Assumed Identity

“No.”

“I’ll order you something from room service.”

“I don’t have any appetite.”

“You’ve got to eat something.”

“Hey, fear’s good for losing weight.”

“How about some coffee? Or tea?”

“How about telling me what the names you gave me have to do with my story?”

“They don’t,” Buchanan said.

“What? Then why did you get in touch with me? Why did you put me through all this, being followed and passing secret messages and-?”

“Because I didn’t have any choice. I need your help.”

Holly jerked her head up. “You need my help? What could possibly-?”

“Drummond and Tomez. People important enough to need protection. What did you find out about them?”

“Why do you need to know?”

“It’s better if you don’t know anything about-”

“Bullshit,” Holly said. “Since I met you on the train to New Orleans, you’ve been playing games with my mind. Everything has to be your way, and you’re damned good at manipulating people into doing it. Well, this is one time that isn’t going to happen. If you need my help, there has to be something in it for me. If it isn’t about the story I was working on, what is it about? Maybe I can use that as a story. Quid pro quo, buddy. If I have to give up something, I want to get something in return.”

Buchanan studied her, then feigned reluctance. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Jesus, you are really something. You never stop acting. I get the impression you meant to tell me all along, but this way it looks like you’re doing me a favor instead of the other way around.”

Buchanan slowly grinned. “I guess you’re too smart for me. How about that coffee?”

“Tea. And if you’re going to tell me a story, I think I feel my appetite coming back.”

8

“It concerns the woman I told you about in New Orleans,” Buchanan said after ordering food. “The friend who sent me a message asking for help. The one I was supposed to meet at Cafe du Monde. Except she didn’t show up.”

Holly nodded. “Your former lover.”

“No. I told you we were never lovers.” Buchanan brooded. “In fact, I think that’s when a lot of my problems started. Because I didn’t commit to her.” He remembered how much he had wanted to, how much he had denied himself for the sake of duty.

Holly’s face didn’t change expression. But her eyes did, narrowing, assessing him.

“One of the last things I told her,” Buchanan said, “was that she couldn’t be in love with me because she didn’t know me-she only knew who I pretended to be.”

Holly’s eyes narrowed more. “It certainly seems you never stop acting. For example, right now. I can’t tell if this is the truth or more manipulation.”

“Oh, it’s the truth. Even if you don’t believe it, it’s the truth. This is one of the most honest things you’ll ever hear from me. I want to help her because I want to be the person I was when I knew her. I want to choose to be somebody and to stay that somebody. I want to stop changing. I want to be consistent.”

“Because of all the people you impersonated?”

“I told you, I don’t know anything about-”

“Don’t act so defensive. I’m not trying to get you to admit to anything. You want to stop changing? Why make it so complicated? Why be somebody else? Why not be yourself?”

Buchanan didn’t answer.

“You don’t like yourself?”

Buchanan still didn’t answer.

“This woman, what was her name?”

Buchanan hesitated. All his instincts and training warned against revealing information. He prepared to lie.

Instead he told the truth. “Juana Mendez.”

“When you knew her, I’m assuming you were on an assignment together.”

“You know what you can do with your assumptions.”

“No need to get touchy.”

“Since the first time I spoke to you, I have never revealed confidential information. Everything I’ve said about my background has been hypothetical, a ‘what if’ scenario. As far as you’re concerned, I’m an instructor in military Special Operations. That’s all I’ve ever admitted to. This has nothing to do with the story you abandoned. I want that understood.”

“As I said, no need to get touchy.”

“After you left New Orleans. .” He told her about his drive to San Antonio, his discovery that both Juana’s and her parents’ homes were under surveillance, and his search of Juana’s records. He omitted all reference to the man he’d killed. “Drummond and Tomez. The files for those names were the only ones that seemed to be missing. Juana was a security specialist. I have to assume those people were clients.”

“Important enough to need protecting.” Pensive, Holly walked toward the briefcase she’d set on a chair and opened it. “I used the reference system at the Post.”

“That’s why I had to get in touch with you. I didn’t have access to anyone else who could get the information I needed as quickly as you could.”

“You know. .” Holly studied him. “Sometimes you might consider trying to impersonate somebody with tact.”

“What?”

“I don’t delude myself that you’d go to all this trouble if you didn’t have something to gain. All the same, it wouldn’t have hurt you if you’d also left the impression that you found me interesting.”

“Oh. . I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted. But if you were this charming with Juana Mendez, it’s no wonder things didn’t work out.”

“Look, I’m trying to make up for mistakes.”

Holly didn’t speak for a moment. “Let’s see if this helps. Drummond and Tomez. I had my suspicions, but I wanted to check thoroughly before I made any conclusions.”

“Drummond is Alistair Drummond,” Buchanan said. “I more or less figured that already. The last name brings him immediately to mind. He’s rich, famous, and powerful enough to fit the profile.”

“Agreed. I kept checking, but he’s the only Drummond I think we should consider.” Holly pulled a book and several pages in a file folder out of the briefcase. “Bedtime reading. His biography and some printouts of recent stories about him. I’d have given you his autobiography, but it’s such a public-relations whitewash that it’s useless for dependable information. Certainly it doesn’t show any skeletons in closets, and in Drummond’s case, skeletons in closets might not be a figure of speech.”

“What about Tomez?” Buchanan asked.

“That was harder. I’m a Frank Sinatra fan myself.”

“What’s he got to do with. .?”

“Jazz. Big bands. Tony Bennett. Billie Holiday. Ella Fitzgerald.”

“I still don’t see what. .”

“Listened to much Puccini lately?”