"What?" He backed off several inches, giving her a look that showed his concern for her mental stability.
"There might be something wrong with the pork chops." She spoke without analyzing her thoughts. "There had to be a reason he attacked like that. Maybe…" She eyed the food, remembering the way Familiar had attempted to get her attention in the kitchen. And failed. "Let me do this," she said. "Serve some wine or do something to distract the guests." She could feel every eye in the room on her. She was finished, that much she knew. She'd never get another job catering in D.C. As shocked as everyone was now, as soon as they got home they'd be buzzing with the gossip that Lucinda Watts's big dinner had been destroyed by some stupid caterer who'd brought her cat with her. The real facts didn't matter. By breakfast tomorrow, the story would be blown completely out of proportion. The only thing they wouldn't get wrong would be her name, and Lucinda's. Unfortunately, Lucinda would suffer as much public humiliation as Sarah would herself. In the D.C. scheme of things, Lucinda was responsible for hiring incompetent help, a sin almost as deadly as being incompetent.
Sarah bagged the food and hurried from the room. There was nothing to do but pack up her stuff and get out of there as fast as possible.
Daniel met her in the kitchen, and in less than fifteen minutes they'd almost packed the car. "What about dessert?" he asked.
"Leave it. Better yet, put it down the garbage disposal." Sarah had considered serving the remainder of the meal, but she was certain Lucinda wanted her out of the house as rapidly as possible. Besides, she was uncertain about the food, about what might have been done to it. She started shoving the delicate pecan tortes down the disposal. "How's Familiar?"
"Trying like hell to get out of the car," Daniel said. He shook his head. "I have no idea what got into him. He was vicious. So aggressive, I thought he was going to take that waiter down by the throat. And when the poor guy tried to save the platter of food and hand it to one of the guests, Familiar launched himself at the platter."
"Is there any way you could get something analyzed at the lab?"
Daniel thought for a moment he'd misunderstood her question. "You mean, the FBI lab?"
"Right." She stared directly at him. "I don't think anything's wrong with Familiar. I think something is terribly wrong with that food."
Comprehension touched Daniel's face. "He deliberately knocked the food to the floor so that no one would eat it."
"He tried to stop me in the kitchen, but I guess he didn't want to get rough with me." She found, even among the disastrous events, that she could still smile. "He didn't mind getting rough with the waiters."
"They're guys," Daniel said, smiling, also. "They can take it."
"Can you get access to the lab?"
Daniel had wondered how he was going to tell her he wasn't exactly fired. Not exactly, if he understood Paul Gottard's message. He wasn't fired and he wasn't an agent. He was in limbo, tucked away somewhere without any protection, and without any legal privileges. But he might be able to get something through the lab, even though the very thought of Cody Pruett made him feel guilty.
"Maybe. I'm not exactly certain what my status with the Bureau is right now. I'm under suspicion for murder and misuse of my authority. They don't believe I lost my badge and gun, but they aren't willing to arrest me. In fact, I'm still assigned to your case, if you can assign someone who may or may not work for you."
She bit back the harsh criticism that formed on her lips. It wouldn't do Daniel any good now to hear her low opinion of the FBI. Instead she shifted the focus to the immediate problem. "I know there's something wrong with the chops. The question is, how did it happen? The only time I left the kitchen was when I was with you, mingling among the guests."
"And Familiar was there in the kitchen. He would have warned us if anything was amiss."
Sarah's eyes opened wider. "But he was in a closet. He came out acting like he'd been asleep! Lucinda saw him and commented on his presence at her party."
"I'll bet someone pushed him into that closet, maybe even knocked him out."
"And when I came out of the bathroom from changing clothes, Lucinda was at the oven. She'd been stirring something in the pan."
"The pork chop pan?"
Sarah nodded.
"Familiar may have not only saved your career, he could have saved someone's life. Several someones. Grab your coat and let's get out of here. I have a meeting with Paul Gottard I have to make, and I want you with me. It's time he met you for himself."
Sarah swallowed back her instant protest. The idea of meeting the FBI director made her mouth go dry. Gottard had not been in the agency when her father was a sheriff, but that didn't change her opinion of the way the FBI worked. After all, look at what they were doing with Daniel. He didn't have to go into great detail to let her know he'd been left hanging out on a limb, just swinging in whatever breeze happened to blow. She could see the bitter hurt in his eyes. He wasn't fired, but if anything went wrong, the FBI would deny that he worked for them. Great!
"Sarah." Lucinda's voice was like a whip cracking.
Both Sarah and Daniel turned to face her. She stood at the kitchen door with a very anxious Vincent Minton just behind her.
"Lucinda," Vincent said softly, "it was an accident. It was poor judgment to bring the cat, but Sarah would never deliberately create such a mess."
Lucinda shook off his hand. "Where is that animal? I've called my doctor, and he says the cat must be quarantined. They may need brain tissue to determine if he's mad." Her smile was ugly.
"Bad news, Mrs. Watts." Daniel stepped forward. "He escaped from my arms when I was trying to put him in the car. He was so upset. He's around the house somewhere. I tried to catch him, but he's terrified."
"Liar." Lucinda's blue eyes glittered. "I want that animal impounded."
"He's gone." Daniel held his ground. "We'll look for him, and if we do find him, we'll take him to a vet of our choice to make certain he's not ill."
"He was perfectly fine before we got here," Sarah tried to assure her. "I'm positive he isn't sick."
"Get out." Lucinda's voice was icy.
"Now, that's one order we'll very gladly obey," Daniel said. He started to pick up the pans and the plastic bags of pork chops.
"You misunderstood me. I said get out, and I meant now."
Sarah couldn't believe the fury in the woman's voice. She saw Uncle Vince shake his head at her, urging her to comply with Lucinda's order.
"Daniel, leave it," she said. She knew she'd get her gear back later. At the moment she wanted to escape with Familiar before they thought to go out and check the car.
"Right." Daniel eased the pots back onto the stove. With a deft gesture he maneuvered the pork chops into the folds of his coat. "We're out of here." He took Sarah's arm and hustled her out the door. "Don't look back," he warned.
"The pork chops," she moaned.
He patted the coat. "We always get our chop," he said. He pushed her toward the car and the outline of a small black cat who was sitting in the back window watching for them.
"Duck, Familiar," Daniel said as he put Sarah in the passenger seat and ran around to get in the driver's side. He didn't waste a backward glance as he started the motor and zoomed away from the beautiful house.
* * *
"CINDY, WOULD YOU just ask him to speak with me a moment?" Daniel felt the frustration level building to a steamy head. He looked at the door behind which Paul Gottard hid, and considered breaking it down.
"He won't see you," Cindy said. Her stony-faced secretarial training was about to break, though. "Daniel, he really can't see you now." She glanced at Sarah. "Not now."
"Let me speak to him."
"No. I can't. It would mean my job."
"Then he's in there, and I mean to see him."
"Don't do it," she warned. "I'll have to call security, and they'll arrest you. What good would that do? Assault charges won't look very good on your record."
"I don't give a damn about my record!" Daniel couldn't help shouting. "I've had a great record, up until now, and it obviously doesn't count. Why should I get concerned over a bad record? I need to talk with Gottard."
"He has someone else in there." Cindy whispered the words. "He really can't see you."
"Who?" Daniel demanded.
The stony face dropped back over her features. "Get out of here now, before I have to call someone, Daniel. You're in enough trouble without deliberately starting more." She gave Sarah, who was standing silently at the far corner of the room, a withering look. "Take my advice, Daniel, get her and get out of here before someone sees you."
Daniel knew instantly what Cindy meant. She was a smart cookie. She'd heard enough conversations and typed enough letters. Sarah Covington was a hot topic at the Bureau. She was being discussed from the top officers down, and anyone caught defending her was suspicious.
"Tell Gottard I quit. Tell him to take his job and his badge and his gun and— "
Sarah's hand fell across his arm and the gentle pressure of her fingers stopped him. "Let's go," she whispered. "Now."
His gaze met hers and he saw her anger, and her pain for him. "Right. Before I do something I might really regret." He turned back to Cindy one last time. "I know you're only doing your job, and I'm leaving, if you'll tell me one thing. Who's in that room with him? Tell me or I'm going to break down the door, whether it causes trouble for me or not."
"You'll leave? Quietly?"
"You have my word."
Cindy looked at the door, then up at Daniel. "I think you're getting the shaft, Dubonet. It's none of my affair, but you're being railroaded. Joshua Jenkins is in there."
"Jenkins." Sarah said the word like a curse. She felt a surge of anger, and the swelling of tears in her eyes. Damn! She wasn't going to cry. She might break the door down herself and wring the truth out of that old man. How was it possible that he continued to live and thrive and prosper while her father was dead? And he was still besmirching the name of Cal Covington, and her own. She knew that as surely as she drew breath.
"Sarah." It was Daniel's turn to draw her back from the brink of fury. He bent to her ear and whispered, "Let's go. I have another bright idea."
"What is it?"
"Private lab. We can get the same tests run. It's expensive, but it's all we've got."
"I'm sorry," Cindy said. "I really am. Now get out of here before I get fired." She glanced anxiously at Gottard's office door. "Hurry up and get out of here."
"Thanks," Daniel said as he and Sarah started for the door.
To their surprise, Cindy got up from behind her desk and walked to the door. Stepping into the hallway, she signaled them to follow her.
"What is it?" Daniel asked.
She shook her head and hurried them toward the front entrance. When they were out in the dusk she looked around again. "Listen to me, and listen good. Don't trust anyone. Not anyone at all. Don't tell anyone your plans, and if I were you, I'd consider moving out of the Washington area for a while. Maybe forever."
"What is it?" Daniel asked. He could see the tension in the woman. She was risking a lot to talk to him.
"Stay off the phones. The ones at the catering shop are bugged, that much I know for sure."
"We found that," he assured her. "Why are you telling me this?"
Her face drew together in consternation. "I'm not really sure. Except that Cody and I were friends. Good friends. And he spoke a lot about you. He thought you were really great. And I know you didn't kill him."
"They honestly think I killed Cody?" Daniel found it hard to believe.
"Whether they believe it or not, it sounds to me like they're getting ready to stick the blame on you. And Ms. Covington, too. The worst thing that ever happened to you was getting involved with her. Cody might be alive…" She shook her head. "No, that's not right. Just get out of town and disappear. You know how to do it. Now, I've got to go. Don't call me and don't come back here again." She entered the building and slammed the door behind her.
Chapter Fifteen
"I never thought I'd be traveling back to Mississippi with a cat hidden in my carryon." Sarah leaned over the crowded airplane seat and stroked Familiar's head. The black cat gently nibbled at her fingers. "Lucky you knew the security guard at the gate or we'd never have gotten him through."
"We couldn't leave him. Lucinda is a woman with a good deal of power and a lot of anger toward you and Familiar. She isn't above having someone break into your place and take him."
"And if she got her clutches on him, nothing good would happen to my fine furry friend."
Familiar clamped a little harder on her hand, indicating that since he couldn't speak, he'd participate in the conversation the best way he could.
"Ouch!" Sarah shook her hand free of his mouth. "Even when he's silent he's an uppity critter."
"Wait until the tests come back on that meat before you totally condemn him."
"I'm waiting, and I'm certain he's right." She wanted to lift him into her lap, but she didn't want to alert the airline to his presence. He was a stowaway. Sarah couldn't stand the idea of putting him in the luggage compartment, and they also didn't want a record of the cat traveling, even though they themselves were using assumed names. The less trails they left, the more certain they were that they weren't being followed.
"I wish we'd been able to call Mom." Sarah was still concerned. With the turn everything had taken, Mora might be in danger.
"It'll be better if we contact her once we're there. And after we've talked with Estis."
"You're right." Sarah knew it, but the facts were still difficult to accept. She cast a sideways glance at Daniel. Since the aborted meeting with Paul Gottard, he'd been as hard as steel. She knew he felt betrayed, and used. Those were probably the two worst feelings a person could deal with. Except guilt. And judging by Daniel's expression every time Cody Pruett's name was mentioned, he had a plentiful helping of that emotion, too. The toughest part was that there was nothing she could do to comfort him.
Reaching over, she captured his hand and squeezed it. "We're going to figure all of this out."
"Knowing the answers won't change things."
How many times had she thought that very same thing? How many years had passed with her trying to believe that? "It won't change things, not for either of us. But it will put things to rest. At least for me. And I think for you, too. Someone was responsible for what happened to Cody, and for what happened to my dad."
"Do you think revenge will make either of us feel better?"
She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed it softly. "No, I don't believe anything could make the pain and loss go away. Nothing can bring Cody back. Knowing the truth may or may not affect what you're feeling toward the FBI now. It could certainly change my feelings. And it will positively put an end to the tragic things that are happening all around us. That's what we have to think about. If we don't find out what's going on, more innocent people will suffer and possibly die."
Daniel strained against his seat belt as he turned to envelop her in his arms. "You sure know how to drain the self-pity out of a guy." He squeezed her tight. "Thanks. I was almost six feet under with feeling sorry for myself."
"I've been there." She kissed his cheek. "Now, how are we going to convince Graham to talk with us?"
"Do you remember him?"
"Brief moments. I haven't thought of him in years. He was always at the house with Dad. You know, he'd stop by for breakfast and a late supper. He wasn't married then. I guess he was really just a kid. But Dad thought he was very sharp."
"FBI trained, according to Jenkins."
"You say that as if you don't really believe it."
Daniel made a derisive sound. "I don't believe anything I've been told by them. And Jenkins is one of them. That's what I'm trying to figure out, if he was using me the entire time. How big an idiot was I?"
"You were only trying to do your job the best way you
knew how. By the book. That doesn't make you stupid or dumb, Daniel. You know that." She nudged his shoulder. "Now, back to Graham. I was eleven, so he was at least twenty. Maybe twenty-two."
"He still has a long career ahead of him."
"Retirement for a sheriff's deputy isn't exactly plush." Sarah was trying to imagine the young, shy officer as a mature man. He had been smart. Cal's right hand, as it seemed. And he had known a lot about fingerprints and chemical analysis. It was very possible he'd been trained by the FBI. "I wish there was some way we could check out his past."
"So do I, but under the current circumstances, I don't think there's a snowball's chance in hell. Even the people at the agency who would like to help me will be afraid of any contact. Their careers could be ruined."
"I know."
The captain's voice alerting that landing was in ten minutes came over the air, and Sarah bent to check on Familiar. She could tell the cat was growing weary of his confinement in the carryon, but there was nothing she could do. "Another fifteen minutes," she whispered to him. "Then we'll spring you."
Less than half an hour later, with Familiar asleep on the seat between them, they were crossing the five-mile bridge across Lake Ponchatrain and on the way to the Mississippi Gulf Coast. The lights of New Orleans glittered behind them as they rose higher and higher on the bridge. Ahead, the distant shoreline was only a faint sprinkling of lights.
"We'll get a room in Biloxi," Daniel said. "Then tomorrow, bright and early, we'll have a talk with Estis."
"And contact Mom." Sarah tried not to worry. Surely Mora would be fine. No one in their right mind would think she knew anything.
"I know you're worried." Daniel brushed her cheek with his right hand as he drove.
"Meow." Familiar stretched and moved to curl up in Sarah's lap. She stroked his head and scratched under his chin, eliciting a purr. "When will those tests be back?"
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