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"What do you think about going wine tasting?"
Phoebe couldn't help but hold her breath as her brain scrambled to make sense of his question. Was that in the literal sense? Or was he subtly suggesting that they go and visit his parents? Which would also mean meeting his brother and sister. She thought of ways to reply and just gave up, not having enough sleep to play the game.
"Are you talking about the Three Rivers Wine Trail in Cannon Falls or are you proposing flying to California?"
"California."
Phoebe rolled her eyes at Lach's answer, resorting to the behavior that her sister would typically display. Her unusual reaction didn't prevent her from emitting a nervous laugh and pulling the covers back up a little higher. The men she'd dated in the past had never gotten to such an intimate level or she'd already known his parents within their social setting. It shouldn't be this alarming.
"I'd like that." Lach's rich laughter journeyed over the lines of the phone and into Phoebe's fingers, causing her angst to rise a little higher. This was so unlike her. "I hope they don't mind having a Secret Service agent in their home."
"My parents are adaptable, trust me. As for your first response, you made it sound like I was forcing you to walk the plank." Lach must be making coffee for Phoebe could hear the whirl of his machine. "Be yourself and not the public persona Phoebe that comes out when you're nervous, that's all I ask."
Phoebe didn't take offense to what Lach just said because she knew it to be the truth. Her palms were already perspiring due to the upcoming trip and she grabbed the blankets to cool them down. She was entering into unknown territory and didn't like the unfamiliar feeling.
"What time would our flight be? I do need to stop by Crescent and meet with Timothy. They're struggling a little due to my absence." Phoebe wasn't using that as an excuse to delay meeting Lach's parents. Quite to the contrary. She didn't want unfinished business to be on her mind when meeting his mom and dad for the first time. "It shouldn't take long."
"There's a six o'clock flight, direct."
Phoebe knew that wouldn't give her enough time. Thinking through her options, there was only one solution, but it would technically take care of everything she needed taken care of.
"I'll head straight to my apartment instead of the office. I can have Stewart and Timothy meet me there, talk to Kimmie while I'm packing, and have you pick me up from there."
"Is there something I can do for you now that I'm back in town?"
"I appreciate the offer," Phoebe replied, knowing he had just as busy a schedule as she. "I need to meet with Stewart regarding the new cold call list along with giving him Hannah's recommendation letter. He's proven himself time and again on the undecided voters and I have a specific list that I'd like him to target. As for Timothy, Nancy quit and left him with too much on his plate. I need him to start looking for a replacement, but I need to speak with him at length in regards to the type of person who can fill that role until I step back in. As for Kimmie, she's staying at my apartment while she studies for finals."
"You need a personal a.s.sistant."
Phoebe laughed softly but didn't let on that just talking about her busy itinerary instantly calmed the nerves she was feeling in regards to meeting his parents. They only had eight more weeks of this madness and come the end of primaries, she would resume her role at Crescent. Her travel would be held to a minimum until she could get the foundation back up and running like it was before. Her father would still need her to help out during the presidential election, but the campaign would take a turn and more employees would be added, including several political campaign professionals that would more than fill many of the roles she had taken upon herself. Paul was doing a great job and she had no doubt that he would continue to do so, regardless that she didn't like him personally.
"What I need is to spend time with you," Phoebe replied, throwing the covers off of her and sitting up in bed. She wouldn't be able to go back to sleep now. "And I'm not talking about a few hours here or there in between our busy schedules."
"I'm here, waiting on you. So get your a.s.s in gear and finish out this week so that we can monopolize the weekend. And if I pick you up at sixteen hundred and find your apartment filled with people, I'll have to throw them out regardless of how much work still needs to be done."
"Yes, Sir."
"Say my t.i.tle again while you're this far away and the next time you find yourself leaving to catch a plane, your a.s.s will be too sore to sit in your first cla.s.s seat, miss socialite."
"Promises, promises," Phoebe gently teased, loving the reverberating tone he used when their conversation became intimate. She'd always wondered how far she could push him and found herself goading him to test the waters. A little spanking sounded like fun. "Have a good day, Sir."
Chapter Twenty-Six.
Lach waited until Friday's morning briefing was completed before pushing himself away from the wall and following Crest into his office. Jax and Connor had paid a visit to Neonni last night, wanting to catch him off guard. The man wouldn't profess his reasoning for being in town and the meeting just went south from there. Connor had made an enemy of the man long ago and now it seemed that the entire group of CSA was now included. From their report given a few moments ago, Neonni wasn't to be underestimated. Without proof of a crime, they had to let the sc.u.mbag go. Connor made it clear to Neonni that if he turned up near the team or their families for any reason, the authorities wouldn't ever have trouble with him again. The question still remained. Was Neonni working with Ryland? Was there a connection that had been missed? Lach closed Crest's office door before speaking.
"I'm taking two days to visit my parents, but I'll be available should you need me."
"I take it Phoebe will be going with you?" Crest asked, removing his suit jacket and then hanging it on the coatrack in the far corner of his office. He immediately undid his cufflinks and started to roll up his sleeves, the action ill.u.s.trating that Crest would be in the office the remainder of the day. "I don't need to tell you to keep your head on a swivel."
"I'll inform the agents that will be traveling with us," Lach replied, clenching his jaw as another wave of unease shot through him. Something wasn't right, yet he couldn't put a finger on it. The day had started like any other but something in the air felt off. "If I see or hear anything amiss, I'll cancel the flights."
"Something you're not telling me?" Crest asked, walking behind his desk and setting his cufflinks inside his top drawer.
"No." Lach shifted the weight on his legs. Something was telling him that he needed to speak with Phoebe. He looked at his watch, seeing that she was just about to land at the airport. He'd head to his apartment first, pack a carry-on, and then head over to her apartment to make sure she stayed on schedule. Too many meetings happening in one place for his liking, but his unease probably had more to do with Neonni. "Gut feeling. I don't like leaving when we haven't gotten anything out of Neonni. Is Taryn still heading to Texas?"
"She's stalling for a few days to see if Neonni offers up anything. If we stay on him, we're bound to figure out who he's here to either meet or eliminate."
"If Neonni doesn't have anything to do with Ryland, we're wasting time in getting to the bottom of who Yvette Capre really was."
"Which is why I sent Ethan to Texas on last night's redeye." Crest sat in his chair and nodded to the door behind Lach. "Go try and enjoy yourself this weekend. If anything comes up, trust me, I'll let you know."
Lach nodded in acknowledgment and exited the office. He hadn't seen Phoebe for almost a week now, which was longer than their usual time apart. He didn't like being separated from her at this length and chalked up his restlessness to that. She had a small punishment coming her way for taunting him when he wasn't there in person to react. If he could clear her apartment for a brief time before they headed for the airport, he could give them both a short scene to carry them through. It would certainly relieve this agitation he'd felt all morning.
Phoebe had gotten used to the Secret Service protocol and she knew that her primary agent, Steve Johanson, wouldn't leave her apartment while she had multiple meetings scheduled over the next hour. Kimmie's primary was somewhere in the building, although both of their shift agents were outside Phoebe's front door. She'd made good time coming home from the airport and had even had a few moments to have a cup of coffee with Kimmie. Phoebe wasn't too happy that Austin was there and she had to wonder if he'd actually been here the entire length of Kimmie's stay.
"You two seem to have really hit it off," Phoebe said after Austin had excused himself to use the restroom. He was exactly as Ethan and Lach had described him. He seemed to be an all American boy who appeared fascinated with political life. That was the problem as far as Phoebe was concerned. She wasn't so sure about his feelings for Kimmie. "Did he stop by to help you study?"
"Phoebe, I don't ask you about your s.e.x life," Kimmie said, shooting a smile over at Steve who was drinking one of Kimmie's carbonated waters. He was good at feigning that he wasn't hearing their conversation. She still lowered her voice slightly. "Austin is really nice. It's not like the Secret Service hasn't investigated him thoroughly. Please just give him a chance."
Phoebe inwardly groaned in frustration. Didn't Kimmie realize that no one would be good enough? She was the baby of the family. There wasn't a man on the planet who would ever live up to Phoebe's expectations. Before she could explain that in detail, a knock sounded throughout the apartment.
Steve took the two-step distance that he had been away from the entrance and looked through her peephole. Before he opened the door, he placed his hand inside his suit jacket where she knew his weapon was holstered. He always followed protocol and today was no different. He hadn't been happy that she was having several meetings inside of her home, but it couldn't be helped. Not if she were to be ready for Lach in a couple of hours.
Austin came back from the restroom and took a stool by where Kimmie had planted herself. He looked down at his watch and then leaned back in his chair. His black hair had a swirl in the front that reminded Phoebe of a past president, but she couldn't put the name to the face. Couldn't Kimmie see that if she didn't want her life in the public eye, hanging out with this young man wasn't the way to go?
"Ms. Dunaway, Timothy Mickel is here to see you." Phoebe looked back towards her front door to see Timothy standing beside her shift agent, Jim, who had obviously been the one to knock. Timothy was shoving his gla.s.ses up his nose and looking perturbed. There was no doubt it was about having been announced as if he were some client, but it was something he'd have to get used to. It wasn't like this would happen in the office of Crescent, but due to the unusual circ.u.mstances, he'd have to get over his feeling of being slighted. "Come in."
"Hi, Timothy." Phoebe motioned for him to go into the living room and he stepped over the threshold, ignoring Steve while holding up some files for her to see. She nodded and then looked at Kimmie and Austin. "Are you guys heading out or are you staying for a while?"
"It's Friday," Kimmie announced, as if that meant something. Phoebe tucked her hair behind her ears and waited for her sister to continue. "I have one week before finals start and I was hoping to stay here over the weekend. My building is one big party palace."
"She's right," Austin agreed, leaning over and rubbing Kimmie's shoulder. "The renters range from pre-graduates to post-graduates. We could stay at my place, but my roommate can be a little loud and downright filthy."
"It's no trouble," Phoebe replied, seeing Timothy start spreading his files out on her coffee table. She'd better get this over with. "Why don't you guys order a pizza? I think we're going to need some food."
Phoebe walked away while Kimmie and Austin argued over which pizza place they were going to order from and took a seat on the couch, opposite of Timothy who'd chosen the chair. He was stressed and she felt guilty for having left her post at Crescent for so long.
"How bad is it?" Phoebe asked, glad that she'd changed into a pair of jeans when she'd arrived home. She had on her favorite cream sweater with the cowl neck and the longer sleeves that almost covered the back of her hands, which she now stretched with her fingers to brace herself for what Timothy was about to say. It was obvious he knew something that she didn't. "Nancy has sent me reports every Monday and there didn't seem to be anything out of place. I spoke with our accountant and he said that things looked good from the perspective of where we thought we'd be at this point in our quarter. Yet you suggested we didn't have the funds for our next mission and now Nancy has quit, which really frustrates me because she didn't even have the decency to call me or give any kind of notice. What's going on?"
"The reason the accountant thinks that we're good on funds is because Nancy didn't disclose a check she had you sign a few weeks ago, which hasn't been cashed...yet." Timothy tapped a pen on one of the folders. "It was for the medical supplies that we provided to a team in Somalia."
"I remember signing off for it, but it was in the budget," Phoebe argued, leaning forward for the file. Timothy handed it over and then sat back into the cushioned seat. "How would this have overextended us? I double checked the amount."
"You wrote the same check a month ago." Timothy reached into his pocket and removed a white handkerchief. He then proceeded to clean his gla.s.ses while speaking. "Nancy made a mistake on the estimates and didn't think twice when she had you cut the second check. It wasn't until I finally had time to review our files yesterday that I realized what had happened."
Phoebe understood what he was saying and felt her stomach sink at a mistake that had ultimately been hers. She looked at the check written out last month and then looked at the one she'd signed approximately ten days ago. She hadn't caught the duplicate because she'd been too preoccupied.
"I should have realized that I'd written the additional check," Phoebe admitted, tucking the strands back that had fallen across her cheek as she reviewed the papers. It was pointless to give excuses for such a careless error. It wouldn't change the outcome. Looking up, she saw anger written across Timothy's features. Something had to change and she was the one that needed to fix this. "I take full responsibility. Walk me through how this affects us for the next two months. I've already decided to come back full time after the primaries, regardless if my father is on the ballot or not."
Timothy's shoulders relaxed slightly, and for the next hour he and Phoebe discussed options and business plans that could be executed to extend what funding they had on hand. She'd even used her cell phone to patch in Crescent's accountant who lectured her on upgrading their compliance so this wouldn't happen again. They weren't even close to being done when another knock sounded at the door.
"Timothy, here," Phoebe said, handing over her cell so that she could deal with her next meeting. "Keep talking while I take care of something. I won't be more than five minutes."
Phoebe had already decided that her meeting with Stewart would be brief. She would hand him the new cold call list, along with instructions that he speak with Paul. She needed to start handing these responsibilities over to Paul anyway if she was going to step back after the primaries. Steve was already greeting her next guest and she knew he would keep Stewart at the door until she was ready. She headed into the bedroom, seeing her suitcase that she'd repacked for her and Lach's trip to California, and hoped that this next hour pa.s.sed by fast. She dug into her working files and pulled out Hannah's letter of recommendation, which Phoebe had already inserted into an envelope. Stewart could give it to Hannah the next time he saw her.
Phoebe had come out of the bedroom and walked halfway across the living room when she finally looked up. To her surprise, Steve was standing in the foyer looking none too happy. Stewart was by his side and appeared a little chagrined, although for what reason she couldn't fathom. Kimmie and Austin were still at the kitchen counter, not bothering with the books in front of them and both sets of eyes glued to Stewart. Timothy was too busy on the phone to notice anything was amiss.
"Is everything all right?" Phoebe asked, directing the question to Steve.
"Mr. Barnes brought a guest with him that wasn't on your list. I wouldn't allow the young lady inside without speaking with you first."
Phoebe finally understood and shot Stewart a look of irritation. Hannah? Why would Steve have brought Hannah knowing full well she would be perceived as a potential threat in the eyes of her personal security detail? Technically, all Phoebe needed to do was hand him the folder along with the letter and send him on his way, yet she didn't want Hannah to think she harbored any ill will toward her. Stewart had placed her in a difficult situation.
"Steve, it's all right. She can come in."
"I can't allow that unless we do a pat down, Ms. Dunaway. Her father's in jail for communicating a threat against your father." Steve's tone was hard, indicating his displeasure that even the remotest of threats had appeared at her doorstep. She couldn't blame him and nodded her consent. "I'll be back in a moment."
"Stewart, you should have known better," Phoebe admonished softly. She came to stand next to him to see what was taking place near the entrance. Steve had closed the door behind him, but she figured he was looking through Hannah's purse and checking her person for any type of concealed weapon. "I know that you and Hannah are close, but you can't just bring her to my apartment."
"Hannah wanted to come with me," Stewart replied, slipping his hands into his black trousers. He'd come a long way in being the spoiled son of a senator, yet if he wasn't careful, the choices he made would overshadow any future he might have in following in his father's footsteps. "Her father used her for information. You have no idea how bad that hurt her and she just wants to thank you in person for writing her a recommendation. It means a lot to her."
"We talked about this," Phoebe argued, locking eyes with Stewart to show him the importance of her words. "h.e.l.l, Stewart, I gave Hannah my opinion the day her father was arrested. The best thing she can do is stay out of the limelight until some small campaign comes along that she can use to start rebuilding her career, if that's the path that she wants to take. In all honesty, I'm not even sure it would work out then. Her career in any type of politics probably ended the day her dad pled guilty."
Phoebe separated the folder from the letter she'd crafted and handed the file to Stewart. The door opened slowly and she got an uneasy feeling until she saw Steve standing there, Hannah by his side. Jim and Kimmie's shift agent were behind them, with Jim reaching for the handle as Steve and Hannah stepped across the threshold, shutting them inside. The innocent young girl looked at Stewart as she walked closer, most likely to see how much trouble she'd gotten him into.
"Ms. Dunaway, please don't be mad at Stewart. I knew he was coming by to pick up my recommendation letter and I wanted to come personally thank you for doing this for me." Hannah clutched her purse in front of her, showing her anxiety. "It's important that you know how much it means to me that you have faith in me."
A second hadn't gone by when a low thud sounded throughout the apartment and Steve fell to the floor. Kimmie's yelp seemed m.u.f.fled to Phoebe's ears as she tried to figure out what just happened. Stewart starting spouting curses before backing up from the blood that was pooling beneath Steve's collapsed body. Hannah seemed to follow Stewart's path, still clutching her purse. There was nothing in her hands to indicate she'd done something to Steve, although everyone was looking around, trying to figure out what had happened.
"What the f.u.c.k?" Timothy said from behind where Phoebe was still attempting to come out of the shock that had been given to her system.
"Steve?" Phoebe dropped the envelope that was still in her hand, taking a step toward the agent. He wasn't moving and there was so much blood, her mind was having trouble deciphering what to do. "We need to-"
"Phoebe, don't," Stewart ordered, his words shaking as he lifted a trembling arm and pointed a finger.
Phoebe's gaze followed his aim and she saw Austin move out from behind the small wall that separated the foyer from the kitchen. In his hand was a gun with what looked like a smoking silencer attached to it, just like in all of the movies she'd seen. A cruel smile was on his face, but his eyes were locked onto Hannah. The girl's mirthful laughter resounded through the apartment, but unfortunately, it wasn't loud enough to penetrate through the front door.
"You're late, honey," Austin announced to Hannah, although pointing the weapon at Phoebe. She took a step back and b.u.mped into Timothy and Kimmie. "I wasn't sure they were going to let you in."
Chapter Twenty-Seven.
Lach punched the elevator b.u.t.ton and waited impatiently for the doors to open. He'd texted Phoebe twice and phoned her once, but his call went directly to voicemail. He knew that she was in meetings, but it was rare that she didn't reply back. He'd swung by his apartment, packed what he'd need over the weekend, and then ran his Land Cruiser through the wash. There had still been remnants of salt and sand on the undercarriage of his vehicle and he couldn't stand the thought of it remaining there to rust the metal while his SUV sat in long-term parking. He looked up at the horizontal line of numbers, trying to see what the holdup was.
"McKinnon," Thornton said in greeting as he came to stand beside Lach. Whereas Lach was comfortable in a pair of denims, the agent was wearing a crisp suit without a strand of hair out of place on top of his head. He was going to be as uncomfortable as h.e.l.l on the plane. "We are still on schedule to depart at sixteen hundred. We'll follow behind and then once we hit the airport, we'll make our way through the security checkpoint before we have to endure the TSA two-step to carry on our weapon aboard the aircraft. The air marshal has to be notified and TSA always takes their sweet time with all of the paperwork."
"I'm familiar with that particular dance step," Lach replied as the elevator doors finally swung open. He waited for a couple to disembark and then took their place, hitting Phoebe's floor number. "Is Jim going as well?"
"Yes, as well as an agent named Dennis. I'll introduce you when we get to the airport," Thornton responded, coming to stand beside Lach. "Too many variables."
"We wouldn't want you to be bored."
The rest of the ascent to their destination was ridden in silence. Lach had phoned his parents on the drive over to this side of town, giving them details of their flight. The Secret Service would have several rental cars, but Lach's parents were old-fashioned. He wasn't about to start the trip with a perception of Phoebe based on the agents surrounding her.
The elevator doors swung open and Lach exited first. Jim was standing outside of Phoebe's apartment, along with one of Kimmie's shift agents. Her next detail should be arriving shortly as well. Once Jim caught sight of them, he turned and knocked on the door. By the time Lach and Thornton had reached him, neither Phoebe nor her primary had answered.
"They probably didn't hear me," Jim said, knocking again. "Ms. Dunaway has been busy today."
Lach could have stood here and gone into detail by stating that was the reason he was taking Phoebe away for the weekend, but he shrugged his shoulders instead. It wasn't this man's business why they were taking a few days away. Thornton had reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. It was no doubt their itinerary.
"Phoebe?" Lach called out, rapping his knuckles on the door as well. It was so like her to have trouble disengaging from a conversation, but Steve should have answered by now. The uneasy feeling from earlier started to once again descend. "Steve?"
"Um, Lach?" Phoebe called from behind the door. Lach instantly knew something was wrong and his hand went immediately to where his weapon would have been if he hadn't been on his way to the airport. He leaned forward to catch what she saying. Her voice was m.u.f.fled and tentative. "We have a problem. S-Stewart has a gun and he's a-already shot Steve. Stewart would like to speak w-with his father before this g-goes any further."
"Both Heart and Songbird are compromised. I repeat, Heart and Songbird are compromised." Jim had spoken into the standard issued wrist mic as Thornton took a few steps away to place a phone call. "Heart's primary is down. Both protectees plus additional hostages are captive by at least one armed a.s.sailant."
Lach couldn't prevent his hand from touching the door, a ball of fury forming inside of his chest. He stared at the hard surface as if there were a way inside that would give him access without making the situation worse. Phoebe was contained inside four main walls with a lunatic boy whose response to life was still based on hormones. If he'd already shot a federal agent, he had nothing left to lose whereas Lach now had everything to lose. His prior training kicked back in and he did his best to push aside his fear and rage, his words. .h.i.tting the wood as if they were bullets.
"Phoebe, you do exactly as Stewart tells you. Is there anyone else hurt?"
"Sir, I know that you want to help," Jim said in a low voice, placing a hand on Lach's arm, "but you're still a civilian. I need you to step back."
Lach's jaw tightened to the point of pain and he had to make a fist with his hand against the door so as not to take a swing at the agent. He was just stating the truth and doing his job. That didn't mean Lach had to like it or that he wouldn't take precautionary measures. He needed Crest and his team members by his side. Maybe there was a way that Crest could get Lach on the inside where he needed to be.
"Lach? No one else i-is hurt." There was a long and too lengthy pause before Phoebe spoke again. "You have fifteen minutes to get Stewart's father here."
"Let Lach reply," Thornton whispered, leaning in and pulling Jim away. "He can keep Ms. Dunaway calm until a negotiator arrives, as well as the Emergency Response Team. ETA is fifteen minutes on the ERT and the whole world right behind them."
"We need at least an hour, Phoebe," Lach replied, giving the standard answer when presented with a time constraint. A negotiator always added more minutes in order to give his team time to get into position. Unfortunately, Lach already knew what was on the other side of Phoebe's apartment. A window that overlooked the city, yet there were no buildings close enough for SWAT to set up an over-watch position. They would put a few snipers into place, but Lach guaranteed that Stewart had already closed the blinds. "Please tell Stewart we'll do everything in our power to get his father here as quickly as possible, but he has to be patient."
"Thirty minutes," Phoebe replied from a distance, letting Lach know that she'd moved away from the foyer-more like made to move. "You have thirty minutes."