by Justine Davis, Amy J. Fetzer, Katherine Garbera, Meredith Fletcher, Catherine Mann
“You’re quiet. Should I be scared?” Ben asked as they drove west on I-495.
She turned her head on the seat rest to look at him. They’d left D.C. in the middle of the afternoon. Traffic had been heavy, but Ben had maneuvered his way through it with his usual skill.
“No.”
He drove in silence as they turned onto Route 50. Tory watched the dappled sunlight filter through the trees and felt some of the tension lingering in her gut ease. This was a great day to be alive. She reached across the expanse of the two seats and settled her hand on Ben’s thigh.
Thankfully he said nothing, only lowered his big, warm hand on top of hers. The facts of the story she was investigating ran through her head with dizzying speed, and she knew that if she could just let everything settle down for a day she’d be able to put it together.
“Who will be at your grandfather’s for the holiday?” she asked at last. She suspected Alex would be there. But she wasn’t sure if the Forsythes had a big dinner party.
“Just the family. Grandfather, my mother, Alex and her new beau, Justin Cohen.”
“I haven’t met him yet.” Alex had met Justin while seeking answers about Rainy’s death.
Justin had been looking for answers, too—about why his sister had died twenty years ago after agreeing to be a surrogate mother. Around the same time they suspected that Rainy’s eggs had been mined and Thomas King’s sperm had been stolen. They had no proof, but all the Cassandras believed Justin’s sister had probably carried Rainy’s child. Hospital records said the baby had died, too, but they were all beginning to wonder.
“I have. He’s a good guy. Just the right kind of man for Alex. He works for the FBI, too.”
Like all the Cassandras, Alex was doing all she could to figure out what was going on with Rainy’s eggs and who had killed Rainy.
“What will we tell Alex?” Tory asked. Years as a television journalist, and she blurted that question out as if she were a rookie.
“About what?” he asked, lifting one eyebrow at her.
Was she acting like a idiot about Ben? Was she making a mountain out of a molehill?
“Tory?”
She shrugged. “About…us.”
A mile or so passed before Ben responded. “Nothing. She’s my little sister, not my keeper.”
“She’s also one of my best friends.” Which was what really bothered her. Normally Tory would have called Alex the minute she’d arrived in D.C. Instead she’d been wary of talking to her old friend. Afraid she’d somehow reveal Ben’s secret.
“Don’t sweat the details, Tory. Everyone will think I charmed you.” His tone was light and she knew he was trying to reassure her.
She decided to let him for now. She’d been friends with Alex too long to let anything come between them. “I’ve seen your version of charm—we should both be sweating.”
He lifted her hand from his thigh and kissed the back of it, then smiled and drove on, seemingly unaffected.
He executed a series of turns that brought them to Forsythe Farms. Ben made the turn into the drive and stopped at the security gate. He got a remote and pressed a series of numbers into it. The gate slid open and he drove through.
He waited for the gate to close again before continuing on to the house. She’d never thought about the security precautions that must be implicit in being Charles Forsythe’s grandchildren. “Was it restrictive?”
“Was what?”
“Growing up with this kind of security.”
“No. Actually I think these circumstances are partially responsible for the way I live.”
“How?”
“Grandfather made life so normal and yet at the same time taught us safety skills. It just feels right to live two lives—to blend two very different lifestyles.”
He shrugged and she knew she’d get him to say no more. But she understood exactly what he meant. Another piece of the puzzle that was Bennington Forsythe slipped into place.
Ben pulled to a stop in the circular drive. Alex’s Lexus SUV was parked in the driveway, and Tory’s hands began to sweat.
Her reaction was ridiculous. She knew Alex wouldn’t be bothered that Tory was dating her brother. “Are we dating?”
“Trying to figure out what to tell Alex?”
“Yes.”
Ben leaned across the seat and cupped her jaw. “Tell her you enchanted me.”
“I thought your other persona didn’t have corny lines.”
“That’s not corny. It’s romantic.”
“Are you going to sit in the car all day or are you coming inside?” Charles Forsythe asked as he opened Ben’s car door.
The Forsythes were very warm and welcoming. Of course, Tory knew the family through Alex. And their grandfather Charles had been one of the founders of Athena Academy. Alex had greeted her enthusiastically when she and Ben had walked into the house, but they hadn’t had a chance to talk.
Alex looked happy with Justin Cohen. More than happy. Her eyes glowed with an inner warmth that Tory had never seen in her friend before.
Justin’s intensity reminded her of Ben. Another powerful male presence. They were all in the dinner room eating a light supper. Charles sat at the head of the table, Alex on his left and Ben on his right. Tory sat next to Ben, and Justin next to Alex. Veronica was at the far end.
Tory and Ben still wore the clothes they’d traveled in. Tory had on a pair of camel-colored trousers and a black sweater. Veronica was going to a party in D.C. later on so she was dressed for an evening out. Alex, as always, looked classy.
“How was Miami, Ben?” Alex asked when they’d all settled at the table to eat dinner.
Tory tipped her head to glance at Ben. She remembered their meeting on Puerto Isla and knew that if she and Ben remained a couple she’d never be able to share that story with anyone. Ben winked at her in that sly way of his.
“Fun. You can’t beat the warm weather and suntanned beauties on Florida’s Gold Coast. I stayed with some friends of yours, Mother.”
“The Bentons. Did you get on well with Amanda? She’d make an excellent daughter-in-law,” Veronica said, without sparing a glance for Tory.
Ben squeezed her leg under the table. “Now, Mother, you know I never kiss and tell…but I think you’d be disappointed with Amanda.”
“I doubt that,” Veronica said. Tory knew from Alex that Veronica wanted her offspring married and married well.
“How did you two hook up?” Alex asked.
Tory could only stare at her friend. She knew that Ben wasn’t supposed to have been on Puerto Isla, so she wasn’t sure what to say. She glanced at Ben.
“We met in the Miami airport. I was my usual charming self and she couldn’t resist me.”
“Ha. Have you heard the corny lines he uses? I’m beginning to think Bennington Forsythe, legendary lover, is a child’s bedtime story.”
There was a moment of silence and Tory rubbed the back of her neck. Maybe she shouldn’t have said something that might lead the others to investigate Ben’s supposed jet-setting.
“Do you see the abuse I have to put up with?” Ben asked. Wearing jeans and a Nordic sweater, he didn’t look like his playboy image. And here with his family he was at ease. She noticed he was careful to not let any subject get too weighty and hardly five minutes went by without Ben making some kind of joke or teasing comment.
“Big bro, you always have thought you were too slick for your own good.”
“Hey, what’d I do to deserve this abuse? Grandpa, help me out here.”
“You did it to yourself, my boy.” Charles wore a pleased expression. Tory sensed he was happy to have both his grandchildren back under his roof.
Dinner continued with lots of ribbing. Even Veronica was teased by both of her children about a man who was interested in her. Tory enjoyed seeing this side of both Alex and Ben.
Dinner ended and Veronica left to go to the party. Alex and Justin went for a walk and Tory found herself alone with two enigmas. She saw a lo
t of Charles in Ben.
“Can we speak in your study?” Ben asked his grandfather.
“Go ahead. I have to make a call and I’ll join you.”
Tory followed Ben down the hall and into the bookshelf-lined room. Tory walked in and stood for a moment to absorb the old-world elegance of the room.
“I think you should tell my grandfather what you have, Tory. He’ll be able to add some insight.”
Tory bit her lip, undecided. She didn’t want Ben or Charles taking over the Puerto Isla matter. She’d wanted to figure it out on her own. God, she was whining, she thought. Charles Forsythe had been in the Washington intelligence community for a long time. Tory would be a fool not to ask him for some advice.
The door opened and Charles walked into the room. Tory and Ben were still standing a foot apart watching each other. Tory nodded to Ben.
“Anyone want a drink?” Charles asked.
“I’ll take a Scotch,” Ben said.
“I’ll have something sweet.”
Charles fixed them both drinks, as well as one for himself. Tory took a sip of her liquor and found it to be amaretto. She knew the drink was one of Alex’s favorites. She closed her eyes and forgot for a minute that she was in Ben’s family home. She concentrated on the fact that this was also the home of one of her Athena sisters. She remembered how, when they’d all first arrived at Athena, they’d been too competitive with each other to accomplish anything.
Rainy had tricked them into putting their differences aside. Individually they were all powerful women, but together…together they were awesome.
Tory knew that Rainy was reminding her that sometimes she had to ask for help to find the answers she was seeking.
“I could use your advice,” Tory said. Ben took her arm and seated her on the leather love seat.
“What kind of advice?” Charles asked, sitting down on one of the winged green leather armchairs.
“Tory’s chasing a story that keeps getting more complicated. I’m working the military angle and she’s doing the political thing, but we’re missing something. And you dabble in both, so…”
“What have you got?”
Tory recapped everything she’d learned from Tom King, Ruben Jimenez, Dave Addler and Paul Terrence. “Ben spoke to General McKinley’s aide. He made several trips to the interior of Puerto Isla, and on the night the SEAL team went in to rescue the hostages, McKinley and another U.S. official were on the island and had just left the scene. And I got an anonymous tip on the phone advising me to check into Whitlow’s campaign contributions. I’m not sure what I’m looking for. I have a huge printout of everyone who contributed to his campaign, but I feel like I’m following the chaos theory and searching for the top quark.”
“What did McKinley’s aide say?” Charles asked Ben.
“Just that McKinley was aware that Tory was asking questions and that I should advise her to stop.”
“How did they put us together?” Tory asked.
“They knew I was in D.C. with you. They are also aware that you and Alex are friends from Athena.”
“Does this involve Athena Academy?” Charles asked.
“No. Not that I’ve been able to tell. Though King, Ben and I are all connected to the school.”
“Addler, Terrence, Whitlow and McKinley,” Charles murmured, sitting back in his chair. Tory ran the names through her head, as well.
The men had nothing in common. Or did they?
In her mind she replayed her interviews with Addler and Terrence. Their offices had been similar. As had the pictures on the wall.
She’d seen pictures of both men on a fishing boat with Chris Pearson, Whitlow’s campaign manager.
Chapter 17
“Mr. Forsythe, do you know Chris Pearson?” Tory asked. Thankfully her photographic memory was pulling details about the man that she normally wouldn’t have recalled. She’d seen his face on Fortune magazine last summer and she remembered reading an article on him in the Wall Street Journal just the past week.
Ben froze and glanced at her as if she’d just said something that she wasn’t supposed to know. With his eyes narrowed he looked like a predator. Tory shivered and scooted a few inches away from him on the love seat. He did nothing to stop her.
“Yes, I’ve met the man. Why?”
Ben continued to watch her. She wondered if she’d made a mistake in trusting him. He was a dangerous man. She knew that she’d seen him in action. Plus he was capable of lying to those he loved and doing it convincingly.
Charles watched her, waiting for a response. “I think he might be the link.”
“The link between the men?”
“Yes. Well, Jimenez is linked to McKinley because he was the pilot. And McKinley and Addler were both in Puerto Isla at the same time.”
“Terrence and McKinley would have some contact with each other through the Pentagon. But why did you bring up Pearson?”
“I saw him in the presidential palace when I first got to Puerto Isla. After that my contact, Juan Perez, denied me access to King. I was thinking of my early-morning caller and his tip that drug money was linked to Whitlow’s campaign. There were pictures in both Addler’s and Terrence’s office of each of them on a fishing boat with Pearson.”
“That’s weak, Tory,” Ben said at last.
Tory knew it was weak and that she was stretching. Was she chasing something that didn’t exist? Was she so hungry for a breaking story that she’d follow clues that led to nothing?
Charles leaned back, propping his elbows on the arms of his chair. Ben’s grandfather was renowned for being one of the smartest men in the world. He’d been the director of the CIA, and Tory knew it took a certain keen understanding of human nature to have survived as long as he had in that job. Charles nodded slightly at her.
Ben, however, didn’t seem as supportive of her ideas. He shifted forward in his seat. “I don’t think we should pursue this line of reasoning.”
“Why not, Ben?” Tory asked.
He said nothing for a minute, and she reminded herself that this man had depths she’d never really be able to explore. A shiver moved down her spine, and she shifted away from his touch.
“I’ve been ordered to discourage you from going in this direction.”
Charles lowered his hands and stared at them both. “Are you on a black-bag operation?”
Ben didn’t respond. Tory had heard the term before. She knew it was some kind of government-okayed killing assignment. Simultaneously she was scared and furious. Scared, because Ben was a trained killer and she’d seen him in action on Puerto Isla. But furious because she must be onto something solid if Ben had been ordered to keep an eye on her. And he’d never confirmed any of it.
Tory stood and moved to the other side of the room. She wanted to punch Ben. Why had he connected her with Jimenez, if he was supposed to keep her from discovering the truth?
“For God’s sake, Tory, I’m not going to kill you.”
Tory said nothing, only watched the man who was the brother of her best friend. The man who’d made her feel safe at a time when there was danger all around. She believed he wouldn’t kill her. Besides, if he’d wanted to, he could have several times on Puerto Isla.
She was ticked off that he’d known all the time. Had he been trying to derail her? She focused only on her investigation and not on Ben.
“Why did you give me Jimenez to interview?”
He wouldn’t look at her.
“To gain my trust, right?”
He shrugged.
Damn the man. She tightened her hands into fists. “I’m right to suspect Pearson of being involved, aren’t I?”
“Yes,” Ben said.
Charles steepled his fingers again. Ben sat back and watched his grandfather. Finally Charles lowered his arms. “We need a plan, young lady.”
“I was thinking I’d go to his office and interview him. He was on the news last week. Isn’t he managing Whitlow’s reelection campaign for next yea
r? Maybe I can use that angle.”
“Yes. Do you think he’ll buy it?”
“I don’t know. Ben, how much do they know about me?”
“I’m not sure. This isn’t my usual type of mission. I’m a search-and-retrieve guy. But because of my connection to you through Alex, I was ordered to watch you and see if any names came up. If they did, I was to divert you.”
“How?”
“With my charm,” he said with a sardonic smile. Oh God. Had he been faking all along?
“That’s putting a lot of pressure on your supposed charm.”
“They don’t think so.”
“Was Pearson the only name?”
“No. Addler, Terrence and Whitlow were also on the list.”
Something about the way he said it made her believe there were other names on Ben’s list. “Who else?”
He shrugged.
She understood that he was under orders. Mentally she made plans to go back to D.C. tonight. She couldn’t stay and compromise the Forsythe family. She wasn’t backing down from this story.
She searched her mind and made a connection that should have been made earlier. “Del Torro and Santiago.”
Ben said nothing and his expression gave away little, but she saw his pupils widen and his nostrils flare as if he were sensing danger.
Well, she had the connection now. Money had been donated to Whitlow’s campaign. She had guessed who had given it and why. She also understood why King was better off dead than in prison. If he had seen McKinley and someone else on the island—she was betting on Pearson. He wasn’t a government official, but he had enough clout to influence those who worked for the U.S. government. He could also make deals that sounded as if they were coming from Whitlow.
“Charles, do you know Pearson well enough to get me an interview with him?”
Charles hesitated. “Ben, perhaps you should leave. I don’t want to compromise your mission.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m sticking to Tory’s side.”
“That probably isn’t wise.”
“Too bad. I originally got involved not knowing all the parameters of this mission. Special ops were betrayed, Grandpa. That could have been my team. And Tory is becoming important to me.”
