“No need,” Wes said, her pulse racing despite her best intentions, “but feel free to call anytime.”

Evyn paused, her expression growing intent. “I’ll do that.”

Chapter Twenty-four

The cab stopped at Fifteenth and E streets, and Wes passed bills to the driver for the fare and opened her door. Evyn had spent the ride from the airport downloading mail and answering texts, and Wes had been grateful not to make small talk. She couldn’t think of a thing to say that wouldn’t ring false after the last thirty-six hours. “I’ll see you. Take care, okay?”

“Yeah. I will,” Evyn said. “You too.”

“’Night.” Wes stepped out and dragged her go bag out after her. The cab pulled away to take Evyn to her car. Wes didn’t watch it go, although she wanted to. Instead, she hurried to the gate, showed her ID to the officer, and made her way through the quiet halls toward her office. The night had a surreal feel to it—everything was too quiet after what seemed like a constant bombardment of emotional and physical explosions for days. She nodded to the occasional valet pushing a cart on silent wheels and to officers standing post, motionless but intently alert. Suddenly craving the norm, a refuge from the chaos of her life, she detoured at the last moment and headed to the clinic area. A middle-aged man she hadn’t met was making notes in a chart at the desk in the AOD’s office. She recognized him from his file photo. She tapped on the door. “Evening, Colonel Dunbar.”

He finished a notation, put his pen aside, and closed the file before looking up. He wore a dark blue button-down-collar shirt, a navy-and-red striped tie loosened at the neck. His expression morphed from questioning to friendly and he stood quickly. “Captain, glad to meet you finally. Sorry our paths haven’t crossed before this.”

“Good to finally meet you. Sorry for the circumstances.”

“Damn shame about Len,” he said, shaking his head. His wiry iron-gray hair was clipped military style, and his steel-blue eyes were clear and sharp. “I was on leave—my oldest daughter just got married. Couldn’t believe it when I heard the news.”

“I didn’t know him personally, but I know it’s a loss.”

He took a breath. “Well, new order of the day. Anything I can help you with?”

“I think I’ve got things in hand, but I appreciate the offer. Anything you think I need to know, problems, questions—stop by my office or call me, anytime.”

“I’ll do that.”

“I’ll let you get back to those charts.”

He gave them a morose look and sank back into the chair behind the desk. He’d already pulled the next from the stack and opened it by the time she reached the door. Halfway down the row of patient cubicles, she nearly ran into Jennifer coming out of one of the treatment rooms. Tonight she wore olive green pants, tapered and just form-fitting enough to accentuate her hips and thighs. Her shirt was cream silk and unbuttoned a tasteful distance at the throat. Her glossy dark hair was caught back at her nape with a simple gold clip. She managed to look professional and sexy at the same time. Her lips parted in a wide smile. “Captain! I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.”

“I just came in to get some paperwork done,” Wes said. “How are things going?”

“Very well. I was just restocking after our last walk-in left.” As she spoke, she brushed her fingers over Wes’s arm. “Just the usual today—seasonal illnesses, a sprained knee from a stumble on the grounds, run-of-the-mill aches and pains.”

“Sounds like a good day to me.”

She laughed. “I guess you could say that. I prefer something with a little more action.” She accentuated the last word with a squeeze to Wes’s forearm.

“How did you come by this duty, then? Somehow, I see you as a field medic.”

“Thank you.” She colored, her eyes sparkling with pleasure. “I volunteered, actually. I thought the job was an important one, and the experience of being this close to the president is a once-in-a-lifetime thing.” She moved an inch closer and her hip brushed Wes’s. “And of course, I get to work with the best medical team in the world.”

Wes leaned back, wanting to telegraph her lack of interest without insulting someone she’d be working with every day. She wasn’t put off by Jennifer’s not-too-subtle feelers—workplace assignations were common enough, even between individuals prohibited by rank. But even if she’d had a sliver of interest, she’d know better than to act on it. Yet as attractive as Jennifer was, Wes was unmoved. The memory of Evyn’s body curved into hers, of Evyn drawing her close in the dark, of Evyn devastating her with pleasure was too fresh in her consciousness. She’d just sent away the only woman who’d ever made her wish she didn’t always have to stand alone. She backed up, putting space between her and Jennifer. “It was good to see you again. I hope the rest of the night is quiet. Enjoy the holidays.”

“I’ll see you Christmas Eve.” Jennifer’s tone made it sound as if they’d run into each other at a party.

Wes frowned, calling up an image of the duty roster she’d reviewed several days before. “I thought you had leave.”

“Oh, I did,” Jennifer said dismissively. “But at the last minute my sister couldn’t get away, and she’s my only family. I’d just as soon work than spend the holiday in my apartment. I’d only end up cleaning.” She laughed. “And my apartment isn’t all that big.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear your family plans were disrupted.”

“I’m not—I saw the new roster and the substitutions. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

“I’ll let you get back to work, then,” Wes said.

“Have a nice night.”

Jennifer gave a little wave and walked away. Wes went the opposite way toward her office, mentally shaking off the disquieting sensation left by their conversation. Maybe her read was off—maybe Jennifer was just friendly and outgoing. Wes didn’t quite trust her assessment—she’d been off target for days. Apparently, she wasn’t nearly as good at interpreting personal signals as she was at evaluating trauma.

She’d ended up in bed with Evyn Daniels and still wasn’t sure how she’d let that happen. Oh sure—extreme circumstances often made people act out of character, but that was a convenient excuse and she knew it. She’d wanted to be close to Evyn and she’d enjoyed Evyn taking care of her. She’d wanted to kiss her—wanted more than that, and she’d made the first move. Evyn had put it very clearly—brief physical interludes on the job were common, and then it was back to business as usual. Maybe for Evyn that was true.

Nothing wrong with two adults sharing a few hours of pleasure and then moving on. Too bad that didn’t seem to be the case for her. Even now, she couldn’t forget the pleasure that filled her from having Evyn near, from knowing Evyn cared. She wanted to touch her again, wanted to be touched. She wanted the peace and certainty that steadied her when she thought of Evyn. She’d learned long ago not to want that kind of comfort, and Evyn had made her forget those hard lessons. Evyn scared her, and that was the real reason she was headed to her office alone.

*

At the tap on her partially closed door, Wes expected to see one of the WHMU staff. She half rose when she recognized Cameron Roberts.

“Sorry to bother you, Captain,” Cam said.

“No—please come in.” Wes walked around her desk and extended her hand. Roberts, dressed casually in gray trousers and a black sweater, entered and shut the door behind her. Her dark eyes bore the same intense focus Wes had seen in every photo of her. Remembering her from the wedding, Wes suspected the only time her gaze ever softened was when she looked at Blair Powell. A flare of envy caught her by surprise and she quickly doused it. “Wes Masters.”

“Cam Roberts. Do you have a moment?”

“Of course. Have a seat.” Wes indicated the chairs in front of her desk and sat down.

“What do you make of O’Shaughnessy’s autopsy report?” Cam asked.

Right to business. This was ground she understood, and after the upheaval on the personal front, welcome ground. She needed to get her head back where it belonged. “On the surface, there aren’t any red flags.”

“He was fifty-one. His last physical exam four months ago included a stress test. That was normal,” Cam said.

“Yes. That bothers me too.” Wes frowned. “On the surface things look straightforward. An arrhythmia, on the other hand, could account for sudden death, and there are often no precipitating signs or symptoms.”

“And no way to tell on the postmortem?”

“Exactly.”

“Could an arrhythmia be drug induced?”

“Of course—although the most effective way would be by injection, and he’d likely be aware of that. You suspect his death was a homicide?”

Cam shrugged. “I don’t like coincidences. Len’s unexpected death happening when we have a security breach is a little too convenient to ignore.”

“What would be the goal? The WHMU has other capable medical team members.”

“Could be something as simple as disrupting the flow so any move against POTUS would be handled less than efficiently.”

Wes had used much the same reasoning when she’d agreed with Evyn they shouldn’t mix business with pleasure. Considered rationally, the argument was weak. “Seems like a big risk for small gain.”

“Agreed. The more likely scenario is that Len noticed something, or suspected something. Assuming he wasn’t our leak and his contacts decided to eliminate him.”

“Do you suspect him?”

“I suspect everyone,” Cam said flatly. “Except you. But Len—not really. I’ve been running extended checks on every member of PPD, the WHMO, and the WHMU. Nothing turns up for Len other than a quiet affair with one of the nurses.”