Kaye Miller looked at her friends and colleagues milling
around the grand ballroom, and wondered which one had
tried to kill her.
Cold fear slithered up her limbs, along with a sense of
bewilderment and betrayal. Who was it? And why? She'd only
seen the shadow of the man's head through the car window,
that and the Capitol Hill parking pass that marked him as
someone close to her.
"Maybe next term," she said in response to a question from
Congresswoman Sawyer by her side and scanned the crowd,
considering each man in turn.
True, politics was a cutthroat business, but she couldn't
imagine any of these people as a coldhearted killer.
"If the wording was toned down โ" She turned her full
attention to Sawyer and made an effort to redirect her
thoughts. "It shouldn't take much to get that little extra
support you need."
"But I can count on your help?"
"You have my full backing." She was all for education
reform.
Sawyer thanked her and moved on, leaving her alone and at
the mercy of darker thoughts that brought images of
crushed metal and screeching tires.
An accident, according to the police.
She wanted to believe them. She couldn't. She'd been
there. The man had come after her with a purpose.
Would he come back to try again?
She absentmindedly rubbed the red plastic multiple
sclerosis bracelet on her wrist, an accessory that almost
every person wore tonight, including the men. Then she
caught herself and dropped her hand. She didn't want to
look nervous. She widened her smile and tried to focus on
enjoying the evening. She didn't succeed. The lushly
decorated room, the huge garlands of red roses and
carnations, felt oppressive, as if the walls were closing
in. And there were too many people. People she was no
longer sure about.
Nonsense.
She was safe here, surrounded by at least two hundred
politicians and media. Nobody would be stupid enough to
try to get to her in this crowd.
Still, when somebody bumped her from behind, she
jumped. "Excuse me," a petite woman in a striking maroon
dress said with a smile, balancing her drink and dessert.
Kaye stepped out of the way and let her by, tried to place
her. She'd been skipping too many social events in the
past two years. There had been a time when she would have
known everyone at a gathering like this.
Sinatra's voice came faintly through the speakers, not
meant for dancing, just loud enough to provide some
pleasant background noise for the guests at the Multiple
Sclerosis Society's Award Gala โ everyone who had
supported the vote for the newly approved research funds
for the society. Tonight The Hotel George was as well-
guarded as the White House.
And yet...she could not ignore the bristling of the short
hairs at her nape, the distinct and disturbing sensation
that she was being watched.
Wasn't she always? She was a public figure, Majority Whip
in the House of Representatives. Thanks to C-SPAN and
countless other news sources, people tended to recognize
her. Even in this room where almost everybody knew her
already, somebody might be keeping an eye on her, waiting
for an opportune moment to come over and push his or her
agenda.
Staying busy was good. She turned to join the group of men
she'd recently scrutinized. Then she saw him: Tall and
dark-haired, he wore a black tuxedo like every other man
in the place, and watched her from across the room. Her,
not someone behind or next to her โ she was certain of
that. His sharp gaze held her in a way so that she could
swear she felt his attention. She didn't recognize him
from the Hill, although he could have been one of the new
aides.
Instinct said he wasn't. Not media either since he wasn't
wearing a media badge. In a room full of all-smiles
politicians, he seemed to stand alone with his sober
intensity.
He didn't look away when she caught him staring. Why was
he watching her? What did he want? Was it him? The man in
the tunnel? She couldn't tell. She hadn't seen enough.
Who was he with? She thought she recognized the daughter
of Senator Massey from Iowa, but the others she couldn't
place. The people in the small group around him were
chatting, but he didn't seem to be involved in the
conversation. The older woman on his left put a hand on
his arm and said something. He turned to her to respond.
Nobody. He was nobody important. She let out her breath. A
guest, that's all. Maybe a young representative who wanted
to talk to her on some issue, but couldn't quite work up
the nerve to approach the Majority Whip at a party.
And yet, he didn't look like someone who could be easily
rattled. She watched him as he bent his head to listen
politely to whatever the woman was saying. There was a
strength to him, evident even at this distance, in his
posture and controlled movements โ a lot like Cal's.
She found the strength of strangers threatening just now.
Kaye kept moving.
"Here you are." Norman Barney's weathered face lit up as
he spotted her. "I was hoping we could discuss my little
project. I want it in the hopper as soon as possible."
That's what she needed, some normal everyday conversation
instead of standing alone and steeping in
paranoia. "Agricultural easements?"
He nodded and steered her from the group.
She smiled and stifled the little voice in her head that
screamed "anything but that!"
Norman Barney's voter base included a large number of
farmers and he took representing them seriously. Nothing
wrong with that, except that the man had a rather dramatic
manner when he took the floor. A recent five-hour
discourse on the proper processing of tripe came to mind.
"I'd like to hear your take on the upcoming presidential
summit, too. It does affect my constituents. They depend
on cheap labor from south of the border."
"We should be able to squeeze in a quick meeting next
week," she said pleasantly. She wouldn't have minded a
little work-related discussion, but she didn't want to
enter into an argument right here, right now, an outcome
that their opposing position on the issue guaranteed.
He waved that off. "Nothing that formal, Congresswoman. I
was just hoping for a few minutes tonight. Just to sound
you out."
"Kaye?"
The familiar voice had the power to lift the dark cloud
that had seemed to hang over her all evening.
She turned with a smile. "I didn't know you were coming."
Cal was here. Nothing could happen to her now. Standing
next to him was like standing in the shadow of a tank.
"Thought I'd stop by to say hi to my favorite god-
daughter. Congressman." He nodded to Barney.
The man just about snapped to attention. Cal had that kind
of effect on people.
"Colonel Wilson. It's been a while since we've seen you on
the Hill."
"Retired." Cal let slip a half-smile.
"Getting some golfing done?"
"A little bit of this, a little bit of that. Mind if I
steal Kaye for a few minutes?"
"No, no," Barney said. "I'll catch up with her later. Good
to see you, Colonel."
"What are you doing here?" she asked as the congressman
walked away.
Cal watched her closely with those dark eyes that others
found formidable. "How are you?"
"Good as new," she said, but her hand fluttered to her
left shoulder, dislocated in the crash in the tunnel.
Nobody here, except she and Cal, knew about the accident.
Her high-necked gown did a good job of covering the fading
bruises.
"I had a little talk with your security detail," he said
soberly, not missing the gesture.
He never missed anything. "Thanks." If Cal gave some
pointers to Harrison and Green, she felt that much safer.
"I want to bring in one of my own men."
She raised an eyebrow in response. Supposedly he no longer
had any men in his command.
"From my old team. I managed to maintain a few contacts,"
he said with convincing innocence.
As far as anyone knew, the Colonel had retired a couple of
years ago, only doing some light consulting now and then.
Right. He was up to his neck in something, but no matter
how much she itched to figure out the mystery, in the
interest of national security and their friendship, she
always accepted his explanations.
She wasn't about to start questioning him now. "They're
already whining about the security I have." She kept
smiling, in case anyone was watching. "I'm not going to
get budget approved for more. The police don't think the
accident was anything deliberate. They think the other
driver might have been under the influence."
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