The government was so bogged down with politics, it felt as if they were moving backward instead of forward most days. The staff still worked hard to influence positive changes for the constituents at home, but it was difficult to be satisfied with the effort when what she really wanted was results. But she had to be patient, work her way up. She was making valuable contacts, and for now that was enough.
"You're back," Erica Hunt said, stopping her in the hallway.
A stunningly sophisticated brunette of thirty-eight, Erica had been the senator's chief of staff for the last six months, and she was very good at her job. She was smart, savvy and a bulldog when it came to protecting the senator's interests.
"How was the ribbon cutting?" Erica asked.
"It was good," she said, not really wanting to get into it. "I let the Kanes know the senator sent his regards."
"Excellent. Let's go into my office," Erica said, leading the way down the hall.
Erica's corner office had a view of the White House that Dani hoped would one day be hers, but that day was probably years away.
"Shut the door behind you," Erica said.
"All right." Dani did as requested and then took a seat in front of Erica's desk.
"What happened yesterday?" Erica asked.
"I'm not sure what you mean."
"I mean—why were you involved in a mugging at the park where the ribbon cutting was held?"
She hadn't meant to keep it a secret, but she was shocked that Erica had already heard about the incident. "How do you know about that?"
"I have a friend in the Corpus Christi Police Department. He saw that you're a member of the senator's staff, and he gave me a heads-up. He said you were a witness to an assault. Is that correct?"
"Yes. It was after the ceremony. Everyone was gone. I realized that I'd lost my ring at the park, and I went back to look for it. I stumbled upon an attack in progress, and I helped scare the person away."
Erica gave her a thoughtful look. "I saw the report. You actually got in the middle of a knife fight. Why didn't you just call 911?"
"I acted on instinct. Patrick—Mr. Kane was in trouble."
"Patrick? The son of the congresswoman who died?" Erica asked with an arch of her eyebrow.
"Yes."
"Mr. Kane has been trying to get an appointment with the senator. Did you know that?"
"He told me that when I met him yesterday. He has some questions about his mother's plane crash. Since Senator Dillon and Senator Stuart were close friends, Patrick thought the senator might have some insight."
"The senator can't get involved in that old incident—not now—not with so many other things going on," Erica said shortly.
"I know his schedule is packed, but maybe he could carve out a few moments." She didn't want to get on Erica's bad side, but she felt she had to try to get Patrick a call back.
"He can't do that, Dani, and it's not just because he doesn't have time. Mr. Kane loves controversy, as evidenced by his recent bestseller. The last thing the senator needs is to become embroiled in some old mystery. He has more important things to do."
"I didn't think there was a mystery," she said.
"It sounds like Mr. Kane wants to make it that."
She frowned. "I don't think that's his intent. He just wants to understand what happened. And frankly, I don't think Patrick will quit too easily. He's determined to speak with the senator."
"I'll handle Mr. Kane. If he contacts you, please refer him to me."
"Of course, but I don't think he'll contact me."
"Really? It sounds like you saved his life. I'm guessing he's going to take that opportunity to say thank you."
"He already did that when I took him to the hospital."
Erica's cell phone buzzed. She glanced down at it, then said, "I need to take this."
"I'll get to work then."
As she left Erica's office, she breathed out a sigh of relief. She had trouble clicking with Erica; she'd been much closer to the previous chief of staff, Joe Gelbman, who'd been the one to give her the job in DC. Unfortunately, Joe had had health issues and had to resign. She missed his mentorship and his guidance. She knew she could learn from Erica, too; she just had to deal with the woman's colder and more ruthless approach to work.
The fact that Erica had already heard about her witness statement was a little shocking considering the incident had occurred less than twenty-four hours ago and in another state. Obviously, Erica kept close tabs on anything and anyone tied to the senator, but even so, that was fast.
When Erica had questioned her about the assault, she'd felt a little defensive, as if she'd done something wrong. But that was ridiculous. She'd saved a man's life; there was nothing wrong with that. It was Erica's job to anticipate any possible problems, but Dani couldn't see how the attack on Patrick Kane, or her involvement, would have anything to do with the senator.
Still, she had no plans to speak to Patrick again, and not just because she didn't want to get involved in whatever crusade he was on, but because he unsettled her in a much more personal way. He seemed like a man who could take over a woman's life, who could overwhelm her with his passion and his dreams, and she had her own dreams to live. So she'd focus on her job and try to put her latest Texas memories behind her.
* * *
Patrick was waiting outside her apartment building when Dani got home a little before eight o'clock Monday night. She could not believe that the man she'd decided to never see again was sitting on her steps, wearing jeans and a light-blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows.
He was sipping a large iced coffee that he'd obviously gotten at the coffeehouse on the corner, and there was a bag from her favorite sushi restaurant next to him.
"What are you doing here?" she asked with a frown.
Patrick got to his feet, and with the added height of the step, he towered over her. She didn't like that feeling at all. Well, she usually did like it with a man, but not with this man, who'd made her uncomfortable since the first moment she'd seen him.
"I wanted to talk to you, Dani. You didn't wait for me last night."
She moved up to the step next to him. That was better. Now he only had about half a foot on her. As she saw the purple bruise around his right eye and another on his left cheekbone, reminders of their last encounter, her heart beat a little faster. The bruises did little to mar his attractiveness; if anything, they made him look even more ruggedly sexy.
She drew in a breath, wondering why she couldn't find any air when he was around. "You were in the examining room a long time; I had a plane to catch."
"I didn't get a chance to say thank you."
"You did say thank-you—in the car—on the way to the hospital."
"I don't remember much about the trip."
"How are you? I can't believe you're here or that you're standing upright. I wasn't sure how serious your injuries were."
"They weren't too bad, thanks to you. The doc stitched me up and sent me home last night."
"He probably told you to rest and not to get on a plane and fly across the country."
A small smile played around Patrick's lips. "It's possible he did tell me to rest."
"Did the police catch the guy who attacked you?"
"No." His smile disappeared, and his dark-brown eyes turned grim. "I wasn't able to give the police much of a description. It happened so fast, and he jumped me from behind."
"I wasn't much help, either, I'm afraid. I'm sorry."
"Sorry?" he echoed, with a bemused shake of his head. "No. You saved my life. You have nothing to be sorry about. I am incredibly grateful to you, Dani."
"I just wish I'd gotten a better look at your attacker. I know I saw his face for a split second when the lightning flashed, but I can't bring it back up in my head. It's like it's too bright—an overexposed photograph. I can't see his features. I think he was young, maybe white, but he could have been Hispanic; I just don't know."
"The police will go through the neighborhood, see if they can drum up any other witnesses."
She had a feeling that was a long shot. The park was not in a neighborhood where people had a close relationship with the police. "I really can't believe you flew out here, Patrick." She paused, a sudden thought running through her head. "Wait a second. How did you find me? How did you know where I live?"
"I've gotten really good at finding people on the Internet. It wasn't actually that hard. You haven't been very careful. Your address came right up."
"Well, that's great to know."
"I'm sorry to ambush you like this, but I really want to talk to you, Dani. Will you give me a few minutes?" He grabbed the bag off the ground. "I picked up sushi. Are you hungry?"
She debated for one long second. She'd been told to stay away from Patrick, but the man was persistent, and she didn't feel like having an extended conversation with him in front of her apartment building. A lot of governmental staffers lived in the neighborhood, including some who worked in her office. Any one of them could recognize Patrick. While she hadn't been that aware of his celebrity, having read more about him since their first meeting, she knew a lot of people had read his book as well as the articles he'd written for publications like the New York Times, Fortune and Forbes.
"You can come inside for a few minutes," she said, leading the way into her building and up to her apartment on the second floor. After letting him in, she grabbed her half-empty mug off the coffee table, along with a stack of newspapers and magazines and waved him toward the couch. "Do you want something to drink?"
"I'm good with my coffee."
She got a bottle of water from the fridge and then returned to the living room, sitting down in the chair next to the couch as he pulled several trays of sushi out of the bag and set them on the table.
"This place got good reviews," he said. "I hope you like it."
"I love sushi, and Sushi Q is my favorite take-out place."
"Happy to hear it. I have to say, the name almost put me off."
His smile sent butterflies dancing through her stomach. She really should have sent him away, but it was too late for that. However, it wasn't too late to give him her bottom line.
"Before we eat, I feel like I should be up-front with you," she said. "As you know, I'm a legislative assistant to Senator Dillon. I research and review legislation, some of which will never make it to committee, much less into law. I talk to lobbyists. I talk to constituents. What I don't do very often anymore is talk to the senator. I don’t handle his schedule, and I don't tell him who to call back."
"Look, I get it. You have a job to protect, but you have worked for him for a long time, and I suspect you have some relationship with him." Patrick paused. "Did he or someone in his office ask you not to talk to me?"
"You have a reputation for causing trouble. You know that. I'm sure you wouldn't be surprised to hear that politicians tend to stay away from people like you."
"I'm going to take that as a yes."
"Take it any way you want, but I can't help you."
"Okay."
His easy acceptance made her frown. "Really? That's it?"
"You made your case. And since you saved my life, I don't want to put you in a bad position with your boss."
"I appreciate that."
He held out a tray of sushi. "Help yourself."
"Thanks." She took a California roll and popped it in her mouth.
For the next few minutes, they ate in relatively friendly silence, but Dani couldn't help thinking that there was more coming. A man like Patrick didn't give up that easily.
They'd finished off about half the sushi when he sat back against the couch, grimacing as he adjusted his position.
"You're hurting," she said. "Can I get you anything?"
"No. It's not a big deal."
"A stab wound is not a big deal? You're lucky that knife didn't hit anything important."
He tipped his head. "True. But I think you were my luck, Dani. You came out of the storm like an avenging angel. I saw a knife headed straight for my heart and then you were there, swinging your handbag at the guy's head and spraying chemicals into his eyes. It was the most shocking and amazing thing I've ever seen."
"It was probably not the best idea I've ever had, but I had to do something."
"I'm very grateful to you."
"Do you have any idea why that man attacked you? Did he say anything to you?"
"Not one word. He didn't ask for anything. He didn't tell me to get out of the park. He just started hitting me."
"Maybe he was mentally ill or high or…"
"Or he wanted to hurt me," Patrick finished.
"Is it possible you were targeted? I read about you online, about your book," she said, meeting his gaze. "You've made a lot of enemies in the last year."
"I have, but since everything went public months ago, there's nothing to be gained by trying to warn me off now. Everything I know I've already said."
"Maybe it wasn't a warning but a punishment. It could have been revenge."
"It could have been, but most of the players in the counterfeit drug cases were in states other than Texas. I don't think the book is connected to what happened in the park."
"Why were you there alone? Why didn't you leave with everyone else?"
"I wanted some time to myself. It's been a chaotic and busy few weeks. My focus was on the ceremony and getting the final construction and landscaping details done, making sure the press would cover the event and that people would show up for it." He blew out a breath. "I just wanted a second to think about my mom and what she would have liked about the park and the day."
"What was your mother like?" she asked curiously. "I don't mean as a congresswoman—I heard all that yesterday—but as a mom."
"It's not easy to separate the two in my mind. She worked in politics my entire life. Before she got to Congress, she was on the city council and the planning commission. Her community work was extremely important to her. But she still managed to show up for the big events in my life, and my dad picked up the slack when it came to helping with homework and that kind of thing."
"Did you feel close to her or were you tighter with your dad?"
He shrugged. "I knew she loved me, but it always felt like she had a bigger purpose in life. She was making a difference in the world. That was made clear to me early on."
She thought she heard a hint of pain in his voice.
"But I was always proud of her," he added. "My father adored her. He'd never let anyone say one bad thing about her. He was her protector."
"As he should be," Dani said, thinking that her parents' relationship had not been nearly that devoted. She turned her thoughts back to Patrick. "It appears that you're following in your mother's footsteps. You might not be in office, but your investigation on the counterfeit drug industry certainly made a huge impact."
"I think she'd be proud of what I've accomplished so far, but I'm not done yet."
"What do you think the senator can tell you?" she asked, knowing that she shouldn't even be broaching the subject with him, but she couldn't help herself.
"I won't know until we talk."
"I'm sure the crash was investigated in every possible way by numerous law enforcement and aviation agencies."
"It was, but it's possible something was missed or covered up. They didn't have a lot of data to go on. There was no black box, because it was a smaller, private jet. There was no distress call. The plane just went down suddenly and abruptly, shattering into a million pieces on impact. The investigation concluded that the crash was probably the result of some type of mechanical failure, aided by the stormy conditions, and possible pilot error. The pilot was a last-minute substitute, by the way, after the assigned pilot came down with food poisoning."
She sat up a little straighter at that piece of information, her curious, sharp mind intrigued by that fact. "I didn't know that."
"He was interviewed multipl
e times by the FBI. His story checked out. Or at least his wife testified to the fact that he'd been in the bathroom all night."
"But?" she asked, seeing the gleam in his eyes.
"Just because his illness was real doesn't mean it occurred in an organic way."
"Are you suggesting that someone poisoned his food?"
"It's possible."
"Anything is possible, but what's probable?"
"I need to know more before I can answer that question. And I would think you, of all people, would understand my motivation. I did a little research on you, too, Dani. Your father's plane also went down in a storm, no black box, no distress call."
"And it was never found, not one small piece of it," she said. "Of course I wanted answers, just like you, but there aren't any. It was an accident. That's what I believe anyway."
"What about the rest of your family?"
"My mother feels the way I do. My brother and sister are spinning like crazy tops, chasing the same kind of answers you are."
"Have they gotten anywhere?"
She hesitated and then decided she didn't need to share the events of the last six months with Patrick. She needed him to give up and go home, and telling him her siblings were finally unraveling a ten-year-old mystery would not help that cause. "No," she said belatedly. "Not really."
His gaze searched her face, and she found herself really wanting to look away, but she couldn't seem to break the connection between them.
"You're not a very good liar, Dani."
She really wasn't. "Look, I'm sorry for your loss, for your unanswered questions, for your frustration at not being able to find anyone to talk to you."
"I don't want you to be sorry; I want you to help me."
"I can't help you. And it's not just because I'd be risking my job to go against the senator's chief of staff, but also because I think you'd be better off looking ahead instead of backwards. You've got a great life going. Why don't you just live it? Isn't that what your mom would want?"
"Everyone keeps saying that's what my mother would want, but to be honest, I'm not so sure. She was always digging for truth. I believe that she'd want me to bring justice if justice needed to be brought. She'd want press coverage and a movie made out of her life. She'd want people to talk about her legacy. She'd want to be remembered. She always talked about wanting to be remembered."
Summer Rain (Lightning Strikes Book 3) Page 5
