by DiAnn Mills
Lindsay opened her eyes, hoping her glare showed her contempt. “Am I demonic? Is that what you’re saying? Perhaps an exorcism would make me the obedient daughter.”
“Don’t you want to stop the addiction? Get clean? Feel like a normal human?”
“Whatever.” Lindsay fought the pain now radiating to the base of her skull. “Why would I ever want to stop? You’ve read the books. I’m self-medicating to avoid my inner turmoil.”
“How many trips to rehab is it going to take?”
Couldn’t the woman talk without asking one miserable question after another? No wonder Lindsay’s head hurt. “Stop the pathetic intervention. I’ll stop when I’m dead.”
“Maybe that’s what it’ll take. You certainly have the role models for it.”
Ah, the superior tone in her voice. “Oh, now it’s reverse psychology. Are you thinking an overdose will actually help Daddy’s career? I admit sympathy is a good platform. You could fake your grieving—People magazine, USA Today, even Time would want an exclusive. Too bad I’d miss the photo shoot.”
Mom stood. “Forcing our hand is not good. We love you, and—”
“Get out.” What did she have to live for anyway? “Don’t try another rehab. I know how to answer the questions and make all the promises. I’m a master at it.”
Mom picked up Lindsay’s cell phone from the nightstand.
“Hey, Alexa. You have no right to take that.” Lindsay bolted upright in the bed, the pain staggering, blinding her.
“Yes, I do when your father pays for it.” Mom headed to the door and turned on her heel. “I love you, but I will not stand by and watch you destroy yourself.”
“You forgot the part about Daddy’s future.”
“We’d leave all of that behind today if we thought it would make a difference.”
“Get out.” She couldn’t go on like this much longer. The money. The threats. They’d all be better off if she were dead.
Chapter 6
Since Tuesday, Meghan and the team had worked nonstop to secure the ranch. Although Lindsay Hall did not have priority status, her position had risen from a VP’s rebellious daughter, needing drug intervention, to a critical situation. The security measures were in place to protect her from whoever had decided to end her life.
As dawn crept across the horizon and Meghan pushed her body into the fifth mile along the dirt road lining the Dancin’ Dust, thoughts about Lindsay occupied her mind. For now, the front gate remained unlocked while she ran, but that would change once their protectee arrived.
Lindsay must be under lock and key in DC because the media were scrambling for news. Each network gave its own version of what might be happening, feeding from past reports about Lindsay’s previous behavior. FOX speculated that she’d been admitted into a small rehab near Seattle. ABC reported she’d been seen at a resort in the Catskills. CBS claimed to have spotted her at a treatment center in Switzerland, and NBC still gloated over Barry Knight’s interview.
Every member of the team on the Dancin’ Dust had become restless. Like Meghan, they craved a change from the long, quiet days.
Rounding the path that led past the stables and to the house, she smelled ranch life—wildflowers and a downwind of manure. Ethan and Chip exited the stables, both walking quarter horses. Right on time. They must set their clocks to when her run ended. What else had they observed while the agents prepared for Lindsay?
Close to Ethan’s left heel trotted their terrier, a friendly dog with a mostly brown face and ears and a healthy white coat. He answered to the name of Chesney. Meghan cast an admiring glance at the horses. Both mares were a copper color, sleek and white-faced.
“Hey, little lady.” Ethan grinned and Chip waved.
“Mornin’.” She slowed to a walk, perspiration dripping from every inch of her. She pulled the earbuds from her ears.
“Need a bottle of water?” Chip’s gaze swept from her head to her running shoes, a little too admiringly. The two men had sparkling green eyes and sandy-colored hair. “Got one right here.” He held up a bottle.
“My drink of choice.” She took it. “I finished mine on the fourth mile.”
“Bet you don’t have a thing on that iPod.” Chip laughed.
He’d been watching too many crime shows. “Are you kidding? Run in this heat without a beat?”
“If I had your job, every part of me would be trained to the surroundings.”
“Everyone needs a break.” She gestured around her. “This ranch is breathtaking. A great place to relax. No wonder Mr. Burnette steals away whenever he can.”
Chip nodded. “It’s home. Hey, I have coffee, too. Won’t take a minute to get you a cup.”
“No, thanks. I need to cool off a little first.”
“What’s your Secret Service expertise?”
She laughed. “Running. And I’m the token woman.”
“They picked the best-looking agent I’ve ever seen.”
Poor Chip. He must be in between girlfriends. A man with those eyes and thick hair probably had the girls beating down his door. But not while the Secret Service guarded the ranch.
Lindsay would use him for sure. Click. Store that data.
Meghan twisted off the lid of the water bottle and drank deeply. “You’re great company, guys, but I have to get cleaned up.” She toasted the house with the bottle. “Coffee is about the only thing Pepper doesn’t lace with jalapeños.”
Ethan shook his head. “Don’t I know it.” She gave him her attention, a little safer on the eyes than his too-good-looking son. “God love her, but she gave me an ulcer one summer when Mr. Burnette’s sister came with her daughters. That’s why we do our own cooking.”
“I might sneak to your place when she’s not paying attention.”
“But not A2Z.” Ethan cocked a brow. “Can’t quite figure him out yet.”
“He has a job to do, and he’s particular. Where did you hear his nickname?”
“Chip told me, but all you have to do is listen.” Ethan nodded toward the back porch. “In about two minutes, he’ll stick his head out the door and check to see if you might be late for your shift.”
“Guess I shouldn’t give him an opportunity to write me up.” She patted Ethan’s mare. What else had the Leonards heard? “I used to barrel race with a beauty like this one.”
“Where you from? You got time to talk. You’re earlier than other mornings, and he ain’t looking yet.”
“Little east of Abilene.”
“I knew it.” Ethan slapped his thigh. “No gal as pretty and as friendly as you could be from anywhere but Texas. Welcome home, Meggie.”
How did he know her family nickname? Click.
While the shadows of evening enveloped the Dancin’ Dust, Ash watched Meghan interact with Wade and Victor in the living room. Pepper had popped corn and joined them for a movie. Until Lindsay arrived, their schedules were flexible, which allowed the team to form a bond and build on each other’s strengths and understand their weaknesses.
Meghan kept a professional stance. Not even a glance with a sexual connotation. For three days, she’d done her job. She took his hassle and appeared unaffected, and she usually had a comeback of her own. Nailed him more than once. Not bad to look at either. Maybe a hint of admiration had seeped into his concrete heart.
When had he started referring to her as Meghan?
He startled, not visibly, but enough to shake him. Women agents didn’t belong in the ranks. He knew what could happen.
“I need a full report in five minutes. All of you have done more than what is needed for a VP’s daughter, but we all know the potential problems if we relax.”
“The installer will be here tomorrow to finish rewiring the alarm system.” Meghan handed him a printout of the work order. “He’ll be here at eight.”
“Good. Wade, is Ethan Leonard cooperating any better?”
“He likes horses, baseball, and Jesus.”
Ash’s phone rang. It was Warr
ington.
“We need to transport Lindsay tonight. She’ll be there in about six and a half hours. Dr. Sanchez and his nurse will be accompanying her, along with the vice president and his wife.”
“Dr. Sanchez’s nurse hasn’t been cleared. Her ex is doing time.”
“Deal with it, Ash. Lindsay is low on the priority list.”
His eye twitched. “Yes, sir.”
“The Halls will be leaving here as soon as their daughter is settled. The hospital is making sure she’s all right to travel.”
Hospital? Settled meant heavy sedation, but that was against Dr. Sanchez’s convictions. “Is there a reason for bringing her here at night?”
“Suicide attempt.”
That was a first. “I’m sorry. How are the VP and his wife doing?”
“Not good. Also another threat to Lindsay. Happened before the suicide episode.”
Now Ash understood. “We’ll see you in a few hours.”
Sympathy for the Halls turned to anger. Why did God allow good people to suffer? The VP and his wife had spent years in third world countries helping women and children survive persecution, disease, hunger, and slavery. More than once, the couple had been airlifted out of places the most stalwart of people would avoid. And this is what they faced now? Possibly the greatest trial of all.
Ash studied the faces of his team. All eyes were on him. “Heads up. Lindsay will be here in about six and a half hours. We have lots to do. Pepper, that means you, too. Don’t even think about going to bed.”
“I’m the cook, not a techie.” Pepper snatched up her Dr Pepper can.
“I want coffee for us and something for the VP and his wife when they arrive.” Ash squared his resolve. “I think Mr. Burnette would want you to take care of his guests.”
She paused, then disappeared into the kitchen. For once, she didn’t balk.
“Connors, I need a thorough background check on Carla Bertinelli. Everything you can find. We’ve talked about this. She’s a widow, but husband number one is doing time for extortion. See what connections both husbands might have had.”
“What about the Leonards?” Wade picked up a notepad as though he already knew the answer.
“Brief them and again impress on them the gravity of the situation.”
Agents flew in different directions, and Meghan was already on her laptop. With no one else in the room, he noted her intense concentration. “Lindsay can be difficult.”
“I read the report.”
“She has good aim.”
“I’ll learn how to duck.”
She wouldn’t back down. “You’re doing a good job.”
Her gaze never left the screen. “Thank you.”
“But women don’t belong in the agency.”
She slowly lifted her head, fingers positioned on the keys. He’d never noticed her long lashes or the splattering of freckles on her nose and cheeks. “We’ll see. I want to prove I’m not one of the weaker sex.”
From the way his insides weakened when he looked at her, she was already on her way to proving her point.
Chapter 7
At 0300, the distinct sound of whirling helicopter blades captured Meghan’s attention. She stood with the protective team and waited near the lighted landing pad, while the VP, his wife and daughter, Dr. David Sanchez, Carla Bertinelli, and two special agents disembarked.
The lines on Vice President Hall’s face had deepened since Meghan had seen him four days ago. With agents at his side, he carried his sleeping daughter into the house. No doubt sedated, a dichotomy since Dr. Sanchez’s methods opposed any prescriptions or over-the-counter drugs. Doubts bannered across her mind about the infamous psychologist and his high percentage of rehabilitating addicts who stayed clean.
Once Lindsay had been put to bed, the medical team, Pepper, and the agents met with the vice president and his wife in the kitchen. The aroma of fresh coffee filled the air, and Pepper had baked a coffee cake, but no one seemed interested in the latter. Pepper poured a fresh cup for Alexa Hall and added a dollop of cream and a spoonful of sugar, but Dr. Sanchez and Ms. Bertinelli declined any food or drink.
“We refrain from sugary baked goods and caffeine.” Dr. Sanchez stiffened.
Meghan studied the man chosen to counsel and encourage Lindsay to shake her addictions. If the grim look on his face was any indication of his personality, the protective team and Lindsay were in for a long summer.
The VP eased into a chair with a cup of black coffee. “Dr. Sanchez, I’m putting my daughter into your care.”
“Is that why you sedated her before you called?”
The VP’s face hardened. “I had no choice.”
“You could have discussed it with me first.” Dr. Sanchez, a slight, blue-eyed man, ran his fingers through dark hair. “I apologize, sir. My work and my patients are my life. I thought we’d agreed on Lindsay’s treatment. Every time a foreign substance enters her body, her recovery is delayed.”
“My daughter is more than my life.” The VP’s words sounded like rumbling thunder. His wife touched his shoulder, and he gave her a tight-lipped smile before giving his attention to Dr. Sanchez. “Lindsay was hysterical and violent, outraged that the suicide attempt had failed. You saw her bandaged wrist. And you—” he aimed his finger at the doctor—“didn’t find her. I was the one who forced down her apartment door and found her in a pool of blood. I phoned the ambulance while checking her pulse. I pressed a towel onto her wrist and prayed.”
“Yes, sir. Again, I apologize for my outburst and my insensitivity. It won’t happen again.”
The VP lifted his coffee cup to his lips, as though needing time to compose himself. The red in his face faded. “Before I talk to Agent Zinders about the state of the ranch’s security, I want you to explain to these fine agents your treatment plan.”
Dr. Sanchez cleared his throat. “Carla and I will work closely with Lindsay during the coming hours, days, and weeks. We have no idea how long it will take for her to make a decision to leave the past behind. My method is to treat her with nutritional supplements, have her eat balanced meals, involve her in exercise and around-the-clock counseling.”
“What supplements will she be taking?” Meghan had researched his approach to rehabilitation and wanted to monitor Lindsay’s intake while on duty with her.
“I appreciate your interest. Lindsay will be taking vitamin B12 under the tongue to improve her nutrient uptake and enzyme action for better brain function. She will take balanced macronutrients to include quality proteins in medical foods for optimal blood-sugar control. This will be administered in the form of a smoothie twice daily. She will eat every three hours, which will also optimize blood-sugar control.” He nodded at Pepper. “I’d like a consultation appointment with you as soon as possible.”
“Also on her plan is vitamin B6 and Saint-John’s-wort as a nervine tonic to balance emotions. Fish oil for cell membrane support and better hormone signaling, flax oil to help restore the lipid membrane of damaged myelin sheath from body toxins, magnesium for nerve transmission and a calming effect, and passionflower at night to help her sleep and encourage hormone production.” He pulled several sheets of paper from his laptop case. “I have her treatment plan here for Miss Davis and for any agents who are interested.”
“I’ll take a hard copy and an electronic one.” Ash’s tone clearly indicated his skepticism. He jotted his e-mail address and gave it to Dr. Sanchez.
“I’d like both too.” Meghan reached for the offered sheet of paper. “I’ll give you my e-mail address in the morning.”
Mrs. Hall slid into a chair beside the VP. “We believe in Dr. Sanchez’s methods, and we hope all of you will encourage Lindsay to cooperate.” She was pale, trembling. “There cannot be any repeats of . . .”
The VP took his wife’s hand. “Special Agent Zinders, do you have questions? I forbid any alcohol consumption on this ranch while my daughter is here. Scottard gave me a key to his bar.” He handed it to Ash. �
�Before you go to bed, lock it up.”
“Yes, sir.”
The VP nodded at Ash. “Need I remind you that my daughter’s life is at stake?”
“Sir, I have Lindsay’s best interests at heart. Always have.”
The VP rubbed his face. “I know. This has been a long day. Longer night. You’ve never let me down. Didn’t mean to bite your head off.”
Dr. Sanchez gestured to the petite, middle-aged woman beside him. “My assistant will be available to answer any questions, but understand her first responsibility is to Lindsay.”
“As is ours.” Ash’s voice fired electricity around the room.
“Thank you, Ash.” The VP took another drink of coffee. “Dr. Sanchez has the ultimate word about Lindsay’s treatment. However, Special Agent Zinders and his team are in charge of her security.”
“I understand.” Dr. Sanchez’s confidence in his methods would surely rival Ash’s policies. “I also have her diet and cooking instructions.”
“That’s for me.” Pepper held out her hand and another copy went to Ash and Meghan. “We can have the consultation appointment anytime tomorrow.”
“I’ll leave extra copies on the kitchen counter.” Dr. Sanchez lifted his chin. “Lindsay’s diet is like a triangle. Each point is critical to her recovery: protein, carbohydrates, and fats and oils. This discipline—”
“Dr. Sanchez, just the basics.” The VP smiled.
“Certainly.” He reached inside his laptop case and pulled out a thin book, which he gave to Pepper. “I’ve written a book that explains the diet, what’s included, and why. What’s important is that she consumes natural and organic foods and nutrients.”
Pepper frowned. “Am I supposed to cook separately for the agents and Lindsay?”
Dr. Sanchez continued to smile—like a Cheshire cat. “I’d like to think we all could eat nutritionally sound.”
“Never mind.” Pepper blew out a sigh. “I’m not going to ruin my reputation by preparing bland meals. If fresh and organic is what Lindsay needs, then she’ll have it. The garden is at my fingertips.”
