Attracted to Fire (43 page)

“What if she kept a copy? What are you going to do then?” Meghan bored her gaze into Burnette's face.

“She wasn't smart enough to do that. Thought I was going to marry her. What a tramp.” Burnette's hand trembled. “That's what happens to those who stand in my way. The way of our country's greater good.”

Ash knew Meghan could take out Burnette if given the chance. But she'd have to get her gun first, and it was three feet from her right foot. Ash calculated the timing needed to snatch his SIG from the floor and bring down Burnette. All they needed was the right moment.

“I suppose when you're president, your wife will want to come back.” Meghan tilted her head.

Keep it up, Meghan.
He leaned forward while Burnette focused on Meghan.

“She will. Trust me. Once I'm the most powerful man in the country, she'll beg to come back.”

“Will you let her?”

Burnette's head snapped back at Ash, as though he understood Meghan's diversion. She dove for her SIG and shouted for Lindsay to get down. Burnette whirled back to Meghan and took aim.

Ash pushed the president to the floor at the same time he reached for his gun.

“Not this time.” Burnette turned his weapon back to Ash and fired, sending a bullet into Ash's arm.

That was all the opening Meghan needed, and she closed in with a shot to Burnette's heart.

It was finally over.

Chapter 75

Six Weeks Later

Meghan linked her arm into Ash's, mindful of the sling where Burnette's bullet had shattered a bone. She pointed to two riders heading their way. “I see them.”

He looked around the Virginia countryside. “This farm is beautiful.”

A few of the trees were dressed in shades of orange and gold. Rolling. Picturesque. “The red barn looks like it stepped out of a magazine.”

“I agree—a real estate magazine with a fancy price.”

She laughed. “Not like the Dancin' Dust.”

They walked toward the white fence. “I admit it had a different kind of appeal. But I don't miss the scorching heat, the snakes, or the jalapeños.” He kissed her cheek. “But there I found you.”

“And changed your image.”

“I'm still the detailed, pain-in-the-rear agent, except when I'm around you.”

“Keep talking and you might dig yourself out of this.”

“Would an ‘I love you' help?”

She patted his arm, the one without the sling. How she loved this man. “Maybe if you were five and wanted a cookie.”

“Oh, the next fifty to sixty years are going to be rough.”

She frowned. “Is there no pity for me, A2Z?”

He moaned. “Maybe a little.” The riders drew closer. “Hey, Chip and Lindsay look good.”

“It's called love, and they're happy.”

“I know the feeling.”

So did she, like living in a fairy tale where she was a princess who'd found her prince.

The couple rode to the fence and dismounted. Ash reached out to shake Chip's hand, while Meghan hugged Lindsay.

“You have one beautiful piece of property.” Ash whistled. “This city boy could do some serious R&R here.”

Chip wrapped his arm around Lindsay. “Thanks. Far enough from DC to be comfortable and close enough to see my girl.”

Lindsay flashed him a smile. “I couldn't believe he'd bought this place. Wait 'til you see the farmhouse. It's stunning.” She turned to Meghan. “I understand you've been permanently assigned to me.”

“I have. And Ash is now a part of the PPD.”

“I'm so glad. Did Daddy tell you my plans?”

“He said you had some exciting news, but that was it.”

“I have two years of school left, so I'm switching my major to music. I want to teach kids.” She shrugged. “And whoever's interested.”

“Wonderful.” Meghan had wanted a beautiful life for Lindsay, and now it looked like she was on her way to achieving it.

Lindsay glanced at Chip. “We're getting married in a year. And we're working on plans to turn this farm into an equestrian rehabilitation center for stroke victims, as well as those of all ages who are physically and mentally challenged. We hope to incorporate music into the program.”

“That is amazing,” Meghan said. “I'm thrilled for you.”

“Congratulations.” Ash wrapped his arm around Meghan's waist. “I could get used to a place like this.”

“Give yourself a few years, and I'll let you come visit.” Chip chuckled.

“Ouch. But I might have to take you up on it.”

Meghan couldn't remember being happier. She and Ash would always have their stubborn clashes, but they'd been talking to Dave about open communication.

“So when are you two tying the knot?” Chip said.

Meghan wanted to stand on her tiptoes and shout the news.

“We aren't waiting a year.” Ash laughed. “New Year's Day in Abilene. Can you make it?”

Chip nodded. “We'll be there.”

“Is the nightmare really over?” Lindsay leaned her head on Chip's shoulder. “Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night and wonder if Burnette might still be in charge.”

Meghan hadn't been able to put Shelley's murder out of her mind either. She needed to forgive what had been done to her sister. “It takes realization that God is always in charge, and He will heal our hurts if we let Him.”

“So many people were hurt by Burnette's insane ideals.” Lindsay shook her head. “I think I'll always be on a campaign to make sure truth rises to the surface.”

Meghan didn't want Lindsay to ever be afraid again. “The trials will begin soon. Erin has agreed to testify in exchange for lesser charges. But the important thing is Erin will face a judge and jury for her crimes. An electronic copy of Pepper's journal was found in her safe-deposit box that backed up everything about Burnette.”

“What about Speaker of the House Randolph?” Lindsay glanced at Chip, worry lines indicating her concern.

“He hasn't been exonerated. Time will tell.”

“Guess I don't trust anyone who was connected to Burnette,” Lindsay said.

“Rightfully so.” Meghan wanted the couple to put the past behind them. But that was impossible. One day at a time. “You two are one brave couple.”

Chip pulled Lindsay closer to him. “We were desperate. Burnette had so many people fooled.”

“When Warrington phoned me that morning in the operation room with the president, I knew he'd put all the pieces together. I should have trusted him from the beginning. When Wade was killed and Burnette insisted you were safest at the ranch, Warrington began his own personal investigation.”

“And you began assigning chess pieces to the whole thing.” Meghan stared up into his handsome face, a face she'd never grow tired of.

“I was the pawn,” Chip said.

Ash nodded. “Pepper became the knight. Erin the queen. Burnette the king. They all believed the end justified the means. But that's not how it works here. Our country has a system, a way to express opinions and possibly change policies without murder and coercion.”

Meghan sighed. “When Burnette's son committed suicide and his wife left him, his grief and bitterness slowly turned to insanity. What began as a noble thought of changing US foreign policy became an obsession with deadly intent.”

“He loved his country,” Ash said. “Wanted to save her from terrorists.”

Chip took a deep breath. “Our country has rallied since the conspiracy was exposed.”

Meghan shook her head. “It could have created national distrust. But the media, despite how I feel about them most of the time, pulled the American people together, especially with Lindsay's willingness to tell her story.”

“Reminds me of my dad—God, country, and the American tradition.” Chip kissed the tip of Lindsay's nose. “Values the Leonard household will continue to uphold.”

Meghan sensed Ash's gaze. Love swelled for his devotion, honesty, and faith.

“The Zinders household will uphold those same traditions.” He smiled, the light of love ever strong in his eyes. This was only the beginning for them, and she couldn't wait to see what the journey from A to Z would hold.

Chapter 1

Librarian Paige Rogers had survived more exciting days dodging bullets to protect her country. Given a choice, she'd rather be battling assassins than collecting overdue fines. For that matter, running down terrorists had a lot more appeal than running down lost books. Oh, the regrets of life—woven with guilt, get-over-its, and move-ons. But do-overs were impossible, and the adventures of her life were now shelved alphabetically under fiction.

Time to reel in my pitiful attitude and get to work.
Paige stepped onto her front porch with what she needed for a full workday at the library. Already, perspiration dotted her face, a reminder of the rising temperatures. Before locking the door behind her, she scanned the front yard and surveyed the opposite side of the dusty road, where chestnut-colored quarter horses grazed on sparse grass. Torrid heat and no rain, as though she stood on African soil. But here, nothing out of the ordinary drew her attention. Just the way she liked it. Needed it.

Sliding into her sporty yet fuel-efficient car, she felt for the Beretta Px4 under the seat. The past could rear its ugly head without warning. Boy Scouts might be prepared; Girl Scouts were trained. The radio blared out the twang of a guitar and the misery of a man who'd lost his sweetheart to a rodeo star. Paige laughed at the irony of it all.

She zipped down the road, her tires crunching the grasshoppers that littered the way before her. In the rearview mirror, she saw birds perched on a barbed wire fence and a few defiant wildflowers. They held on to their roots in the sun-baked dirt the way she clutched hope. The radio continued to croon out one tune after another all the way into the small town of Split Creek, Oklahoma, ten klicks from nowhere.

After parking her car in the designated spot in front of the library, Paige hoisted her tote bag onto her shoulder and grabbed a book about Oklahoma history and another by C. S. Lewis. The latter had kept her up all night, helping her make some sense out of the sordid events of her past. She scraped the grasshoppers from her shoes and onto the curb. The pests were everywhere this time of year. Reminded her of a few gadflies she'd been forced to trust overseas. She'd swept the crusty hoppers off her porch at home and the entrance to the library as she'd done with the shadow makers of the past. But nothing could wipe the nightmares from her internal hard drive.

Her gaze swept the quiet business district with an awareness of how life could change in the blink of an eye. A small landscaping of yellow marigolds and sapphire petunias stretched toward the sky in front of the newly renovated, one-hundred-year-old courthouse. Its high pillars supported a piece of local history . . . and the secrets of the best of families. Business owners unlocked their stores and exchanged morning greetings. Paige recognized most of the dated cars and dusty pickups, but a black Town Car with tinted glass and an Oklahoma license plate parked on the right side of the courthouse caught her attention.

Why would someone sporting a luxury car want to venture into Split Creek, population 1,500? The lazy little town didn't offer much more than a few antique stores, a small library, a beauty shop, Dixie's Donuts, a Piggly Wiggly, four churches—including one First Baptist and one South First Baptist, each at opposite ends of town, one First Methodist, and a holiness tabernacle right beside Denim's Restaurant. She wanted to believe it was an early visitor to the courthouse. Maybe someone lost. But those thoughts soon gave way to curiosity and a twist of suspicion.

With a smile intended to be more appealing than a Fourth of July storefront, she crossed the street to subtly investigate the out-of-place vehicle. Some habits never changed.

Junior Shafer, who owned and operated a nearby antique store, stooped to arrange his outside treasures. Actually, Paige rarely saw an antique on display, just junk and old Avon bottles. “Mornin', Mr. Shafer. Looks like another scorcher.”

“Mornin'. Yep, this heat keeps the customers away.” The balding man slowly stood and massaged his back. “Maybe I'll advertise free air-conditioning and folks will stop in.”

“Whatever works.” She stole a quick glance at the Town Car and memorized the license plate number. No driver. “Looks like you have a visitor.” She pointed to the car.

Mr. Shafer narrowed his eyes and squinted. “Nah, that's probably Eleanor's son from Tulsa. He's helping her paint the beauty shop. She said he had a new car. The boy must be doing fine in the insurance business.”

“Now that's a good son.”

Mr. Shafer lifted his chin, then rubbed it. “Uh, you know, Paige . . . he ain't married.”

“And I'm not looking.” She'd never be in the market for a husband. Life had grown too complicated to consider such an undertaking, even if it did sound enticing.

“A pretty little lady like you should be tending to babies, not books.”

“Ah, but books don't grow up or talk back.”

He shook his head and unlocked his store.

“I have a slice of peach pie for you.” Paige reached inside her tote bag and carefully brought out a plastic container. “I baked it around six this morning. It's fresh.”

He turned back around. A slow grin spread from one generous ear to the other. “You're right. You don't need to go off and get married. I might not get my pies.” He did his familiar shoulder jig. “Thank you, sweet girl.” He reached for the pie with both hands as though it were the most precious thing he'd ever been offered.

The door squeaked open at Shear Perfection.

“Mornin', Eleanor,” Mr. Shafer said. “I see your son's car. Glad he's helping you with the paintin'.”

“That's not my son's.” Miss Eleanor crossed the street, shielding her eyes from the steadily rising sun. “He isn't coming till the weekend.”