Part 4 (2/2)

Lach motioned toward the car with his hand, indicating that she should step aside. Doing so, Phoebe watched as he pulled on the handle and opened the door. He patiently waited while she tossed her purse into the pa.s.senger area on the far side, but she didn't settle herself into the driver's seat. Instead, she faced him one more time and made sure that she didn't hold back any emotions that she knew were s.h.i.+ning within her eyes. She laid everything out on the line.

”I have always put everyone else ahead of me. I've practically raised my sister, promoted and nurtured my mother's foundation, and now I'm putting my life on hold to support my father's dreams.” Phoebe had to stop and take a deep breath, ignoring the small stutter in her inhalation. It had nothing to do with the cold air. ”I hope to G.o.d, for your sake, that when the time comes that I can actually live for myself that you're ready for me, Agent In Charge.”

Chapter Ten.

Four weeks later, Lach sat at the same cafe he had that very first day and kept a vigilant watch over Phoebe from afar. Brent was inside with her as always, along with Dunaway's PSD Agent, so campaign headquarters was relatively secure. He and Phoebe had gotten into a routine and kept things professional, just as they'd discussed. The days were rather mundane while their attraction simmered, and at times wanted to boil over. The snow that was falling outside did little to cool the temptation that he would enjoy giving into. His resolve was weakening with every sunrise, which was why he was sitting across the street while she was tucked safely inside campaign headquarters.

”You look like someone p.i.s.sed in your Wheaties.”

He didn't bother to look over the small table as Connor pulled out a chair and took a seat. Lach had seen him approaching in the reflection of the windowpane. Lach kept his gaze locked on the street and the activities around the area. He wasn't in the mood for small talk, and so far the threats that started this Personal Security Detachment had yielded nothing-that was, in regards to the handwritten letters. An arrest had been made in reference to the emails. It appeared that the two threats had not been connected in any way. Other than that bit of excitement, the holidays had pa.s.sed by uneventful and a new year had started.

”I haven't had enough coffee.”

”Well, then what I have to say just might brighten your day and you won't need that caffeine,” Connor stated, finally pulling Lach's attention his way. ”Victor Ward pled guilty today to communicating a threat of violence and first-degree telecommunications hara.s.sment. Taryn presented her findings as an expert witness to the prosecutor and it didn't take long for the defense lawyer to lead his client down the correct path. This time the man's a.s.s should stay in jail for quite a while.”

”That's good news, although I feel bad for his daughter. It was obvious Hannah didn't know her father sent those emails. Regardless, she won't be allowed to work on any campaign any time soon.” Lach was impressed that Taryn had located the originating server under the circ.u.mstances. The network was masked and the IPs were intentionally falsified to make it appear that the emails had originated outside of the country. She had to resort to tracking back the machine level MAC addresses to determine where the trail had been covered up and later rea.s.signed. She actually got everything done quicker than she'd stated it would take.

It wasn't long after that when Victor Ward's arrest had taken place, but since he'd gotten himself a young defense attorney who wanted to make a name for himself, the system had been dragging on a little too long for everyone's liking. The prosecutor finally had to pull the young attorney aside and school him on what he was doing to his career and exactly who he was p.i.s.sing off. Lach took a drink of what was left of the lukewarm coffee in his mug. He'd gotten used to the bitter flavored liquid they served here and found it wasn't half bad. ”You think that particular news item is a good enough subst.i.tution for caffeine? You're warped.”

”What can I say?” Connor asked with a grin. ”Lauren has a way of making my mornings invigorating. To top it off, this snowstorm that's coming in this afternoon ought to make for a very warm night in front of a roaring fireplace on a goose down-filled comforter.”

”I don't want to hear about your very boring and disturbingly disappointing s.e.x life.” Lach signaled for the waitress to bring him a refill and to bring Connor a cup as well. ”Now if you've come to say that Ward confessed to writing the letters as well, then I'll give you a pa.s.s and let you get Lauren to make me one of those paddles I saw Flint using on Sh.e.l.ley last week.”

”My fiance does amazing work, doesn't she?” Connor sat back while the waitress poured Lach a refill and then set a new cup and saucer in front of him. It was easy to see that the waitress wanted to hear more about what they were discussing, but Connor waited until she'd left to finish what he was saying. Their penchant for the BDSM lifestyle might fascinate other people, but when it came right down to it, the subject usually got mixed reactions from the general public. Lauren Bailey had made a business of adorning BDSM implements with high quality jewels. Her craft was beautifully designed and had gotten recognition from several of the upper scale clubs around the country. ”You know Lauren would do anything for you. Ask and you shall receive.”

Lach nodded, but didn't delve into the discussion that this conversation was leading to. Yes, he'd gotten shot in the chest protecting Lauren from some mentally f.u.c.ked up douche bag who'd wanted to prove to one of the Mistresses at the club that he wasn't quite as pathetic as he appeared and was worthy of her attention. Masters had been closed down for a brief stint and it took Jax and Connor both to rebuild the trust that was instrumental in keeping such a club open to discreet and select clientele. They had tied their considerable knowledge of background investigations into the club's members.h.i.+p selection process and determined there needed to be some changes on how members were screened. Regardless, Lach had just been doing his job when he had reacted to an immediate threat and didn't need unwelcome or unneeded praise.

”Ward still says he had nothing to do with the handwritten letters. Taryn put a rush on the lab results, but preliminaries show there were no fingerprints or any type of DNA, or other trace evidence she could discern at her level.”

”What about the brand of paper or the ink that was used?” Lach asked, glancing back across the street. Kimmie was bundled up in a black ski jacket and matching knit hat as she walked toward campaign headquarters. Her attending agent was one step behind and to the curbside of her, while Ethan was pulling up the rear, his phone attached to his ear. ”Is there something special about the brands that we may be able to follow up on?”

”Generic enough to be worthless in tracing it to any particular source.” Connor was reaching into his jacket and it didn't take long for Lach to know why. His phone was also vibrating and the two devices going off at the same time didn't bode well. Having all three of their objectives together in one place would either be a good thing or a tragic one. Both men stood and were out the door as Connor relayed the message. ”Kimmie found a letter in her backpack. Ethan's called Crest in. He'll be here ASAP.”

Lach zipped up his jacket and slipped on his wraparound ESS Crossbow Ballistic Shades, the bitter wind trying to obtain a way through the black leather of his coat. He looked both ways as they crossed the street, taking the time to observe the pedestrians as well as the vehicles through the flying flakes. His advanced eyewear improved the picture and allowed him to avoid covering up to protect his eyes from the cold air and damaging glare. No one and nothing stood out, but if there were anything to find, the numerous surveillance cameras that were surrounding the building would surely catch what the human eye couldn't.

It was pointless to ask questions, since Connor knew just as much as Lach did at this precise time. It didn't take long, and once they'd crossed the highly trafficked street they immediately entered the gla.s.s paned main door. Warmth instantly enveloped them, along with the sounds of ringing phones and the endless low murmurs from the volunteers. The place reminded Lach of one of those telethons that would come on Sunday mornings to raise money for some public access channel.

Phoebe was toward the right side of the room, her sister now standing in front of her obviously explaining what she'd found. Lach didn't want Kimmie to have to go through the facts more than was necessary, so he crossed the floor and interrupted their conversation, ignoring Phoebe's fragrance as it tried to infiltrate his pores. The black sweater dress hugged her body and left little to his overactive imagination, while the sky-high black leather boots made her legs longer than they actually were. He knew the exact length of her naked and highly sensuous form.

”This isn't something you should be discussing out here in the open,” Lach stated, his voice low so that he wasn't overheard. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Connor was already in Dunaway's office, along with Ethan and Paul Mooney. ”Let's take this into your father's office, please.”

It was easy to feel the gazes of the others as Lach escorted the ladies into Dunaway's office. There would be speculation, and though Mooney had tried to keep a lid on the threats, it had become public knowledge when Victor Ward had been arrested. No one else was privy to the fact that the person writing the threatening letters was still doing so. Closing the door behind them, Lach knew it was just in time as Dunaway's voice boomed throughout the office.

”This person targeted Kimmie? How the h.e.l.l did they get that close to her?”

”They didn't, sir.” Ethan stood on the far right of the room, his arms down in front of him with one hand encircling his other wrist. ”Jacob cleared the cla.s.sroom before your daughter entered, as is protocol, and he found an envelope on one of the desks. Whoever it was knew Kimmie's schedule and had already antic.i.p.ated that the letter would be found.”

”Taryn has pulled the video feed from the university's building security, but unfortunately that specific hallway is not monitored.” Crest's voice came over the speaker in the desk phone where Connor must have connected him in. Lach could feel Phoebe's worried gaze on him, but he wouldn't give her the a.s.surance she needed. He wasn't sure if he could and the one thing he would never do was lie to her. ”We'll compare the times of the cla.s.ses, look into the students who were there beforehand, as well as those people entering and exiting the building from the start of the day until the letter was found. Taryn will find us a key lead using facial recognition software or develop a fresh set of leads so that we can finally wrap this up so that you can concentrate on the primaries.”

Paul Mooney, Phoebe, and the staff had been pulling double duty since Dunaway's announcement. Phoebe had been on more talk shows, media channels, and attending enough rallies to be physically drained, yet she continually had a smile on her face unless he'd made a point to make eye contact with her. It was only then that her smile faltered and her blue eyes deepened. He refused to lead them down that road and had purposefully kept his distance, monitoring her and her surroundings from afar.

”Dad, they did their jobs.” Kimmie had shed her coat, although her knitted hat was still in place. Worry for her father etched her face. ”No one has gotten close to me, and in fact I didn't even know about the letter until after they'd escorted me from the building.”

”Where is it?” Dunaway was standing behind his desk with his fists resting on the surface. Lach switched his gaze to Phoebe, who had taken a seat in the other chair. Her eyes were still on him, yet he couldn't give her the comfort she needed. ”Where's the letter?”

”We've given it to Jax, who is personally running it over to the Minneapolis Crime Lab.” Ethan maintained his composure, and had Lach not been looking at his hands he wouldn't have seen the tightening of his fingers. Lach knew the adrenaline rush his friend must have felt upon discovering a threat in the vicinity of where his primary was. ”It was your basic threat regarding the partisan of the upcoming Right to Work bill.”

Lach listened as he tried to sort out the latest threat. Victor Ward was proud of his actions and satisfied that his protests had reached the media. He hadn't targeted a specific topic, although it was more to draw attention to politicians and their promises. Lach refused to be drawn into those discussions. He had his own viewpoints and he would make his choice come election time. The person behind the handwritten notes seemed to have a personal agenda with the Right to Work bill, which didn't make sense. The bill was across party lines, so why make that a focus?

”And what of that one kid that you had investigated at the university?” Dunaway rubbed the back of his neck, the frustration with his inability to control the situation apparent. ”Was he anywhere near the building?”

”Austin Bentley wasn't on campus this morning,” Ethan responded. ”As was stated in my report, he finds the political arena fascinating and thought that by figuring out how to get close to Kimmie, he'd have an inside track to the campaign. We took care of that.”

”He's not a kid,” Kimmie argued, finally seeming more like herself. ”He's twenty-six and almost done with his master's degree. He hangs out with some friends of mine and now he won't even talk to me.”

”I find it hard to believe that Kaufman Rance and Philip Andrews would resort to delivering a message to one of your daughters.” Paul finally spoke from where he leaned against the wall near the door. His arms were crossed and his impatience was evident. ”One, they both agree with your sentiment on the bill. Second, children are off the table. So it's got to be someone else.”

Lach mentally shook his head at the games and unwritten rules that came into play during vital elections like these. At the beginning of this case, Mooney had practically thrown Rance and Andrews under the bus. Men like Paul wanted to win and didn't care how that happened. Jax had looked into both running mates and came up empty-handed, although Rance had a very interesting past. Every person on their staff had also had a background check done and from what Lach could see their campaign managers were just as hungry for victory as Mooney was.

”Everyone is a suspect until the target is apprehended,” Crest replied, static coming from the speakerphone. Paul shook his head, as if they were all barking up the wrong tree. Be that as it may, but that was why he ran these backwater dealings in politics and not a security firm. ”We haven't ruled out anyone and it's only a matter of time before he or she makes a mistake. The primary election is in three weeks. If this person is in any way serious about carrying out any type of physical threat, it will happen sooner rather than later.”

”Did this letter mention something specific?” Dunaway asked, his concentration now solely on the speakerphone as if Crest held all of the answers.

”I'm five minutes away, but Ethan and Lach, go ahead and clear out. The front of the storm has made its appearance. Take Phoebe and Kimmie to their homes while I conclude my meeting with Connor and Mr. Dunaway. Keep an eye on your phones. I'll be keeping you all updated as information comes in from what Jax, Kevin, and Taryn are discovering.”

Lach pushed away from his position against the window of the office and waited for Phoebe to stand. She'd been unusually quiet and that in and of itself kept his guard up. Brent was standing right outside the door, but until Lach was sent that message from Crest, it would be Lach by her side. He indicated for Brent to grab Phoebe's coat and get her ready to leave, before pulling Ethan aside for a brief moment.

”What did it say?”

”Crest was trying to trip up Mooney,” Ethan said in a low voice, understandably wanting to keep this information between the three of them. Connor had walked up, blocking their view from the others. ”He didn't fall for it, so either he knows we're on to him or he's just f.u.c.king innocent. Turns out Mooney switched candidates four years prior. Dunaway defends the man's decision, but there was talk of double-crossing. Who the h.e.l.l knows with this crowd?”

”He didn't take the bait, but my gut feeling is that Mooney isn't our guy anyway.” Connor rotated his shoulder, a self-conscious habit that told Lach it was an old injury. ”At the rate this is going, Lauren and I won't have a wedding any time soon.”

”No worries there, buddy. If Dunaway wins the primary, I guarantee you the Secret Service will take over immediately. The letter basically stated he should drop out before the election or else harm would come to his family.” Ethan looked over Connor's shoulder, although Lach could see clearly that everyone else was otherwise engaged in their own conversation. Kimmie was speaking with her father, Paul had gotten a hold of Phoebe before she could exit the office, and everyone else was out in the bullpen trying to figure out what was going on. He had no doubt that someone would leak to the media that something was transpiring within the Dunaway campaign. ”Crest's right as usual. When this guy strikes, it's going to be fast.”

Chapter Eleven.

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