Tempting the Devil (27 page)

Now what?

She really didn't want to go home. Her home was no longer a refuge. She suspected her watchers had discovered she was gone. She also suspected Ben would be called.

Would he be there? Demanding to know where she'd gone? Or looking at her with those inquisitor eyes?

She was too tired and heartsore to confront him tonight. She could go to a motel but she suspected she didn't have enough money to pay in cash, and she didn't want to use her credit card.

She started back home, trying to focus on her next step.

More digging. More investigation.

Thoughts roiled in her head. How much time did she have? She had slipped away this time. She didn't think it would be as easy to slip away again. From either the Hydra or the FBI.

She'd almost decided to tell Ben everything before she met with Sandy. Now doubts nagged her. How well did she really know him? She thought she had rightly judged Sandy, but she hadn't.

And if not Ben, could his partner be involved with Hydra? His superior? If she gave them Sandy's name, he could die.

Just as her mentor's source had died. It had destroyed him. She had no doubt it would destroy her as well.

She couldn't take the chance.

The only thing she knew right now was that she couldn't trust anyone.

Ben was furious. Furious with himself. Furious with Robin.

She'd disappeared.

He shouldn't have left earlier. He'd sensed she was planning something, but he knew how badly she hurt. She'd never admitted it to him, but he couldn't help but see the pain in her face when she moved. Anyone else would be flat on their back.

He'd thought he had time to coordinate FBI teams to watch her house. He had resources now that his superior accepted the idea of live bait. He'd hated to do that, but it had been the only way he thought he could get her the protection she needed.

He should have heeded that gleam in her eyes, and the determination that he reluctantly admired.

He'd gone home for a shower and clean clothes, then called his boss's home to tell him about the latest threat to Robin. He was told then to put protection in place.

“The sisters?”

“I'll contact our offices in their cities, but I can't promise anything. You know how shorthanded we are.”

After hanging up, he'd shaved, then prepared to go in to the office when the phone rang. “Wade Carlton,” the voice announced. “I just received a call from the security detail at Robin's home. She's disappeared.”

He wasn't prepared for the way his heart plunged.

“How?”

“She must have planned it. She went over to her neighbor's. The neighbor went out and talked to one of the detail watching the back of her house, allowing Ms. Stuart to leave without being seen.” He paused. “We couldn't have stopped her anyway, but apparently she didn't want to be followed.”

Mrs. Jeffers
!

God, didn't Robin realize yet the danger facing her
?

Or had she gone to persuade her source to release her from the promise?

He could only hope so for her sake.

He could only pray she made it back safely.

How did she get away from trained professionals? Especially with that limp and bruised as she was.

He left his apartment and drove back to her home. Lights were on inside. Two men were standing on the porch. He ignored them and headed toward Mrs. Jeffers's home.

Damien barked frantically as he took the two steps at a leap.

Mrs. Jeffers opened the door.

He tried not to glare at her.

“How good to see you, Agent Taylor.”

He wasn't up to niceties. “Where did she go?”

“I don't know.”

“How?”

“She called a taxi to take her to a car rental place,” she said. “She needed a car.”

“And you agreed to help her?”

“It seemed reasonable. She needed a car.”

He gritted his teeth. “She shouldn't have gone alone.”

She didn't reply.

“What cab company?”

She shook her head. “I didn't ask.”

“The car rental company?”

“I don't know.”

He stared at her with frustration. Then he saw Daisy. “She left the cat with you?” That worried him as much as anything had. Was she afraid she wouldn't return? Damn it.

He turned away and called his office. There were several agents on duty. “Call all the car rental agencies within a four-mile radius of here and see if anyone has rented a car to Robin Stuart. I want to know the model and license number.”

He started pacing the room.

“She's a bright girl. She'll be all right,” Mrs. Jeffers tried to assure him.

“She's an amateur who's playing in the big leagues. I can't seem to make her understand this isn't a television show.”

“I think she knows that,” Mrs. Jeffers said quietly.

He looked at her sharply, his opinions of her shifting. He liked her two days ago but thought she was more than a little eccentric.

Now he realized there was much more to her than he'd thought. Just as there was a lot more to Robin Stuart than he'd thought.

He worried now that he would never know how much more there was.

chapter nineteen

He was sitting under the porch light on her doorstep when Robin returned.

Robin's stomach clenched when she saw Ben Taylor, red-eyed with lines of exhaustion etched around his mouth. She'd been dreading the confrontation since she left the church.

She really needed to hone her skills as a liar. He could see right through her.

He stood as she drove up and parked. She locked the car and tried to ignore the various aches and pains, including her leg, which was stiff and complaining. He visibly stiffened as she approached the door.

“Where in the hell have you been?” His voice was low, almost a whisper, yet the anger in it lashed at her. “It's almost midnight.”

She was too tired and heartsick to be diplomatic. “I didn't realize I had to report to you,” she retorted. “I'm not under arrest. Or am I?”

“Your editor called me. He was worried sick when his so-called protection informed him you were missing.”

“I'm sorry about that, but I'm not used to having every movement monitored.”

She moved ahead and fitted her key into the lock. Despite the anger, her heart pounded at his nearness. She wanted to feel his arms around her, to shoo away the new fears that plagued her and made her blood run cold. But even if he were honest, someone else in the FBI may not be.

She couldn't even ask him about it. What if he
was
the leak?

Too many lives now, including her own, depended on her not making a mistake. She was terrified his mere presence would cause her to make that mistake.

He tried to follow her inside. She didn't give him a chance. She turned to him. “I'm really tired.”

His eyes turned to black ice at the dismissal.

Then he left without another word. She saw him talk to the two guards in front. Then he strode down the street to his car. He glanced back, got into the driver's seat, and drove off.

She stood there for a moment. Had she done the right thing? She didn't know. She just didn't know. But she couldn't trust anyone now.

She went down to where the men stood guard.

“I'm sorry,” she said.

“Next time just let us know,” the older man said. His name was Ted, she remembered.

“I wasn't sure you were the only ones watching.”

“We haven't seen anyone else,” Ted said.

“I hope I didn't get you in trouble. I'll tell my boss it's my fault.”

“Just let us know next time,” Ted repeated with some emphasis.

“If we're still here,” mumbled his partner.

Robin tried a small smile. She might well need them in the future. “I'm really sorry,” she said again. “Can I get you some coffee?”

The two men looked at each other. They had been embarrassed big time. She understood that. Yet she hadn't wanted questions, hadn't wanted anyone to guess what she was about.

“No, ma'am,” he said. “We brought coffee with us.”

Mrs. Jeffers's light was on. Probably anxiously waiting for her to get home, even at this late hour. Robin walked over to her house.

The door opened before she could knock.

“Saw you drive up, dear. Are you all right?”

She nodded.

“Agent Taylor was upset.”

Robin thought that might be an understatement. “I know.”

“He really is a nice young man,” Mrs. Jeffers said. “Even if he is a little … testy sometimes.”

Another understatement.

Daisy meowed plaintively and rubbed her body against Robin's slacks. Robin reached down and picked her up.

“Thanks for keeping her.”

“Anytime, you know that.”

Robin took Daisy home and fed her. She washed her face. Her eyes were as red-ringed as Ben Taylor's had been. She had gotten some sleep the night before because of the painkiller. Yet she knew she couldn't sleep. She kept seeing Ben's face. His anger had been stark. So had frustration. But there had been something else, something like disillusionment.

She poured herself a glass of wine, turned on the classical music station, then went into the bathroom and ran hot water in the bathtub. She didn't think she could sleep without its soothing comfort. Hopefully, it would take some of the stiffness from various abused parts of her body, and soften the hard edges of tonight.

After undressing and thankfully taking off the brace, she sank down in the bath, not bothering to take off the bandages. She would redo those as necessary when she got out. She leaned back, took a sip of wine, and listened to the music, allowing the hot water to soothe the hurting muscles.

Daisy jumped up on the edge of the bathtub and meowed.

Robin didn't want to move, but she knew she must. She pulled the plug, then used her arms to get to the ledge and get out. Then she stood on both legs. No brace. Just legs.

She had tested her bad leg before. A moment now and then in the past two weeks. But she hadn't wanted to push it. Now she did.

It felt good. So very, very good to place equal weight on both legs, to do it without a contraption of metal and leather. She took a step, keeping a hand on the wall and ignoring the crutches she usually used when she'd taken off the brace for the day. Another step.

She hadn't done her exercises in the past few days. Too much had happened. But though a little unsteady, the leg felt good. Solid.

She took a deep breath and slowly walked to the bed. She thought about calling Wade but it was far too late now.
An excuse
. She knew it. She should have called him much earlier but she hadn't been sure what, or how much, to tell him.

Would he and management demand, at this point, that she go to the authorities?

Daisy leaped onto the bed and Robin turned out the light. She was tired, too tired to think, but she also thought she might have trouble sleeping.

She didn't. She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Sunlight streamed through her windows and the telephone jolted her awake.

Heaviness weighed on every move as she reluctantly picked it up.

“'Ello,” she mumbled.

“Robin, this is Mason Parker.” The attorney's voice was clipped. “A subpoena was served to me this morning as your attorney. You're directed to speak to the federal grand jury tomorrow at ten a.m.”

That woke her up. She struggled to sit up. She drew in a breath as her ribs complained about the sudden movement.

“Robin, are you all right?”

“Not exactly,” she said honestly.

“I heard about the explosion.” He paused. “But we have to talk about a statement for the grand jury tomorrow. Can you come in today? Or should I come over?”

How could she say no if he learned she'd been running all over the city last night?

“I planned to come in. Bob Greene and I are writing a story about the attack on me.”

“Just let me know when you get in.”

She looked at the clock. Seven thirty. “I should be there by noon. I have to get a replacement driver's license this morning. Mine was burned in the car explosion.”

“That's fine. Just ring my secretary when you get in.”

“Mr. Parker …”

“Yes?”

“Does it make a difference that the subpoena wasn't served to me personally?”

A pause. Then, “You mean not appearing as ordered?”

Her silence answered the question.

“I told the FBI that everything was to go through me. The service to me is the same as service to you, except the paper is now involved.”

She said good-bye and hung up. She stood, again testing her leg. She wanted to disregard the brace altogether. Maybe she could reschedule the final appointment earlier. Like this week.

Or maybe nothing could be scheduled at all.

Subpoena. Grand jury. Jail. For how long? Weeks? Months? She would have to talk to Mrs. Jeffers about keeping Daisy.

As those thoughts bounced in her brain, she did the much neglected exercises, then went to the kitchen to prepare coffee. Obviously feeling neglected, Daisy darted in and out of her feet.

“You may have to stay with Mrs. Jeffers for several days,” she told the cat, praying it was only several days if at all. Perhaps the federal judge wouldn't force testimony.

Daisy meowed, whether in objection or approval Robin wasn't sure. She gave Daisy a feline treat, and then brewed her coffee.

She turned on the radio and sat down at the table with the coffee and her new disposable cell phone. She took a sip of the coffee, then called Lark, hoping that the music from the radio would mask her words if anyone was listening. She wasn't taking anything for granted today.

Lark answered her call immediately.

“Lark, can you go to a public telephone and call me back on my cell phone?”