Attracted to Fire (12 page)

“Thanks. Let me dive into this first. Tell me about your evening.”

She glanced around. “Not out here. Is Victor in the operation room?”

“Probably. He never sleeps. Do you want to see if he'll step out here for a few minutes?”

Once Victor replaced Ash, he and Meghan entered the house. Thankfully, Pepper had retired for the evening, allowing them to sit in the kitchen alone. Was that smart? He'd have to focus on reporting the evening's latest news . . . and on the food.

“What was for dinner?” Meghan opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water.

“Stuffed poblanos.”

She laughed. “Why don't you eat, and I'll brief you on the evening?”

They sat side by side on the kitchen bar stools. She was dangerously close, and her citrusy scent lingered, driving him nuts.

“What happened tonight other than eating?” He forked a bit of chicken into his mouth. It tasted better than anything he'd eaten since arriving at the Dancin' Dust.

“Chip serenaded me with his guitar, and we talked.”

Why did annoyance worm its way into him? “Did you learn anything?”

She proceeded to tell him everything from the moment she entered the Leonards' home. “Chip's body language didn't give any indication of pretense, but he does hide behind his intelligence.” She paused. “I still have unanswered questions. We're going riding with Lindsay in the morning. I'll probe deeper.”

“Maybe I'll come too.”

“Didn't know you liked to ride.”

He refused to answer, and he'd fake his lack of horsemanship. “First time for everything. The sooner we get to the bottom of this, the better off we'll be.” He added gruffness to his tone. “New development while you were gone.”

Meghan gave him her attention. Why couldn't she have a wart on her nose?

“They caught a man attempting to access the VP's home. A known drug dealer from Colombia by the name of Jorge Ramos. He'd been arrested previously and deported. Back again to see what he could do.”

“Best news I've heard in a long time. Maybe now we'll get some answers.”

Ash frowned. “Not really. He fired at the agents and was killed.”

“But has it ended, Ash? Can we assume Lindsay is safe from the stalker?”

“Warrington has no proof that the man who threatened her was Ramos.” He sighed. The day had been long. “There's more. An hour after the shooting, an e-mail came through for Lindsay. The sender writes as though he knows her.”

“What did he say?”

“I thought you'd like to see it.” He picked up his plate. “Let me show you.”

They moved to the operation room and Ash's computer screen. “Take a look, Meghan. Maybe you can read something into this better than I have. Victor's already worked on it.” He offered her his chair.

Hey, Lindsay,

I really do want to see you. We have a lot in common, and you know it. Both of us hate the vice president's guts and love to party. Too bad the shooter didn't get inside your parents' house today. We could be celebrating now. And I'd bring the good stuff.

I know where you're hiding, Lindsay. I could help you get away where no one could find us. Tell me when you're ready.

Remembering our last date.

Meghan stared into Ash's face. “He has to know we're monitoring her e-mail.”

“He's playing games.”

“Did you respond?”

“I thought I'd give you the honors. Figured you could sound more like Lindsay.” Ash meant every word.

Meghan hit Reply.

Hey,

Don't know who you are. I've had lots of dates with lots of guys. Come clean with who you are and help me get out of here. I'll make it worth your trouble. I have a raging headache, and the withdrawals are the pits. To make it worse, Daddy has this nutcase nutritionist filling me full of vitamins. The only kind of pills I want aren't sold in a health-food store. Let's hook up. I need to score bad. They've taken my phone.

Lindsay

Ash read Meghan's response. “Hit Send. What do we have to lose?”

“All right. Let the games continue.”

Two minutes later, another e-mail for Lindsay slid into her in-box.

Lindsay,

We'll be together soon. Give me a little time to work out a plan. Let's be honest here. The Secret Service is reading every word, but they're stupid. Ash Zinders is getting careless, and he's bored. All he can do is follow his rule book and bark orders. His team thinks he's a joke. And that woman assigned to you? She's nothing more than a diversion for the other agents. Might give her a whirl myself. But why settle for trash when I can have you?

They'll end up dead, and you'll help me do it.

Soon, Lindsay. Real soon.

Meghan typed another response and sent it. “Message is undeliverable. The account's been closed.”

Chapter 16

Monday morning, Meghan replayed her evening at the Leonards. She'd failed to uncover a solid lead on Ethan's or Chip's possible involvement with Lindsay's stalkers. But Chip was the one who most likely had contact with them. This morning she wavered between ignoring her suspicions and her own type A personality that spurred her to investigate him further. The situation had her mind and stomach spinning with unanswered questions.

Meghan waited outside Lindsay's bedroom. Some mornings she wanted Meghan's company, as though they were best friends. Other mornings she acted as though Meghan were the enemy. Today they were to go riding, another opportunity to observe Chip. An ear-piercing scream sent Meghan into her protectee's room. Lindsay sat up in bed, face pale and eyes wide. She trembled and wrapped her arms around her waist.

“Get them out of here.” Terror oozed from Lindsay's eyes. “They'll kill me.”

“Who? Talk to me.” But Meghan understood exactly. Lindsay was hallucinating.

“The purple monsters.” She pointed toward the closet. “Can't you see them floating out from the wall? They have knives—long, jagged ones.”

For a moment, Meghan considered going after Dave. But what would he do? Have her drink an extra dose of vitamin C? Instead she hurried to Lindsay's bedside and grasped her shoulders. “Look at me. Not at the purple monsters, but at me. Take deep breaths.”

Lindsay hesitated. “I can't.”

“Yes, you can.” How many times had Meghan coaxed another young woman into focusing on reality? “You know what this is. You've been through it before. Let me help you. The hallucinations will pass.”

Lindsay slowly turned to Meghan.

“Good. Now look into my eyes.”

She obliged, and her body eased slightly. “I've been sober for almost a week. Why now?”

“I don't know, but we'll work through it.” Meghan sat on her bed and drew Lindsay into her arms. “I imagine Dave will have answers.”

“Please, stay with me.” Lindsay's sobs muffled in Meghan's shoulder. “I hate being alone. They'll come back.”

“I'm here for as long as you need me.”

“You don't see the monsters? They spit fire, and their knives have blood on them.”

Any other time, the conversation would be ridiculous, as though a child were having nightmares. But this was a young woman whose body craved alcohol and drugs to function. “Do you want to see Dave?”

“No. I just want to go back to sleep.”

The clock on Lindsay's nightstand flashed 8:35. “Didn't you sleep last night?”

“No. I had nightmares.”

“Close your eyes. I won't leave.”
Oh, Lindsay. I want so much for you.

“If only I could escape this horrible world.”

“I know.” Meghan held her until she heard even breathing. Then she laid Lindsay on the pillow. Such a pretty young woman—blonde hair, blue eyes, a face like an angel. Meghan prayed she'd find the will to fight the drugs and alcohol for good.

At 1300, Lindsay wakened, and Meghan stepped out into the hallway, where Dave and Carla waited. For certain, they had Lindsay's health and well-being as top priority. Admiration rose in her for their dedication, and she chided herself for sometimes thinking their methods of treating Lindsay were foolish.

“She's awake.” Meghan closed the door behind her. “Right now, she's in the bathroom.”

“Thank you for staying with her. I wanted to intervene, but I trusted your instincts. I've witnessed so many patients suffer through hallucinations, and I know they're terrifying.” Compassion radiated from his eyes. “I have a call scheduled with her father in less than five minutes.” He glanced at his phone, and it vibrated.

“Guess that call is now.” Dave walked to the stairway and turned to face Meghan. “Good morning, Mr. Burnette. I was expecting the vice president.” He moistened his lips. “I understand. She had a rough night. Nightmares and hallucinations. But I'll see if she feels like talking.”

Dave nodded at Meghan, who went inside to check on her protectee and relay the message.

“I don't want to talk to him,” Lindsay said on the other side of the bathroom door.

“Mr. Burnette cares about you.”

Lindsay cursed. “No way.”

Frustrated, Meghan responded to Dave and walked downstairs. Unfortunately, Lindsay's behavior was typical, and changes took time.

Once in the kitchen, Meghan reached for a small bowl of lettuce and added toppings from an assortment of veggies, egg salad, and roasted turkey on the kitchen counter. She joined Ash in the operation room. Not sure why she often chose to eat with him instead of in the kitchen. If she examined her motives, she'd admit this absurd attraction to him. They were so much alike, almost scary and yet challenging at the same time. Lately he'd been more congenial, but she also knew his moods could turn as quickly as Lindsay's. What demons chased him?

Again they were alone. Maybe that needed to stop. After all, he wanted the same assignment to the VP's protective team, and his kindness could be a way to find something to use against her. Today he seemed agitated. Nothing new there, and he kept sneezing. Probably allergies. She'd come to the conclusion he hid behind his gruff reputation. Wade told her he had a deep faith, and his dedication to the Secret Service sprang from his relationship to God. But God was loving and didn't push people away. Maybe someday she'd learn the reason he erected a concrete wall, and when she did, perhaps she could find a way to penetrate it.

“When you finish eating, would you mind checking on Lindsay's e-mail and texts? Our guy hasn't contacted her again. He might have a new approach.”

“Any leads?”

“The man shot Sunday night was part of the Medellín Cartel—bold, mean, and gaining power. They're building a drug-trafficking empire throughout Colombia, and they're incorporating other smaller dealers by eliminating key persons.”

“How did Lindsay get involved in organized drug smuggling?” Meghan shook her head. “Strike that. They probably targeted her. No surprise when you consider the crowd she runs with.”

“Doesn't matter. She got sucked in, and they mean business. Unfortunately, that's all we know since Jorge Ramos is dead. Last night's e-mail has me furious and alarmed. The guy has guts.” Ash pointed to her plate. “You'd better eat. After the screams we all heard this morning and the energy it must have taken to calm Lindsay, you've got to be hungry.”

She stared at her salad. “How did you handle the hallucinations?”

He hesitated as though forming his words. “I tried talking to her, but any act of decency on my part was quickly tossed back. Not that I blame her. As you already know, we have a volatile relationship. Usually I prayed. Sometimes a counselor or her mother witnessed them.”

“Ash, do you pray for her still?”

He studied her for a moment. “Yes, and every member of my team.”

“I do too. This morning when she clung to me, I nearly lost it. I'm a driven woman, so I don't quite understand her self-destruction.”

“You and I are on the same page when it comes to Lindsay.” He took a deep breath. “I'm glad you're here for her. Bet you didn't expect that.”

She smiled and pushed her plate back. What she'd eaten competed with her whirling thoughts. She turned to a computer.

“Meghan, you can't take the job personally.”

She snapped up, understanding he wasn't aware of her past. She had her own demons. “You have no clue how I can take a job personally.”

His face registered surprise, but for once, he didn't say a word.

What was she thinking? “Sorry, sir, I was out of line. No excuse.”

“I understand. We both want so much for Lindsay, but she has to make the first step.”

After retrieving Lindsay's text messages and finding nothing, Meghan scrolled through their protectee's e-mail. Friends questioned about the next party and whether she'd gotten a new car. Some offered sympathy because she'd obviously been whisked off to another rehab, or she'd have responded to them. No one mentioned the woman killed in the car bombing or asked if she'd been injured. Meghan reread a message from a supposed male, one that had dropped into Lindsay's in-box twenty minutes ago.

“Ash, this one reads a little strange, and it doesn't appear to be from last night's sender. Maybe it's my radar. ‘Hey, Lindsay, met you two weeks ago at Dominic's party. I'm the guy who offered breakfast at my place. I thought I'd try your e-mail. Sorry to hear about your car. The media are going nuts. When can we get together? Are you living with your parents?'”

“Did he sign it?”

“No. Want a tracer sent? Maybe we'll have better luck this time.”

“Yes, and I'll ask Warrington to run a background check on this Dominic fellow and see if he can get a list of the others who attended the party. I remember the guy who hosted it, the son of a congressman. Would you mind answering the e-mail? Seems to be your specialty.” Ash worked his way around the table and bent over the back of her chair. The nearness of him unnerved her, his warm breath sending chills along her neck. She needed to end these reactions now.