“We make a quick stop at a local drugstore for some supplies and then we go to a party.”
“Supplies?”
He nodded. “Something tells me that we won’t be able to bring any weapons to this shindig, but I don’t intend to go unarmed.” He smiled. “I’ll be bringing a few professional tools of the trade.”
She stared at him as a deep, undeniable feeling of dread rolled over her. She knew without saying anything that going to the party was a mistake. A mistake they would both pay for. A voice inside her head screamed at her to run, to take Ryan and run as far and as fast as they could in the opposite direction. She opened her mouth to say that, to tell Ryan they needed to escape. To get out of Washington.
But no words came out. Her throat was frozen. Paralyzed. Instead, she nodded in agreement. Yes, they’d go to the party. She had a job to do. What that job was, she wasn’t sure, but something told her it was waiting for her.
The word
Oblivious to her feeling of impending doom, Ryan stood up, his hand reaching out to lightly caress her cheek. She leaned her head against his hand and closed her eyes, soaking in his strength and courage. And as she basked in the radiance of his touch, she pushed back the dread. Somehow she’d survive this night. Because of him, she had to.
SEVERAL HOURS LATER, Ryan and Tess arrived at the Washington Excel. Television crews and reporters jockeyed for position behind carefully erected police barricades around the posh hotel. Camera flashes lit up the darkness blanketing the city.
Ryan stepped out of the limo and reached to offer a hand to Tess. She slipped her hand into his and smiled up at him. As she gracefully swung her legs out, her dress-an elegant red sheath with a daring slit up one side-parted slightly, giving him a clear view of one long leg. Fierce possessiveness flooded him, surprising him with its intensity. He wished he could usher her back into the car and slam the door against the crowds pressing in on them.
But something in her eyes, the grim determination, told Ryan that wasn’t a possibility. They didn’t have a choice. They had come to find answers and Tess wouldn’t leave until she had them.
She took his arm, her smile confident. But he knew without question that she was frightened, worried about what they faced once they walked through the doors of the hotel.
The air around them held a charge of heightened expectation. Even the crowd seemed to sense this was a momentous occasion. At the entrance to the lobby, a uniformed employee and two men in suits checked their invitations and then directed them to a private elevator leading to the terrace reception.
They crowded into the elevator with six other couples. The mood was festive with everyone talking at once. They were dressed in formal attire, the men in crisp white shirts and immaculate tuxes, and the women in expensive gowns, their necks and ears dripping with precious gems.
When the doors opened on the top floor, the group surged out into the hall. People lined the corridor and at the opposite end of the hall leading to the rooftop terrace, Ryan spied the security detail. Five Marine guards stood at attention on either side of the four doors leading to the terrace. Through the doors filtered the sound of music, clinking glass and many voices engaged in animated conversation.
In front of the marines stood a group of men dressed in conservative dark suits and sporting tiny headphones in their ears. Ryan knew they were the Secret Service detail assigned to guard the vice president.
The Secret Service checked handbags and ran sophisticated metal detectors over everyone awaiting admittance to the gala. None of the people waiting seemed impatient or put off by the security routine. Ryan figured that all of them were seasoned Washington partygoers. They knew the routine. Knew what to expect.
As he and Tess got into line, waiting their turn, the elevator doors opened again, discharging another group. The group waiting in the hall swelled to approximately twenty-five people.
The group shifted and moved. Two couples jostled for position next to him, their voices loud and boisterous. The smell of liquor was strong. Apparently they had started their partying a little earlier than the rest.
Ryan moved aside as one of the men’s elbows jabbed him in the rib. The man mumbled an apology. Ryan nodded and turned to say something to Tess. But she had gotten separated from him, moving farther up the line and closer to the security checkpoint.
He watched her hand one of the men her invitation and her beaded purse. The agent examined it carefully, comparing it to a list on his clipboard. Another of the Secret Service men ran a metal detector over her slender frame.
Eager to join her, Ryan tapped the person ahead of him, motioning that he needed to get by. But the man shot him an impatient look and closed ranks. Unless he wanted to do an end run around the group ahead of him, he was going to have to wait.
The agent waved Tess through, and Ryan was surprised when she didn’t turn to find him in the crowd. But as he moved forward, he decided that her anxiety had gotten the better of her and she wasn’t even aware that they had become separated.
“May I have your invitation, sir?” one of the Secret Service men asked politely.
Distracted, his eyes still on Tess standing in the huge doorway leading to the outside terrace, Ryan handed the agent the envelope with his invitation. The man slid it out and compared it to the names on his clipboard.
“I’m sorry, sir, but you’ll have to wait here.” Another agent, not either of the two conducting the security check, stepped in front of Ryan, blocking his way.
Ryan’s pulse rate hit a new high. “Is there a problem?”
“Just a slight irregularity with the invitation, sir. We’ll have it all cleared up in no time. If you’ll just follow me please.”
The agent made a quick motion with one hand and two marine guards materialized, closing in on either side of Ryan. The people around him backed away, as if frightened to be associated with him. They stared and whispered.
The two guards didn’t touch Ryan, but he knew without question that they wouldn’t hesitate to take him down if he made any move to indicate he wasn’t in a cooperative mood.
He glanced again in Tess’s direction, hoping she’d noticed that he hadn’t been able to get clear of the security detail. But she stood with her back to him, oblivious to his difficulties.
“Tess?” he called.
She turned and looked over her shoulder, and in that instant, their eyes met. A chill of fear overwhelmed Ryan. Her familiar green eyes looked right through him, her gaze vacant, devoid of expression.
He realized that she didn’t see him, didn’t recognize him. It was if he’d suddenly ceased to exist. Something drastic had happened.
He watched as two men in tuxes closed in on either side of her, one gently taking her arm and leading her back down the hall toward him. The man leaned down and whispered in her ear, speaking to her as if they were old friends. She listened, her face blank. They brushed past him and Tess glanced at him, but no recognition entered her eyes.
Fear clawed at Ryan’s belly. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. The two guards nudged him down the hall in the same direction. Their demeanor was polite, but their attitude didn’t allow room for protest.
All avenues of escape were now effectively cut off. Ryan knew that, within minutes, the Secret Service would find out he wasn’t who he pretended to be.
The only positive thing up to this point was they were taking him in the same direction as Tess. At least for now they weren’t going to be separated.
When they reached the elevator, the agent turned to the guards. “We’ll take it from here, gentlemen.”
The marine guards nodded and waited until Ryan, Tess and the three agents were safely on the elevator before heading back down the hall to their post.
Tess stood between the two agents in total silence, staring straight ahead. When Ryan attempted to speak to her, the two agents closed ranks, blocking her from his view.
“Where are you taking us?” Ryan asked the man standing next to him.
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
“Are you Secret Service?”
