Unwritten Rules (Phoenix, Ltd. Book 1) Page 13

  “How many people do you intend to feed?”

  He glanced up. “Just us. I don’t know what you like, so I wanted to give you a choice.”

  She stared at the spread. He must have ordered everything on the menu. How could he stand to look at all that food? After last night, the sight of it made her queasy, not to mention the smell. “I’ll have the granola and yogurt. I don’t eat much in the morning.”

  “No problem. More for me.”

  “Are you going to eat everything else?”

  “I’m going to try.”

  He was disgustingly cheerful for a man who had nearly been killed less than twelve hours earlier. He was either an expert at dealing with danger, or stress had turned him into a jovial lunatic. Either way, his perkiness annoyed the hell out of her.

  He had dragged the armchair up to the desk and already had a forkful of omelet halfway to his mouth. “I didn’t know if you drank coffee, so I got you a pot of tea.”

  Caffeine. Thank God. “That’s great. Thanks.”

  She sat on the desk chair next to him and picked up the pot. She sipped her tea and pushed her granola around with a spoon while she watched him work his way through the omelet, toast, hash browns, and a mountain of bacon. It was an impressive performance. Stress always killed her appetite. Maybe food was an antidote for him. She didn’t really know how most men ate. She’d heard teenage boys would eat anything that moved and most things that didn’t, but she was an only child and hadn’t dated much in high school. Since then, of course, she’d been out to dinner with men, but who eats normally on a date?

  A series of staccato knocks on the door to Carter’s room startled her, and tea sloshed over the edge of the cup.

  “Devlin, open up.”

  Her cup clattered in the saucer as she set it down and jumped up to grab her gun from her purse.

  He laid a hand on her arm. “It’s only Ski.”

  “How do you know?”

  He rose and headed for his room. “It’s his knock. I’ll check the peephole before I open the door, but I’d know that voice anywhere.”

  She kept her weapon in her hand but left the safety on. “Okay, but I’ll be beside you. Don’t open the door until you’re sure.”

  He peered through the peephole then opened the door. “Ski, glad to see you. Come on in.”

  Al Witkowski stepped in and smiled at Madelyn. Then his glance zeroed in on the Glock in her hand. He snorted. “I guess you weren’t kidding when you said you had something serious to discuss. You’d better tell me what’s going on.”

  “Let’s sit down. I think I need another cup of coffee.” Carter headed for the pot. “You want one?”

  “No, I’m fine. Now what’s this all about?”

  “Somebody’s trying to kill me...maybe.”

  “Nothing new there, but I wondered why you, of all people, would hire a bodyguard.”

  “You knew?” Madelyn turned to Carter. “Did you tell him?”

  Ski chuckled. “Ms. Li, you’re not exactly under deep cover here.”

  She released her breath. “I keep forgetting I’m dealing with a bunch of spies.”

  Carter took a long, slow sip from his coffee then set the cup down. “What I want to know is whether this business is related to any of those spies.”

  “Fill me in.”

  He gave Ski a succinct rundown of the threats and incidents leading up to the shooting at the embassy then handed him the latest message.

  Ski smoothed a hand across his thinning blond hair. “Pretty strange combination of amateur and professional. Doesn’t sound like any of the agents we know.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Carter downed the last of his coffee. “A real spy would be embarrassed by most of this nonsense. Until last night. A pro took that shot.”

  “I’ll make some inquiries, ask around, see if anybody’s heard anything.”

  “Syed seemed to think this might be the work of somebody on our side.”

  Ski snorted. “He would. Are you sure he’s not behind it? He was Selima’s brother after all.”

  “If Syed wanted me dead, I’d be dead. Besides, why would he care if I speak to the press?”

  “Good point. Tell you what, I’ll look into this and get back to you.”

  The men stood, and Carter shook Ski’s hand. “Thanks, buddy. You’ve always had my back.”

  “And don’t you forget it.” Ski winked at Madelyn. “He’s in your hands now, Ms. Li. Good luck. Keeping this guy in one piece can be a chore. I ought to know.”

  Carter closed the door behind Ski. “I know you wanted to stick to your cover, but you can trust Syed and Ski to keep quiet.”

  “There’s a third,” she murmured.

  “What?”

  She hesitated before meeting his gaze. “We’ve met someone else who knows me. I wish I knew if it mattered.”

  “Who? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She crossed the room to the window and stared out, focusing on the tip of the Washington Monument. “Laura Burns, Senator Barnett’s secretary. We went through the FBI Academy together.”

  “But you two didn’t even speak when Sam introduced her.”

  “We weren’t friends.”

  He joined her at the window. “It sounds like there’s a story there.”

  “Not really. We never had much in common besides the job.”

  “Sam and I weren’t close friends either, but at least I was willing to say hello.”

  “If you must know, Laura and I were more competitors than colleagues, and…well… I might have thrown her to the ground a bit harder than necessary during hand-to-hand combat a couple of times.”

  He chuckled. “That sounds like you.”

  “And I’m not exactly proud of it. I’d appreciate it if you’d drop the subject.”

  “Sure, but I wonder why an FBI agent would be working as Sam’s secretary, if that’s what she’s doing.”

  She turned. “I’ve been asking myself the same question. I’m not certain she’s left the Bureau. Maybe she’s undercover too. For all we know, the senator has been receiving threats as well. I wish we could find out without giving up too much information. How close were you and Senator Barnett in the Army?”

  Carter strolled over to the wing chair, sank down, and propped his feet on the ottoman, crossing his ankles. “Not very. We hung out with some of the other guys from the unit when we were off duty. We never worked together.”

  That fit Madelyn’s first impression. Even during their brief meeting, Sam hadn’t seemed like the kind of guy who liked to get his hands dirty.

  She sat on the edge of the bed. “If there is any connection, maybe we’ll be able to find it while we’re in Dallas.”

  Carter grimaced. “I’d rather spend the week in a dentist’s chair. I wonder if it’s too late to change the next stop to Denver.”

  Her brows shot up in mock horror. “Alter the schedule? Do you want to give Herman a heart attack?”

  “I’d just as soon skip this party they’re cooking up. Sam Barnett and Chick Avery were never on my list of favorite people.”

  Simply being in the same room with those two had triggered the alarm on her slime meter. “Running into Laura is an uncomfortable coincidence, too.”

  “I’m not a big fan of coincidences.”

  “Neither am I, although I suppose she might have taken the job as the senator’s secretary because she wants to move up in politics. Even at the Academy her ambition was scary.”

  “You could always pull her aside for some girl talk at the party, or maybe in the ladies’ room. My sister tells me that’s where all the best gossip happens.”

  “Not unless you want to join us. I’m not leaving your side. Besides, I’ve never had much interest in girl talk.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” He checked his watch and stood. “I think we’ve got a TV interview scheduled for three o’clock. If we’re going to keep that appointment, we need to leave around two.”


  Madelyn rose too. “We should see how Herman’s feeling this morning. I’ve checked on him a couple of times, and he seems better. Yesterday afternoon he was on the phone cooking up a new publicity scheme with somebody back at the office.”

  “I know. When we dropped off those newspapers from the gift shop, I felt like we were derailing the wheels of commerce.”

  “I’d be more comfortable if we could get him to cancel this interview,” she admitted, “but that’s like wishing for snow in Hawaii. I don’t want to say anything to him about the shooting, and I can’t think of another compelling reason to cancel.”

  “Agreed, and as much as I hate interviews, I’m not backing out of this one. I don’t want whoever is sending the letters to think they can scare me off. At first the threats were annoying, but last night was a direct challenge.”

  The hard planes of his face took on a sharper edge, and the ice in his blue eyes sent a shiver down her spine. She wouldn’t want this man as an enemy.

  “They’re going to find out I never back down, and I never give up.”

  The grit in his voice matched his unyielding expression. He would be a formidable adversary. If she didn’t do something to soften him up before they left for the station, the unsuspecting television interviewer was in for a rough half hour.

  “Let’s go see Herman,” she suggested.

  It worked. The muscles in his brow and jaw relaxed. They crossed the hall, and Carter knocked on the door.

  “Who is it?”

  “Carter and Madelyn.”

  Herman looked better. His color was good, and his eyes were bright. The cast on his wrist was the only sign he’d been through two life-threatening incidents in the past three days.

  “Come in. Come in. Have you seen the papers?” He waved a copy of the Washington Post in their faces.

  Madelyn and Carter shook their heads.

  “Look at this.”

  Herman folded the paper to an inside page and handed it to Carter. Madelyn leaned toward him so she could read the article too. It was a big, splashy piece covering the release of The Man Behind the Curtain. It also described in detail the car accident outside the bookstore.

  “Isn’t this great?” Herman crowed. “First we make the TV news and then the paper. You can’t buy this kind of publicity.”

  Buy this publicity? He’d better not have…“Herman, you swore to me—”

  “No, no. Absolutely not.” He waved his left arm in its cast. “I never planned the accident, but you can’t blame me for being glad some good came of it.” He turned to Carter. “This will translate into big sales. Eyes on the prize. Eyes on the prize.”

  Madelyn shook her head at his unbridled enthusiasm. The man was born for his job.

  “I want to go over everything you need to say in the interview this afternoon.” Herman picked up a pile of cards from the desk. “I made up some note cards with the important talking points.”

  A muscle flexed in Carter’s jaw. “I am not going to mention any talking points, and I am not going to use note cards. I’ll never make it through these interviews if you don’t let me answer questions my own way and in my own words.”

  Herman bristled. “This is not a casual chat. It’s extremely important publicity for the book.”

  “I’ll sell the book. I promise.”

  “You don’t have the first idea how to make a sale.”

  “Is the interviewer male or female?”

  “Female, but I don’t see what that has to do with it.”

  Carter flashed a grin. “Five minutes of the old Devlin charm, and I’ll have her eating out of my hand.”

  Madelyn didn’t doubt he could do it, but she wasn’t sure she had the stomach to stand in the wings and watch.

  She turned to Herman. “We’ll stop by and pick you up at two. Do you need anything before then?”

  “No, I’ve got calls to make. I’ve been working with Ms. Burns and Mr. Avery from Senator Barnett’s staff to arrange everything for the party at the senator’s ranch. They’ve been a tremendous help. You wouldn’t believe the guest list they’ve put together on such short notice.” He glanced at Carter. “I never realized how useful your connections could be.”

  “Neither did I.”

  Two hours later, Madelyn received a call from the front desk that their new car had arrived. At two o’clock, she and Carter collected Herman and drove to the television station. The armor plating and bullet-proof glass of the car gave her a measure of comfort, but not much. The whole way to the station, she scanned the traffic beside and behind them for a tail.

  When they arrived, she slipped her gun into the holster beneath her jacket before getting out of the car and crossed her fingers that the station security wouldn’t include a metal detector. Inside, an enormous Channel Five insignia dominated the lobby. They approached the desk, and Herman gave their names to the receptionist. A few minutes later, a bright-faced young blonde with a clipboard appeared and introduced herself.

  “Hi, I’m Amanda, Cindy’s assistant. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you up to the studio. Cindy’s really looking forward to talking with you, Mr. Devlin, since your last interview was cut short.”

  Carter and Madelyn exchanged glances. What did she mean? This was the first interview of the tour.

  In the studio, two armchairs sat at angles in front of a backdrop that read Faces in the News with Cindy Jensen, and there, in a brilliant crimson suit, stood the reporter from outside the bookstore.

  Carter frowned and nudged Herman. “Did you do this on purpose?”

  He frowned. “Of course. She has the second highest ratings of any reporter in town, and her feature program is a perfect fit for us. What’s the problem?”

  “I think she hates me.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “I wasn’t too cooperative after that car ran us down. She wanted a statement, and I brushed her off.”

  “I’m sure she’ll forgive you. She’s a professional.”

  Cindy Jensen favored him with a wide, dazzlingly white smile and beckoned. “Mr. Devlin, how nice to see you again.”

  Carter didn’t move, even after Herman gave him a nudge. His face was a shade paler than it had been ten minutes earlier, and tiny beads of sweat dotted his upper lip. Herman bobbed and tugged at his sleeve.

  “No cold feet,” Madelyn whispered.

  “I’d like to see you do this.”

  “Think of her as the head cheerleader, and you want to persuade her to join you under the bleachers for a pass reception.”

  “Not helping,” he whispered back.

  “Come on. Where’s that famous Devlin charm?”

  He lifted his scarred brow. “You think I’m charming?”

  “Well, one of us does. Now get over there.” She gave him a little shove.

  Carter straightened and strode over to shake the reporter’s hand. “Ms. Jensen, I’m delighted to be here. I hope you’ll forgive me for being so abrupt the last time we met.”

  “That’s quite all right, Mr. Devlin. This is our opportunity for a fresh start. Now, if you’ll just sit there...” She steered him to one of the chairs and waved her right hand in the air. “Makeup!”

  Madelyn couldn’t restrain a giggle as the makeup artist tucked paper towels in Carter’s collar and dusted his face with a big fluffy brush coated in powder. It was a good thing he’d been trained to withstand torture, because based on his expression, this was torture of the first degree.

  When his makeup was finished, a technician did a sound check, the director gave the cue, and the camera started rolling.

  “Good afternoon, this is Cindy Jensen, and today our guest on Faces in the News is author Carter Devlin. He’s here to talk to us about his new spy thriller and a frightening incident last Friday that could have been torn straight from its pages.”

  Madelyn watched the reporter lead Carter through the details of the near-fatal encounter with the speeding car and quickly understood why Herman had chos
en her show for the first television appearance on the tour. Cindy Jensen was a skilled interviewer, knowing just how to encourage Carter to talk without badgering him. After a few minutes, he relaxed and let a little of the famous Devlin charm shine through. By the time they got around to talking about the book, they sounded like old friends.

  “So, Carter, is this story based on imagination or experience?”

  “A little of both, but heavy on the imagination.”

  “I’m certain you had plenty of hair-raising experiences in the CIA to inspire that imagination. Are there any you can share with our audience?”

  Carter offered a rueful smile. “I’m afraid not, Cindy. All that information is still classified.”

  “How about before the CIA, when you were with Army Intelligence?”

  He shook his head. “Still classified.”

  Exasperation crept through a crack in her reserve. “We’re not going to have much to talk about if everything is classified.”

  He smiled again as if stonewalling reporters were second nature. “I’m sorry. I don’t make the rules.”

  This time, her smile showed a few too many teeth. “All right. Let’s try a different subject. I understand you served in the same unit in the Army as Senator Sam Barnett, and the two of you are friends.”

  “Sam and I served together, yes.”

  “So tell us, will he get your vote?”

  Carter hesitated. “I don’t know how that would be possible. I don’t live in Texas.”

  Cindy’s smile held a hint of triumph. “Surely you are aware your old friend is planning to run for president.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Carter’s jaw sagged. President of the United States? Sam Barnett? Sure the man had great hair, but since when was that enough?

  “Uh, no, I was unaware of that. I haven’t seen Senator Barnett for several years. I’ve been out of the country until fairly recently, and as a rule I don’t pay much attention to politics even when I’m home.”

  Cindy laughed. “Here inside the Beltway, we consider that heresy.”

  “Then I guess I’m a heretic.”

  Cindy leaned forward and spoke to the camera. “There you have it, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for being with us today for our conversation with Carter Devlin, spy, author, and political heretic. Join us tomorrow when we cook with Ruby Tyler, owner of Ruby Begonia’s, Georgetown’s hottest new chocolate shop.”