It felt as if my heart was in my throat. My voice sounded like it was, too.
“The doctors don’t want too many people in the room at a time,” Deloris said.
“Okay, we can go in one at a time.” I moved toward Gordon’s room.
Deloris stepped in front of me. Her smile looked brittle. “He’s not awake. He won’t even know you are there.”
“I’ll know,” I said.
But Deloris refused to move. “The doctors say it’s important that he rests so he can heal. Too many people have already been here today wanting to see him.”
“Who else has been here?” Lorenzo asked before I could.
“Well, that detective. What’s his name?”
“Manny Hernandez,” I supplied.
“Yes, that’s the man. He stopped by to talk to me for a while. And then there was that other man. He had dark skin. He looked Arabic. Kevin, do you remember his name?”
Kevin mumbled something unintelligible as he finished off the last of another croissant.
“Was it Nadeem?” I asked. A sick feeling twisted in my stomach as I waited for her answer. He seemed to be popping up everywhere. Everywhere he shouldn’t be.
“I think it was.”
“That was his name,” Kevin answered as he grabbed another croissant. “Nice guy.”
Junior, his eyes still closed, nodded in agreement. “Good guy.”
“Did he visit with your husband?” I asked, feeling more than a little alarmed. He barely knew Gordon. And he might be a killer. Heck, according to Jack, Nadeem was a killer.
“Good gracious, no.” Deloris held up her hands as if trying to hold me back. “No one but hospital staff and family have been in the room with Gordon. He needs his rest.”
“So we can’t see him?” Lorenzo asked.
“No, you can’t,” she answered.
“I don’t know why not, Momma,” Kevin said.
“When your father wakes up, it should be his family that he sees. Don’t you agree?”
“Of—of course,” I managed to say. If she didn’t want the two people who spent the bulk of the day with Gordon to lend their support, who were we to stop her? She was part of his family. We weren’t.
Lorenzo ground his jaw and flashed me a look that said this was my fault. “You know what’s best, Deloris.”
Why was Deloris sending us away? It suddenly felt like a repeat of history . . . ancient history. My fingers curled into a pair of tight fists.
Deep breath.
Don’t panic.
Gordon wasn’t my father walking out on me. And Deloris was only saying that Gordon needed his kids by him.
Not his co-workers.
We weren’t as important.
No, that couldn’t be what Deloris was saying to us. She was upset. We all were upset.
“If there’s anything you need,” Lorenzo said tightly, “we’d be more than happy to—”
“We have everything under control, don’t we, boys?” She smiled at her sons. Junior still had his eyes closed. I hoped he was getting some needed sleep. Kevin, on the other hand, jammed his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “You know what’s best,” he said, clearly cowed by his strong-willed mother.
After wishing them well and asking Deloris to call if there was any change in Gordon’s condition, Lorenzo and I headed out of the private wing.
Jack, who was still in deep conversation with his fellow Secret Service agent, gave a start when he saw us emerge through the double wooden doors.
“What happened? Is Gordon okay?” he asked.
“He’s the same,” Lorenzo grumbled.
“We didn’t get to see him. S-She didn’t want us to . . .” I started to explain. I desperately needed to feel Jack’s arms around me. I also needed to tell Jack about Nadeem, but before I had a chance, his phone buzzed.
He glanced at his phone readout and cursed. “I’m sorry, Casey. I’ve got to go.”
“Where?” His arms still hadn’t reached out for me.
He brushed a quick kiss against my lips. Whatever had been on his phone’s readout had clearly distracted him. “Lorenzo, would you mind driving Casey home?”
Lorenzo glanced at his watch and shrugged. “Why not? I have plenty of time before my date.”
I grabbed Jack’s hand. “Where do you have to go?”
“It’s just something I need to take care of. Nothing for you to worry about.” How could I not worry when he looked worried? “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Though my eyes burned, I nodded and released his hand. “Sure. Go. I’ll be fine.” Eventually.
It shouldn’t have stung when Deloris had said I wasn’t part of Gordon’s family. But it had.
It stung as if Gordon had rejected me.
As if my father had rejected me all over again.
And now I watched with my hands curled in tight fists as Jack jogged down the hallway until he ducked around a corner and out of my view. I had no idea why he kept disappearing without an explanation.
I reminded myself he had his duties to the White House. I shouldn’t be jealous. I shouldn’t ask too many questions since I already knew that much of what he did, saw, or heard was classified and couldn’t be repeated. But that didn’t make his leaving me when I needed him most sting any less.
So that was how I’d ended up slumped on the sofa next to Alyssa . . . feeling twice rejected.
Unconsciously, I reached into my pocket and touched the old newspaper article about my father and the crimes he’d committed. I don’t know why I’d stuffed the article in my pocket or why I felt the need to keep the reminder of my father’s abandonment and betrayal so close. Thinking about him only made the pain in my chest sharpen.
Not one to sit and stew about things I couldn’t change, I jumped to my feet—upsetting Alyssa’s paperwork. “Sorry.” I helped her pick the papers I’d spilled up off the floor.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked.
“I can’t just sit here. I need to . . . to . . . find out who the blazes is scratching at our front door.”
I marched over to the front door and swung it open.
“You!” I shouted.
Nadeem gave a startled yelp and jumped to attention.
He’d been bending over, as if preparing to tape the piece of paper clutched in his hand to my front door.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
The piece of paper he was trying to hide behind his back had one word written on it in bold block letters, DIE.
“It’s not what you think.” Nadeem backed down the brick steps.
“You’re the one who’s been sending me those threatening messages?” I followed him down the steps.
“No! I’m not.”
“Then why is that in your hand?” I pointed at the paper he was trying to hide behind his back.
He glanced down the road and then back at me. “I don’t have time to explain.”
He took off running.
Chapter Twenty-one
I once had a rose named after me and I was very flattered. But I was not pleased to read the description in the catalogue: no good in a bed, but fine up against a wall.
—ELEANOR ROOSEVELT, FIRST LADY OF THE UNITED STATES (1933–1945)
ALYSSA hugged my arm. I think it was to keep me from running the other way when she tossed open the door to the bar. A blast of loud music and stale air slapped my face.
“I don’t know about this,” I said, trying to pull away again.
After getting both Jack’s and Manny’s voice mail when I’d called to report Nadeem’s threatening behavior, Alyssa suggested I call the White House to see if Jack had been called back on duty.
I did.
He hadn’t.
I ended up speaking with Special Agent Steve Sallis, who’d told me that he thought Jack was at the Secret Service’s favorite bar, The Underground.
When Alyssa had heard that, she’d insisted we change into party dresses and go looking for him. “I
f he’s at a bar, he won’t be able to hear his phone,” she explained.
I wanted to believe her, but I knew Jack kept his phone on both ring and vibrate.
“He’ll want to know Nadeem is behind the threats,” she’d said as she tucked me into one of her bright pink dresses that was much too low in the chest. I tugged at the spaghetti straps to cover myself but ended up making the skirt obscenely short. So I ended up grabbing a white sweater as we hurried out the door and buttoned it up all the way.
“None of this makes any sense,” I shouted over the loud music at the bar. “Why would Nadeem send me death threats even before he killed Frida?”
“What?” she shouted back.
“Never mind.”
“Is that the First Lady’s sister?” Alyssa shouted directly into my ear. “What’s her name?”
“Lettie Shaw. Where?”
Alyssa pointed to a woman over near the band who looked like Lettie, only this woman was wearing heavy makeup. The skirt of her gold sequined dress was several inches shorter than mine. When she reached across a table for a shot glass, she flashed her bright red panties to the room. She looked—as Aunt Alba would say—like a twice-baked tart on a mission to be taste-tested.
I hoped I didn’t look like her. Alyssa had insisted I apply more makeup than I was used to wearing, including a shimmery eye shadow she had called her special diamond dust, but was just sticky glitter. And she’d also insisted I wear my blond hair loose.
I pushed an unruly strand out of my eyes . . . again . . . as I watched Lettie—if that woman across the room was indeed Lettie. If it was, what was she doing out at The Underground dressed like that?
Holding my hair out of my face, I edged through the crowd toward her. Was she looking for more ways to frame Gordon for murder? Was she a killer in search of a lost treasure?
I didn’t make it very far across the room when I was jostled by a rowdy group of agents and cops crowding into the bar. By the time I managed to squeeze past them, the woman was gone.
“She couldn’t have been Lettie,” I said.
“What?” Alyssa shouted.
“Nothing.” I held on to Alyssa’s shoulder and pulled her ear toward me. “This is a mistake,” I shouted just as the music softened.
“You don’t have to shout.” She rubbed her ear. “Nadeem is acting weird. You need to report it.”
“I could call the police department. Or better yet, I could leave another message with Manny. Let’s go.”
Alyssa caught hold of my arm again. “But what if Jack is here?”
What if he was? First, Deloris had coolly reminded me I wasn’t part of Gordon’s family, even though I loved Gordon like a father.
Was I about to find out that Jack was playing fast and loose with my feelings? Why else would he have left me at the hospital to rush to a bar? Was it because he’d made another date? Was I about to become his ex-girlfriend?
I wasn’t ready to do this. I doubted I’d ever be ready. Although I’d never trusted a man enough to make an open declaration of my feelings, it didn’t mean that I didn’t have feelings. I’d fallen hard for Jack. Too hard.
And what a terrible time to realize it, but blooming hell, it was true.
I loved him. Had probably loved him since that embarrassing day I’d pepper sprayed him in the face.
Alyssa tightened her grip when I tried to bolt. “Even if he isn’t here, we’re going to have fun. You know, fun?”
My roommate was an even-if-it-kills-me kind of party girl. While she worked long hours for Senator Finnegan, she’d make up for it in a big way by going out and blowing off lots of steam once or twice a month.
“You need this more than I do,” she shouted over a surge in the music as she resisted my tugging and guided me over to a pair of empty bar stools. “Look at you. The murder investigation and work have taken their toll.”
I peered into the mirror hanging behind the bar and poked at the puffy skin under my eyes. “You’re right. I do look terrible. I should be in bed. Let’s go home.”
She ignored me and ordered a Capitol staffer favorite—Red Bull and vodka. I ordered a low-calorie beer.
With drinks in hand, we both turned our bar stools so they faced the interior of the bar.
“Do you see him?” she asked.
“No.” Although I spotted several groups of Secret Service agents, Jack wasn’t party to any of them. My heart started pounding.
“Maybe he’s not here yet.”
“Maybe he’s not coming.”
“His loss. Those guys over there look cute.” Alyssa pointed to a group of buff men with shaved heads and tattooed arms.
“They look like criminals, Alyssa.”
“Yeah, they do.” Alyssa’s smile grew as she watched them. “Let’s go see if they’re guilty of anything wicked and in need of punishment.”
“No! I’m not going over there!”
“What happened to your insatiable urge to play detective and unearth criminals?”
“I think I left it at home, where I should be.”
Alyssa, sensing I was about to run off, hooked my arm with hers again. “Look,” she shouted in my ear. “In that booth back there, isn’t that Jack?”
In one of the booths lining the bar’s dimly lit back wall, I spotted Jack. He wasn’t alone. My heart dropped into the toes of my sensible shoes. The other occupant of the booth was a tall leggy blonde in a painted-on black dress. She looked like a fashion model.
Although they sat directly across from each other, they leaned in over the table so close that their foreheads were nearly touching. Smiling, the blonde reached her hand across the table and placed it on Jack’s.
How could I compete with her? She had the kind of curvy body guys drooled over. Her breasts, two round perky globes, looked like they might pop out of her tight dress at any moment.
I gulped down half my beer.
“She could be his sister,” Alyssa said.
“I don’t think brothers and sisters kiss like that.” Much to my horror, the blond cupcake had leaned even closer and had pressed her lips to Jack’s.
Unable to watch any longer, I closed my eyes and turned my stool back toward the bar. I felt as if I was moving in slow motion as I set my beer down in front of me, pulled several dollars out of my wallet to leave as a tip, and jumped off the stool.
At least I hadn’t made a fool of myself. I hadn’t declared my love for him.
Jack—straight-as-an-arrow Jack—was apparently no different than any other guy I’d ever met. He didn’t know how to be faithful.
Or perhaps this was my fault. I glanced at the haggard image of myself in the mirror behind the bar. What man would want me? Heck, my own father hadn’t thought I was worth saving.
“I’m going home,” I croaked.
“Forget Jack. He’s a jerk.” Alyssa swallowed the last of her drink and followed me toward the bar’s exit. She was shaking her head. “None of this makes sense. Why would that other agent tell you to come here if this is where Jack meets his other women?”
“I don’t know. I don’t care.”
The cool night air stung my eyes as I pushed through a crowd coming in the door. “Casey?” Special Agent Steve Sallis pulled away from the group and followed me. “It is you. Wow, you look great. Did you find Jack? Are . . . you . . . okay?”
“Peachy,” I said without slowing down.
“We’re changing locations,” Alyssa said as she jogged to catch up to me. “This place fell far below our expectations.”
“Casey?” Steve called after us. “What’s happened? What’s going on?”
I ignored him and marched toward home. Alyssa quickly caught up and started tugging on my arm again, promising to take me to a better place. “There’s a club on U Street where the spies like to hang out. Maybe we’ll get lucky and bump into Nadeem. We can take turns interrogating him.”
“He’s probably a murderer.”
He’d lied about how long he had spent in the
garden the day Frida had been murdered. He was sending me threatening messages. But did that mean he’d killed Frida?
I’d wanted to talk to Jack about what I’d learned, but . . .
Oh, Jack. Why had I let myself feel safe with him? I was a fool. A stupid, stupid fool.
I twisted away from Alyssa. I wanted to go home.
“We don’t know who Nadeem is, or what he’s doing. But you should be careful around him,” I warned her.
“Careful never had any fun. Come on, Casey. You can’t let Jack do this to you. If you go home, you’re going to spend the night crying in your bedroom, or eating ice cream.”
That was exactly what I’d planned to do.
“I’ll put my energy to better use than that,” I lied. “I’ll keep myself busy. I have those heirloom seeds to order.” And I had tears to shed.
She’d opened her mouth to argue with me when her phone chirped. She pulled it out of her pocket. As she read the text message, a broad smile spread across her lips. “Barry is looking for me.”
I liked how hearing from him had made her eyes sparkle. “Go on.” I gave her a push. “Go have fun.”
“I could ask him if he has a friend.” Without waiting for an answer, she’d started typing on her phone.
“Don’t. I wouldn’t be good company.”
She frowned as she gave me an assessing look. “Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you.”
I forced a smile. “I’m sure. The house is two blocks away, and it’s early. I’ll be fine.”
After a few more minutes of indecision on Alyssa’s part, she hugged me tightly before we parted company.
I wrapped my sweater tighter around me and braced myself against the harsh fall wind that howled down the cavern of buildings. The cold weather matched the icy feeling that was tightening like a vise around my heart.
Jack. I’d trusted him. I’d really trusted him. How many men had to hurt me before I learned my lesson?
I didn’t need anything else. I didn’t need Jack. It wasn’t as if I’d moved to Washington in search of love. Gardening was my passion, my life.
A feeling of unease tiptoed down my back. Was I being watched? I looked around, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Just a street crowded with couples enjoying the evening. Wait, was that Lettie?
Oak and Dagger Page 20
