Chapter
Eleven

Fear washed over Lauren like a wave. She took an instinctive step backward, and the man’s hand turned, twisting her arm and shooting pain through her wrist. She couldn’t break his grip, but if she screamed and made a scene he would have to release her. Before she could try it he stepped closer.

“If you struggle, I’ll handcuff you. No one will interfere with the arrest of a fugitive,” he whispered harshly.

Her panicked gaze flew past him, searching for Drew.

“Lauren!”

The man turned, saw Drew rushing toward them, and hesitated. In that moment of indecision, his grip eased. Lauren wrenched her wrist free.

She’d taken the man by surprise, but he recovered quickly. He did the only thing he could to stop Drew from tackling him.

The man forcefully hit her in the center of her back, shoving her off balance. Her injured wrist crumpled on impact with the floor of the concourse. She flattened less than gracefully, her stomach smacking the carpet as air rushed out of her lungs.

Drew’s knees hit the floor in front of her nose.

“Son of a bitch! Easy, honey.”

Before she could move, Drew’s hands were on her, gently lifting as he questioned her anxiously about scrapes, sprains, and broken bones.

Lauren shook her head and muttered “no” to everything, not sure if she was telling him that no, she wasn’t hurt, or no, she was not all right. When he wrapped her in his arms she decided it didn’t matter.

“Damn it,” Drew muttered in her hair. She looked up, following his angry glare down the concourse where the fair-haired man had sprinted through a cluster of businessmen and disappeared into the crowd around a boarding gate.

He was gone.

Drew smoothed her hair back. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

The palms of her hands stung, her wrist ached, and her knees burned, but Drew was holding her close against his firm, broad chest. “I’m fine,” she said.

More than fine, but she didn’t say that part. She hadn’t even realized it until he’d asked. But sitting on the floor of the concourse, emotionally shaken and moderately rug-burned, his simple question had made her look inside herself for the answer. It was an odd way to find out just how important he’d become to her, but “fine” only skimmed the surface.

Drew kissed her forehead and pulled her into another fierce, protective hug. He guided her past staring people to the end of the boarding line. Using both hands, he lifted her wrist and examined it closely. Even though the red marks were fading, Drew frowned as he smoothed his fingers over her skin. He probed gently, flexing and massaging, causing her to flinch a couple times but going a long way toward soothing her rattled nerves.

“Nothing broken,” he concluded with obvious relief. “Maybe sprained. Can you move your hand?”

Lauren flopped her hand up and down, testing. “It still works.”

Drew smiled, then pulled his brows together in a worried frown. “I didn’t see the guy well, but that hair—”

“It was him,” she confirmed, shivering at the memory. “The same guy who was in the pictures with Meg. Why would he be here?”

“He’s probably one of the guys following us.”

It was the only logical answer. But it didn’t fit with the suspicions Drew had voiced about the photographs. “I don’t see any reason why one of Meg’s exboyfriends would follow us,” she said, thinking aloud. “I bet those photos really are faked.”

Drew tipped his head, acknowledging the possibility. “Your faith in your sister is touching, honey, but keep in mind he could have seduced her in order to blackmail her. Blackmail seems to be the name of the game for everything that’s been going on.”

Lauren wanted to jump to Meg’s defense, but in truth she was no longer sure just what her sister would do or with whom she would do it.

“Maybe we’re jumping to conclusions,” Drew said. “Just because he had long blond hair doesn’t mean he was Meg’s—” He hesitated. “—partner in those pictures.”

She recalled the man’s perfect features, cold eyes, and emotionless smile. “No, it was him. I saw his face.”

Her revulsion must have shown. “Hey,” Drew said softly, stroking a hand through her hair. His gaze grew tender with concern, and she mentally added that to his list of good qualities. Damn. They were beginning to add up for someone who was just a fling.

He tilted her chin up and smiled. “I guess I should be glad it was his face you were looking at in those pictures.”

“As opposed to?” Then she got it. “Very funny. It’s not like I could have been looking at anything else, since it was usually buried in…”

She broke off, aware of curious glances from a nearby couple. “Never mind,” she muttered.

She was still worried, but Drew’s joking had calmed her, and his arm around her shoulder was reassuring. She snuggled closer as the line inched forward.

He seemed to relax, too, while they boarded the plane and found their seats. As Lauren buckled her seat belt, she felt him watching her, an odd look on his face.

“What?” she asked.

He shook his head and smiled. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

He’d been giving her odd looks like that lately, sometimes so intense she thought he would drag her off for a quickie, and sometimes so preoccupied it was like he wasn’t there at all.

*  *  *

Drew’s mind was wandering again. Somehow his thoughts had gone from worrying about Lauren and how to keep her safe, to envisioning her safe and happy at his Colorado home. Maybe he was just homesick.

Lauren was quiet as she looked out her window. Washington and the eastern seaboard dropped away below them. He spoke gently, reluctant to cause her more worry. “His being there wasn’t a coincidence, you know.”

She nodded, turning a concerned gaze on him. “Do you think he was one of the guys in the hotel parking lot?”

She was surprised when he shook his head. “No. That would be an easy solution, but the clerk at the front desk said two guys with Secret Service ID asked for us. So they were the two guys in the car. Blondie has to be one of the bad guys.”

It was enough to make his head ache. How many people could be following them?

Lauren frowned. “He said he’d handcuff me if I didn’t obey. Doesn’t carrying handcuffs mean he’s someone official?”

“Did he say he was?”

“No.”

“Then he wasn’t. A real agent would have announced who he was. Anyone can buy handcuffs. And he took off as soon as I stepped in. No matter what he said, I don’t think these people want to create a scene. From now on, stay close to me. They won’t try anything if we’re together.”

At least he hoped not. If it was the same guy who’d tried to run them down after the embassy party, he wasn’t adverse to taking risks.

She looked doubtful. “Do you think they’ll follow us to Florida?”

Yes. “Maybe.”

She sighed and turned back to the window.

She wasn’t fearless, but she was brave in spite of her fear. Good. He wouldn’t have to worry that she would be too paralyzed to act quickly if necessary. But he was starting to worry about something else—that this would get a lot more dangerous. They were making someone very nervous.

Lauren’s spirits improved when they landed in Fort Myers and discovered the weather was a sunny eighty-five degrees.

“Let’s ask the rental company if we can get a convertible,” Lauren said.

The sparkle in her eyes made him smile. “I don’t know. That sounds pretty impractical.”

He’d been teasing, but she looked surprised. “Yeah, it is. Can we do it anyway?”

He laughed. “Honey, we can do whatever you want.”

Her brilliant smile sent an arrow right into his heart.

As the day went on, his elevated mood persisted. He’d been cautious and alert, but hadn’t spotted anyone following as they wandered around the airport and lingered over lunch. No doubt someone would catch up with them later. And if Agent Chapman decided to waste Secret Service money by sending some flunky to tail them around southwest Florida, he’d consider it added protection. He wouldn’t let it interfere with the pleasure of being with Lauren.

He had her to himself for the next day and night. Drew found himself humming under his breath while he waited for Lauren outside the ladies’ room at the car rental agency. He recognized it as one of the tunes they’d danced to at the embassy party. The music seemed to have gotten stuck in his head, but he didn’t mind. For a hunted man, he felt incredibly carefree.

Still humming, he checked his cell phone for messages: one. Punching in the retrieval code, he expected to hear Gerald’s voice, but the angry growl in his ear was far too low to belong to his father’s assistant.

“Goddamn it, Creighton, call me.”

Agent Chapman. Drew dialed and waited for the familiar snarl on the other end.

“Creighton, I told you to stay put.”

“Yes, you did,” Drew answered pleasantly.

His cheerfulness didn’t help Chapman’s attitude. “Did you hear from your father?”

“No.”

“Because if you did, and you two idiots are trying to handle this on your own—”

“Relax, Chapman. I said no. We’re tracking down a lead.”

“What lead?”

“I’d rather not say. It’s based on a rumor, and it’s highly personal. Politically sensitive information.”

“Oh, I see. You wouldn’t want the Secret Service to hear something like that.” Sarcasm practically dripped from the phone.

“Glad you agree.” As much as he enjoyed jerking Chapman’s chain, he couldn’t blame the man for being angry. No one was as privy to the private lives of politicians, and as discrete about it, as the Secret Service. Grudgingly, Drew threw him a bone.

“If it turns out to be true, you’ll be the first to know. I just want to check it out.”

A few seconds of silence followed, during which Chapman was probably seething and kicking puppies. Drew’s gaze was distracted by Lauren as she exited the ladies’ room and walked toward him. Long, shapely legs moved in a provocative rhythm, and her hips swayed sensuously beneath her new sundress. Allowing Lauren time to change into her new clothes had been well worth the delay.

He kissed her cheek and lifted a finger.

“Chapman? You still there?”

“Yeah,” the gruff voice rumbled. “Listen, Creighton. We found that bank employee who deposited the bribe money.”

It could be the break they were looking for. “Excellent! Did he tell you who put him up to it?”

“He couldn’t. We fished him out of the Potomac last night. Took a bullet to the head, execution style.”

He tried not to let Lauren see the panic that twisted his gut into knots. “Shit.”

“Yeah. These guys aren’t playing nice and you’re out there taking too many chances. Just tell me where you are.”

“You know where we are. You followed us.”

“The hell I did. How important do you think you are, Creighton?”

Despite the warm sun, an icy tendril wormed its way down Drew’s spine. Keeping his voice calm, he asked, “You didn’t have anyone follow us to the hotel and the airport?”

“What? The airport? Hell, no. I can’t spare agents to follow some dumbass civilian when I’ve got a U.S. senator missing and possibly in danger. Are you telling me you left Washington?”

Drew sucked in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “We’re in Florida. Two men were watching our car in the hotel parking lot. I thought they were your boys.”

The anger was suddenly gone, and Chapman’s tone was clipped and professional. “How do you know someone was watching your car?”

“I didn’t go down and ask them, but two guys sat in a black Ford for a couple hours this morning with a clear view of our car.”

“Your car. That would be the Volvo?”

Drew thought he detected a bit of taunting behind the question. “Yeah, congratulations, you caught me. Forget the car. Who were the two guys, Chapman?”

“Did you get a plate?”

“No.” Damn. “I didn’t think I had to. The guy at the front desk said they flashed Secret Service ID.”

Drew listened to a couple seconds of silence before Chapman responded. “I don’t know, but I’ll look into it.”

It was all he was going to get for now. “Make it quick,” Drew said, then broke the connection and shoved the phone in his pocket. Having an unidentified tail in addition to the blond guy was worrisome. And if the two guys were Secret Service, wouldn’t Chapman know about it?

“What’s wrong?” Lauren asked.

“Nothing. Agent Chapman doesn’t know who was watching us at the hotel. It’s probably just a couple of low-level agents his boss sicced on us without telling him. He’s going to find out, just to put my mind at ease.” He downplayed it, satisfied that he wasn’t lying.

She watched him closely. “You wouldn’t be one of those guys who’d keep stuff from the little lady as part of some misguided protective instinct, would you?”

Drew smiled. He didn’t want her to worry, but he liked that she read him so well. “Yes, I would.”

“That’s sweet. Don’t do it, okay?”

He considered carefully before nodding. “Okay.”

“Is there anything else you’re not telling me for my own good?”

He hesitated, then said it. “They found the bank employee. Dead.”

She swallowed, then nodded. “Anything else?”

“No.”

“Is the car ready?”

Drew tossed her the keys. “Red, like you wanted. It’s over there.”

She turned, the first hint of a smile returning to her face. It might be forced, but he was glad to see it.

He hadn’t wanted to tell her about the murdered bank employee. He hadn’t wanted to cause those worry lines on her forehead as she steered the car onto Daniels Parkway. But he respected her need to know the truth. The Mustang convertible couldn’t take away the worry, but for a short time he could at least pretend they were carefree. He relaxed in the passenger seat, enjoying his view of Lauren as much as he enjoyed the hot Florida sun on his bare arms.

An hour later they were on Sanibel, cruising slowly past Senator McNabb’s front gates for the third time. With a security fence and heavy vegetation screening the house, they couldn’t see much more than the garage. But at least no one in the house could see the red Mustang prowling back and forth either.

A man they assumed to be the senator’s husband had loaded up golf clubs and driven off earlier. Ideally, they should talk to Senator McNabb while her husband was gone, but she still wasn’t alone. For the past hour, two teenage boys had been hanging out near the open garage, washing a Jeep Cherokee and cleaning its interior.

Lauren smacked her hand on the steering wheel. “Why didn’t we think of this? I pictured her being alone down here. Naturally, her family would be here, this is their home. How can we talk to her while they’re around?”

“Awkward.” Drew agreed. “‘Hello, Mr. McNabb. Is your wife at home? We’d like to speak with her about her marital infidelities. Won’t take but a minute.’ That would put him off his golf game for sure.”

“Damn, those boys are meticulous. Must be picking up a couple girls,” Drew added, admiring the clean Jeep as the boys finally started the SUV.

“Well, I hope they get out of here it’s soon. We can’t keep cruising around like this. Someone’s going to get suspicious.”

“We can say we’re checking out property, considering buying a vacation condo.”

“In my dreams.”

Lauren parked a quarter mile down the road, where Drew pretended to consult a map. Ten minutes later, the two boys blew past them in the shiny black Jeep.

“About time,” he said, folding the map. “Let’s go.”

Lauren pulled a U-turn and drove back, slowing as she neared the senator’s property. The tall iron gates had just come into view when they swung open, and a small station wagon pulled out with two women in the front seat. Drew craned his neck to see the logo on the driver’s door.

“Gulf Breeze Clean,” he read aloud. “Looks like the cleaning service is done for the day. That makes the husband gone with his golf clubs, at least one kid gone with his friend, and the maid service gone. I say we try our luck.”

Lauren nodded and pulled up to the imposing black gates, now closed again.

“Press the button on the call box,” Drew instructed, moving as close to her and the speaker as the gear shift allowed.

“We should have switched places,” she said, leaning back in the bucket seat to give him room.

Drew braced an arm on the dash and edged closer to her side. “I like it better this way.” It was actually damned uncomfortable, but worth the risk of impaling himself on the gear shift in order to brush against Lauren’s breast and inhale the scent of suntan lotion rising from her warm skin.

“Yes?”

The tinny static from the box was marginally better than a fast food drive-up. Drew spoke loudly.

“Drew Creighton to see Senator McNabb.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No. I’m here on urgent, personal business. Tell her I’m Senator Creighton’s son.”

“One moment, please.”

He shifted position while he waited, rubbing against Lauren breast.

She smiled. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Yes, thanks. Are you?”

“You’re insatiable,” she said, pursing her lips in a way probably meant to look prudish. It made him want to tug her pouty lower lip into his mouth and run his tongue over it.

He dropped his eyelids seductively and murmured, “You’re right, I am,” just to watch the flush spread up her neck to her cheeks. Damn, he loved it when she blushed like that. It made him want to lock them both in a bedroom for a week and—

The box rattled to life. “I’m sorry, Mr. Creighton. Senator McNabb is unable to see you.”

“What?” He’d assumed his father’s name would arouse the lady’s curiosity, if not outright concern. “Tell her it has to do with my father’s recent marriage,” he said, then added pointedly, “And with his rather sudden departure from Washington.” If she was the one who had been blackmailed, she would have to know he was referring to the Secret Service sting operation.

This time only a few seconds passed before the man’s fuzzy voice replied, “Senator McNabb sends her congratulations on Senator Creighton’s marriage, but she is not available at this time.”

The pause had been too brief for the man to have left to consult Senator McNabb. She was either beside him, listening, or her security man was making presumptive decisions for her. Drew gambled on the former.

They’d risked their own safety to track her down and he wasn’t leaving without seeing her. If Paul Pierson was wrong about Senator McNabb having a secret worth protecting, she wouldn’t respond to threats. But if she was the one who’d been blackmailed, he had to talk his way inside those gates.

In a hard voice, he said, “Tell her it’s about some highly sensitive personal information she gave my father. Tell her I’d prefer to discuss it with her, but if she’s unavailable I will be glad to question other government officials about the matter in order to confirm—”

The box crackled with a staticky, “The senator will see you, Mr. Creighton.” The gates began their slow swing inward.

Lauren sucked in a breath and looked at him with pain in her eyes. “It is her,” she whispered. “How awful for her.”

“Thank you,” Drew muttered to the box and eased back to his side of the car. He slumped in the bucket seat. “I have a feeling we’re not going to receive a warm welcome.”

Drew’s prediction was an understatement.

They sat on a patio behind the house, sipping lemonade and watching the Gulf of Mexico roll onto the senator’s white sandy beach for nearly fifteen minutes before the woman appeared.

Drew stood to shake her hand, suffering a cool stare and an even cooler hello.

“Thank you for seeing us, Senator McNabb,” he said.

Sharp brown eyes assessed him. “I agreed to see you as a courtesy to your father, who is a friend and colleague.”

He understood; she would not concede without proof. “Senator, this is Lauren Sutherland. Her sister is—”

“Meg Sutherland, Harlan’s secretary. A charming young woman.” Charlene McNabb tilted her head as she shook Lauren’s hand, her short hair gleaming in several expertly tinted shades of blonde. “But I suppose I should refer to Meg as Harlan’s wife now.”

“No, you shouldn’t.”

Lauren’s soft reply seemed to startle Senator McNabb. She studied Lauren as they settled back into chairs under the filtered shade of the patio umbrella. “Why shouldn’t I?” she asked carefully.

Drew closed his hand over Lauren’s and answered for her. “Because they aren’t really married. But you already know that.”

The senator’s piercing gaze shifted to him. “What makes you say that?”

This was where things got messy. He pinned her with a hard stare, willing to be as blunt as necessary. “You’re the one who went to my father with a story about blackmail, so naturally you would know that his marriage was a ruse. You know he and Meg announced their marriage in order to draw whoever had blackmailed you into another attempt. My father must consider you a good friend, Senator, if he was willing to put his reputation in jeopardy to save yours.”

Something flickered in the steady brown eyes, but her lips remained pressed tightly together. He’d told her what she already knew, and she didn’t intend to admit to it. It was what she didn’t know that might get her to talk.

“The Secret Service was supposed to catch whoever tried to blackmail them, but it didn’t work. Something went wrong.”

Her eyebrows jumped with a tiny twitch. “What went wrong?”

“We don’t know. But the story about my dad and Meg leaving on a honeymoon was obviously a diversion. They ran from both the blackmailers and the Secret Service, and we don’t know why. They’re even hiding from us to keep us safe. Except it’s not working. We started asking questions, and two nights ago someone tried to run us down and kill us.”

That seemed to crack her composure a little. “Perhaps if you would just let the Secret Service do its job—”

“I’d love to, Senator, but the Secret Service doesn’t know where they are or why they disappeared. And more important, they don’t know where to look for answers, because my dad refused to give them your name.”

She did a credible job of looking skeptical. “Are you saying he gave it to you?”

“No, he didn’t. Someone else did.”

That one shook her. Senator McNabb whispered, “Someone else told you I was being blackmailed?” She swallowed and made her voice stronger. “Who?”

“I’d rather not—”

Lauren squeezed his fingers. “She needs to know,” she said before turning to Senator McNabb. “Senator Pierson told us there were rumors about you and another man.”

The senator’s face crumpled and Drew watched her break. As a seasoned politician, Senator McNabb would know how to draw on composure she didn’t feel, but it required a coolness that seemed to have escaped her. She closed her eyes tightly as if in pain. “I hoped it would never… I didn’t think anyone would…” Senator McNabb’s hoarse voice failed altogether.

“I’m sorry,” Drew told her gently, knowing that the woman was seeing her political and personal future going down in flames. As sleazy as it made him feel, he leaned forward and spoke intently, determined to push his advantage. “Please understand why we are here. You were the first target. We’re hoping you know something that will help us find out who’s doing this before there are any more victims.”

And before they kill us. He didn’t say it because she was already nodding dully.

Adding the only reassurance he could, Drew said, “We have no interest in making this public, Senator, and rumors are only that. They don’t have to destroy you. Believe me, if you know anything about my father, you know he has survived several unsavory escapades.”

Her smile was bittersweet. “I am not Harlan Creighton. I’m a woman. A married woman who stands for family values and morality in government. The public will not forgive me.” Her voice broke. “I don’t deserve forgiveness.”

He couldn’t respond, couldn’t judge her, and couldn’t reassure her. He also didn’t know how to get useful information while Charlene McNabb floundered in self-pity.

Lauren’s fingers slipped away from his and Lauren leaned forward, her feminine concern all but dismissing him from the conversation.

“Senator, I don’t know how this happened, but I don’t believe you would be careless enough to risk exposure. Do you have any idea how someone obtained photographs of your… affair?”

Charlene McNabb sank back in her chair and covered her face with her hands, shaking her head as she spoke. “No. I don’t know. I can’t believe it happened. It wasn’t even an affair. It was a spontaneous thing, just one night, while I was on vacation in the Bahamas.” She raised her eyes in a pleading look. “I don’t even know his last name, and I know he doesn’t know mine. I lied about it.” She clenched her eyes shut and pounded her fists onto the table. “God, I sound so pathetic. I don’t understand this. I swear there’s no way anyone could have known, much less taken those pictures.” She choked up.

Drew hardly dared breathe while Lauren gave the senator several seconds to collect herself.

“Who was he?” Lauren asked.

Senator McNabb shook her head. “I don’t know. Just a guy on vacation. He approached me at the bar. We talked, and he invited me to have dinner with him. I was there alone, feeling sorry for myself because my husband… well, we’d been having difficulties over our careers, with both of us being out of town a lot and the kids acting out, needing more supervision.” She waved her hand as if brushing aside her concerns. “We were working it out. But I was angry, feeling rejected, and Tony was so sympathetic, so understanding.”

Senator McNabb took a deep breath and seemed to make an effort to pull herself together. Her back straightened and her expression grew determined. “I have no excuse. I was vulnerable, but I knew what I was doing. But those pictures… I’ve thought about nothing else for the past month. And as impossible as it seems, I can only conclude that I was set up.”

Drew couldn’t suppress his sudden flare of interest. “What do you mean?”

“It’s not like we were out on a beach. We were in his hotel room. Blinds closed, door double-locked—I was rational enough to be paranoid about being recognized. Yet there were pictures. It had to have been a hidden camera.”

For one swift second he caught Lauren’s glance and knew they were both recalling the pictures of Meg. “Were the photos high quality? Like they were professionally done?”

She shook her head. “No, the room was dim. They were just clear enough that you could tell it was me. Why?”

“Never mind, it doesn’t matter.” Maybe it didn’t, he couldn’t sort it all out now.

“Did you ever hear from Tony again?” Lauren asked.

“No. I didn’t even stay the night, I was so ashamed of what I’d done. And like I said, he didn’t know my real name. At least, I didn’t think he did.” She laughed, a bitter, harsh sound. “I’m not even sure I know his. I remember I laughed when he told me it was Tony, because it didn’t fit. Tony sounds so stereotypically Italian, that dark, olive-skinned look, you know? But he was so fair and blond, almost Nordic.”

Drew felt his skin go cold despite the clammy Florida heat and knew from Lauren’s wide eyes that she felt the same thing. Her voice was weak when she asked, “Did he have long, straight hair? About to here?” She indicated a line just above her collar.

Senator McNabb looked surprised, then suspicious. “Yes. How did you know that?”

“There are similar pictures,” Lauren said, her voice shaky. “Of my sister and… and a man of that description.”

Color drained from Senator McNabb’s face. “Oh my God.” Drew saw her hands tighten into white-knuckled fists and felt the same tense response in his gut. “For them to have planned that… my trip to the Bahamas was a last-second decision. Someone had to have known my schedule, followed me, have the whole seduction planned in advance.” To her credit, she didn’t waste much time on self-pity. “If they were that organized, this could be huge. And dangerous.” She turned her gaze back to him. “Are you aware of what they used those pictures for, Mr. Creighton?”

“I know you were asked to vote a certain way to keep the pictures secret.”

“Yes, I was told to vote against my party’s position on the offshore drilling bill.” She paused, shame obvious in her flushed cheeks and downcast eyes. “God help me, I did. It passed by four votes, close but far more than anyone expected.” She looked up. “It wasn’t expected to pass. Do you see? With that margin I thought my vote didn’t matter, that it would have passed anyway, but how many of those four votes were coerced like mine was?”

Drew didn’t have to be in politics to understand the enormity of what she was suggesting. New laws, appropriations, taxes—all were decided by the House and Senate. Many passed by only a few votes. If someone gained control of more votes, whole political agendas could be changed.

One powerful person, with enough political blackmail behind him, could control the course of the country. One powerful, corrupt person.

“Who wanted the offshore drilling bill passed?” he asked grimly.

“All of the opposing party pushed for it, but it was the president’s baby.” Senator McNabb watched Drew’s shocked response and shook her head, following his thoughts. “No, it can’t be him. I don’t agree with the president’s agenda, but I know and respect the man. I’m certain he’d never be involved in something so immoral.”

Drew didn’t argue, but he couldn’t help recalling the evil glare and snide remarks Lauren had received at the Romanian embassy. The president’s domestic advisor had not bothered to conceal her disdain for both Meg and Harlan Creighton. Even if the president were too principled to have done it, that didn’t rule out any of the ambitious sycophants he employed.

Drew’s mind whirled with scenarios of presidential advisors sneaking around Washington, luring senators into sexual traps, then forcing them to vote for the president’s pet programs. It was a plot far beyond the scope of Watergate, and he couldn’t believe it. For one thing, it was too complex. To break into Mihaly’s apartment, trail Senator McNabb to the Bahamas, and deliver the blackmail photos to Meg and his dad right under the nose of the Secret Service all required incredible resources. And skill. And inside information. Almost like the Secret Service itself.

Drew stiffened.

It was so obvious. Why hadn’t he seen it sooner?

He stood abruptly, pulling a surprised Lauren up with him. “I’m sorry, Senator McNabb, but we must be going. Don’t worry, your name won’t come up. I’ll do my best to see that this doesn’t affect your career.”

The senator’s mouth pulled into a tight, regretful smile. “Thank you, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll be resigning my seat.”

“No, please don’t make a hasty decision—” Drew began.

“I’m not. I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I have to leave. Those pictures will be used against me again and again, and I refuse to violate my office and my constituents by voting against my conscience again. I’ll be resigning when the Senate resumes session next week.”

At their stunned looks, she shook her head wearily. “It’s not your fault. If they want to use the pictures to destroy my marriage, they can try. That’s my problem. But I won’t let my mistakes influence the course of domestic and foreign policy. I hope Harlan and Meg are okay, and I’m sorry I couldn’t help.”

“But you did,” Drew told her.

“I did? I don’t understand.”

He wasn’t going to explain until he had proof. “If I learn anything, I’ll keep you informed, Senator McNabb. Thank you for seeing us.” He hustled Lauren toward the walk that led around the house to the driveway.

As soon as they rounded the corner and plunged into the senator’s landscaped jungle of banyan trees and flowering hibiscus, Lauren tugged at his arm. “Will you please tell me what in the world is going on?”

Drew looked around, then pulled her into the deep green shade of a tree, sending several small lizards scurrying up its branches. As isolated as they seemed on the shaded path, Drew no longer trusted his sense of security. He leaned close to Lauren’s ear.

“We have to return to Washington as soon as possible. I think we’d better call Mihaly, too,” he said, grimacing at the thought.

Lauren lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Why?”

“Because I know why Dad and Meg disappeared. I just figured out who tried to blackmail them.”

“Who?”

Even saying it aloud seemed dangerous. Instead, he put a finger to his lips and asked for the car keys.

When he was behind the wheel, squealing the tires as he sped out of the senator’s driveway, he told her.

He knew she heard him over the noise because she stared in disbelief. “The Secret Service? That’s impossible!”

“No, it isn’t.”

“How can the Secret Service possibly be blackmailing senators? They’re the ones who set up the sting in the first place.”

“Some of them did,” he corrected. “But I think some others, maybe only one or two, pulled off this blackmail scheme. Think about it. Why else would my dad and Meg run from the Secret Service? They must have figured out who was behind it, and didn’t know who to trust.”

“How? How did they figure it out?” She frowned, obviously not convinced. And she wasn’t blinded enough by love to believe him without proof.

The idea that Lauren might love him was intriguing, and worth exploring, but not now.

“I can’t be sure how they figured it out. Maybe it was the blond guy in the photos. Maybe my dad recognized him.” Anticipating Lauren’s objection, he added, “Or if the pictures were faked, maybe Meg recognized him. Anyway, the timing fits. Chapman said an envelope was delivered to them just before they ran. I agree with him that it had to be the photos. Realizing who the blond guy was would have been enough to spook them into disappearing. He’s got to be Secret Service. It’s the only reason they would run from the people who were supposed to protect them.”

He dug the cell phone out of his pocket and handed it to Lauren. “Here, the airline’s number is in the directory. See if we can get on a flight back to D.C. today.”

She looked worried as she dialed, so he knew she was at least partially convinced. With the phone to her ear, Lauren asked, “Why would the Secret Service care about how anyone voted on the offshore drilling bill?”

“They wouldn’t. It’s not the agents, it’s whoever they’re working for,” he told her grimly. “Senator McNabb swore it couldn’t be the president. But those agents have to be doing this on behalf of someone, someone who cares about the outcome of that bill.”

That was the missing piece of the puzzle. Who had the most to gain by passing that legislation? Drew didn’t keep up with politics well enough to know. His father’s office staff might be helpful, but he didn’t want to involve more people, especially people he didn’t know. But Senator Pierson was already involved, and he would know who would benefit.

While Lauren spoke to the airline, Drew devised a plan. He was so lost in thought, he hadn’t even noticed the sedan that zoomed up from behind and shot out on their left until it was beside them. It was too close. Drew swerved sharply to the right. The Mustang fishtailed, tires sliding on the crushed shells and sand of the shoulder, throwing up stones that banged against the windshield and sheet metal. Drew swore, fighting the wheel. The car rocked to a stop as the speeding sedan roared past more cars until it was out of sight.

“Goddamned freakin’ idiot, he could get someone killed!” He looked at Lauren, who was rubbing her shoulder. “Are you all right?” He undid his seat belt and gently grabbed her arm, turning her toward him.

“I’m fine, I just bumped my shoulder on the door, and dropped the phone. Did you see where it went?”

Her eyes searched the floor but it was something else that grabbed Drew’s attention. Gazing past Lauren, he stared at three neat, round holes in the passenger door and glove box.

A chill swept over him. The banging sound had been bullets, not stones. He swore again, his grip inadvertently tightening on Lauren’s shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” She followed his gaze, looking at the holes in confusion, then dawning horror. Her voice was weak. “They shot at us?” She turned to him, eyes clear gray and wide with fear. “Why?”

The terror in her gaze sent a hot bolt of anger ripping through his gut.

“Maybe because we’re getting too close to the truth.”

Wedged between Lauren’s seat and the center console, Drew spotted the cell phone. He called 911, reporting the shooting in terse words, and hung up only when he heard approaching sirens.

White and shaken, Lauren watched him. The urgent need to pull her into his arms left him frustrated—the damn gear shift was in the way. He held her hand, keeping her cold fingers wrapped in a reassuring grip, no longer questioning the part of him that knew he would never let go of her.

Or the sobering realization that went with it: He’d brought her here, exposed her to this. This was his fault. His first responsibility was to get her to safety.

“Were you able to get us on a flight to Washington tonight?” he asked.

She nodded, then found her voice. “Yes.”

“Good.” In Washington, he could make sure she was safe.

From the opposite direction, a squad car raced toward them down the center line. “When we’re done here, I’m going to make sure we get an escort back to the airport. As soon as we do, call Mihaly and have him meet us at the airport. I don’t care how late it is.”

“Okay. But why?”

“Because he’s the only one who knows what he’s doing with this spy business, and he doesn’t have conflicting allegiances. I’m sure he doesn’t give a damn about the Secret Service; he only cares about Meg.”

As the squad car did a U-turn behind them, he glanced at Lauren. She wasn’t going to like this. “There is one problem.”

“What?” she asked cautiously.

“If we want him to believe us, we’re going to have to tell him how we made the connection with the Secret Service. We have to tell him about the photos of Meg and the blond guy.”