Attracted to Fire (27 page)

“But, Ash, whoever is causing the problems has our trust.”

He shook his head. “Chip? Ethan's dead.”

“I have no one to pinpoint, only the inkling that the answer is closer to us than we could ever imagine.”

Was this about a woman's intuition again? “I can't go along with your supposition. Everything points to drugs and Lindsay's history.”

“Even Wade's death?”

They stopped beneath a live oak. In the distance, the fiery sun played its last tribute to the day. He took a deep breath. “My suspicions run on logic. I've run backgrounds on every agent here, looking for a hole. We have cutting-edge software, and still we can't trace every e-mail or find out who's behind it.”

“My mind has worked through a dozen scenarios. And I have an idea.”

Ash studied her. “Your sister's been found dead, and your mind is working on finding who's responsible for all the chaos here and in DC?”

“I have to. If I dwell on Shelley, I'll fall apart.” She swiped at a tear. “The best way I can pay tribute to my sister is to help Lindsay find her way back. I know we're protectors, not crime solvers, but I believe part of the problem is here.”

“All right. What's your idea?”

“Think about what I'm proposing while I'm gone. This last e-mail was hostile. But what he wanted was for Lindsay to meet him at a local bar. My guess, it's a dive where only good ol' boys and their girlfriends hang out. I'm Lindsay's size, and we have similar features. I want a wig, blue contacts, and a set of clothes. Let me play the part and beat this jerk at his own game.”

She was nuts if she thought he'd agree. “No way would I permit that. It's too dangerous.”

“I can handle myself. But I wouldn't want anyone else to know what I was doing.”

“Are you sure you're not simply reacting to Shelley's death?”

“I'm motivated by what's happened. But I've been thinking about a way to draw them into the open for a long time.”

He grasped the challenge in her voice. “Meghan, I—”

“Please, think about it.”

But he wouldn't. The idea of risking her life in a foolhardy effort to pose as Lindsay sickened him.

Chapter 43

In the early hours of Tuesday morning, Ash realized how much he missed Meghan. The ranch was quiet. Nothing new in DC, and no more e-mails to Lindsay. So he waited and wondered.

Waited for DC to find the stalker.

Waited for DC to find who'd bombed Lindsay's car and killed one person and hurt another.

Waited for DC to find the sniper who'd murdered Wade.

Waited for Meghan to return to the ranch.

Wondered when President Hall would make a decision about who would be on his PPD.

Wondered if the goal of his career was really worth being in competition with Meghan.

Wondered if someone he trusted had betrayed them into the hands of an unseen enemy.

And although he'd taken a double shift to cover for Meghan since she'd left and he should be sleeping, his mind refused to cease whirling with thoughts about everything in his life.

At 0400, Ash tore back the sheet and walked to the window in his room. He'd never have peace, and he'd surely never have a life with Meghan until his world stopped crashing in on him. He'd almost asked her if they could work at a relationship, but the news about her sister's death took a lead. Reality held him captive. As long as he kept the past locked away, the two of them were doomed.

Glancing at his laptop on the dresser, he shook his head. This time he had no intention of watching the footage of Joel's death. He was finished with the guilt and shame of blaming Annette for his own failure to perform. He had an appointment with destiny—and as dramatic as it sounded, that was exactly how he felt.

He remembered Ethan talking about Chip one day having a come-to-Jesus meeting. At the time, it sounded ridiculous. Now it made sense.

Ash needed to either face the past and deal with it or give up and stay in his miserable shell. In a way, he reminded himself of Lindsay, cowering under fear.

“All right, God,” he whispered. “Bring it on.”

He shivered in the shadows, wishing his utterances hadn't made it all so real. The competitive part of him sought to challenge God. Losing Joel was unfair, so he took on the role of A2Z and thrived on what it meant to be detail oriented. But it hadn't cured the sleepless nights and the way he kept people at a distance.

Ash couldn't control his destiny any more than any other poor human being on the face of the planet. Should he pick up his Bible and read until his eyes blurred and he wept like a child? Granted, humility had never been his trademark.

Did he need to simply sit in the dark and wait for an audible voice to tell him he was forgiven?

Breathing in deeply, he recalled something his grandmother used to say: “To be forgiven, one must forgive.”

If he wanted true release from what happened to Joel and Annette, then he had to forgive himself. He could almost hear the swish of the revolving door that had kept him in the cycle for too long.

The memories would always be with him, but they didn't have to rule him.

At 0600, he picked up his phone and called Annette Hamilton. On the third ring, her husband answered.

“Tim, this is Ash Zinders. I apologize for the early hour, but I'd like to speak to Annette.”

“Can't it wait until a civilized hour?”

Tim Hamilton despised Ash, and he had good reason. Perhaps the call was too selfish. He'd let Tim set the stage. “It's important, or I wouldn't be bothering you.”

“All right.”

A few moments later, Annette answered. “This had better be good, Ash. You aren't one of my favorite people.”

“I had that coming. Look, Annette, call it soul-searching or a need to clear my conscience, but I want to ask your forgiveness for what happened in LA. I blamed you when I was the one who got you shot and Joel killed. I hesitated. My fault.”

“What?” He heard the incredulous tone in her groggy voice.

“I'm asking if you will forgive me for blaming you.”

“You're asking a lot, considering I took the heat, and now my life is spent in a wheelchair.”

“You're right.”

“Have you gotten religion?”

“Guess so.”

“You sorry—” She swore. “I'm not making it easy on your conscience. Go light a dozen candles or see a priest.” Annette hung up.

Ash snapped the phone closed. Odd, her words had not stung his soul. He'd done his part. That's all he could do.

And the peace filling him felt good. Real good.

Meghan stood at Shelley's graveside, her arm wrapped around Mom's waist. Only a few flowers remained, the special sunflowers Shelley treasured. The other plants and arrangements were to be delivered to the elderly in their church. Shelley would have wanted it that way. She loved the older generation, and when she was sober, she volunteered at nursing homes.

Mom trembled, sorrow wracking her body. Those who had attended the graveside service were gone or had already driven to the luncheon at church.

“How often have we spoken about this very thing?” Mom reached for another tissue in her purse.

“Many times. We thought we were prepared, didn't we?” Meghan kissed her mother's cheek.

“Shelley didn't have the strength to fight the addiction. She needed your father.”

They all missed him, but Meghan didn't feel talking about him would help her mother work through Shelley's death.

“Oh, sweetheart, how cruel of me.” She leaned her head on Meghan's shoulder. “You tried so hard.”

“We both did. I wish I could have talked to her before she left the rehab. Maybe I could have gotten her to continue with the program.”

“Don't do that to yourself. The what-ifs will eat you alive. What I don't understand is that the last conversation Shelley and I had was positive. She thanked me for not deserting her. She wanted to talk to you personally and thank you too.”

Shelley often made claims, but she simply didn't have the strength to follow through. “We'll never know, Mom.”

“But I felt so encouraged after our conversation.”

Meghan remembered Dad's death and Mom's regrets of not always supporting him in his work to help others. “Let's go on to church and get through this day.”

Mom nodded and blew her nose. They walked toward Meghan's car. “Tell me about Lindsay Hall. Is she doing better?”

She could only say so much about her protectee. “She's doing very well. Honestly she's a talented young woman. Intelligent, too.”

“I'm glad, but I wondered about all the nasty things the news say about her.”

“I can't tell you about my work, since she's the president's daughter.”

“But I'm your mother, and what you tell me doesn't go anywhere. I pray for her every day . . . just like I did our Shelley.”

“And like our Shelley, Lindsay must make the proper choices if she's going to have a fulfilling life. I know she can. I encourage her at every opportune moment.”

“Unhappiness leads to coping mechanisms that have the potential to kill us.”

“You're so right. Keep praying for her. I'm not sure how long she will be at the current location, and I'm afraid what will happen when she regains her freedom.”

“I understand. She has a piece of your heart.”

“She does.” Meghan opened the car door for her mother, then took one more fleeting look at the grave. Once she seated herself and started the engine, she felt Mom studying her. “What are you thinking? Something I need to know about Shelley?”

“My concern is you. Are you doing okay with the cancelled engagement?”

“I am.” She thought of Ash and how he'd come to mean more to her in a short time than the man she'd once agreed to marry.

“It must be lonely working with a team of men.”

“We're all friends, and we get along fine.” She'd like to tell Mom about Wade's death, Lindsay's stalker, and her suspicions about someone at the ranch betraying them, but that was classified information.

“What are you not telling me?”

Meghan smiled and drove toward the church. She doubted if either of them felt like eating. “Why do you think I'm keeping something from you?”

“You're my daughter. I know you.”

She could reveal a little of the turmoil keeping her awake at night. “Remember the time Dad went to the pound and brought home the dog that didn't like women?”

“Chuckie? How could I forget? You girls wanted to make friends, and he snapped at you every chance he got. Me too.”

“Remember how Shelley gave up, but I kept trying to find ways to befriend him?”

“Oh yes. I begged your dad to get rid of the dog, especially after he bit you twice.”

“But I eventually won him over.”

“Tenacity is one of your strengths.”

“I just wondered if you remembered.”

Mom touched her arm. “Oh, Meghan, do you have a Chuckie?”

Tears filled her eyes. “I'm afraid so.”

“Is he an agent?”

Meghan nodded. “Don't say a word. I know I said I'd never consider another agent because we'd destroy each other with our commitment to our careers.”

“Maybe you should have told that to your heart.”

Chapter 44

Tuesday afternoon, while Lindsay watched a movie, Ash read the headlines on his BlackBerry. He inwardly moaned.

President Hall and Vice President Burnette Clash over Foreign Policy.

Ash fumed. The Shield had worked hard to organize the Middle East Peace Summit. His plans had the potential to put the United States back into the forefront as a world power who orchestrated peace with Arab countries. Ash had heard the rumblings about the president and vice president hotly debating the peace summit and current foreign policy. According to the news release, Vice President Burnette refused to take the president's place at the peace talks. The article continued with news claiming Vice President Burnette had met with Speaker of the House Randolph in an effort to cancel the peace summit's agenda. At this point, the president and the vice president were taking three days at Camp David to settle their differences.

President Hall had to be questioning his choice of VP, even if the two men were lifelong friends. Didn't the president know how Burnette felt about crucial issues before he nominated him? Political allies didn't conceal their views, unless another agenda was in place. Of course, if they didn't come to an agreement, the president might yank his daughter off the Dancin' Dust.

Ash weighed the two men's personalities. Until recently, Burnette seemed content in the background. But since attaining his VP status, he'd become vocal about the current administration, and he'd been seen with Speaker of the House Randolph, who strongly opposed many of President Hall's foreign and domestic policies. The
New York Times
claimed Randolph planned to toss his hat into the ring for the presidential election. If that were true, where would that place Burnette?