So he could take the money she offered him for providing a contact and that would be the end of it. He’d never see her again. He’d be ten grand richer. Russo would be unhappy that he couldn’t retrieve the $250,000, but that had been a gamble and not his decision to begin with. But two hundred thousand plus was hard to walk away from.

If he couldn’t intimidate her into telling him where it was, he had to blackmail her. He didn’t know her real name, and he couldn’t implicate her in the failed attack on the president without putting his own head in the noose. So what mattered to her? She definitely had plans—what he couldn’t tell, but if she was after explosives, she wanted to make a big statement. A threat to expose her might do the trick, especially if she was as fanatical as Graves and the rest of that bunch.

He pulled into the all-night diner with its sorry dented metal façade and empty parking lot and sat with the motor running to keep warm. Two pickup trucks were the only other vehicles. She wasn’t there yet, but he bet she’d be early too.

She was definitely her father’s daughter, he’d bet money on it. He laughed. He was doing just that.

*

Blair’s limo pulled across the tarmac toward Air Force One where a ring of Secret Service agents formed the inner perimeter, assuring that no unauthorized personnel approached the presidential plane. The backup Boeing 747 idled a few hundred yards down the runway in front of the third jet that would carry press and staff who could not be accommodated aboard Air Force One.

Blair glanced at Cam. “Are you ready?”

“You mean to play first daughter-in-law?” Cam grinned. “Can’t wait.”

Blair laughed and kissed her. “I know you hate it. I’m sorry. We’ll keep you out of the spotlight as much as we possibly can.”

“Don’t worry about me.” Cam kissed her as agents jumped out of the follow car and descended upon them. “I’m always happy at your side.”

“I love you,” Blair murmured just as Stark opened the door.

Cam followed Blair out as the rest of the detail closed in and they crossed toward the stairs at the front of the plane where the presidential suite was located. The rear doors led into the press section. Blair settled in the lounge area adjoining her father’s private quarters to wait for him. Lucinda would arrive with him, along with the president’s physician and the military aide who carried the briefcase with the nuclear codes.

“I imagine we’ll be reviewing his remarks,” Blair said.

Cam kissed her. “I’m going to talk to Stark for a while. I’m sure there will be schedule changes once Lucinda boards.”

“Undoubtedly.”

Cam made her way toward the rear of the forward section, nodding to the PPD shift agents and Blair’s detail. She settled into a seat next to Stark. “Anything new in the morning briefing?”

Stark shook her head. “No.”

Cam watched Blair rise to give her father a hug. The president looked rested and eager to start his first major offensive of his reelection campaign. Eight days on the road. “Sometimes the quiet bothers me more than anything else.”

“Me too.”

*

Viv never got over the excitement of flying on Air Force One. Climbing aboard the most elite aircraft in the world with the president of the United States was one of the premier perks of being part of the White House press pool. She never said it out loud, but every trip thrilled her. Of course, being a witness to history in the making was the greatest honor of all, and every time she boarded Air Force One she was humbled. The thrill was there today, just like always, but as she lined up with her colleagues for coffee and pastries at the small minibar in the rear of the press section, she couldn’t totally keep her mind on business.

I’m off shift at four.

She almost couldn’t believe she’d texted Dusty at oh-dark-thirty. That was so unlike her! She’d never been one to pursue a woman, not that she had anything against it, it was just that she’d never actually met anyone she’d wanted or needed to pursue. Most of the time an invitation would pop up seemingly out of nowhere for dinner or a show or some other kind of date when she hadn’t really been thinking about it—or the woman in question. She’d usually be pleased by the invitation and most of the time happy to accept. She wasn’t passive when it came to women, she just wasn’t looking.

She hadn’t been looking yesterday, either. But she couldn’t help but notice. Dusty was hard not to notice. Not just the way she looked, which was hot and sexy and even more so because she clearly didn’t have a clue just how hot and sexy she was. More than that, she was a mystery, not dark and foreboding and alienating, but captivating, like the glimmer of something beautiful encased in amber. Viv wanted to crack the smooth shell and free the secret.

“This ought to be fun, huh?” Brad Cooper, every inch the tall, dark, and handsome cliché with eyes so blue they ought to be outlawed, smiled at her sardonically. His tone said he thought the trip would be anything but a good time.

“Oh, hi, Brad.” Viv reluctantly deserted her musings about Dusty to be polite. Brad was one of the guys who treated her as a colleague and nothing more, for which she was thankful. She knew there were plenty of other females, attached and unattached, who were interested in catching his attention. Maybe that was why he enjoyed her company. He’d been on the beat a few years longer than her and been one of the more helpful reporters when she’d first joined. While everyone feigned collegiality on the surface, they were all competing for the best angle on the same story. After all, they were all being given the same sound bites from the presidential press office, they were all witnessing the same events, they were all reporting on the same timetable. What it had taken her some time to learn was that they were all secretly working their inside sources, hoping to get a jump on everyone else. She had yet to develop much leverage in that area, partly because of the nature of most of her features, but mostly because it just wasn’t her style.

“I’ve never been on a long train ride,” she said with a laugh. “I suspect it’s going to be…interesting.”

“I suspect after the first night trying to sleep in a bed two feet wide you’ll change your mind.”

“It’s a brilliant media move, though, don’t you think?” She waited for him to get his coffee and they sat together. “It will appeal to the public—this grassroots kind of campaign.”

He nodded. “He could use a bit of a down-home, common-man image, if he can pull it off.”

She was surprised by the flatness in his tone, but then reminded herself that as much as the press sought neutrality, reporters were still individuals, and not everyone was in Powell’s camp. She found Andrew Powell to be an energetic, intelligent, and fair president, but that wasn’t why she was here.

“I’d prefer a train ride here in the States than an overseas trip anytime,” she said, steering away from a flammable topic.

“I agree with you.” He laughed. “At least the food will be recognizable.”

She smiled, sipped her coffee, and thought that eight days on a train with Dusty Nash sounded like a very fine idea.

Chapter Eleven

0530. The sun wouldn’t be up for another hour and a half. By then she’d be ninety miles away, and this town, these mountains, the past wouldn’t even be a memory. She’d learned to erase memories that served only to weaken her with longing and loss. All she’d take with her from this place would be anger and determination, and the sound of her father’s voice calling her to action. Jane pulled in next to Hooker’s black pickup truck, left the engine running, and signaled for him to join her in the Jeep. He frowned but, after a few seconds, climbed out of his truck and slid into the passenger seat.

“Do you have the information?” Jane asked.

“Yeah,” Hooker said. “But there’s a problem.”

His eyes drifted down to her hand in the pocket of her cargo coat. If he made the assumption she had an automatic pointed at his midsection, he’d be right. “What kind of problem?”

“My contact has to bring in a supplier, and they won’t deliver unless it’s face-to-face.”

“I don’t have a problem with that, as long as I set the meeting place,” Jane said.

“That’s the problem. They don’t know you. But they know me.”

Jane laughed. “Are you suggesting I take you along?”

Hooker grinned, his dark eyes glittering like a fox scanning a henhouse. “That would be the idea.”

“No deal. I don’t plan on spending the next four days worried about you trying to kill me in my sleep.”

“Look, I’m no killer.” At her stare, he shrugged. “I’m no cold-blooded killer, let’s put it that way. If somebody comes after me, sure I’m going to defend myself. Besides, think about it. You know who I am, and that’s a big risk. If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it already.”

“Then we share that much.” Jane didn’t trust him, but trust was not the issue. Expedience was. Jennifer might not have much more time. And she might never have another chance. She had something Hooker wanted, but he posed a threat. “No deal.”

“If you take me with you, I can spell you driving and you’ll get there quicker. The buy will go down without a problem, and then we’ll part ways.”

“What about your boss?”

Hooker grunted. “I’m independent.”

Translated as he had no loyalty to anyone but himself. That was in her favor. She wasn’t looking for a partner. “How much?”

“Another fifty thousand.”

Jane laughed. “Another twenty-five.”

“Forty.”

“Thirty.”

He studied her and seemed to realize she wasn’t going to bargain anymore and nodded. “You’ll find I’m a pretty handy guide.”