“Does it matter?”
“I…no.” And it really didn’t. She was curious about the change in plans but didn’t care either way. The weapons legislation was one of the primary items on Ratman’s agenda for her, so as far as she was concerned, accelerating the announcement just meant she was another step closer to freedom and further away from this complicated existence. She hung up the phone and headed to the massive closet.
“Focus on the prize,” Ryden said aloud as she plucked a coral-colored blazer-and-skirt ensemble from the rack of designer suits. “Nothing else matters.”
*
Shield received an early, terse call from the president, notifying her of a change in the day’s agenda. Thomas was skipping breakfast and would be starting her day with an unscheduled meeting with Kenneth Moore in a half hour.
When the president emerged from her bedroom right on schedule, Shield, waiting outside in the hall, tried not to look at Thomas’s mouth. “Good morning.”
“About last night…I’m not a big drinker.”
“I gathered.” Shield smiled.
“No offense, the wine was exceptional,” Thomas rubbed her right temple with two fingers, “but I woke up with a horrible headache.”
“Like you said, you’re not a drinker.” Shield stood with her hands clasped behind her back. For someone with a headache, Thomas looked beautiful, almost radiant. She’d done her hair and makeup herself, and chosen an ensemble that was tailored to subtly accentuate her slim hips and high, round breasts. “If it’s any consolation, you seem…rested.”
Thomas looked away. “I don’t know what possessed me to enter your room and take your wine.”
“You needed to unwind. No harm done.”
“Anyway,” Thomas said with an air of flippancy, “I can’t remember very much about last night, so if I said or did anything to offend you, please forgive me and forget I was there. I can assure you, it wasn’t personal and it won’t happen again.”
“I’m not thrilled about having my room raided, but that aside, you didn’t say or do anything unpleasant.” She unwittingly focused her gaze on Thomas’s lush, full lips, glossy with a coral lipstick that complemented the color of her suit.
“Good to know.” Thomas sounded relieved. “I’ve witnessed inebriated people make complete fools of themselves.”
Did the president really not remember their conversation, or kissing her? “That may be true, but alcohol also enhances any preexisting mood.”
“Either way…” Thomas waved her hand dismissively. “It’s all a crazy blur. So again, forgive me if I did anything to offend you.”
Shield knew she should leave last night alone and feel glad for Thomas’s memory loss, but she couldn’t and didn’t. Instead, she took a step closer to the president, and as she did, she unplugged the communications device in her sleeve so they wouldn’t be overheard. “There was nothing offensive about your kiss.”
Thomas blushed and looked away. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I know you remember.”
“Then you also know I’m trying to deny any recollection.”
“So you remember.”
“I don’t understand you.” Thomas sounded angry. “You vehemently point out every reason in the world why we need to keep it professional, and then you turn around and seek confirmation of my attraction to you. Are you after validation, a need for acceptance, or some sadomasochistic satisfaction?”
Shield stared at her, unable to answer. Thomas was right, and she didn’t honestly know what she was after or why she felt the need to bring up that kiss. She’d always been professional at work and, after Carmen, distant in her private life and relations. As a rule, she didn’t care who remembered her and wasn’t out to make a lasting impression, but for some reason Thomas’s opinion mattered.
She’d struggled all night with how Thomas’s frustration had led to her uncharacteristic confession of what she needed in a woman, and she’d also thought about that spontaneous, sweet kiss, absent any motivation other than unpolluted want. Shield needed confirmation of the purity she’d felt in that kiss. “I’m not sure,” she mumbled, more to herself than Thomas.
“Get over it. I’ve been under a lot of stress, I’m tired, and I miss my recently deceased husband. You just happened to be on the receiving end of misplaced emotions, a temporary distraction.” Thomas turned on her heel and headed toward the stairs.
Shield wanted to tackle her, pin her down and say something, anything to hurt her back.
She quietly caught up and said, “So, who’s playing with whom?”
“You’re a big girl,” the president said. “Deal with it.”
“I can deal with it just fine.”
“I’m glad.”
“Question is, how are you dealing with the political game you’re participating in?”
Thomas stopped halfway down the steps and turned around. “What game?”
“I know Moore is up to something,” she whispered, mindful of the pair of guards positioned at the bottom of the staircase. “It’s only a matter of time before I find out what, but what I don’t understand is your involvement and his power over you.”
“I’ve slighted you and you are obviously being irrational,” Thomas replied in the same low tone.
“Am I? Is it a coincidence your hands shake whenever he’s around?”
Thomas looked at her with a mixture of fear and disbelief.
“You’re terrified of him.”
“I’m not.” Thomas stood her ground.
“What did he make you do?”
“Even if you were right, why would I tell you anything?”
“Because if Moore can kill once, he can kill twice.”
“Kill?” Thomas glanced nervously toward the other bodyguards. “Killed who?” For the first time during this conversation, the president looked sincerely worried.
Before Shield could answer, Kenneth Moore came into view at the bottom of the staircase.
“There you are.” Moore smiled up at them. “Is there a problem?”
“No, sir,” Shield replied as the two women descended to meet him. “We were just talking about our mutual passion for tennis. Madam President agreed to teach me a few tricks tomorrow.”
“I see.” Moore looked apprehensive. “How interesting.”
“Hardly,” Shield said. “It’s common knowledge Madam President is a strong player.”
“Madam President is,” Moore agreed cryptically.
Thomas laughed nervously and clasped her hands together to hide the slight shaking. “Oh, I don’t know about that. It’s been months, and I’m sure I’m not up to par.”
“Time for our meeting, Madam President.” Moore took the president’s arm and led her away toward the Oval Office. “We have a lot to talk about.”
*
Southwestern Colorado
As soon as Pierce called her with the news of what they’d found at her house, Cassady Monroe booked a ticket on the first plane out of Boston, which left at five a.m. There were no direct flights, so by the time she picked up her car in long-term parking and reached the EOO headquarters, it was almost one in the afternoon. She found Pierce in his office with Grant and Arthur. “Let me see the note,” she said without preamble.
“Your concert is tonight,” Pierce reminded her.
Cass extended her hand. “The note.”
Pierce gave it to her and Cass read it three times before she looked up at them.
“It’s not a suicide note,” Arthur said.
“And I’m sure she didn’t walk out on you.” Grant put a hand on Cass’s shoulder.
“Then what the hell is going on?”
“When we got there, the alarm hadn’t been activated,” Pierce said.
“Jack always turns it on. She’s afraid of me walking in on a burglar. The fact that I can take him down or sense someone is there doesn’t seem to impress her.”