you there.”
Her alarm must have telegraphed in her expression for he was quick to reassure her.
“Check in and I’ll meet you in the room. For now, I think it’s best if we’re not seen together.”
Best for whom? Why the secrecy? But her demand would have to wait as they were jostled ahead down the narrow aisle. By the time she had elbow room on the gangway, Tag was no longer behind her. A quick glance revealed him near the cabin door where he’d stepped aside to let others go before him. Putting distance between them.
Shouldering her carry-on, Barbara turned and strode purposefully into the terminal. She refused to think of it as being abandoned all over again as she claimed her luggage and hailed a cab. As the busy network of highways carried her toward the outskirts of the nation’s capital, she blocked everything from her mind except the sound of Rose’s innocent laughter on the phone. An ache gathered in her soul. How she loved that little girl who had been all too briefly in her life. How she loved the daughter who only recently would allow her to show it. Nothing else mattered. Not her personal jeopardy. Not her uneasy alliance with a ghost from her past.
The cab climbed up the flower-lined residential streets toward the stately hotel. She’d stayed at the Wardman a long time ago, when she’d come to meet her returning war hero husband on the eve of his receipt of his Purple Heart. Robert had insisted she leave the then three-year-old Tessa behind with her parents, claiming this would be the honeymoon they’d never had. They had no practice at playing man and wife, just hasty vows said in a judge’s chambers before he returned to his unit to be shipped overseas. They’d never even been intimate. Just some hasty groping at a drive-in before she’d fallen head over heart for his best friend and a quick kiss at the judge’s urging. He’d been looking forward to this reunion for three long years, he’d told her. Just as she’d been dreading it.
Not much had changed, she thought, entering the lobby. Only the man involved. Another stranger whom fate had thrust into her life to irrevocably change it. Not this time. This time, she’d remain in control of her own destiny rather than place it in the sometimes crushing, sometimes uncaring grip of another. She’d learned that lesson, too.
“The room’s already been prepaid, Ms. Calvin,” the chipper desk clerk advised as she reached for her purse. “Enjoy your stay.”
She smiled. Not likely. Not with Tag hoarding secrets and Chet indulging in games. Not when she was checking into a hotel under a fake identity for purposes unknown. If it was covert playtime between the two men, she resented having to play along. But she would; she had to, for now.
She followed the bellhop, not to the elevators for the highrise conference tower but down a glassed hall to the older portion of the hotel. He accepted her tip with another optimistic wish that she enjoy herself before she closed the door to the room, shutting off the need to pretend that she was just another guest in D.C. there to partake of the energetic nightlife and tourist sights. Throwing the dead bolt, she let her rigid shoulders relax a notch. Okay, first step completed. I’m here, Chet. Now what?
“He left flowers and an envelope on the table by the window.”
The sudden intrusion of a man’s voice had her nearly clearing the hug of her Italian leather shoes as Tag McGee stepped from the dressing area. She didn’t bother to ask how he’d gotten in the room. She was too busy trying to get her heartbeat under control.
“I haven’t opened it yet,” he continued. “Shall we see what he has to say?”
“As long as it’s not, ‘Have a nice stay.’”
Barbara waved off the questioning look and focused on the antique drop leaf positioned decoratively in front of the privacy sheers. A beautiful arrangement of spring flowers in shades of pink and blue was displayed in a crystal vase. With a chill of recall, she remembered a similar spray at her husband’s funeral because it was the only one that had come with no card.
Had those come from Chet, as well?
Regarding the blooms with a frown, Barbara reached for the plain envelope propped up against the vase. It contained a single typewritten sheet.
“Mac and Barbie. My two favorite people together again. You have reservations on the twilight monument tour. Don’t be late.”
Tag didn’t respond to her flat reading of the note. His expression was uncommunicative. And suddenly she was furious. At his indifference. At her own drowning sense of being in over her head. Barbara returned the paper to the envelope, the burn of betrayal rising in a bitter tide. Her words were tainted by the acidic taste.
“Too bad you’ll miss it, McGee. You won’t have enough time to catch your flight.”
He didn’t react with what would have been a satisfying degree of guilt or shame. If he wondered how she’d gotten that bit of information, he didn’t express it. His response was a continued unflappable cool. “I’ll get another one. Chet wants us both to play follow the leader with him, for whatever reason, so I guess I’ll play along. For now.”
Not exactly the reassurance she’d hoped for, but it was enough. She wasn’t facing Allen alone, at least not yet.
To cover her relief and her uneasiness with McGee, she made a show of checking over their accommodations. It was a large, impressive room designed with a comfortable dignity and filled with originals, from the furniture to the art and knickknacks. Foremost, of course, was the dominating king-size bed. The sight of Tag’s duffel bag upon the jacquard coverlet made her feel like that awkward honeymooner all over again. And suddenly the room wasn’t large enough.
“The monument tour,” she mused to hide her nervousness. “Do you think he’ll try to contact us then?”
“Maybe,” was Tag’s noncommittal reply.
“Why Washington? Why couldn’t he just tell us what was going on without all this cloak-and-dagger nonsense?” Her tone grew testy with frustration and an undercurrent of fear. She had no talent for cloak-and-dagger games. That was McGee’s area, his and Allen’s. So why include her in the play? Her cheerleading days had passed a long, long time ago. Why pull her in from the spectating sidelines now?
“Because them that makes the rules are here.”
His quiet summation caught her off guard and had her swiveling to level a demanding stare. “I thought you said you didn’t know what he meant by that or who they were?”
“I said I didn’t know what he meant by it.” That’s all he would volunteer.
He stood there, so maddeningly inscrutable, the man who’d evolved from the boy she’d known and loved. The boy who had abandoned his obligations to her and the child they’d made between them. A stranger to her now. Spare of frame and expression. Making her walk a tightrope of emotions while he was firm-footed on the ground. What did she owe him? What reason could she name to put his welfare above those she cared for? Then she heard herself speak.
“They’re the ones who want you dead.”
He never even blinked. Perhaps he hadn’t understood her.
So she elaborated.
“They’re the ones who want Chet to kill you.”
Then came his jaw-dropping answer.
“I know.”
“You know?”
“I figured as much when I got the note from Chet. He used you to draw me out.”
“You knew that. You knew that and still you came?” She couldn’t get her thoughts around the magnitude of that. “Why? Why would you walk right into what could be a trap?”
“It was bound to happen sooner or later. Just a matter of time.” His brief hesitation before speaking that bland explanation told her it wasn’t the entire truth.
Because of her? Was that why? She crushed that fleeting wish. After not contacting her for thirty years, he was