Army Intelligence guys picked me up for questioning. Some wacko posed as my grandfather’s driver and tried to kidnap me. I’m telling you, somebody’s freaked out by my investigation of last October’s attempt on Gabe’s life and is trying like hell to stop me.”
“Who?” Owen barked.
She threw up her hands. “I wish I knew! But I can tell you this. Whoever it is, he or she or they are also behind the attempts to kill Gabe today. You agreed with me in the bunker this afternoon that a third party was pulling both the Q-group’s strings and Dunst’s. When the Q-group failed, Dunst was sent in to finish the job.”
“You can’t know that for certain. Unless you’re working for them, of course.”
“Sure, I can. I was in the Q-group chat room on the Internet a couple hours ago when the order was sent out to kill Gabe.”
Both men lurched at that one.
“I’ve got transcripts of it at home on my computer. A bunch of my hacker buddies were there with me, trying to track down the identity of whoever gave the order.”
Owen still looked suspicious. Okay. She could see where that sounded bad. But dammit, those hackers had provided vital assistance with her investigation!
“I’m not kidding,” she argued desperately. “I’m way deep inside this conspiracy, and someone knows it. If anything, I’m a security risk to Gabe because they’re coming for me next, and I could draw them to him. But I am not now and never have worked with these jerks. I swear.”
She looked back and forth between the two men. Neither one’s facial expression gave away a thing.
She continued to hammer away at the stone wall that was the two men. “Let me ask you a question, Owen. Who tipped you off that I was working with the Q-group? Did it come from within the Secret Service or from outside it?”
He frowned at her implication. “My organization is not compromised,” he declared forcefully.
“Oh yeah?” she challenged. “Then why was I able to trace whoever gave Dunst the order to kill Gabe to CIA Headquarters in Langley? There’s a rat somewhere in the government. And he or she has to be high up. How else did Dunst know to be here, tonight? If the CIA’s compromised, why not the Secret Service? It would explain how the bad guys knew so much of Gabe’s plans today, particularly the details of when and where he was going to be inaugurated this evening.”
Owen leaned back, as if he could distance himself from her ugly words. She wished she could do the very same thing, but neither one of them had any choice in the matter. Each in their own way, he and she were both committed to keeping Gabe alive, no matter what the risk to themselves.
He bit out, “The tip about you came from within the Service. And yes, it was from high up.”
Damn! Another major government agency with possible corruption at the very top! What was going on around here?
“Please, Owen. I need a name.”
He glanced over at Gabe, who nodded tersely, and then back at her. He hesitated a moment more, and then said reluctantly. “Porter. Alex Porter. He’s Deputy Director of the Secret Service.” Owen added angrily, “He’s a good man, dammit.”
That remained to be seen. She stood up, too agitated to sit still any longer. “Look Owen, if you don’t trust me, kick me out of here. But for God’s sake, don’t arrest me. I’ve got to keep tracking down the third party who controlled Dunst and the Q-group while the trail is fresh, or he’ll slip back below the waterline and we may not ever get another chance at him.”
Gabe stepped forward. “Diana, I don’t want you risking your life alone like this. It’s too big for you. Turn the investigation over to Owen’s men or the FBI.”
She wheeled around to face him and said with terrible urgency, “There’s no time. I’ve got months’ worth of details stored in my head, and I could never share all those quickly enough with someone else to do any good. By the time I brought anyone up to speed on all this, it would be too late. Even if all you did was bring on board a support team for me, they’d still move too slowly. It has to be me who tracks this person down. And I have to do it now.”
Gabe looked over at Owen and the two exchanged a long look of silent communication. In the palpable struggle of wills that ensued, Gabe came out on top, for Owen finally turned away and nodded shortly at her. He said bitterly, “Go.”
She spun and headed for the door, but stopped with her hand on the knob. “Thank you,” she said earnestly to Owen. “I swear, I’ll do my best not to let you down.”
He scowled. “Stay away from President-elect Monihan.”
She nodded once. She paused just long enough to take one last, heartbreaking look at Gabe. Lord, she was going to miss him. She closed her eyes against the pain and stumbled out of the room.
How she made it outside and to her car, she had no idea. But she knew she was going to find DiscoDuck and pluck every last feather out of his worthless hide.
Too many coincidences had happened to her today. Too many seemingly unrelated occurrences that all added up to a big fat scheme to stop her investigation and to discredit her. This latest indignity of planting doubts about her in Owen’s and Gabe’s heads was the final straw.
It was time to go on the offensive. And she knew just where to start.
9:00 P.M.
D iana punched Delphi’s phone number into her cell phone as she drove. Shoot, at the rate she was using this number today, she ought to put it on her speed dial. Delphi picked up on the first ring and didn’t bother to say hello. Obviously had caller ID.
“I saw you on TV with Gabriel Monihan. Can I assume you had some part in foiling the latest assassination attempt?”
“Yes. Richard Dunst is dead.”
“Then Monihan is safe.”
“No,” Diana replied sharply. “He’s not.”
A pause while Delphi digested that. “Now who’s after him?”
“Dunst’s boss. The same person or persons who were using the Q-group to get to Gabe. They’re still out there.”
“And do you know who they are?” Delphi asked tersely.
“No, but I plan to find out. That’s why I called you. I need an address. The guy’s name is Captain Hammersmith, and he’s with Army CID. I don’t know his first name. He’s stationed here in the D.C. area. Maybe attached to the Pentagon.”
“That should be plenty to track him down with,” Delphi said mildly. “Let me put it into Oracle.”
Diana drove west, vaguely in the direction of the Pentagon while Oracle did its thing. And in a few minutes, Delphi was back.
“You’re correct. He’s attached to the CID unit at the Pentagon. Here’s his home address.” Delphi rattled off an address in Fairfax, Virginia, not far from the Pentagon. “Keep me informed as to what you find out.”
“Will do,” Diana replied. She punched the address into her car’s nifty navigation computer, and a map to her destination popped up on its display. For once today, she wasn’t under some horrible time crunch, and she drove at a sane speed to Captain Hammersmith’s home. She composed in her mind the speech she wanted to give him and practiced it a few times as she searched for his house. Ah. There it was. A modest ranch. With the cost of living in this area, it was hard to make a military man’s pay go far.
She got out of the car and walked up the front sidewalk, which was neatly shoveled clear of snow and ice.
A young woman answered her knock on the front door.
Diana spoke politely. “Mrs. Hammersmith? Is your husband at home? I urgently need to speak to him about a military matter.”
Mrs. Hammersmith looked surprised, but invited her in. One of the men who’d questioned her that morning rounded the corner into the front hall, wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. He blurted out, “What are you doing
