Exposed in Darkness

by Heather Sunseri

  It was all too much, but with poisons, a crazed source-turned-stalker, and the threat of a small group of extremists running through my mind, I decided to allow myself to be pampered, even if only for an hour or so.

  Of course, I kept my phone with me every step of the way.

  When Declan O’Roark did something, he went all out. So I wasn’t surprised to walk into the main tent for the charity gala and see the extravagant floral arrangements on the tables, the chandeliers hanging around the grand, makeshift ballroom, or the aerial silk artists warming up for what promised to be an entertaining, Cirque du Soleil-type performance. I’d been told their performance would be complete with fog machines.

  I tried to imagine the last time I’d experienced an event such as this. My grandparents had been a part of these kinds of parties, and I knew that my parents attended large charity events. And I had been to the occasional wedding that involved beautiful flowers, formal wear, and a live band.

  But this was different. There was an energy surging in the air—an expectation that came with pre-Derby excitement. I’d known from articles I’d read in the paper that this gala was a major social event. It was also a major fundraiser for the Bluegrass Derby Foundation; the people who would start arriving within the hour were expected to empty out their wallets in the name of children’s charities. And in exchange, they were granted the opportunity to see and be seen.

  Most of the people attending the Derby would be there to enjoy everything the event had to offer. They’d eat, drink, and be merry in their brightly colored clothes and vibrant Derby hats. But then there were those who would attend tonight’s event and Derby tomorrow with an agenda. Tonight’s gala would be attended by a who’s who of the thoroughbred industry, as well as celebrities from Hollywood, New York and many places in between; politicians from Kentucky, our nation’s capital, and even from foreign countries; and corporate elites. All of them hoped to further their careers or their political agendas by rubbing shoulders with the right people. And this same crowd would regroup on Millionaires Row at the racetrack for the main event the next day, where they would do the same thing all over again.

  As I turned three hundred sixty degrees to take in the extravagant party tent, I couldn’t help but think: This was exactly the display of wealth that angered groups like the Garrison—people outraged over the vulgar wealth and the “agendas” of politicians and the corporate elites.

  Circling one of the tables, I ran my fingers along the backs of white chairs. I admired the elaborate table decorations—a mixture of brightly colored spring flowers, including black tulips that were actually a deep, dark purple, and black silk ribbon. I glanced down at my black, floral, floor-length gown and realized Mrs. G had dressed me in a dress that closely resembled the gorgeous decorations.

  Declan and his team of makeover specialists had thought of everything—right down to the pocket sewn into my dress for my phone, lipstick, and badge. And better yet, the way my holster fit into the skirt so I could easily grab my gun with my left hand. The fitted jacket flared just perfectly at the waist to cover my Glock.

  Event planners were scurrying around, the band was setting up, and men in dark suits—security—were standing around awaiting directions. I’d yet to see Declan; I was sure he was busy, either with last-minute party details or with his own Derby business, seeing as he was owner of one of the horses running in the feature race.

  I turned and made my way past caterers to the security tent and ducked inside. I was the first to arrive for the five-thirty briefing. Everything appeared to be in place. I approached the wall of six monitors and turned them all on. Cameras were supposed to have been strategically placed around the party tents, including the tent where the special, post-dinner drink would be prepared. I took a step back to examine what was on the screens—

  I felt like my breath was knocked out of me.

  All six monitors showed not videos, but still pictures. And they weren’t of the party.

  On the top left monitor was a picture of Teddy. He was pointing his gun, and appeared frightened and blinded by a bright light.

  The next monitor showed someone kneeling over Teddy. He was unconscious, or… dead. I slapped my hand across my mouth to smother a gasp.

  The other four pictures were of me. One from Teddy’s funeral. I recognized the dark gray dress I had worn, then sworn I’d never wear again. Another showed me with bloodshot eyes at the cemetery. The third was outside my Virginia home. And the last picture—on the bottom right—was from Wednesday night. It was me dressed in Sasha’s clothes, beside the fountain at Thoroughbred Park.

  My entire body began to shake uncontrollably as I looked over the photos. Who had done this?

  But I knew.

  There was only one person who was brazen enough to follow me that closely—only one person who would dare exploit the death of my husband and my heartbreak over it.

  I moved toward the first picture of Teddy. I lifted my fingers to touch his face. A knot formed in my throat. Tears stung my eyes.

  “What is this?” someone said behind me.

  I whipped around to find Mike standing just inside the tent.

  “Agent Fairfax?”

  I began to shake my head. “I don’t know.” I quickly blinked away the tears.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket—a text. I pulled it out and read the text aloud: “If Teddy could see you now.”

  “Romeo?” Mike asked.

  “He’s been watching me all this time. Following me. And now he’s taunting me.” What did he want from me?

  Ty entered the tent, followed by Carlos. “What the—” Ty stared at the monitors.

  “Carlos, Ty, fix those monitors,” Mike ordered. “Brooke, come with me.”

  I stepped outside the tent and followed Mike to a place away from the tents—and away from other people.

  “Can you do this?” Mike asked.

  “Can I do what?”

  “The job. Can you do the job?”

  I had already bitten back the emotions that had washed over me upon seeing those pictures of Teddy. But I was still hanging on to the anger that would carry me through this night. I would put a stop to the people attempting to derail this event, and I would find Romeo, once my source and now my tormentor. I would find him and put him away for stalking a federal agent.

  I looked deeply into Mike’s eyes. “I can do the job.”

  “Good.” He pulled a set of photos from his pocket. “Every agent and police officer working the event has these pictures.” They were photos of Jenna, Ben, Danny, plus a picture of the crossed sabers tattoo on Romeo’s wrist. “Can you protect yourself with one arm?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I can protect myself just fine.”

  Mike didn’t waste time arguing the point. “Good. Now, let’s join the others for the briefing.”

  We returned to the tent. It was now full of men in suits, some of whom I recognized from the Joint Terrorism Task Force. I was surprised to see Declan standing against the far wall, staring at the pictures up on the monitors. His jaw was set and his neck was red.

  I forced myself to look at the screens. The pictures were still there.

  Ty was typing furiously on a keyboard in front of the monitors. Two additional people, including Carlos, were typing on keyboards beside him. But the pictures were not going away.

  Suddenly, Ty stood and walked behind the monitors. He reached down and pulled the master plug. The monitors went black, and I jumped as if someone had shocked me.

  When he plugged the system back in, I watched closely as each monitor came back to life. It appeared that the system was getting a reboot.

  I hadn’t noticed Declan moving until he’d slid behind me. “You look beautiful, Miss Fairfax,” he whispered close to my ear. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded wordlessly.

  Mike briefed the security team, informing everyone that we’d already had a breach, that someone had hijacked our feeds, but that we would have a handle o
n it shortly. He went over the specifics of what we were watching for that night. Mostly, everyone should keep their radios close, listen for any sign of trouble from other members of the team, and radio anything suspicious back to the main dashboard. Ty and Carlos would be keeping track of every piece of information coming in, as well as helping analysts keep an eye on security footage.

  When Mike was done, and the men in suits began to disperse, Declan whispered in my ear. “I’m thinking I made a mistake. Maybe we should have called the party off.”

  I angled my head. “Why are you having doubts now? I thought you and the governor said there was no use hiding from the terrorists of the world. That we should face them head on and defeat them.”

  He took hold of my arm and pulled me just outside the tent. I took a brief moment to admire how handsome he looked in a traditional tuxedo.

  “That was before,” he said.

  “Before what?” I asked.

  “Before I met you.” He stepped closer. “Before I saw the depth of empathy one person could have for people she’d never met, and for people she barely knew. Before I’d met someone who is willing to risk her own life to keep Americans safe, and has experienced what it’s like to lose someone at the hands of criminals.”

  I looked away. I wouldn’t talk about Teddy. Not now. Not with him.

  “Don’t look away, please.” He touched my hand; his fingers were cool against mine. “Don’t hide from me.”

  I swallowed hard before I turned back to the man who had done nothing to hide his interest in me. “What do you want from me?”

  He smiled. “I want you to watch your back this evening. I want you to stay safe, and when you’ve stopped the bad guys, I want you to spend the night with me. And I don’t mean in a guest room down the hall.”

  “No promises,” I whispered. Then I turned and went back inside the security tent. I was thankful Declan didn’t follow.

  Mike was standing behind Carlos and Ty at the monitors, which were working properly again. On the screens, I could see caterers rushing around to connect their truck kitchens, workers putting final touches on the portable bathrooms built especially for the party, and bartenders stocking their bars. “Any sign of Jenna, Ben, or Danny?” I asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “And Truman?”

  “The governor isn’t scheduled to arrive until seven thirty, in time for dinner. He’ll speak after. Carlos and Ty will monitor the videos and alert everyone when Jenna is in the tent. We’ll let her hang herself, then swoop in and arrest.”

  Mike handed me a clear earpiece, which I slid into place, and a nearly invisible lavaliere microphone to pin to my dress. I wasn’t sure Mrs. G had planned for this piece of equipment, but it blended well enough with the dark floral print.

  “You make it sound so simple,” I said.

  “It is. In theory.” He smiled. “You and I are partners for tonight. We’ll stay in each other’s sight for the most part, at the very least in each other’s ear.”

  My heart tightened. It had been more than a year since I’d had a partner with the FBI. I had let Teddy down, and therefore everyone else that worked with us, including Mike, when Teddy was killed. “Okay,” I said.

  Mike turned and ducked out of the tent, and I couldn’t stop the dark feeling that lingered in my mind. Could I be responsible for Mike tonight? I had to be, but it didn’t prevent the worry.

  Carlos spun around in his seat. “Ty and I will be monitoring movement of all key players from right here. That includes Declan and the governor. We’ll also be monitoring both of you through your phones’ GPS. We’ve got tails on Jenna, Ben, and Danny. We’ve also got the agent shadowing the commemorative glasses. All our agents have been instructed to blend in and make sure they aren’t spotted.”

  “Good. I want Jenna and the others to hang themselves and not get spooked.” I glanced at my phone. “We have thirty minutes before the guests begin arriving, but Jenna and her partners in crime should arrive any minute now. Let me know the second they do.” I turned and ducked out of the tent.

  I didn’t miss the look being exchanged between Carlos and Ty. They were worried about me. About how seeing the pictures of my late husband on the monitor—pictures I’d never seen before—might have affected me. The first picture had to have been taken just before Teddy was murdered. And the second… directly after.

  I headed for the house. I was hyper-aware of my surroundings and of every person within a twenty-foot radius. If Romeo approached me tonight, I would be ready.

  I wasn’t sure exactly where I was going now, but I knew I needed to catch my breath before the festivities began.

  Chapter 33

  Declan

  Mike stopped me just outside the security tent. He was going on and on about the plans for the night and how much security was in place to make sure the event went off without incident. Their intent was to catch the people doing the poisoning red-handed, while keeping the guests completely unaware they’d almost been victims of a domestic terrorist attack. It was a ballsy play, one that could turn catastrophic at a moment’s notice. Basically, the FBI and state and local police had decided to use my charity gala as a trap. And Brooke was the mastermind behind it, which meant if something went wrong, she’d be at the center of the blame.

  I wouldn’t let that happen. She had become too important to me since she’d stumbled into my life, even if she’d refused to accept that yet.

  When I saw her walking toward my house, I cut Mike off. “Thank you, Agent Donaldson. I appreciate everything you and your team are doing. If you’ll excuse me, I need to take care of something before guests arrive.”

  I jogged across the grass and driveway to the side entrance of my house. As I entered, I could hear the sound of Brooke’s shoes clicking against the old pine floors, then go quiet. I followed the sounds until I found those very shoes resting at the bottom of the staircase.

  I smiled. I was pleased that she felt comfortable enough to enter my house and kick off her shoes. But I also knew what I had seen on her face after she’d seen those photographs of herself and of her late husband. I took the stairs two at a time.

  When I pushed open the door to the guest suite, she wasn’t there. The room had been cleared of the clothes from earlier, and everything was still.

  At the other end of the hall, I saw a light go on. My bedroom.

  Now I was curious.

  When I reached my door, I barely got a glimpse of the trailing fabric of her dress as it disappeared into the ceiling above the spiral staircase. I climbed the stairs, and there she was, settling in behind my desk in the soft, black leather chair, her head tilted forward, watching something on her phone. Her head jerked up when I appeared, and she stood.

  “I’m sorry.” Her eyes moved in all directions, looking everywhere but directly at me. “I totally trespassed into your private space. I just needed—”

  “Brooke, you don’t need to explain.” I crossed the room. “You are welcome anywhere in my house.”

  She was shorter without the heels. Her head would fit easily under my chin, and I was tempted to reach out and pull her in just to test the hypothesis. “I interrupted you. You were about to say what you needed.”

  She tilted her head back and looked at me. “I just needed a moment to think. Away from all that.” She glanced sideways toward the window that looked out on the side lawn.

  “And I’ve interrupted you.” I thought about retreating, giving her space. But to hell with that. I’d given her space, and tomorrow or the next day, when the Derby and the threats were hopefully over, she’d be walking back out of my life as quietly as she had entered. So I remained where I was.

  Then she surprised me.

  “The confidential source—Romeo,” she started.

  “The man who injured your arm.”

  “Yes. He provided key evidence in the case that resulted in my husband’s death.” It was the first time Brooke shared something with me about her late husband�
��details of a past that had caused sadness to be permanently lodged in the soft features of her face. “He offered up key evidence in several cases before that as well. And even though he’s been largely quiet during this investigation, he’s been constantly lurking around the edges. And once again, he’s fixated on me.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “In what ways was he fixated on you before?”

  “He followed me and photographed me, then he would send the pictures to me just to show me how close he’d gotten.”

  My blood heated just under my skin, and I realized how protective I’d become of her. “Those pictures tonight?”

  “I hadn’t seen any of them before. He wants me to know that he’s been watching me since Teddy died, even though he stopped being a source after Teddy’s death.”

  I fisted my hands in my pockets, attempting to keep my anger hidden from her, not wanting her to have to worry about my temper on top of everything else.

  “I fear I might not be able to stop whatever’s been planned for tonight. These people have killed three times already. And the attack at the Governor’s Mansion would’ve been a mass tragedy if that server hadn’t done a couple of shots while pouring the bourbon. The idea that every one of those glasses was poisoned…” Her voice broke. She looked up at me. “They would have killed the governor, you, and a hundred other people.”

  “You’ve done everything you can to prepare for tonight,” I said. “There are dozens of FBI agents and twice that number of police officers on my side lawn. I want you to relax for a few minutes before we go out there.” I reached down and grabbed her hand. “Come here.” I led her over to a sofa and told her to sit.

  She did, but she looked uncomfortable. I sat and started to pull her into my arms, but she resisted. “I know this is going to sound really girly and high-maintenance,” she said, “but… I’ll mess up my hair and makeup. And I just couldn’t bear the responsibility of disappointing Mrs. G and her team of specialists that created this.” She pointed to her face, hair, and dress like she was a piece of art for display.