Conversation died off in the kitchen. Heads turned her way. All but Mitch’s. Trying not to focus too much on that fact, and realizing she was wearing the same clothes she’d had on last night, Simone inwardly cringed, then told herself not to be so damn self-conscious. “Sorry. I didn’t realize how late it was.”
“Not that late.” Kate pushed out of her chair, crossed the room, and gave Simone a quick hug. “It’s barely nine. The guys all just rolled out of bed.”
All but Mitch, Simone wanted to say. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she was confident he’d left sometime in the middle of the night, not this morning. And that fact only sent her nerves higher.
“You obviously needed the sleep.” Kate let go of Simone and glanced over her shoulder. “Kendrick, don’t just stand there, get the poor girl something to drink.”
“That woman is so domineering,” Kendrick mumbled to Ryan. “And you like that? Dude, you’re more twisted than I thought.”
Ryan shot his wife a heated look, chuckled, then went back to flipping bacon.
Kate returned to her laptop, and Kendrick crossed the kitchen, then handed Simone a bubbling orange champagne flute. “Guaranteed to cure whatever ails you. My secret is really good champagne.”
“Getting girls drunk is Kendrick’s specialty,” Ryan said from the kitchen. “Be careful.”
Kendrick winked at Simone, then turned back for the kitchen, fixing a shocked look on his handsome face. “I’m hurt you think that. I’ll have you know women get drunk on my charm and good looks when they’re with me, not alcohol.”
“Charm and good looks,” Ryan repeated, flipping another piece of bacon. “Uh-huh. And the fact you’re a rock star and that alcohol’s always flowing freely everywhere you go has nothing to do with it.”
“Hey. I can’t help it if people want to buy me drinks all the time. Besides, you know I have my limits. I barely touch the stuff.”
“No kidding,” Ryan said, moving bacon to a paper-towel-lined plate. “So instead you’re passing it to the poor groupies who follow you around like puppy dogs.”
A one-sided grin tugged at Kendrick’s mouth. “That’s not exactly a crime.”
“It is if you’re a parent. You ever pull that with my daughter, and you’ll find out just how much of a crime.”
Kendrick cringed. “Julia’s, like, eight.”
“Ten.”
“Going on twenty-five,” Kate interjected from the table.
“Right,” Ryan said, pinning Kendrick with a look and pointing the fork in his hand Kendrick’s way. “And God only knows why, but she’s got a thing for you, so stop pushing alcohol on poor unsuspecting girls.”
Kendrick turned wide blue eyes Simone’s way. “Am I the only one who thinks these people are nuts? I may need to hire your services soon, angel. Drink up. It’s also a cure for the crazies.”
Simone wanted to laugh but couldn’t. Too much uncertainty weighed on her mind. Glancing down at the tempting beverage in her hand, she wishing a little alcohol would so easily solve her problems. She knew it wouldn’t.
“Here,” a quiet voice said at her side. “I’ll trade you.”
She looked down at the steaming mug of coffee Mitch was holding out, then up to his face. He hadn’t shaved in days, and what used to be scruff was turning into a dark beard with just a hint of red. His shaggy, too long hair was curling near his ears and the nape of his neck, and she itched to run her fingers through the soft locks, but couldn’t bring herself to reach for him. Especially not when she saw his eyes. Not smiling and warm like they’d been when he was flirting with her on their hike. Not sparkling like they’d been the night she’d come home from DC. But unsure, contemplative, and wary. All the things they’d been last night after they’d made love—correction, had sex. All the things she felt right this very minute.
“Um. Thanks.”
She handed him the flute and took the coffee he offered instead, wrapping her hands around the warmth, hoping it would infuse her with strength. She really needed to talk to him, but this wasn’t the time, and though she’d spilled her feelings and shortcomings to him last night, she wasn’t about to do it in front of the entire group.
Mitch went back into the kitchen, crossed to the toaster, and started popping bread into the machine. Kendrick had pulled out a pan and was busily scrambling eggs. Not wanting to get in their way, Simone took her coffee to the table and slid into a chair next to Kate. “What are you doing?”
“Research.”
“On what?”
Kate bit her lip, then sighed and muttered, “Screw it.” Turning the laptop so Simone could see, she pointed to the article in the New York Times she’d been reading. “Senator Dobbs isn’t as squeaky clean as his campaign’s making him out to be.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s been involved in several shady business dealings that all raise questions about his affiliations, loyalties, and who he’s really serving, the people or himself.”
Simone’s eyes narrowed as she scanned the article. “Politicians are constantly being plagued with those questions. Doesn’t change anything.”
“True, but most of them aren’t chairman of one of the most elite fraternal organizations in the country. One with ties to creating the whole New World Order. And none of them have a dead reporter linked to a story about their campaign. The same week you were threatened and Mitch’s house was shot up.”
Kate flipped screens, and another article popped up.
“It’s been all over the press,” Kate went on. “Have you seen it?”
Simone swallowed and shook her head.
“Basically, media outlets are spinning the story, saying the reporter suffered from depression and alcoholism, and that the stress of the industry got to be too much for her. But a few online sites have made a connection between her death and a story she did linking Dobbs to Cypher and Dagger, and the death of a member who supposedly had dirt that could ruin Dobbs’s political career. The article doesn’t name the member in question, but it says he testified against key members of the organization eleven years before, then disappeared into witness protection, and then mysteriously died himself in questionable circumstances.”
Simone stared at the screen. The background was black, the words white, making it hard to read, and the graphics were cheesy and cheap, marking it clearly as one of those conspiracy theorist sites. But she knew without seeing names they were talking about Steve. Somehow, this reporter had tracked him down, and that meant Simone had been right not to trust the US marshals and WITSEC.
“The article also mentions political strife within the Cypher organization,” Kate went on. “Which means if Steve really does have something that could bring Dobbs down, and if you’ve got it, then there’s a chance you could find a way out of this mess without turning to WITSEC or running on your own.”
Simone’s pulse beat fast. “If I have it, and I don’t even know what it is yet, that doesn’t solve my problem.”
“Yes, it does.”
Simone turned to look over her shoulder. Ryan had flipped off the griddle and was leaning against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Cut off the head, and the body dies. I looked at everything Katie found this morning. According to these articles, there’s a whole portion of the Cypher membership that doesn’t want Dobbs to become president. If he falls, they’re not going to stand behind him. They’re gonna run from any association with him. Which means they won’t touch you.”
Could it be that easy? Simone looked back at the screen. But even as she thought the words, she knew the answer was a lot more complicated. “I don’t even know what Steve had that they could possibly want.”