Expose

by Saranne Dawson

  Of course, he didn’t know that she’d found the so-called “clinic,” since she’d told him that she’d gone back to New Leaf again. And she didn’t intend to tell him, either—at least not until she had some real evidence of illegalities there.

  “They could have killed me, but they didn’t,” she said, rather amazed at how calm she sounded, and not pleased to realize how safe she felt here with Sam. “I think that means something. If they’d wanted to kill me, they could have just shot me from the car and it would have seemed like one more drive-by shooting.”

  Sam said nothing and she couldn’t see his expression as he stared down at the coffee mug he was cradling between his hands.

  “Well, don’t you agree?” she asked impatiently.

  “I suppose so,” he replied, still not looking up at her. “But that doesn’t mean they won’t do it the next time.” He got to his feet, shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and began to pace around the bathroom. “I’m trying, Kate. You’ve got to give me some credit for that.”

  “Trying what?” she asked, although she thought she knew. If she was right, this was a discussion she didn’t want to have right now.

  “I’m trying to be what you want me to be, but it just isn’t working. I…I love you, Kate, and I just can’t stand by and watch you risk your life like this to prove that you’re as good as I am.”

  She had to fight an urge to cover her ears. She didn’t want to hear that he still loved her—not now and maybe not ever. So she chose to focus on the rest of his statement even as her bruised body reacted to his declaration of love.

  “Wouldn’t you be doing just that if our situations were reversed? I mean, wouldn’t you be trying to prove your worth as a journalist?”

  “No. Yes. Hell, I don’t know. I just got lucky early on, that’s all. A story that seemed minor was given to me and it turned out to be a big one.”

  “Well, this could be my big one,” she declared, hiding her surprise at this glimpse of uncertainty she’d never before seen in him.

  “Doesn’t it mean anything that I still love you?” he asked suddenly.

  “Of course it does, but I don’t have the time to think about it right now.”

  Sam chuckled and shook his head as he sat down on the rim of the tub. “Thanks for feeding my ego, Kitty-Kat.”

  “Your ego doesn’t need any feeding. It never did.”

  “You’re wrong about that,” he said, grinning. “It’s a pretty humbling experience to be told you can’t have the only woman you want.”

  “It seems to me that you didn’t spend a lot of time licking your wounds,” she stated acerbically. “It couldn’t have been more than three or four months before I saw pictures of you with your model girlfriend.”

  Sam rolled his eyes. “I knew that was going to come up at some point.”

  “So?”

  “So what?”

  “Are you going to tell me it was just a platonic relationship?”

  “No, we did have an affair. Is that what you want to hear? We were divorced, Kate. I haven’t asked about the men in your life since then.”

  She opened her mouth to tell him that there hadn’t been any, but quickly changed her mind. She just didn’t want him to know that she hadn’t found anyone who could wipe him out of her mind. In fact, she wished she had.

  “The water’s getting cold,” she said and started to stand.

  Sam jumped up and grabbed a towel, then helped her from the tub and wrapped her in it. He picked her up and carried her through the door into the adjoining bedroom, where he deposited her onto the bed and began to dry her.

  “Are you feeling better?” he asked.

  She nodded, unable to even begin to explain all the conflicting emotions she was feeling at the moment. She wanted to tell him that she still loved him, but she held back the words. To speak them now would be to plunge them both back into their messy past.

  When he had finished rubbing her dry, he tossed away the towel and drew the bed covers over her, then began to strip off his own clothes.

  Every muscle and bone in her body still ached, despite the bath. Her stomach felt queasy and her head throbbed. Surely, she thought, no normal person would be thinking about sex at a time like this. There had to be something wrong with her.

  Sam slid in beside her, yawning. He gave her a quick kiss and rolled over onto his side, turning away from her. Kate was crestfallen—at least until she realized that she’d paid no attention at all to the time. She turned her head and checked the clock on the nightstand. It was just after one o’clock in the afternoon.

  “What’s wrong?” Sam muttered sleepily.

  “Were you at the hospital with me all night?”

  He rolled over and frowned at her. “Of course.”

  Her eyes slid away from his. Of course. There she was, hung up on words again—words this time that sent a thrill of warmth through her. She felt cherished, and it was a good feeling, one she hadn’t had for three years. He had rolled over again and she moved closer to him, then kissed the point of his shoulder.

  “Thank you, Sam.”

  “Why’re you thanking me?” he murmured.

  “Uh, well, you didn’t have to do that, you know.”

  “Your brain must be screwed up after all,” he muttered in a voice thick with sleep.

  She thought that he just might be right. Of course he’d come. She knew that. Sam would always be there for her—whether she wanted it or not. She drifted toward sleep, wondering if she was taking him for granted and thinking that was not a very good idea.

  “HAVE YOU EVER HEARD of the Organization for Responsible Drug Policy—ORDP?” Sam asked.

  Kate turned to Sam and frowned. “It doesn’t sound familiar. Why?”

  “Well, it took some serious digging by The Ferret, but they may be channeling funds to Newbury through that Political Action Committee of his.”

  “The Ferret” was everyone’s nickname for the Post’s researcher, who was renowned for his ability to ferret out information, through both his considerable computer expertise and his impressive network of contacts. He was always overburdened with requests, but it didn’t surprise Kate that he’d put Sam’s request at the top of the list. He’d always liked Sam, at least in part because Sam had lobbied hard for the new and more powerful computer The Ferret had wanted.

  “But you aren’t sure?” she asked.

  “No, not at this point, but we’re working on it. What happened is that I came across some new names on the list of contributors to Newbury’s PAC. Most of the others were regulars, or else I could tie their contributions directly to matters before Newbury’s committees at the time. So I asked The Ferret to run them, and it turned out that two of the three are on the board of ORDP.

  “So he checked on the organization, and it turns out that they’re new. Their charter says that they do research into drug policy issues. They seem to have a lot of money to throw around, too. And here’s the really interesting part. A couple of other names on the board caught The Ferret’s attention. It turns out that they’ve been associated for years with other groups that have been trying to get drugs—especially marijuana—legalized. But the two new contributors to Newbury’s PAC have no history of such activities. The Ferret’s trying to get a line on them, but he’s not getting anywhere.”

  Kate stared into the gathering dusk in the small backyard. They’d both slept away the day—or at least she had. Sam had gotten up a few hours ago.

  “So this group—ORDP—could be responsible for Newbury’s change of mind?”

  “I’d say that’s a distinct possibility, but I haven’t found any evidence of illegality.”

  “Still, it could be embarrassing for him to have it come out that he’s receiving money from such a group.”

  ‘‘No more embarrassing than everything else that’s come out about him over the years. Even if they’re advocating legalization, they’ve got lots of company.”

  Kate sighed. “You
’re right. It doesn’t sound like a good enough reason to be threatening me. Still, maybe I should find this ORDP and talk to them.”

  “My thoughts exactly. Maybe you can get a line on their position. Their headquarters are in Bethesda.”

  The phone rang and Sam picked up the cordless. From what she could hear, Kate assumed it must be The Ferret, and she waited impatiently for Sam to fill her in. This story and the New Leaf story were raising her frustration level to an all-time high.

  Sam put down the phone with a frown. “That was The Ferret. He finally got a line on those two new contributors to Newbury’s PAC who are on the ORDP board, but it doesn’t make much sense.”

  “Who are they?”

  “Both of them are money men—guys who operate on the legal and ethical edges of the financial markets. The SEC’s investigated them both at one time or another, but never brought any charges.”

  “They sound like kindred spirits for Newbury,” Kate said with disgust.

  “Yeah. I can see them contributing to him. They’re probably into something that he has some control over on one of his committees. But why would they be on the board of ORDP?”

  “Could they have any connection to the pharmaceutical companies?” Kate asked. “The man I talked to at Brookings said that the drug companies could benefit big time if drugs are legalized and they chose to go into the business.”

  Sam picked up the phone again. “Good thought. Let me get The Ferret working on that.”

  But before he could punch out The Ferret’s number, the phone rang. Sam answered and then remained silent. A chill ran through Kate as she saw his expression darken. Then he put down the phone without a word.

  “What is it?” Kate asked.

  “He said I should tell you that they won’t make any mistakes next time,” Sam said grimly.

  “I’m not giving up, Sam.”

  “Kate, whatever this is, it isn’t worth your life!”

  “So I’ll be more careful. I admit that I was pretty dumb to do what I did last night.”

  “I still don’t understand why you were trying to hide from me the fact that you went out to New Leaf again.”

  “I told you. I wasn’t trying to hide it. I just decided to go out there, and I took the car back so you wouldn’t have to pay for an extra day.”

  “Sometimes you just don’t think—and that’s what scares me. You zero in on something and just forget about everything and everyone else.”

  “We’ve had this discussion before, Sam—many times. It’s just the way I am.” But his words stung, reminding her once again that it was likely that she, too, bore some of the responsibility for their shattered marriage. “When I married you, I thought I was marrying someone who would understand my profession.”

  “I do understand it.”

  “No, you don’t. You think it’s perfectly okay for you to put yourself at risk, but it’s not okay for me to do the same.”

  “I love you, Kate, and—”

  “No, you don’t love me. What you love is what you think Ishould be.”

  “You’re not making any sense.”

  “I’m making perfect sense. I just promised you that I’ll be careful—and I will!”

  Sam heaved a deep sigh. “Well, I don’t have any choice but to accept that, do I?”

  “No, you don’t.”

  Sam called The Ferret to ask him to check on a drug company connection for the two men. Kate yawned and leaned back in her chaise lounge, staring out into the darkness, where she could just see Reject at the back of the yard, prowling about in the eternal hope of finding something to supplement his already more than adequate diet.

  Sam’s fears for her were beginning to affect her—or perhaps she was suffering a belated reaction to her two brushes with death. He would undoubtedly say it was about time.

  In light of what Sam and The Ferret had learned, Kate discounted her earlier thoughts that the New Leaf story could be responsible for the threats, and once again began to think about dropping that project for now. Keeping the two stories straight in her mind was becoming something of a problem in any event.

  “ARE YOU SICK?”

  “No, I’m thinking.”

  “Some people might say it’s sick to be thinking at four in the morning,” Sam observed with a yawn.

  “You must be getting old. We used to stay up later than this, arguing.”

  Sam chuckled and sat up in bed, then rested his chin in the curve of her shoulder as he pressed against her. It was something he’d often done—a small, unimportant gesture, but one that had a very powerful effect upon her now. It was strange, she thought, that such dumb little things could be so comforting and seem so important.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked, his fingers toying with the hem of her nightshirt, which had ridden high on her thighs.

  “That man in the pickup—the one I think might have shot at me. I woke up thinking about him, and it seemed that in my sleep, I remembered where I’d seen him before.”

  Sam grunted, but it was clear that his mind was elsewhere at the moment as he began to stroke her thigh, moving tantalizingly close to that part of her that he was awakening.

  “Stop it, Sam,” she said without any real conviction. “I can’t think when you’re doing that.”

  She felt his smile against her shoulder. “That’s the general idea.”

  “But that man could be important. If I can tie him to Newbury and Armistead—”

  “He’s not more important than some other things. Us, for example.”

  “Don’t do this to me, Sam. I don’t want to talk about us now.”

  “Okay, but we have to at some point, you know.”

  “I know,” she admitted, thinking that only a short time ago, she’d stated quite firmly that there was no us.

  “We belong together, Kate.”

  “Belonging together and living together are two different things, Sam.”

  His fingers slid higher and he began to run his tongue along the sensitive skin near her earlobe. Kate let her thoughts about the man in the pickup slide away and surrendered herself to the pleasure it seemed only Sam could give her.

  “The doctor said I should rest,” she murmured in a husky voice.

  “So rest. I’ll do all the work.”

  But he didn’t. She ignored her still-aching body, and after a while decided that warm baths didn’t hold a candle to Sam. But then, nothing ever had.

  IT CAME TO HER as she was making her way out of the dark depths of sleep. Sam was gone, but she could hear him clattering around in the kitchen downstairs, either talking to Reject or to someone on the phone.

  She’d seen the man in the pickup at New Leaf! He’d come in to replace a fluorescent bulb that had been buzzing an-noyingly while she talked to Tony. She could visualize it so easily now. Or perhaps she was visualizing it too easily. Maybe there’d been only a superficial resemblance. Besides, she’d gotten only a very brief glimpse of the man in the pickup, and there was nothing all that distinctive about his looks in any case.

  But if she was right…Kate swore softly. It seemed that each time she was about to let the New Leaf story go, something kept her at it. Did that tell her something?

  She heard Sam’s steps on the stairs. Should she tell him? She made a quick decision not to. She still felt very possessive about the New Leaf story. Still, she was feeling a twinge of guilt when Sam walked in, carrying a large breakfast tray with folding legs that they’d found in an antiques store on Maryland’s Eastern Shore one weekend. Kate had pronounced it the height of decadence and Sam had promptly bought it.

  “There’s a message on the machine from someone named Tony. He’s that counselor from the boot camp, isn’t he?” Sam asked as he set down the tray carefully, then joined her in the big bed.

  She nodded as she reached for the orange juice, glad to be feeling hungry again. Maybe it was the bath or maybe it was Sam, but she didn’t feel as achy, either.

  “What wa
s the message?’’

  “He said to phone him, but to wait until tonight and call him at home. He left the number.”

  Interesting, she thought. He doesn’t want me to call him at work. Or maybe he’s just hard to reach there. She knew he spent most of his time in counseling sessions with the boys.

  “Is anything happening with that story?” Sam asked.

  She shook her head, wondering if it was less wrong to lie without speaking.

  “How are you feeling this morning?” he asked, his blue eyes gleaming with the memory of last night.

  “Much better. The bath must have helped.”

  “Right,” he nodded, his mouth twitching with amusement. “I’ve been thinking about that idea we had to put in a hot tub downstairs. If we’d had that, it would have helped a lot more.”

  “Maybe so, but since I don’t plan to fall down escalators again anytime soon, I think we can forget about it. Besides, I can’t afford it.”

  “I can. I’m going to get some estimates.”

  She was about to remind him that the house wasn’t his any longer, but the words stuck in her throat, even though she’d had no problem saying them very forcefully only a short time ago.

  “I’m going to try to get an appointment today to talk to the people at ORDP,” she announced, moving the discussion back to business.

  “Are you sure you’re feeling up to it?”

  She nodded. “Besides, I can’t just sit around here waiting for them to try something else.”

  She hoped that he wouldn’t notice the slight thinning of her voice as she thought about the threats hanging over her, but of course he did. He reached out to touch her face, gently brushing away a few strands of hair.

  “It’s okay to be scared, Kate. I spent the last three years being scared a lot of the time.”

  “Then why did you do it, Sam?” She paused and drew in a quavering breath, knowing she shouldn’t be saying what she was about to say. “Every time I saw you on TV, I worried that it would be the last time—that I’d hear you’d been killed in some godforsaken place I couldn’t even find on the map.”