“My ultimate safety rests solely with me, Mr. Marshall. I made the call when I felt there was a reasonable threat. Until that point, neither you nor my brother needed to know.” She spoke as the ambassador’s daughter she was and did not bother to hide the British accent nor the formality of her next order. “I would like to know who he is and why he was following me. I would also like to speak with the agents who responded so promptly, if you would not mind. They did an excellent job.”
“Agent Richman!”
The door opened and her brother Dave came in. He had been one of the three agents waiting inside her office when she had stepped inside, his body the one that had moved between her and the threat.
“Escort her upstairs.”
“Yes, sir.”
Dave draped his arm around her shoulders as they left the office together. “I love it when you get British, squirt.”
“Stuff it, Dave,” she replied affectionately, leaning against him.
He squeezed her shoulder. “Making it okay?”
She was a trembling mess. But it was over. Patching over the shakes was becoming all too common for her. “I could use some tea.”
“That I can probably arrange.” He gestured to another agent in the open bullpen of desks.
They went up to the thirty-fourth floor together. The suspect had just been taken downstairs.
“What have you found out, Dave?”
Her brother gestured toward the office where she created her children’s books, and they stepped inside. He shut the door behind them. “His name is Thomas Berman, and he was following you because he was instructed to do so. Apparently Adam wants to know your last name and where you work.” Dave said the last with something of a smile.
Sara sat down abruptly at her drawing table. “All of this—” she looked around, then shook her head, not sure whether to laugh or cry—“All of this was because of Adam Black?”
“Mr. Black.”
Adam looked up with a start. It was flat unheard of for his secretary to interrupt while he was on the phone.
Until now. “You are never going to believe this. Thomas Berman has just gotten himself arrested by the FBI!”
“Lance, I’ll call you back.”
Adam dropped the phone and ran both hands through his hair. This couldn’t be happening. All he wanted was a date.
A short time later, he was sitting with Jordan in the FBI office of agent David Richman, being questioned by an agent who had identified herself as Susan Vernon.
Adam was not used to getting stonewalled. “I would like to see my employee.”
“Of course, Mr. Black. You’ll be able to in due time. We are still trying to sort out exactly what happened.”
“What did happen, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Let’s just say that little red light above your head went red at 8:17 A.M., and life got a little interesting around here for a while.”
“What did Thomas do, interrupt a vice presidential speech?”
“Adam.” It was a quiet warning from Jordan.
“He followed and posed a threat to a lady we protect with a great deal of diligence,” replied a voice from the doorway. “Enough of a threat that she tripped a panic code. She hasn’t felt the need to do that in over three years.”
Adam swung around in the chair. “Sara?”
“Sara,” replied the man.
Adam wanted to swear but instead tightened his hands and deliberately relaxed them. “Is she okay?”
The man in the doorway relaxed his weight against the door frame, the shoulder holster he wore visible under his jacket. “I left her sketching dragons and fireflies,” he replied. “Susan, I’ll take back my office. Thanks for the assist.”
She smiled as she handed him the paperwork she had begun. “Anytime.”
Adam watched Agent Richman move around the desk and take a seat.
The man looked back at him, studying him. “So, you want to know her last name and where she works. Why?”
“Does it matter?”
“Adam.” It was another soft warning from Jordan.
The FBI agent waved away the warning. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s see… there was an incident in an elevator that went dark and stopped, followed by coffee at the Marque Hotel, an invitation to phone, a ball for your dog, an invitation to lunch, an invitation to coffee accompanied by a rose, an apology accompanied by two basketball game tickets— tickets which I would very much like to know how she obtained—and finally, a decision by you to try to tail her from her car to the place she worked in order to learn the information you sought. Would that be a fair summary of events?”
Since the man had given the list from memory and certainly not from any paperwork, Adam raised an eyebrow. “May I presume you are the Dave she speed dialed to tell she would be home at ten-thirty?” Adam ignored the fact Jordan had turned and looked ready to throttle him. Most of what the agent had just said, Jordan was hearing for the first time.
“Let’s just say Sara and I don’t have too many secrets.” The agent tapped his pen against the pad of paper on his desk. “However, your employee Thomas appears to have been one of them. She hadn’t mentioned to any of us the impression she was being followed. She hit a panic code this morning, and Sara hasn’t done that in the last three years.”
“Who is she?”
“No one you would know, I assure you. She writes children’s books for five-year-olds. And where said five-year-olds are concerned, she is quite famous.”
“But that’s not why she has you and all of this.” Adam gestured about him.
“No.”
“What is Thomas Berman being charged with?” Jordan asked.
“In light of the… unusual nature of what occurred, we’ll discuss it. In all likelihood, no formal charges will be made.”
Adam felt relieved at that news.
He leaned forward in his chair and considered the man across from him. Dave. His competition? His adversary? Or his potential ally? Dave clearly knew what had happened to Sara in the past, and Adam knew with absolute conviction that he wanted—no needed—to know every detail of that information. “May I see Sara?”
Dave considered for a moment and then nodded. He picked up his phone. “Sara, I have some guests who would like to see you. May we come up?”
He made a face even as he smiled, turning slightly in his chair. “You are driving a hard bargain, lady. Are you sure?”
“Okay, okay. Anything in particular sound good?”
“Done. We’ll be up in a few minutes.”
He hung up the phone. “Let’s go meet Sara.”
Dave led the way. “Susan, would you call Dirk and ask him to cater us lunch here and in Sara’s suite? She’s making me buy again, for everybody, so make sure he knows he’s catering for about thirty people.”
Susan laughed. “Glad to.”
“You know she’s doing this deliberately just so I’ll go broke one day.”
“With your private expense account? That’ll be the day,” Susan replied. “Tell her thanks from all of us.”
Thomas had been right. Sara did work in the east tower. They took the elevator to the thirty-fourth floor.
They had to pass two FBI agents to enter Sara’s office suite. The gold stenciling on the plaque outside simply said: S W, Ltd.
Sara’s secretary met them with a smile and a Texas accent as she asked if they would like something to drink. Adam declined. Jordan, with an answering smile, asked for a soft drink.
“Have a seat, gentlemen.” Dave motioned and moved to a closed door where he tapped softly.
Adam was impressed with Sara’s suite. The reception area was a profusion of flowers and fauna, the couch, chairs, and tables placed together for a visitor’s comfort.
It was a beautiful, comfortable, relaxing room.
The wall displayed children’s books, the covers enticing one to linger and browse. Several of the covers carried the gold medallion of a major award. Interest
ing. It wasn’t what Adam would have placed as her profession, yet it fit. Her work was exceptional.
Her secretary brought Jordan his drink. A phone rang and she retreated to an open office off the reception area to answer it.
“Adam, you really should play it cool when you see Sara. Apologize profusely. These guys are close to having legal rights to charge you with harassment.”
“They won’t.”
“Probably not, but they could make your life miserable. As your lawyer, as well as your brother-in-law, I strongly suggest you promise to keep your distance and never seek her out again.”
“She’s not going to take it that way.”
“Oh, really? You said she was really terrified by that experience in the elevator. How do you think she felt this morning at the moment she hit that panic code? Fine? You managed to scare the daylights out of her. Don’t expect a nice reception here.”
Adam already knew that. He had known it the moment the agent had said Sara had sent a panic code. He had seen her cope with the incident in the elevator and pull herself together so quickly it made his head spin. He only hoped she had coped in the same way with this morning’s incident.
Adam would never knowingly have caused her trauma… . but the hard truth was that he had. It was inexcusable. He owed her more than just an apology, but he didn’t want his actions to cause her yet more grief.
“Come on in, gentlemen.” Dave gestured from the now open doorway.
It was obviously Sara’s domain. There were sketches and storyboards all around, large work surfaces laying out books in progress. It was a place that any child would have found enthralling. The pictures and sketches conveyed the talent of a world-class artist. The room was vibrant in colors and the flowers were profuse.
She was sketching, a colored pencil in one hand, a cup of tea in the other.
Dave walked over and set his hand on her shoulder. He looked at the sketch. “This one is pretty neat.”
She smiled, still looking at the sketch, then she glanced up at them and lowered her gaze back to the sketch.
Adam did not like the tense look in her face that had yet to fade.
She set down the cup of tea, pulled the sketch from the pad, and handed it to Dave. “Add it to your collection.”
“You’re going to make me rich with all these free drawings.”
Sara squeezed the hand on her shoulder. “Right. You’re already rich.”
Adam saw her take a deep breath and reach for her cup of tea before she looked over at him.
“Please, gentlemen, have a seat.” Her tone of voice was formal. There were several stools around the room, as well as conventional chairs. She smiled at Jordan when introduced.
Dave remained standing, leaning against the drafting table by her side.
“Dave, has Mr. Berman been released yet?”
“Soon.”
“Adam, please apologize to your employee for me. I’m afraid he got more than he bargained for when he tried to approach me. These gentlemen stop you forcefully and ask questions later.”
“I will, Sara. You have my word.”
“I feel bad for him. He was clearly just the messenger.”
“Are you okay?”
Adam was surprised to find she looked up at Dave before she answered. “Fine.”
She wasn’t. He wondered what was going on in her mind. He wished they were alone, not being watched by his brother-in-law and her protective FBI agent. He wished she were relaxed, not so tense her fingers were white as they held the cup of tea. “I am so sorry, Sara. I would never have knowingly frightened you.”
“Tomorrow it will be forgotten.”
He doubted that.
She smiled, seeming to collect herself. “Since you went to such extreme lengths to learn where I worked, would you be interested in seeing the place?”
Her invitation clearly took her some courage to offer. There had been more than a little damage done to this lady this morning. His error. His responsibility.
“Yes, I would,” he replied, knowing he was starting at ground zero with her again.
Dave took the teacup from her as she got to her feet. “I’ll get you some more tea.”
“Thanks, Dave.”
“Jordan, why don’t you and I talk about Mr. Berman for a moment,” Dave requested.
Sara led Adam to the far wall and the story line sketched there. “This is my next book.”
God, what do I say that will help her? You are the only one who really knows where she’s at inside. What does she need to hear?
Adam looked at the charcoal sketches and the few she had done in color and could see a playfulness to her work that made him smile. “It’s good, Sara.”
“I think so.”
She showed him several of the stories she was working on, and he asked some questions, learning how a children’s book was produced. He also heard her relax as she was pulled into a world that was obviously a passion in her life.
“Is there any way I can apologize?” he asked quietly when her words tapered off.
He had been watching her hands. They were clenched together or pushed into the pockets of her jacket when they were not gesturing as she described something. She was trying to stop them from trembling. She was relaxing, but she had a long way to go before she was steady. He desperately wanted to make today fade from her memory.
“I’m fine, Adam. Believe me, I have been through much tougher mornings.”
“But it never should have happened.” Adam gently touched her hand and felt the soft tremor in it. “I didn’t know. But that is hardly an excuse.” From the corner of his eye he saw the FBI agent moving toward them.
Adam was glad Sara had the protection she obviously needed, but it felt quite stifling to know his every move anywhere near her was being closely watched and reacted to.
His own life in the spotlight had felt nothing like this. There had been a lot of team security and at times a lot of personal security around him. But this was different. This was protective coverage, not general security.
“Dave’s quite protective,” he remarked, admitting the obvious with a reluctant smile as he dropped his hand.
Sara smiled. “He’s also my brother.”
Adam felt like she had dropped a bomb. “You’re serious?”
“It makes security easier. I can trust him.”
Adam felt one enormous weight lift from his shoulders. Dave was not his competition.
“When can we have dinner together?”
“Adam…”
“I’m not taking no for an answer, not after nearly getting one of my best employees arrested just to ask the question.” Adam knew what he wanted to secure before he left this office. He wanted, no needed, time with Sara, and he would have it arranged before they parted company today. If he didn’t, he knew she would have time to put obstacle after obstacle in his path.
Sara bit her bottom lip. Eating out meant security. It would never work. Adam might be able to adjust to the watching eyes, but her conversation would at best be stilted. She would never be able to be herself when men she had known for five, and some of them ten, years watched every move she made and every move around her. The men would be discreet, kind, and she knew them well enough to know there would be no unnecessary intrusions on her evening. But she would know they were there, and that would be enough to turn her into a flustered ball of nerves.
Sara made up her mind. “Come for dinner Friday night. Security is easier on my own turf.”
Adam’s smile told her it had been the right decision.
“I can’t believe you invited him to dinner.”
“Dave, why won’t you let the subject drop? It’s not like I’m going on a date. I just want somewhere private to explain why I’m not interested in seeing him, to ask him to back off.”
Her brother checked the rearview mirror again. “Sure.”
“Why do I get the impression you’re not buying a word I’m saying?”
“B
ecause I’m not.”
“I might feel a certain…attraction,” Sara admitted, “but he’s a public figure. A well-known public figure with all those commercials he has made.”
“Don’t forget the magazines.”
“Exactly my point. He was voted Most Eligible Chicago Bachelor last year for goodness’ sake. There is no way we could ever have a relationship. You and I both know it. Why do you think I kept turning down his invitations? One photo, one too-inquisitive journalist who tried to go into my past, and my life, my privacy here would disappear. I like him, okay? I’ll admit that. But I don’t like him that much.”
“Sara, we can’t let the trail lead to you. Right now that second kidnapper doesn’t have a name or a location. Sara Walsh has no connection to Sara Richman. Our mother’s marriage to Peter Walsh, your adoption papers, have been so deeply buried that no one is going to make that connection without access to sealed documents. Don’t do something foolish that will change that.”
“Dave, I promise. On Mother’s grave. I won’t let there be a lapse in security. Now, is the lecture over?”
Dave reached over and squeezed her hand. “I know this is hard for you. I know that, but we are going to catch this guy one day. His last package to the embassy had the necklace you were wearing when you were snatched. All the profilers say he is becoming more and more obsessed with what happened. Every package and letter he sends gives another clue to work with. We will either catch him or convince his partner to give him up.”
“After twenty-five years, do you honestly expect the kidnapper who was convicted to say a word?”
“No,” Dave admitted. “It would be too easy. I think his partner got to him and convinced him to keep his mouth shut or he would wind up dead.”
CHAPTER 5
So this is your place. I have to say, Sara, I’m impressed.” “Actually this was my grandmother’s home. She left it to Dave and me,” Sara commented as she closed the front door behind him.
The property was not large enough to be classified as an estate, but the five acres of open land allowed the house to be set toward the back of the property. Large flower beds landscaped the grounds around the house.