Attracted to Fire (10 page)

An admiring gaze bored a hole through her, but that's what she intended. “I'll be leaving soon. Too bad you're on duty. I'd ask you to tag along.”

She smiled. “And I'd go. I don't like missing church.”

He grinned. “So you're one of them?”

“A Christian?”

He nodded.

“Yes, and you aren't?”

“Haven't decided yet. But I promised Dad I would investigate it.”

“Do you always do what your dad says?”

He pushed his hat back. “Not at my age. But I respect his wisdom.”

“I like him. Reminds me of my family.” She smiled and meant it. “If you're searching for God, He'll find you.”

“Sounds like you've been listening to my dad.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all. He likes you. Says you're the real thing, not a Texas wannabe like most of the agents here. I imagine juggling the Bible's teachings with your job is a challenge.”

She didn't think he was insulting her. More like trying to find out what made her tick. “Living up to God's standards is always a struggle, no matter what our profession. Too much junk out there designed to snatch our attention.”

He shrugged. “I agree, which is why I'm still looking.”

“Well, I'm glad I made the cut with you and your dad.”

He lifted a brow. “Oh yeah? We both like Wade, too. A decent guy.”

“We're all a good team. We have a job to do—protecting Lindsay at all costs.”

“But you're after more, aren't you? You have bigger stakes than a pat on the back.”

What did he mean? “Guess I have.”

“Hard to be a woman in the Secret Service?”

“At times. We have to prove ourselves, just like any other agent. But the trust factor can be an issue.”

Chip studied her, but she could handle his scrutiny. “I had a friend in the FBI who claimed most women jumped aboard to find a husband, or they were out to prove something to the male members of the species.”

“I've known a few like that in the Secret Service. They don't last long. Obviously.” For a moment, she flashed back to a few agents who were interested in something she refused to give.

“I bet you qualify just fine.”

Chip's words held more meaning than she cared to tackle. “I do all right.”

“I have no illusions, Meghan. You're probably out here to fish information out of me.”

She laughed and took another sip of water. “Why? Do you have something to hide?”

“The last time I checked, I passed clearance.”

Not as far as I'm concerned.
“Actually, I am here for something. Is your dad's invitation to dinner still open? I can't handle one more of Pepper's jalapeño meals.”

Chip leaned on one leg. Did he doubt her or was he reading her? “Dad'll love it. Sunday night is fried chicken and garlic mashed potatoes . . . and whatever needs eatin' from the garden. No church tonight. The preacher's on vacation. Come by about six thirty.” He held up a finger. “Make that 1830. I might even bring out the guitar.”

“A concert? You're an unusual man.”

“The word's
mysterious
. That's what keeps the women chasing me.”

“Please.” She laughed as she studied his appeal. The broken engagement had sealed her heart on ever wading into those waters again. But this guy had charm oozing from his hat to his boots.

Lindsay might have a hard time resisting him.

Chapter 13

Sunday afternoon, Lindsay wiped the tears from her face and stared out the window. The upstairs loft also served as a game room. Today, games were not on her mind, for the room was the site of another counseling session. Gray storm clouds deepened her pensive mood, layering the terror covering her heart. As the raindrops splattered against the window, so did the reminders of threats that had accumulated over the past four years.

Staying at the Dancin' Dust gave her no comfort. She needed a place where no one could find her. But no hideaway existed except in her drug-induced fantasy world when reality spun out of control. No matter where she went, either on the run or in her mind, she couldn't escape the prison.

“Dave, I don't want to talk about why I use drugs, my childhood, my relationship with my parents, or anything else. I have a headache.”

Dave leaned back in the copper-colored leather chair. She recognized his body language from past counselors who encouraged her to spill her guts. Good gesture, but she didn't plan to fall for subtle or direct means of urging her to talk. No point in going in a direction that had
death notice
shadowing every word.

“Your headache is natural. You know the withdrawal symptoms.”

She nodded and squeezed back another tear. Why couldn't the rain stop? Why couldn't it all stop? If only there was a way out . . . other than what she'd attempted and failed.

“Let's talk about what you'd like to do with your life.”

“My life is hopeless. That subject's off limits.”

“Hope is a choice. You've got to work at it. Where do you feel safe?” Dave's soft tone irritated her. He'd been paid big bucks to be nice to her, and that made him like most of the other people in her life. Caution ruled her tongue. Her parents might not be the only ones depositing funds into his bank account. Oh, to have a real friend, one who didn't expect something in return.

“Lindsay, when you don't answer me, I can't help you.”

Biting back a caustic remark, she tried to form an answer that would pacify him. Progress brought her closer to a discharge from the Dancin' Dust, and she had the textbook answers memorized to ensure freedom. What did that word mean anyway? If she was honest with herself, she had no clue.

Carla sat at the opposite end of the sofa with Lindsay. Dave's assistant neither smiled nor frowned. She could have been a mannequin.

Dave leaned closer. “Tell me about your sister.”

She could give him a little. Maybe he'd leave her alone. “Kelli has her act together. She's smart, and I've humiliated her a bazillion times.”

“I don't think she's embarrassed. She wants to visit you.”

No matter how much she wanted to see Kelli, why put her in danger? “She's the last person I want to see.”

“I don't believe that at all. What about when you were kids? What was it like then?”

“Do you mean at the boarding school when she tried to parent me?”

“Did you resent her? I'd like to hear about those days.”

Lindsay closed her eyes. “My sister is an image of perfection. She's always been a good role model. I was the one who rejected her. I'm jealous. Got it?”

“You can do and be anything you want. Again, it's your choice.”

The trim man with the serious eyes had no idea how far she'd fallen. “It's too late.” Visions of their childhood danced across her mind. Kelli reading stories. Tea parties on rainy afternoons. Long walks under elm trees. Fairy tales about a handsome prince who would whisk Lindsay away to live happily ever after. “None of those days are important.”

“What is? What occupies your mind? I know you're afraid of something, but what or whom? All of us here are on your side. I want to see you healthy. Your parents love you and look forward to the day when you're home with them again, and the special agents want you safe. But none of us can help you unless you take the first step.”

Dave hadn't touched on her cooperating with the agents before. Ash must be pressing him. Or her father.

“You want me to change my attitude?”

He nodded. “A change of heart followed by hard work is your best ally. I'm your friend, and I'm dedicated to helping you to attain emotional stability.”

She couldn't tell Dave or Ash or Meghan about her demons. Not anyone. She held his glance for a moment. Oh, she needed someone . . . desperately.

Chapter 14

Sunday dragged on. News from DC was slow, and Ash fought boredom as though it were a worthy adversary. Looking around at the agents in the operation room, he wanted to tear into someone to add a little oomph to his life. Not exactly an ideal solution when he should be in church. He'd give ten years of his life to be in DC with the action. Maybe five. But he wanted to be a part of the team looking for who was behind the crimes in DC.

Only the thought of a new assignment with the VPPD kept him going.

He listened to Victor type with lightning speed. The agent would pause, read the screen, then take off again. But that was his style. He could hack into the best of systems, and he'd been at it for hours in an attempt to find the source of Lindsay's untraceable e-mails. If Ash hadn't insisted on his being a part of this protective detail, that amazing brain would be behind a desk in DC.

“Let's take a break.” Ash glanced at those gathered around the table in the operation room. Even Meghan had joined them, while Dave and Carla counseled Lindsay upstairs. He wished Meghan could sit in on all those sessions, but the vice president wanted his daughter free to confide in the psychologist.

Victor snapped up his personal iPhone.

“Hey, man, let up. We'll find this guy.” Ash scooted his chair back and walked behind Victor. “Are you running on pure adrenaline?” He saw the screen on his phone. “Oh, I see what you're doing.”

Victor's attention zeroed in on his diversion. “My break, my time.”

Ash clamped a hand on Victor's shoulder. “You're not even on duty. Hey, how much sleep have you had in the last twenty-four hours?”

“I'll get to it.” Victor grinned. “A few priorities here, then I'll be diving beneath the sheets.”

Ash pointed to the screen. “It's all about skating. Sure wish Bob wasn't outside sweating in this heat. He'd love this.”

“Skating?” Meghan joined them. “What kind?”

“The only kind.” Victor leaned back in his chair. “Take a look at this.” He set his phone on the table. Skaters perched on their boards zoomed down and then up a concave ramp.

“Are you a spectator or a participant?” Meghan slid into a chair beside him.

Victor scowled. “I don't watch sports. I experience them.”

She laughed, a light sound that was real and . . . sweet. “And you compete?”

“I don't compete. I win.”

He typed in another site with the same type of skating action. This one had sound.

“That's you? Wow.” Meghan studied the screen. “Didn't know you were so talented. Are they shouting ‘Victor Lee' or ‘victory'?”

“Oh, you're good. Take a look at the trophy.” He pointed to a picture of himself on the iPhone screen holding a two-foot-tall skater figurine. “I'm Shaun White's worst enemy.”

The agents roared.

“I have no clue who Shaun White is, but I'm sure you'll tell me.” Meghan's response brought on more laughter.

Victor crossed his arms. Frustration creased his features, but Ash knew it was an act. “Try Olympic winner. Where have you been? On a ranch in Abilene?”

“Ouch. You got me there. I'm just surprised, that's all.” Meghan looked closer at the screen as the video caught a skater jump and twist. “Impressive, even if I haven't heard of your hero. Makes sense, though. You're from LA, where the majority of skaters do their thing. I mean, you're a computer geek and you're Asian.”

“Are you profiling me?”

Meghan hid a grin. “No. Getting even for all the times you've harassed me about being the only woman on the team.”

“You picked up on that?” Victor typed in another skater site.

“Yeah, the day you handed Bob a tube of lipstick. Thought it might be my color. I should have asked where you got it.”

Ash listened to the agents banter. They worked well together, and each member had a specialty for this assignment. The team needed that camaraderie to secure the ranch and ensure Lindsay's safety. They played by the rules and that kept him happy.

He studied Meghan. Odd how the one person he didn't want on the team had become his favorite.

Meghan added a dangling pair of earrings to accent her outfit and a dab of perfume to her neck. What she was about to do filled her with excitement. Maybe she should have joined the CIA and gotten involved with covert operations. But with her luck, she'd have been assigned to a desk job.

Ash met her at the bottom of the stairs. A spark of approval glistened in his blue eyes. Was it how she looked or what she attempted to do? Either way, she liked the perk.

“Looks like you're on a mission.” He had his phone to his ear, and he held up a finger. “Yes, thank you, sir.”

After he ended the call, she waited for him to speak. He always needed a few minutes to process data. God must have designed his brain like a hard drive. They'd all be in trouble if he ever hit Delete.

“I have a call at 2100. Do you think you'll be back by then?”

“Hard to say. I'm playing this for all it's worth.”