Attracted to Fire (31 page)

She tossed him a puzzled look. “Which is?”

“A way to cover up what we're doing.”

“I don't understand.”

“What I've been wanting to do since the night of the scorpion.” He took their coffee mugs and set them on the porch step.

She laughed. “People will talk.”

He wrapped his arms around her. “That gives us an alibi when we sneak off.”

“Hmm, smart man.”

“We'll need lots of excuses. Give them much to talk about.” The desire to kiss her clouded his normal logic.

“Maybe we should start now.” His lips descended on hers, tasting, taking, giving. Meghan slipped her arms around his neck. “This is even better than the first time.”

“By the time this assignment is finished, we'll be pros.” Her whisper prompted him to pull her closer.

When the kiss was over, he found it difficult to focus. But he needed to continue his research on Burnette and look for a bug. “I have a few things to do in the operation room.”

Their foreheads touched. “Do you need any help?”

“As long as you promise not to be a distraction. Shall we refill our coffee cups? I need a shot of caffeine before a cold shower.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “We make a good team.”

In the kitchen, Ash greeted Pepper, also an early riser. She was sprinkling cinnamon over freshly rolled-out dough. His stomach growled. Working all night had a tendency to make a man hungry.

In the operation room, Meghan closed the door behind them. Ash bent to examine every inch of the heavy table. She checked the small one where they served coffee.

“Has the Middle East Peace Summit been officially postponed to January?” She climbed onto a chair to search the chandelier.

“Not officially, but it probably will. Vice President Burnette hasn't had much of an opportunity to review what the president has put together.”

“My guess is they worked out something at Camp David. The president values diplomacy, and the peace talks are important to him.” Meghan stepped to the floor and shook her head.

Ash pointed her to the bookshelf, while he searched the chairs. If a bug existed, they'd find it. Meghan worked fast. Oh, how he appreciated her.

“How long do you think we'll be here with Lindsay?” she said.

“Other rehabs have been at least three months. One in Utah lasted six.”

“I think she's doing well.”

“Tonight she was acting strange. Makes me wonder if she has a stash.” He glanced up and smiled at her.

“We could ask Dave. He recognizes the signs.” By now, Meghan had lifted out a half dozen books with no luck.

Ash finished the fourth chair, four more to inspect. “Do you suppose anyone suspects us?”

“Are you kidding? The great A2Z sneaking off with a woman agent?”

“Very funny. I'll remember that, you insatiable woman.”

Meghan flirted over her shoulder. “Your fault.”

He examined the ceiling. Why hadn't he checked there first? He reached for a small penlight on the table.

“Have you heard from Wade's family?” Meghan pulled out another armful of books.

“No. I'll visit them when this assignment is over.”

“Can I come along?”

“I'll consider it. You'll have to behave yourself between now and then.”

“Honestly, the late nights are killing me.”

“Are you telling me I'm not worth it?” He shone the light around the air duct frame. He'd unscrew it, but the noise would alert whoever might be listening.

“Not exactly. But it would have been courteous if the president had allowed us to have four weeks on and two weeks off.”

“I agree. Day after day on this ranch is making me crazy—except for the time with you.”

Ash spotted a small round device that looked like a watch battery in the lower left-hand corner of the air duct. He gestured to Meghan. For now, it would stay in place, and they'd use Burnette's bug to their advantage.

“I need to get a shower before breakfast.” Meghan replaced the book in her hand.

“First I need a kiss. It's a long time before I can do this again.” He gave her a celebratory kiss. “This ranch is not so bad after all.”

“Except when you and I can't steal away outside.”

“Not so sure I can wait until tonight.” He glanced around them, looking for something he might have missed.

“I don't suggest letting the rest of the team observe our . . .”

“Affection? Remember I'm the agent who despises women in the Secret Service.”

“Have I successfully changed your mind?”

“Let me show you.”

Chapter 50

Lindsay slept hard, and when she did waken, her first thoughts were what she'd told Meghan and Ash. Had she made a terrible mistake? The news. She had to find out if Dad and Mom were okay. If Burnette had found out what she'd done and killed her parents, the media would be reporting the tragedy on every network.

She hit the power button on the TV remote in her room. Soaps and game shows lit the screen. News networks were busy as usual with a steady stream of bad situations all around the world. But nothing about the president and First Lady. Lindsay leaned back against the pillow. She had done the right thing. Meghan and Ash would find a way to stop Burnette. She wasn't alone.

But one of the agents had to be working for Burnette. How else could a sniper have known when Wade and Chip ran? Could it be Chip? She didn't think so.

I'm stronger than this. I won't give in to the bullying.
She tossed back the blanket and headed for the shower. Breakfast, counseling, reading, the pool, horseback riding, and smoothies filled with supplements. A thought occurred to her. She could act like she'd found the drugs. That would appease Burnette. Make him think she was following orders. But first she needed to toss the idea by Meghan.

I am stronger.

I can do this.

A twinge of emotion swept through her. For a moment, she wondered what it would be like to be part of a real family. Burnette had told her they didn't care. Lindsay shook her head. If she lived through this, she'd talk to Dave about the past. She couldn't think of a single reason why they'd left her in the boarding school during her birthday or the summer between her freshman and sophomore years. Two weeks at Christmas, two weeks for spring break—if she was lucky—and a few weeks during the summer. Why? She gave up making excuses for them when she was twelve. But learning the truth might push her into addictive behavior again.

Chapter 51

Early Monday, Meghan and Ash stepped onto the back porch and faced the still darkness of predawn. She treasured this time of day. Running together in the early hours gave them time to not only talk about their common problems but to also get to know each other better. He wanted her to meet his parents, and she wanted him to meet her mother. They shared green as their favorite color. He opened presents on Christmas Eve, and she opened hers on Christmas Day. He liked to water-ski. She preferred snow. Once the assignment was over, she'd miss this.

They broke into a slow jog toward the front gate. She dreaded this small section of the five-mile run. Even at this hour, four reporters lurked outside their RVs, looking for a new story about Lindsay Hall.

“Do you ever feel like we're goldfish in a big sea of sharks?” Meghan studied a familiar figure on the other side of the gate, a balding man who had a foul mouth.

“I think some of them would sink their teeth into both of us for info about Lindsay.”

“And they say we're ruthless. A few are respectful. But not many. Maybe this will be the one morning they'll leave us alone.”

“Don't count on it. It's all about having their name in print.”

The gate opened, and the agent nodded a good-morning. The bald reporter at the gate stood in front of them. “What's going on today?”

Meghan and Ash swerved around him. She scanned the area for the figure who might not fit in with the rest, the one who'd try to slip through the gate and gain information about Lindsay. She understood Ash did the same.

“Is Lindsay sober?” The same man's persistence was like sandpaper against her nerves.

“When is the vice president making an appearance?” came another voice. “Doesn't the president care enough about his daughter to visit her? Or has he written her off?”

“Has he decided to keep her here until she learns how to keep her mouth shut?” This came from the obnoxious bald man.

Meghan and Ash jogged past the RVs.

A sharp sting to her shoulder caused her to gasp. She touched the wound and felt the blood oozing down her arm.

“Meghan, what's wrong?” Ash's whisper broke through the pain.

She stopped in the middle of the road and walked back to the reporter.

“Meghan?” She ignored him. Something inside her was close to snapping.

“Which one of you threw a rock at me?”

The reporter from the gate chuckled, his bald head glowing under the light mounted above them. “Got your attention, didn't it? Of course it was an accident.”

Ash appeared beside her, but she didn't need rescuing. The events of the last six weeks had left her restless . . . and angry. “Do you have any idea what you've done?”

“I want to know if the president intends to keep his daughter here until she learns to behave herself.” He reached for another rock.

“And you think throwing a rock at a Secret Service agent will get you an answer?”

He smirked and turned to look at who might be watching. “Not my fault you got in the way.”

The rock danced back and forth in his hands. A camera flashed. This incident would hit the front page of every newspaper, TV, and radio coast to coast.

Calm down, Meghan. Sharks are flesh eaters, and he's only living up to his pitiful, innate responses to life
.

“Hey.” The man pointed to Ash. “You can't talk? You let a woman speak for you? Ah, I bet you and the lady are sharing a bed.”

She counted to five, but when another camera flashed, her resolve slid to her toes.

“Ignore him, Meghan.” Ash's words failed to calm her.

“I got a hundred bucks for the first one who gives me a few answers so the public can read what's happening out here.”

Meghan wiped the blood streaming past her elbow and walked to the man, never taking her eyes off his face. She had all the control she needed. “If you ever throw a rock at me again, you'll regret it.” Wiping her bloody hand on the front of his golf shirt, she smiled. “Excuse me; my bloody hand got in the way of your shirt. Send me the cleaning bill.” She whirled around and resumed her run.

Several feet from the scene, she realized her actions had dropped below the professional level. “I'm sorry, Ash. I shouldn't have touched him. Now my face and his bloody shirt will be all over the news.”

“Don't worry about it. I wanted to flatten him when I saw the blood. You handled it better than I would.”

“That doesn't make me feel any better. But I like your chivalry.”

“Thank you, ma'am. And remind me not to ever make you mad.”

She wiped the blood trickling to her wrist. The rock had cut deep.

“Meghan, let's head back so I can look at your arm.”

“And give that bald weasel the satisfaction of knowing he stopped me? I'd bleed out first.” She forced a laugh, but her response to the injury nibbled at her conscience. “How can we get rid of those guys?”

“Drain the pool.”

“I'd like to pull the plug on them and Burnette.” Her anger rose again.

“Yeah, but the VP seems to have the president in the palm of his hand.”

Like the reporter's rock. “Do you ever wonder or hope Warrington and the president are getting wise to him?”

“All the time. If the president suspected Burnette had anything to do with Lindsay's addiction, he'd be behind bars. Unfortunately the VP is the prez's blind spot.”

“I wish I knew how to have a private audience with him. But Burnette would stop or deny everything. It's all back to finding the proof we need.”

“I want Lindsay off this ranch.” Ash's determination frosted his words. “But I don't have the clout to get it done. Everything I've tried has backfired.”

“That doesn't mean we quit.”

“I can't figure out what Burnette is waiting on. The next election? See if the Speaker of the House seeks the nomination? Or is he planning an assassination, in which case he won't need Lindsay? You know he's not sending the e-mails and texts. Too smart for that.”

“I'm not giving up on finding a way to talk to the president.”

“Uh, I realized your backbone at the gate.”

“Don't forget it either. I wonder if he'll be waiting for me now that he's had time to think about his bloodied shirt.”

“Probably. Guys like him feed off confrontation and—”

“I know, Ash. He'll be back for more. It'll take more than a stone for me to lose it this time.”

Her shoulder continued to sting the next two miles and then back to the ranch. Talking about Burnette's treachery with no solution depressed her. Compound the situation with the pain in her shoulder, and she wanted to go back to bed. Burnette would hear about today and gloat.

Up ahead a small group of reporters swarmed the gate.

“How's the shoulder?” Ash said.

“Needs to be cleaned. Still bleeding.”

“Do you think it needs stitches?” His concern touched her.

“It wasn't a bullet.” She huffed. “Then I'd have unloaded on him.”

They were forced to stop by the balding man, who stood in the way of the gate.

“Sir, please move.” Ash's voice held a deadly tone.

“Not sure I know how.”

Ash pulled his radio clipped to his running shorts. “I need two agents at the gate immediately. Also call the sheriff. I have a reporter here who assaulted an agent.”