“Here you are, Ms. Lassiter.” The young assistant ushered her into a room occupied by a smiling woman in a smudged smock. “Val will do your hair and makeup.”
Val pointed with her comb. “If you’ll take a seat here I’ll have a look in my bag of tricks.”
Bren sank into the chair and set her coffee aside.
Val lifted a strand of her hair. “Great color.”
“Thanks.”
“Who did it?”
Bren couldn’t help chuckling. “Nature.”
“You don’t say.” Val joined in the laughter. “Lucky you.” She touched a hand to her own hair, streaked with purple. “The rest of us have to help Mother Nature along.” She began opening jars and pots, blending colors into the palm of her hand.
Seeing it, Bren arched a brow. “I’d like to look as natural as possible.”
“I understand. But the studio lights would wash you out without the proper makeup.” As the woman talked she began adding foundation, a bit of color to Bren’s cheeks, some creamy eyeshadow. After sponging muted color on her lips she picked up a comb and teased a few curls before saying, “There you go, Congresswoman. On camera this makeup won’t even show. All the audience at home will see is your pretty face.”
Bren grinned. “I’d rather the audience would pay attention to what I say.”
“Then just flash them that big smile, and you’ll have them eating out of your hand.”
Bren chuckled. “Promise?”
“Yeah.” Val glanced up as the production assistant returned. “Right on time. Ten minutes to showtime, and I still have one more guest to get ready.”
The young woman juggled an armload of notes. “If you’ll follow me, Ms. Lassiter, I’ll take you into the studio now.”
In the doorway Bren turned to Val. “Thanks for your help. Even if I make a fool of myself out there, at least I know I’ll look good.”
“That you will, Congresswoman. Happy to oblige.”
Bren followed the assistant to the studio where the moderators were already seated at a round table. After greeting each of them, she took her assigned seat and a member of the crew came forward to attach the microphone to her lapel.
A floor manager was giving last-minute directions to the cameramen. He, in turn, was getting his orders through an earphone from the director who was seated with the technicians in a booth to one side.
Above the din a voice came through a speaker. “Is the police chief here yet?”
The moderator shook his head. “Chief Martin isn’t coming. He’s sending one of his officers. A Captain Banning.”
The floor manager turned to Bren. “We’re doing a mike check. The director would like you to say a few words.”
Bren cleared her throat. “Good morning. My name is…”
He nodded. “Thanks. That’ll do.” He called out, “One minute to show time, ladies and gentlemen. Where’s our other guest?”
“Coming now,” the production assistant shouted from the doorway.
“Get the lead out,” came a booming voice as a member of the crew stepped up to attach the last microphone.
The floor manager began counting down, and silence settled over the room.
Bren watched as the crew member stepped aside, revealing the face of their other guest.
She let out a gasp and was grateful that the camera was trained on the moderator. Otherwise, all around the country, she would have been seen in a moment of absolute, jaw-dropping astonishment.
She was only vaguely aware of the moderator’s voice making the introductions.
“Our guests this morning come from opposite sides of a very hot topic here in Washington this week. Congresswoman Mary Brendan Lassiter and D.C. Police Captain Christopher Banning.”
The moderator turned to her. “Congresswoman, you gave an impassioned speech yesterday, in which you called for an independent investigation of our police force, and made a plea to limit the amount of force a police officer may use in the pursuit of his duty.”
She managed a smile. “I’m afraid that’s a bit simplistic, David. I did say that if the public is unhappy with the results of an investigation of the force by its Internal Affairs Department, it ought to be followed up by an independent investigation. I wouldn’t care if that were done by a government agency, or even one launched by one of the city’s newspapers, as long as it would uncover the facts. As for limiting firepower, consider this—if even one innocent person is harmed while a police officer is pursuing duty, that’s one person too many. I believe our police can go about their jobs without causing death and destruction to the people they’re being paid to protect.”
The moderator turned to Chris. “How would you respond to that, Captain Banning?”
“I would have to say I agree with the congresswoman. The last thing a police officer wants is to bring harm to the innocent.” Chris kept his hands carefully folded atop the table and kept his smile in place. But just barely. He was still in a state of shock. If anyone had told him that the gorgeous redhead who had cost him a night’s sleep was Congresswoman Mary Brendan Lassiter, he’d have burst into a fit of laughter. With that shiny cap of red curls and those laughing eyes, she looked more like a perky model pitching mouthwash or herbal shampoo. She was the absolutely last person he’d expected to see sitting across from him during a televised debate. “We take great pride in our work. We realize that it isn’t for the faint of heart.”
“So.” The moderator turned to his colleague with a look of puzzlement. “It seems that instead of a debate, we have like minds on the subject.”
“Hardly.” Chris saw the camera return to his face. “Though we may agree on our goals, we certainly disagree on how to attain them. Anything that limits the ability of a police of ficer to carry out his mission with a maximum of safety should be soundly rejected by our citizens. As for allowing an independent agency to investigate our force, I see that as overkill. That’s exactly what our Internal Affairs Department is paid to do.”
The moderator seemed absolutely delighted. It occurred to Bren that if he were off camera, he’d probably be rubbing his hands in glee. Still, she couldn’t help rising to the challenge.
“I’m sure Captain Banning wants to assure his men and women as much safety as is humanly possible. As do I. But not at the expense of civilians. The men and women who serve as police officers are highly trained. Not so our citizens. The average person has no defense against high-speed chases on our highways, or high-powered assault rifles being discharged into a crowd. What I called for on the floor of the House, and what my committee is investigating, is a common-sense approach to police work in our community and around the country. We don’t necessarily want to curb their firepower. But we do want to rein in those few who abuse their power. I believe that our police officers should be given basic sensitivity training, so that they are more open to the needs of the community. And when they violate basic sensitivity, they should be open to a thorough investigation. I disapprove of the code of silence that prevents honest, decent members of the police force from revealing the identity of fellow officers who choose the path of dishonesty. If our citizens don’t accept the credibility of Internal Affairs, they should have the right to demand an open and honest investigation of the department.”
Chris saw the heads of several of the media nodding in agreement. He would give her this much. She could be very persuasive. But then, so could he. Which was why the chief had given him this assignment.
He kept his tone reasonable. “Though I agree that we need to be sensitive to the needs of the people we serve, I must emphasize that anything that ties the hands of our officers also threatens the safety of our citizens. The only thing that stands between your safety and the violence of the street is the enforcement of law. Your police officer is that enforcer. As my chief said, “If I could give my men and women on the force rocket launchers, I would.”
There was a smattering of laughter, and the moderator took that moment to call for a comme
rcial break.
As the cameras cut away, an assistant approached Bren. “Our moderator wants you to know that you’ll be allotted one full minute for a closing argument.”
Bren watched as another assistant spoke to Chris. The two shared an easy laugh. Apparently he was as cool and composed under this kind of fire as he’d been last night under a very different sort. She sighed and realized the young woman was waiting for her response. “Give David my thanks. One minute ought to do nicely.”
When the young woman walked away, Bren looked over to see Chris staring at her. She gave a slight nod of her head in acknowledgment. That brought a smile to his lips before he returned his attention to the floor manager, who was signaling that the show was about to continue.
As the camera technicians moved into position, Bren wondered how much longer she could keep her smile in place. She’d been looking forward to giving the voters her side of this issue. Meet the Media was considered the perfect vehicle for such things, and, like her colleagues, she’d leaped at the opportunity to appear. But now it all felt flat. Because of Chris Banning.
That only made her want to try even harder to get her point across. She hadn’t come here to be beaten down by a good-looking, smooth-talking sharpie in a cop’s uniform.
She’d always been a sucker for a man in uniform. It probably came from her hero worship of her dad. And this man looked so good, he could be a model for a recruitment poster. Razor-short dark hair. Drop-dead-perfect features. Strong, square jaw. A killer smile. And a body that would cause any normal female from eight to eighty to drool.
A question asked of him by one of the media had her snapping to attention.
“Captain Banning, I’m told you are one of the department’s youngest, and its most highly decorated, captains. That doesn’t come without its share of danger. After your years in the trenches, is it possible to retain your idealism? Or do you become hardened to the realities of life?”
Chris flicked a glance at Bren. “I suppose I’m something of a cynic. After seeing the seamiest side of life, there’s a certain amount of grit on my rose-colored glasses.”
“And you, Congresswoman Lassiter? I see by your bio that you are the granddaughter of a police lieutenant, and the daughter of a police officer who died in the line of fire. Shouldn’t those things make you even more eager to boost the weapons of our police, rather than limit their access to high-powered weapons?”
Bren saw Chris straighten and stare directly at her. He looked as surprised as she’d been earlier. At least that was one point in her favor.
“I did lose my father, Riordan Lassiter, in the line of duty. And I’m reminded daily just how precious life is. Because of a carefully aimed bullet from a high-powered rifle, and one moment frozen in time, I had to grow up without the man I loved more than my own life. I want our police to be the best-equipped, the safest in the world. But at the same time I want our citizens to feel equally safe, not only from criminals, but from those officers who react in a careless manner with weapons that can destroy life. I believe that it’s possible for our police and our citizens to find a common ground.”
While Bren had been speaking, the moderator had been handed a piece of paper, which he quickly scanned. Now he looked up sharply. “According to the wire services, you were accosted at gunpoint last night in your apartment parking garage, Congresswoman Lassiter. Is that correct?”
She felt her face flaming. “It is. But I hadn’t realized it made the news.”
“And why not? It isn’t every night that a member of our own Congress is attacked at gunpoint. How did you escape unharmed?”
“I had help from a stranger.”
The moderator nodded and tapped a finger on the paper. “According to this, your rescuer was none other than Captain Banning.”
Bren nodded, aware that there was no point in trying to make light of the incident, now that the news had been leaked. “At the time, I didn’t know his name. In fact, it wasn’t until today, on this show, that I learned of his identity.”
The moderator turned to Chris. “And you, Captain Banning? Did you know that you’d saved the life of one of our members of Congress?”
Chris shook his head. “I was just glad to be of assistance.”
One of the other members of the panel asked, “Does this change your mind about limiting the use of police weapons, Ms. Lassiter?”
“Not at all. In fact, as I recall, Captain Banning never used his weapon. Unless you want to call his fists weapons.”
“Apparently they were adequate,” the reporter deadpanned.
There was a smattering of laughter.
The moderator turned to Chris. “Because of the time this breaking-news item took, it looks like you’ll get the last word, Captain Banning.”
Chris looked over at Bren, reading her discomfort. “It’s easy to see that Congresswoman Lassiter is sincere. And I applaud her for that. I disagree with the politicians who make pretty speeches and then retreat to the comfort of their ivory towers.”
Bren flinched, knowing that was exactly how many of the viewers would see her. Had it been deliberate on his part, just to leave that impression? Or had it been an innocent comment?
“But however well intentioned the congresswoman’s motives, she seems to be straddling the fence. She wants it both ways. Open our doors to scrutiny by both the press and the public and risk leaking important information better kept under wraps by our Internal Affairs investigators. Collar the police, keep them on a leash, but insist that they continue to keep our citizens safe. Sorry. That’s playing right into the hands of the criminal. The court is the proper venue for protecting the rights of both criminal and victim. But don’t restrict the police while they try to do their job. Don’t tie the hands of the ones who put their lives on the line every day for your safety.”
The floor manager signaled the moderator, who shot a brilliant smile at the camera. “That’s all for this week’s segment of Meet the Media. Our thanks to Congresswoman Mary Brendan Lassiter and Captain Christopher Banning for contributing to a lively debate.”
There was another moment of silence, and then, while the crew began moving cables and stashing microphones, Bren and Chris were surrounded by the members of the press who had formed the panel.
“Fine job, Ms. Lassiter.”
“Thank you.”
“And you, Captain Banning. You had us worried that you wouldn’t make it.”
“Sorry. There was an…incident on my way here.”
“Don’t tell me you stumbled onto another armed attack on a civilian?”
That brought a round of laughter from the assembled.
“No. Sorry. I don’t usually get more than two or three of those a day.” Chris smiled easily. “Just a minor traffic accident. As soon as help arrived on the scene, I was able to leave. Thanks again for having me here to express the views of my department.”
Seeing Bren taking her leave, he started across the studio.
Before Bren could shut the door he was beside her, matching his pace to hers. “How about stopping for some coffee? I’ll even allow you to try your powers of persuasion on me.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse. But there was just something about his smile that had her heart doing a slow dip. He put a hand under her elbow and began steering her toward the parking lot.
Something perverse in her nature had her flashing that warm Lassiter smile. “Why not? My car or yours?”
Chapter 3
Chris held the door of his car open while Bren settled herself inside. Then he rounded the car and slid behind the wheel.
He flashed her another heart-stopping smile. “I know a place where they make the best omelets in town.”
“You just said the magic word.”
“Ah. A woman after my own heart.” He put the car in gear and headed into light traffic. “I was afraid, judging by that perfect figure, that you might be one of those women who eat nothing but berries and twigs.”
&nbs
p; She was still reacting from his remark about her figure when her cell phone rang. She fished it from her shoulder bag. “Hello.”
Hearing the voice on the line, she fell silent a moment before saying, “Sorry, Pop. I know I should have called you last night. But I needed some time.” After another pause she said softly, “I didn’t plan on having my entire family learn about it from a TV show. But I’m fine. Really.” She sighed. “All right. I’ll talk to her.”
She took in a deep breath before saying, “Hi, Mom. Yes, I’m fine. It was very frightening. But it’s over now. No, I won’t be by until later today. I’m…going to breakfast right now with Captain Banning.” She paused and glanced at Chris, who kept his eyes on the highway. “Yes, I’ll tell him. Bye now.”
She tucked her phone in her bag. “My mother sends you her thanks.”
“All in a day’s work. I take it your family’s a little upset?”
“To put it mildly.” Bren shrugged. “She and my grandfather weren’t too happy to hear the news on TV before I’d had a chance to tell them.”
“I can’t blame them for that. Why didn’t you phone them last night?”
“Because I knew this would be their reaction. They’re being overprotective, as always. Now they don’t want me to spend another night alone in my apartment. They both think I’d be better off staying with them for a while.”
“Maybe they’re right.”
She sighed. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a big girl now.”
Chris gave her a look that had the heat rising to her cheeks. “Oh, yeah, I’ve noticed.”
He turned into the parking lot of a graceful white building with green canopies over tall, floor-to-ceiling windows. It looked more like a cozy country cottage than a restaurant.