The officer shook his head, looking beyond her, his mouth set in a grim line. “Yeah, and he used to love you once. But that’s all over now.” He glanced down at her, tiredness evident in his voice. “You’d better go, there’s nothing else to say. I don’t know how you can live with yourself after what you’ve done to Matt.”
Alanna clenched her hands, anguish in her tone. “Cauley, tell him I was here. Ask him to call me when he gets up. I still love him! I don’t want to lose him. Please…”
“Yeah, sure! See you Monday at the hearing,” were his parting words.
She stood there another minute before she could think coherently enough to move out of the rain. Chilled and shivering, she slid into the Mustang, digging unsuccessfully in her purse for the keys. Hot tears rolled down her face, falling silently onto the wet fabric of her jeans. Somehow, she found the keys in the darkness. Vision blurred, Alanna backed the car out of the driveway and onto the street. Her mind was numb with shock and outrage. Matt no longer loved her. He believed she was going along with the senator’s plan to implicate him. And she was sure Cauley was using the situation to make the final rend in their relationship. Shakily, she tried to concentrate on driving in the gloomy downpour. The windshield wipers moved steadily back and forth, and she drove home in a state of shock.
Alanna stumbled into her Georgetown apartment near midnight. Shivering with cold, she ran a tub of hot water and tried to soak out the feeling of sickness invading her heart and body. Crawling into bed, she curled up into a fetal position, feeling feverish and nauseated. Closing her eyes, she let her body tremble every few seconds with another shudder. Inwardly, she wanted to die. There was no life without Matt. No joy. No love….
She rose before dawn Friday morning, feeling sluggish and lethargic. A depression worse than any she had ever known swamped her. Three different times she had picked up the phone to call Matt, and three times she had lacked the courage to do it. She knew Cauley would be there and would intercept the call. Cauley had probably also neglected to inform Matt that she had driven out to see him. Rubbing her pale features, she finally got off the couch and stumbled into the kitchen to make coffee.
At six-thirty the phone began ringing. She flew across the living room, thinking it might be Matt calling. Instead, it was only the first of a series of reporters and newsmen inquiring about the investigation Monday morning. By ten, Alanna was experiencing a degree of anxiety she had never felt before. She was torn between taking the phone off the hook and angrily telling the reporters to leave her alone. But if she did take it off the hook, Matt might not be able to get through. To take her mind off the dilemma, she dressed and tore open the packet Senator Thornton had given her at the office.
Her stomach tightened into a huge knot as she read with disbelief the report she had submitted to Thornton after returning from Costa Rica. Paragraphs had either been deleted or changed to implicate Matt. She read the report slowly, making notations where she knew the material had been changed. Examining the black and white photos, she saw with remorse that one of the crates had been taken from the wrong angle, so that the lettering was unreadable. It was the only one featured in the pictures. Matt was leaning over the crate, and her heart squeezed with anxiety. What would the other senators think when they saw it? Would they believe she had caught him in the act of stealing the supplies?
By noon her temperature had risen dramatically, and she was feeling ill and weak. Gathering up the annotated report, she dressed in a pair of woolen slacks and a warm sweater and slipped on her winter coat. The weather was ugly outside, with rain falling in a steady drizzle as she drove to the Hill. Alanna ignored all the social amenities once she arrived at the office and went directly to Peggy’s desk. The secretary looked up.
“What are you doing in here? I thought Senator Thornton gave you the day off.”
“I have to talk to him, Peggy.” Her voice shook with barely controlled anger.
“Well—”
Alanna looked toward the closed door of Thornton’s office. “Right now,” she grated.
“He’s out to lunch, I’m afraid,” she answered briskly, arranging a stack of papers.
A wave of dizziness swept over Alanna, and she closed her eyes for a moment. Taking a deep breath, she planted her feet apart to steady herself. “When will he be back?”
Peggy took her time in consulting his appointment book. “Oh my, I forgot. He’s taking part in a vote up on the Hill this afternoon. After that he and his wife are flying down to North Carolina to stay with Representative Benton over the weekend.” She gave Alanna a weak smile. “Sorry.”
It was almost impossible to think rationally due to the fever. “Who worked on the final preparation of the hearing report, then?”
“Why, I believe the senator’s two attorneys.”
“Bill Sullivan and Henry Bauman?” she demanded, frowning.
“Yes, I believe so. Why?” she asked sweetly, fixing a saccharine smile on her mouth.
* * *
Alanna wearily leaned against the door of her apartment, physically exhausted by the short trip to the Hill. She dropped the briefcase near the couch and shrugged out of her damp coat. Going to the bathroom, she opened the medicine cabinet and swallowed two aspirin. Determined to get in touch with Matt, she returned to the couch, dialing his number.
The phone rang eight times before Alanna reluctantly set it back down into the cradle. Tears gathered in her eyes. She slipped off her shoes, lying down on the couch and sobbing softly. Her body shook with spasms as the pent-up frustration and anxiety flowed from her. A horrible sense of dread washed over her when she analyzed the situation. Various sections of her report were missing or changed, and the film which would vindicate Matt had disappeared. She had never trusted Bauman; there was nothing she could put her finger on, but the feeling was a strong one. She had worked closely with him and Sullivan before, and a new sense of spiraling dread made her already nauseated stomach churn even more.
Finally rising, Alanna took a hot bath and climbed back into bed, exhausted. As sleep came, she thought of Matt and how much she loved him. Each time Jim Cauley’s words rang in her mind, a new flow of tears streaked down her cheeks. “He used to love you once,” Cauley had said. Gripping her pillow with renewed anguish, she gave in to the exhaustion and slept.
* * *
She awoke late Saturday morning with the phone ringing. Stumbling blindly out of bed, Alanna made it to the living room. She coughed heavily, a deep rattle in her chest as she picked up the receiver. Her heart thudded with despair when she discovered it was another nosy reporter calling.
Alanna slammed the phone down. She had another coughing attack, gripping her chest and gasping for breath. She felt hot again and decided to take more aspirin. After making coffee, she phoned Matt’s house.
“Hello?”
Her heart sank. It was Jim Cauley. Taking a deep breath she said, “This is Alanna. I want to speak to Matt.”
“He isn’t here,” came the terse reply.
“Where is he?”
“Over at the Pentagon with General Green preparing his opening statement for Monday. Why don’t you quit trying to reach him, he doesn’t want to talk to you.”
Alanna gasped softly, gripping the phone. “No—that isn’t true! Didn’t you tell him I drove over to talk with him?”
“I did, and he said he doesn’t want to see you. Is that plain enough for you, Ms. McIntire?” The line suddenly went dead, and Alanna shakily lowered the phone from her ear, staring at it. A tidal wave of anguish slammed into her, and she dropped the receiver, a cry breaking from her lips.
* * *
Monday morning dawned, funeral-pyre gray in color. The freezing drizzle continued. The clouds were a turbulent, angry mass, and the wind rose and fell erratically. Alanna woodenly went through the motions of dressing in a dark navy blue wool suit and white silk blouse, barely conscious of pinning her dark hair back into a severe chignon at the nape of her neck. She had
fought the cold all weekend, but she felt even worse now. On Sunday she had tried to concentrate on the report, memorizing passages that were incorrect. A heaviness pressed against her chest, making breathing difficult. She looked into the bathroom mirror. Her jade eyes were dark with torment, sunken against the paleness of her features. Two pink fever spots showed on her cheeks, and bruised shadows were visible beneath each of her eyes, making her appear haggard and drawn. Even her mouth was thinned, the corners pulled in, indicating the severity of emotional pain that she was experiencing. Alanna was too exhausted to put on much makeup and chose a pale pink lipstick for her mouth. In less than two hours she would see Matt. Her brows moved downward at the thought, and she felt tears gathering in her eyes. No, she mustn’t cry. Not anymore. Every time she whispered his name or pictured him in her mind, her heart wrenched with new-found pain. A chill shot through her, and Alanna felt deathly cold. Picking up her navy blue jacket, she slipped it on.
At exactly nine o’clock she arrived at her office and grimly moved toward the Senator’s door. Peggy smiled cheerfully as Alanna walked by her desk.
“This is your big day, Alanna. Just think, you’ll be on every national newscast by this evening giving your testimony. Aren’t you excited?”
Alanna barely gave her a glance as she strode into Thornton’s office. He was meeting with the two attorneys and a number of other aides when she entered. A knife of dread twisted in her stomach. Thornton looked ecstatic, laughing and smiling genially with Sullivan and Bauman. Compressing her lips into a single line, Alanna walked silently up to the group of men, her briefcase tightly clenched in her left hand.
“Senator, may I speak to you alone for a minute?” she asked, her voice husky with strain.
All three men turned simultaneously. Thornton eyed her critically for a second, frowning.
“Are you all right, Alanna? You look pale.”
She waved it off. “Just a chest cold, nothing more.”
Henry Bauman, the head attorney for Thornton, smiled. “Your voice sounds an octave lower. Just don’t go hoarse on me up there today.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t. Senator, may I have a few minutes of your time? This is important.”
“Of course, anything for our star witness. Gentlemen, I’ll see you later.”
She remained standing, feeling lightheaded. It had to be from the tension, she thought. Thornton smiled warmly, motioning her to sit down.
“Have a seat, Alanna. Sorry you’re feeling under the weather. By tonight you’ll be a national celebrity. That will be quite a coup for you, my dear.”
She remained on her feet. “I’ve gone over that report you’ve given to the investigation committee, Senator, and I’ve noted several errors in the text,” she began as evenly as possible. A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed against it. “My report has been drastically changed, and I want to know why.”
“New information came to our attention after your initial report arrived, Alanna.”
“Then why wasn’t I put in charge of piecing it together?” she asked, her voice husky with restrained fury.
Thornton shrugged. “Look, you were on the road, and I decided to turn it over to Henry. He’s had extensive experience with this sort of project, and I felt he was the best one to make subsequent changes in light of the situation.”
A wave of dizziness swept over her, and she was forced to sit down, the briefcase resting tensely across her thighs. “That still doesn’t explain where the missing canister of film went.”
He gave her a perplexed glance. “There was only one, Alanna. I’ve told you before.” He suddenly laughed and came over, patting her gently on the shoulder. “My dear, you were thoroughly exhausted when you arrived from Costa Rica. And after reading your report, I can see why you might have been out of sorts upon your return. Don’t look so disappointed, it happens to the best of us.”
Her fingers tightened on the handle. “I don’t care what anyone says, Senator Thornton, there was a second roll of film. Somehow, it has gotten misplaced or—”
Thornton swung around, his eyes black and ominous. “I’ve waited too long for this moment, Alanna,” he purred silkily. “You’re an intelligent girl. Just read the report which has been prepared, and let Henry present the affidavits from the various Costa Rican officials.” He gripped her elbow, gingerly escorting her out of the office. “After all, my dear, you’ve just been promoted and given a very handsome raise. Stephen,” he called, motioning for the chauffeur to come forward, “please escort Alanna and Henry over to the Senate chambers.” He consulted his watch. “In thirty minutes the proceedings begin.” He smiled wolfishly at her, motioning for her to take the lead.
Once in the limo, Alanna took the opposite side of the seat from Bauman. Her heart pounded in her chest just before she spoke.
“Henry, I think you ought to know something.”
Bauman turned, studying her closely. “Yes?”
“I won’t go though with this. I think you know that. I won’t allow my report to be altered by lies and deceit.”
One eyebrow rose in reaction, and he managed a smile. “Weren’t the pay raise and promotion enough, Alanna?” he inquired softly.
“I’ve never accepted a bribe,” she hissed.
“How long have you been up here on the Hill? Goodness, I’d think you’d know by now the power and importance this position you’ve been given commands. You’ll have this city at your feet.”
She compressed her lips, glaring at him. “I won’t do it!”
“I think you will,” he began. “Do you realize that Colonel Breckenridge has told us about your little affair with him in Costa Rica, my dear?” He rubbed his palms together and gave her a smile of satisfaction. “Don’t look so surprised. When heat’s applied, you’d be surprised what people will do to save their own skins. Your dear colonel and his blessed attorneys will use that fact to try to discredit you. They’ll call you a woman scorned out for revenge. If you try to claim the report fraudulent, you’re going to get caught in the crossfire. Breckenridge has already declared you one of the enemy. You’d better stick with your friends.”
Alanna gasped, the full implication slamming into her. “I can’t believe Matt would do that,” she cried hoarsely. She gripped her briefcase. “He wouldn’t,” she protested. Bauman looked supremely confident, cool and collected as she searched his bland face for some hint that he was lying.
“My dear, we also know about Colonel Breckenridge and how Tim really died out there in Vietnam. So you see, the whole messy bucket of worms has been spilled. And if you think you’re going in there to call this report a fabrication, you’d better think twice.”
Alanna sat back, feeling faint. My God, how had it all happened? “How—”
“We told Colonel Breckenridge that you spilled the goods on Tim’s death,” Bauman added.
“I said nothing!”
“Who’s going to disprove it? The Marine advisers on Colonel Breckenridge’s case believe it. As I said, if you claim fraud, we’ll say that the report was amended to include later evidence. My dear, if you agree to go along with the report as I’ve edited it, I’ll make sure you’re properly defended so that your reputation and job are secure. It’s obvious the colonel has no feelings for you.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, the world spinning crazily around her. Did Matt believe she had told Senator Thornton? That would explain why he never tried to phone her before the hearing!
“And don’t forget the bank account under the good colonel’s name down in Costa Rica. We’ve got him,” Bauman growled. “Right where we want him.” He glanced over at her. “You look positively white, Alanna. I’d go powder my nose once we get to the chambers, and try to look a little less frightened. It won’t look good on television, you know….”
Her head was throbbing in pain when the crush of reporters and television cameras descended upon them the instant they left the safety of the limousine. Helplessly, Alanna was propelled along, B
auman at her arm. A sense of utter unreality chilled her as they swept into the large hearing chamber. She had no time to look toward the other block of seats and tables where she knew Matt must be sitting. Instead, Bauman deftly deposited her at the front table, which stretched like a crescent before the awesome tribunal of senators sitting above them. Two microphones were pushed at her, and Alanna pulled the chair closer. Bauman gave her a brief, cutting appraisal and then set about digging out an incredible array of affidavits, papers, and long, yellow legal pads.
Her heart was hammering wildly in her breast, and she remained frozen, staring up at the senators. Another chill ravaged her fevered body as she watched Thornton shake a few hands and seat himself as one of the investigating committee, a smug smile on his mouth.
Regardless of the pain it might cause her, Alanna lifted her chin and let her gaze sweep across the other half of the crowded room. Her breath lodged in her throat as she spotted Matt sitting at the front table surrounded by military officers. The memory of meeting him at the San Jose Airport exploded inside her head. It was the same Matt, incredibly handsome, eyes narrowed with concentration and mouth thinned with tightly leashed emotions. The dark green wool uniform he wore only strengthened the image of a warrior ready to do battle. The ribbons on the left breast of his uniform attested to his brilliant service career as well as to countless personal sacrifices. But Alanna looked beyond the impressive exterior and saw a man who once more was prepared to combat the dictates of fate with a stoic acceptance that she could not comprehend. The situation had nearly paralyzed her with conflicting emotions and uncertainty. Yet Matt looked serene and quietly confident in the face of it all. His strength awed her, left her despising herself for her own weakness. Matt’s courage was a beacon of hope. Gazing at him, she knew she must protect him, no matter what the cost to herself. She broke out in another cold sweat, her eyes widening as he lifted his head after conferring with an officer at his left. It was as if he were uncannily aware that she was watching him.
Their eyes met and locked. Alanna’s lips parted, and she wanted to scream and warn him that he was being framed by Thornton. His gaze was cool and unreadable as he assessed her. She felt heat rushing into her cheeks and tears blurred her vision. Perhaps it was her imagination or the raging fever that was clouding her mind, but Alanna thought she saw his gaze flicker with concern. Her heart wrenched in that split-second, and she tore her eyes away from him, unable to stand the pain that she saw in his expression. Alanna had expected hate and anger. Instead, she had sensed something quite different—something that left her confused and shaken. There had been no animosity in Matt’s eyes. He didn’t hate her! Wildly, she tried to name the emotion she had seen there. Empathy? Certainly not a look of pity. She clasped her perspiring hands in her lap, unable to make sense of the silent communication that had taken place in that one, brief glance.
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