She smiled up at him reassuringly. “Just keep up the act for a few more minutes. Then you can go somewhere private and fall apart.”
Diana started as Gabe’s hand closed on her elbow. “Come give me moral support,” he murmured.
As if Gabe Monihan needed moral support! The guy had just faced a second assassination attempt in a single day, and he seemed totally unconcerned by any danger to himself right now. Although, that was part and parcel of being President. He was supposed to be strong and steady in the face of a crisis. And it didn’t hurt that Richard Dunst’s brains were splattered all over the walls upstairs. That particular threat was pretty darned neutralized at the moment.
Owen was not a happy camper, but he motioned his men to follow her and Gabe as they struck out across the floor of the Rotunda.
The cameramen facing Gabe figured out what was happening before the news anchors with their backs to him did. The lights swung away from the talking journalists as Gabe strode into their midst. She gazed up at him in shock as all the stress and discomfort of having just been shot melted away from his face.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I’d like to make a brief statement.”
The reporters all stammered their permission to go ahead.
She blinked as the monolithic eyes of the cameras pinned black stares on them, and she shrank back as much as she could from Gabe in the press of Secret Service agents hemming her in. This was Gabe’s show, and she had no interest in being seen beside him on national TV.
He began to speak, confident and relaxed. “I wanted to let the American people know that, yet again, I am fine. Thanks to the quick thinking and tremendous skill of my security team, I am safe and sound.” He grinned boyishly. “I promise we will get this inauguration done one way or another, tonight. I’m thinking about dragging Judge Browning into a men’s room and taking the oath right there, just to get it over with.”
A chuckle from the hovering press corp.
Gabe continued, “The important thing is for the American people to remember that no matter what heinous crimes terrorists attempt to perpetrate on this nation, they will never bring down the democracy that has made this nation strong. No act of terror has ever brought down a democratic government, and no act of terror is about to do it now.”
A reporter shouted out of the crowd, “When are you finally going to become President?”
Gabe grinned. “Well, we’re going to take a little while to regroup and get all the right people back together, and then we’ll try this thing again. You know what they say. The third time’s a charm.”
She simply could not believe how calm he was being about all this. She was a complete wreck, and she wasn’t even the target of the killers.
As a chorus of jumbled questions got shouted at him all at once, he raised a polite hand. “I’m sorry, folks. I can’t take any more questions just now. I’ve got a little business to take care of, but I’ll be glad to speak to you at the press conference I’ll be holding tomorrow.”
Whether or not a press conference had been on his schedule, there surely was one now. She had visions of his staff seeing this live interview and scrambling away from their televisions frantically to arrange an impromptu press conference.
Gabe turned away from the cameras and took her elbow again, moving swiftly with her across the space back toward the abandoned stage where he was supposed to have become President. Owen and his men closed in on the two of them, confining them in a tight cordon of big, protective bodies that moved them onto and across the stage.
“So why aren’t you dragging Justice Browning into some office and doing the deed right now?” she asked under her breath.
“He’s having a little trouble with his heart at the moment. Apparently, he’s not used to getting shot at. The medics were worried about him and sent him to a hospital for observation for a couple hours.”
“Too bad.”
He nodded. “It would’ve been nice to get it over with. But I’d feel funny anyway, taking the oath of office while a dead man is lying in the rafters over my head. Even if he did try to kill me.”
She could understand that. She refrained from looking up at the team of police taking pictures of the corpse on the catwalk overhead and allowed herself to be herded, along with Gabe, through the small doorway behind the stage.
She looked over the shoulders of the agents behind her at the crowd of reporters. “Are you sure you shouldn’t have stuck around and answered a few of their questions?”
Owen answered brusquely for him. “That’s what press secretaries are for. Right now, you two are getting under cover and we’re going to have a talk.”
The Secret Service agent hustled them down a short hallway and into a small office. Glaring sternly at her, he pointed at a chair in front of the desk. She sat down in it while he perched on the edge of the desk. Lord, it felt like being hauled down to the principal’s office to be chewed out. Except this was a thousand times more serious than any accusation she’d ever faced at the Athena Academy.
As worried as she was by Owen’s inexplicable leap of logic, she still waited him out. It never paid to look overeager in stating her case, no matter how innocent she was.
Owen sighed heavily. “Start talking.”
She was vividly aware that Gabe stood in the corner off to her right, watching her silently. She respected both of these men immensely and had no interest in playing games with either one of them. And so, she started talking.
“Owen, I don’t know where you got the idea that I’d do anything or associate with anyone who would hurt Gabe. I’ve been busting my butt for weeks trying to break into this Q-group, and today they finally stuck their heads up high enough for me to get a position fix on them. I have access to a top-secret, high-tech database to help me analyze their movements, and because of that, I’ve been able to stay only a step or two behind these jokers.”
“How did you know Dunst would be on that catwalk?”
“It was the only hole in your security. You had everything else covered. But you weren’t looking within your own ranks for a threat.” She added hastily as a black scowl crossed Owen’s face. “It’s not like you should’ve expected a threat from the inside. I only thought to do it because I know Richard Dunst.”
Gabe’s brows slammed together right along with Owen’s.
Surely Gabe didn’t take that the way it sounded. Surely he trusted her more than that! She corrected herself. “I don’t know him as in being acquainted with him. I only meant Dunst was one of the people I’ve investigated and I know his MO. He was caught in a Q-group takedown three months ago, and his escape from Bolling was just too timely to be coincidence. He’s a disguise artist and a trained killer. Speaking of which, has the agent he replaced been found yet?”
Owen shook his head in the negative. “The FBI is searching the upper floors now.”
What was going through Gabe’s mind? He was standing there motionless, his expression completely unreadable. Did he believe these accusations Owen was flinging at her? Surely not! But why wasn’t he leaping to her defense, then? Of course, it wasn’t his job to defend her. It was his job to stay out of Owen’s way and let his security chief rake her over the coals. Besides, Gabe was about to be President of the United States. He couldn’t afford to let his personal feelings enter into any decision he made.
What had Gabe said a few months back in response to a press question speculating about a decision he might make? Something to the effect that, he’d rather base his decisions on facts than speculation. She ought to be pleased he’d extended that philosophy to this situation. Except all she felt was hurt and abandoned by his sudden, cold reserve.
She turned back to her accuser. “Owen. You saw me jump on Gabe this morning on that balcony. Did that look like a calculated move to get into his good graces? Or did that look like the reflex of someone fighting like crazy to keep Gabe alive?”
Owen’s expression waxed thoughtful. She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and was dismayed to see Gabe cross his arms across his chest. Was that more comfortable for his bruised ribs, or was that a defensive gesture of rejection? Oh, God. Why did the people who were supposed to care about her always leave her?
She continued in a rush. “Weird stuff has been happening to me all day. My house got broken into at oh-dark- thirty this morning. An FBI agent I’d never met before made wild accusations against me. Out of the blue, some
