She stared blankly in front of her, but lifted her head to his face as he approached. He took her shoulders and pulled her close. A moment later, he raised her chin to look into her eyes.

  "Oh, Wyatt!" she wailed as she burst into tears.

  Wyatt gathered her close and held her. Her arms climbed around his neck and she squeezed as tight as she could. Tears racked her body with a thundering intensity.

  Anger walled up inside him like a raging bull. He didn’t want her to cry. What had her sister said?

  "Sandra, honey. It's all right. If she won't help us, we'll find someone who will. Stop crying."

  She hiccupped trying to get control, but fresh tears replaced the ones he tried to wipe away.

  "Sandra, what did she say to make you cry like this?"

  When she didn't answer, Wyatt pushed her aside and started for the bedroom door. He'd tear her sister limb from limb for making Sandra cry. She'd only asked a simple question. She could have said she wouldn't do it and let it be. But she'd done more. Sandra wouldn't cry like this if she hadn't. “No!" Sandra held on to his jacket as he tried to move. "Let’s get out of here."

  Only the pleading in her eyes made him forget her sister and take her around the waist and steer her out the door. By the time they'd reached the car in the garage the last remnants of tears tracked down her face like rutted tires.

  Wyatt opened the door and helped her inside. He went around the hood and opened the driver’ door. The interior light came on and went off as he got inside.

  "What happened in there?"

  She told him Annie's harsh words; her condition for helping them. Sandra sniffed, fighting a new batch of tears.

  "What happened to make her dislike you?"

  "I don't know. Whatever it was, it happened just before I got married." She staved off an emotional outburst and continued. "We grew up together, were the best of friends until I married John. I can't remember precisely when it started, but I know it was about that time. I couldn't figure out what I'd done, but suddenly Annie and I were arguing all the time. She was arguing with everyone, except Mother. For a while I thought it was John. That somehow Annie had a thing for him, that she was jealous, but that wasn't it. Then I thought she was upset that we would no longer have the relationship we'd had in the past, but when I tried to talk to her she shut me out."

  "What happened then," Wyatt asked.

  "Annie took off for New York and later Europe. She didn't come to the wedding, and since then has refused to see any of us. She doesn't attend any family functions and she hates us."

  Her tears started anew and Wyatt pulled her to him and held her. It was all he had the strength to do. He wanted to comfort her, but she'd kicked him in the stomach. He took deep breaths trying to control the shudders that ran through him as Sandra's shoulders rose and fell with her tears.

  She's married. She has a husband. The words rang in his head like the sound of a tinny piano in a lonely wooden-floored bar. Why hadn't she told him? He'd fallen in love with a married woman. Where was her husband? Why was there no mention of him?

  "Sandra." Her name came out a strangled whisper, passing over the lump that clogged his throat. "You never mentioned you were married."

  Chapter 19

  Sandra explained everything to Wyatt during the drive to meet Sam Parker. She told him how she'd met John in college and dated him. After graduation, John had taken a job in Europe and stayed there for years. When he returned, they met again at a Christmas party given by a mutual friend. They fell in love and married. She told him about their attempts to have children, John's leukemia, and his subsequent death.

  Wyatt drove without speaking. He listened to Sandra. She spoke nervously, but continued in detail. She felt as if she had to explain. He'd made her feel like that. He shouldn't have, but he didn't stop her. He wanted to know about her life. He wanted to know everything from the moment she took her first breath to the next one she was about to take.

  They'd been constantly together, but in that time they'd been trying to save each other's lives. Little things like family and husbands didn't seem to come up in the discussion.

  "I've never been married," Wyatt said when she lapsed into silence. "I have been in love. Her name was April. We met during a lawyers' conference in Dallas. She was a lot like you, intelligent and beautiful."

  He stole a glance at her hoping for a smile. Her fac
e remained interested but aloof.

  "Our courtship was fast and volatile. In less than six weeks I knew I wanted to be with her for the rest of my life. I asked her to marry me."

  Wyatt swallowed, remembering the hurt as if it had happened to another person. He'd thought he was going to feel the until he died, but it was gone.

  "What happened?" Sandra prompted.

  "She was already married."

  He heard the small intake of breath that came from her. For a moment he thought it was happening to him all over again. He didn't know if he could survive if Sandra wasn't his. He wanted her more than he ever wanted April.

  "I'm sorry, Wyatt."

  Irrationally, Sandra hated the woman who had hurt Wyatt. She knew there was nothing she could do about it. If he hadn't left her, he might not be with her today, and despite their difficulties, she wouldn't give up even one day with him.

  When they reached the place where they'd agreed to meet Sam, Wyatt got out of the car and came around to her side. Helping her out, he took her in his arms and kissed her. Sandra wrapped her arms around him. The kiss was so tender and sweet, it nearly brought more tears to her eyes. Wyatt’ tenderness made her melt in his arms as his kiss deepened. She clung to him, returning the passion he produced in her kind for kind.

  She never wanted to let him go, never wanted him to hurt or feel that there was anything the two of them couldn't work out. She was free. He was free. And she was in love with him. She told him so with her mouth, her body, her hands. She branded his mouth with her love, with a promise that was as binding as it was blinding. When they pulled apart, she slumped against him, wondering how she'd managed to live before she met him.

  Her love for John was safe and warm and in a special compartment of her heart. She wouldn't forget their time together or wish it had never happened. Wyatt wouldn't want her to. She discovered she had a heart large enough for both John and Wyatt.