by DiAnn Mills
Meghan gave him her attention. Why couldn’t she have a wart on her nose?
“They caught a man attempting to access the VP’s home. A known drug dealer from Colombia by the name of Jorge Ramos. He’d been arrested previously and deported. Back again to see what he could do.”
“Best news I’ve heard in a long time. Maybe now we’ll get some answers.”
Ash frowned. “Not really. He fired at the agents and was killed.”
“But has it ended, Ash? Can we assume Lindsay is safe from the stalker?”
“Warrington has no proof that the man who threatened her was Ramos.” He sighed. The day had been long. “There’s more. An hour after the shooting, an e-mail came through for Lindsay. The sender writes as though he knows her.”
“What did he say?”
“I thought you’d like to see it.” He picked up his plate. “Let me show you.”
They moved to the operation room and Ash’s computer screen. “Take a look, Meghan. Maybe you can read something into this better than I have. Victor’s already worked on it.” He offered her his chair.
Hey, Lindsay,
I really do want to see you. We have a lot in common, and you know it. Both of us hate the vice president’s guts and love to party. Too bad the shooter didn’t get inside your parents’ house today. We could be celebrating now. And I’d bring the good stuff.
I know where you’re hiding, Lindsay. I could help you get away where no one could find us. Tell me when you’re ready.
Remembering our last date.
Meghan stared into Ash’s face. “He has to know we’re monitoring her e-mail.”
“He’s playing games.”
“Did you respond?”
“I thought I’d give you the honors. Figured you could sound more like Lindsay.” Ash meant every word.
Meghan hit Reply.
Hey,
Don’t know who you are. I’ve had lots of dates with lots of guys. Come clean with who you are and help me get out of here. I’ll make it worth your trouble. I have a raging headache, and the withdrawals are the pits. To make it worse, Daddy has this nutcase nutritionist filling me full of vitamins. The only kind of pills I want aren’t sold in a health-food store. Let’s hook up. I need to score bad. They’ve taken my phone.
Lindsay
Ash read Meghan’s response. “Hit Send. What do we have to lose?”
“All right. Let the games continue.”
Two minutes later, another e-mail for Lindsay slid into her in-box.
Lindsay,
We’ll be together soon. Give me a little time to work out a plan. Let’s be honest here. The Secret Service is reading every word, but they’re stupid. Ash Zinders is getting careless, and he’s bored. All he can do is follow his rule book and bark orders. His team thinks he’s a joke. And that woman assigned to you? She’s nothing more than a diversion for the other agents. Might give her a whirl myself. But why settle for trash when I can have you?
They’ll end up dead, and you’ll help me do it.
Soon, Lindsay. Real soon.
Meghan typed another response and sent it. “Message is undeliverable. The account’s been closed.”
Chapter 16
Monday morning, Meghan replayed her evening at the Leonards. She’d failed to uncover a solid lead on Ethan’s or Chip’s possible involvement with Lindsay’s stalkers. But Chip was the one who most likely had contact with them. This morning she wavered between ignoring her suspicions and her own type A personality that spurred her to investigate him further. The situation had her mind and stomach spinning with unanswered questions.
Meghan waited outside Lindsay’s bedroom. Some mornings she wanted Meghan’s company, as though they were best friends. Other mornings she acted as though Meghan were the enemy. Today they were to go riding, another opportunity to observe Chip. An ear-piercing scream sent Meghan into her protectee’s room. Lindsay sat up in bed, face pale and eyes wide. She trembled and wrapped her arms around her waist.
“Get them out of here.” Terror oozed from Lindsay’s eyes. “They’ll kill me.”
“Who? Talk to me.” But Meghan understood exactly. Lindsay was hallucinating.
“The purple monsters.” She pointed toward the closet. “Can’t you see them floating out from the wall? They have knives—long, jagged ones.”
For a moment, Meghan considered going after Dave. But what would he do? Have her drink an extra dose of vitamin C? Instead she hurried to Lindsay’s bedside and grasped her shoulders. “Look at me. Not at the purple monsters, but at me. Take deep breaths.”
Lindsay hesitated. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” How many times had Meghan coaxed another young woman into focusing on reality? “You know what this is. You’ve been through it before. Let me help you. The hallucinations will pass.”
Lindsay slowly turned to Meghan.
“Good. Now look into my eyes.”
She obliged, and her body eased slightly. “I’ve been sober for almost a week. Why now?”
“I don’t know, but we’ll work through it.” Meghan sat on her bed and drew Lindsay into her arms. “I imagine Dave will have answers.”
“Please, stay with me.” Lindsay’s sobs muffled in Meghan’s shoulder. “I hate being alone. They’ll come back.”
“I’m here for as long as you need me.”
“You don’t see the monsters? They spit fire, and their knives have blood on them.”
Any other time, the conversation would be ridiculous, as though a child were having nightmares. But this was a young woman whose body craved alcohol and drugs to function. “Do you want to see Dave?”
“No. I just want to go back to sleep.”
The clock on Lindsay’s nightstand flashed 8:35. “Didn’t you sleep last night?”
“No. I had nightmares.”
“Close your eyes. I won’t leave.” Oh, Lindsay. I want so much for you.
“If only I could escape this horrible world.”
“I know.” Meghan held her until she heard even breathing. Then she laid Lindsay on the pillow. Such a pretty young woman—blonde hair, blue eyes, a face like an angel. Meghan prayed she’d find the will to fight the drugs and alcohol for good.
At 1300, Lindsay wakened, and Meghan stepped out into the hallway, where Dave and Carla waited. For certain, they had Lindsay’s health and well-being as top priority. Admiration rose in her for their dedication, and she chided herself for sometimes thinking their methods of treating Lindsay were foolish.
“She’s awake.” Meghan closed the door behind her. “Right now, she’s in the bathroom.”
“Thank you for staying with her. I wanted to intervene, but I trusted your instincts. I’ve witnessed so many patients suffer through hallucinations, and I know they’re terrifying.” Compassion radiated from his eyes. “I have a call scheduled with her father in less than five minutes.” He glanced at his phone, and it vibrated.
“Guess that call is now.” Dave walked to the stairway and turned to face Meghan. “Good morning, Mr. Burnette. I was expecting the vice president.” He moistened his lips. “I understand. She had a rough night. Nightmares and hallucinations. But I’ll see if she feels like talking.”
Dave nodded at Meghan, who went inside to check on her protectee and relay the message.
“I don’t want to talk to him,” Lindsay said on the other side of the bathroom door.
“Mr. Burnette cares about you.”
Lindsay cursed. “No way.”
Frustrated, Meghan responded to Dave and walked downstairs. Unfortunately, Lindsay’s behavior was typical, and changes took time.
Once in the kitchen, Meghan reached for a small bowl of lettuce and added toppings from an assortment of veggies, egg salad, and roasted turkey on the kitchen counter. She joined Ash in the operation room. Not sure why she often chose to eat with him instead of in the kitchen. If she examined her motives, she’d admit this absurd attraction to him. They were so much alike, almos
t scary and yet challenging at the same time. Lately he’d been more congenial, but she also knew his moods could turn as quickly as Lindsay’s. What demons chased him?
Again they were alone. Maybe that needed to stop. After all, he wanted the same assignment to the VP’s protective team, and his kindness could be a way to find something to use against her. Today he seemed agitated. Nothing new there, and he kept sneezing. Probably allergies. She’d come to the conclusion he hid behind his gruff reputation. Wade told her he had a deep faith, and his dedication to the Secret Service sprang from his relationship to God. But God was loving and didn’t push people away. Maybe someday she’d learn the reason he erected a concrete wall, and when she did, perhaps she could find a way to penetrate it.
“When you finish eating, would you mind checking on Lindsay’s e-mail and texts? Our guy hasn’t contacted her again. He might have a new approach.”
“Any leads?”
“The man shot Sunday night was part of the Medellín Cartel—bold, mean, and gaining power. They’re building a drug-trafficking empire throughout Colombia, and they’re incorporating other smaller dealers by eliminating key persons.”
“How did Lindsay get involved in organized drug smuggling?” Meghan shook her head. “Strike that. They probably targeted her. No surprise when you consider the crowd she runs with.”
“Doesn’t matter. She got sucked in, and they mean business. Unfortunately, that’s all we know since Jorge Ramos is dead. Last night’s e-mail has me furious and alarmed. The guy has guts.” Ash pointed to her plate. “You’d better eat. After the screams we all heard this morning and the energy it must have taken to calm Lindsay, you’ve got to be hungry.”
She stared at her salad. “How did you handle the hallucinations?”
He hesitated as though forming his words. “I tried talking to her, but any act of decency on my part was quickly tossed back. Not that I blame her. As you already know, we have a volatile relationship. Usually I prayed. Sometimes a counselor or her mother witnessed them.”
“Ash, do you pray for her still?”
He studied her for a moment. “Yes, and every member of my team.”
“I do too. This morning when she clung to me, I nearly lost it. I’m a driven woman, so I don’t quite understand her self-destruction.”
“You and I are on the same page when it comes to Lindsay.” He took a deep breath. “I’m glad you’re here for her. Bet you didn’t expect that.”
She smiled and pushed her plate back. What she’d eaten competed with her whirling thoughts. She turned to a computer.
“Meghan, you can’t take the job personally.”
She snapped up, understanding he wasn’t aware of her past. She had her own demons. “You have no clue how I can take a job personally.”
His face registered surprise, but for once, he didn’t say a word.
What was she thinking? “Sorry, sir, I was out of line. No excuse.”
“I understand. We both want so much for Lindsay, but she has to make the first step.”
After retrieving Lindsay’s text messages and finding nothing, Meghan scrolled through their protectee’s e-mail. Friends questioned about the next party and whether she’d gotten a new car. Some offered sympathy because she’d obviously been whisked off to another rehab, or she’d have responded to them. No one mentioned the woman killed in the car bombing or asked if she’d been injured. Meghan reread a message from a supposed male, one that had dropped into Lindsay’s in-box twenty minutes ago.
“Ash, this one reads a little strange, and it doesn’t appear to be from last night’s sender. Maybe it’s my radar. ‘Hey, Lindsay, met you two weeks ago at Dominic’s party. I’m the guy who offered breakfast at my place. I thought I’d try your e-mail. Sorry to hear about your car. The media are going nuts. When can we get together? Are you living with your parents?’”
“Did he sign it?”
“No. Want a tracer sent? Maybe we’ll have better luck this time.”
“Yes, and I’ll ask Warrington to run a background check on this Dominic fellow and see if he can get a list of the others who attended the party. I remember the guy who hosted it, the son of a congressman. Would you mind answering the e-mail? Seems to be your specialty.” Ash worked his way around the table and bent over the back of her chair. The nearness of him unnerved her, his warm breath sending chills along her neck. She needed to end these reactions now.
Meghan read what she’d typed. “‘I remember meeting you but not your name. What did you have in mind?’”
“Send it.”
She refused to look at Ash for fear he’d comment about her reaction to him. “Wonder why he didn’t leave a name, especially if he went to all the trouble of mentioning Dominic?” She glanced at the incoming messages. “Delivery failure. Let me guess . . .” She scrolled down the e-mail. “Unknown user.”
“This pattern could be ego or a new strategy in the game plan.”
“I’ve come across a few of those in my days.” Her memories weren’t pleasant.
“I wish we could figure out who and what are behind stalking the vice president’s daughter. At this point, it still looks like a disgruntled drug dealer. But it has to be more. Drug cartels don’t become powerful without money and intelligence behind them. Whoever is sending these e-mails is daring us to come after him.” He walked back to his own computer. “It’s cold in here. I’m going to bump the AC up a notch.”
Oh, great. He noticed her chill bumps. Meghan sent the e-mail trace. She had to find a way to hide her attraction instead of responding to him like a teenager drooling over the captain of the football team.
“Odd, the temp is set at the same place. Want a cup of coffee?”
Couldn’t he just leave it alone? “No, thanks. I’m cutting back to drinking it in the mornings. Dr. Sanchez’s book is making me feel guilty.”
“I read it too. Much too healthy for me. I hear Lindsay started taking the supplements last night. Even drank a medicine smoothie.”
“I fixed the nasty thing,” Pepper called. “Pink, powdery stuff that’s supposed to taste like strawberries whipped up with ice and blueberries.”
He walked to the door. “Pepper, are you standing in the hallway eavesdropping? This is Secret Service business. When I’m having a discussion with an agent, it doesn’t include you.”
“Unless it’s about Lindsay’s diet. That’s my job. And you left the door open. What was I supposed to do?”
Ash clenched his fists. “Did she drink it all?”
“About half. I tasted it. Not bad for medicine, but it’s not a taste treat either. I’d rather have mine in a margarita.”
Meghan hid a grin. Glancing at her screen, she saw a response to her inquiry about the previous e-mail and waited until Ash closed the door. “Can’t trace the originator.”
Lindsay’s phone buzzed with an incoming text. “It’s the same message that just came through the e-mail. He’s anxious.” Ash typed in a response. “I said, ‘Can’t figure out who you are? Send me more.’ How does that sound?”
“Good. Shows she’s curious.”
Ash pressed Send. A moment later he shook his head. “Message can’t be sent.”
“So whoever is sending the e-mails is smart enough to use a new e-mail address each time, then close out the account. And the texts didn’t show the originator’s number?”
“Right. Must have incoming texts disabled.”
Meghan met his gaze, calculating. “Should I ask Lindsay about him?”
“Go ahead. Might sound better coming from you.”
“Dr. Sanchez mentioned swimming today, since the storms have passed.”
“Good call. It amazes me to see how many people can be bought.” He walked to the end of the study where the wall-to-ceiling window looked out onto the pool. “Ever notice how the sun causes the water to glisten like diamonds? Like a man could reach out and pocket enough to set him up for life.”
“All he’d get is a wet pocket
.”
“My point. But he’d try.”
Chapter 17
Meghan reached for a towel and wiped the perspiration dripping from her face. A dip in the pool would cool her off, especially since her capris were soaked with liquid heat all the way through. Maybe tonight when she was off duty, she’d take a swim. The sun had erased traces of the storms of the past few days and seemed to dance off the turquoise water. Like diamonds. Ash’s statement opened up another side of him, a side that demonstrated he had a philosophical way of viewing life.
She studied Lindsay flirting with Victor and Rick. Her bathing suit had less material than Ethan’s red bandana. Same color, too. Every agent who had a glimpse of the pool did a double take. And Chip Leonard was no exception. What she feared with Lindsay and Chip would no doubt happen soon.
Lindsay paraded around the pool like a beauty pageant contestant, exhibiting none of the fears of this morning. Twenty minutes ago, she didn’t want to walk outside her room. But now she was on stage, and her need for attention was evident to all those present. Sad, but true.
Meghan turned to Dave Sanchez. “I’ve got to ask Lindsay a few hard questions.”
“It’s too soon for her to know about the bombing. And after this morning . . . well, I can’t permit it.”
“It’s not too soon to ask her about the origin of e-mails and texts.”
He lowered his sunglasses to capture her gaze. “You don’t know who sent them?”
“We’re working on that.”
“Are you telling me that with all the technology available to you folks, the origin of these e-mails and texts can’t be found?”
Meghan swallowed her irritation. “I said we are working on it. But I need to talk to Lindsay about content and what she’s willing to tell us about the sender.”
“I can’t allow you to upset her. She’s depressed and fighting withdrawal symptoms. Fragile best describes her.”
Lindsay’s laughter rippled around them, grinding at Meghan’s nerves. Granted the heat didn’t help, but neither did his attitude. “Dave, Lindsay’s health is your area of expertise. The six agents assigned to her are here to ensure she stays alive.”
