Blair snorted. “God, what an awful liar.”
“Oh, all right,” Diane said, nudging Blair’s calf with her toe. “We all had our moments. But just look at us now. Tanner swore she never wanted the business. Never intended to settle down.” Diane shook her head “Now she’s married, to a career naval officer of all things, and you’re about to make a big public splash with a Fed.” She took Blair’s hand. “What a ride.”
Blair gave Diane an affectionate look. “And it’s not over by a long shot.”
Dana was struck once more by the clear and unself-conscious tenderness between the two women. Throw in Tanner Whitley and there had to be a great sidebar there, but the story was none of her business, and no one else’s either. She averted her gaze just in time to see Steph run her hand down the outside of Emory’s arm and briefly squeeze Emory’s hand.
“Who is she, exactly?” Dana asked before she could stop herself.
“Besides yummy, you mean?” Diane replied, her tone teasing.
Dana hoped she wasn’t glowering.
“She works for Tanner,” Blair repeated. “And she’s a friend.”
A very good friend, at least of Emory’s from the looks of it. Dana couldn’t ever really recall being jealous before. Not the way she felt right now. Like she wanted to physically put herself between Steph and Emory and make some macho statement about ownership and beat her chest like an idiot. Emory would probably think she’d lost her mind. She probably had.
“She and Emory look really good together, don’t you think?” Diane said, reaching for a bagel.
“Stop it,” Blair muttered.
Dana gritted her teeth.
“I’m sorry.” Diane laughed. “But since I’m the only one who never gets to see her girlfriend, I’m allowed to act out a little bit.”
“Where is Valerie, anyhow?” Dana asked.
“I don’t recall mentioning her name,” Diane said, suddenly serious.
“You didn’t have to.”
“You’re really good at this reporter thing, aren’t you?”
Dana grinned. “Some people think so.”
“It’s not like you’re not going to see us together,” Diane went on. “At least, I hope you will. If Cameron decides to let her out of this building sometime in the next few days.”
“Diane,” Blair said quietly.
“It’s okay,” Dana said, surprising herself. “We’re off the record here. And I already figured out that Valerie is part of the OHS team. Diane’s not giving anything away.” She put her empty coffee cup and napkin aside and leaned forward, focusing on Blair. “I understand there are certain things that need to be kept confidential—like the identities of your security people and the members of the deputy director’s team. Being around everyone like this all the time, it’s pretty easy to figure out the players. I want you to understand that I don’t have any intention of compromising them.”
“I believe you,” Blair said. “But you’re not the first reporter I’ve ever met. You have some biologic imperative to poke into things.”
Dana grinned. “You’re right. I won’t deny it.”
“And I also know that you have this obsessive need to not only inform, but to use the power of the press in the name of what you consider justice.”
“Consider? Isn’t justice immutable?”
Cam walked up behind Blair just as Dana asked the question and rested her hands on Blair’s shoulders. She leaned over the back of the couch and kissed Blair, murmured hello, then regarded Dana intently. “Not when justice depends upon the human assessment of merit, or of right and wrong.”
“Then how do we administer it?” Dana asked.
“We have laws,” Cam said. “And sometimes the course is so clear, the laws are redundant.”
Blair covered Cam’s hand and squeezed gently, but her eyes were on Dana. “You may not quote that, Dana.”
“I wasn’t going to. And for the record, I agree.” Dana stood, deciding it was time to meet Steph. “What are the plans when we get to Colorado?”
Blair brightened. “If there’s enough snow, I’m going skiing.”
“It’ll be dark,” Cam pointed out.
Blair swiveled around to kneel on the couch, draped her arms around Cam’s shoulders, and pulled her down into a serious kiss. “There will be moonlight. You can do anything by moonlight.”
Diane sighed. “Should I remind you that some of us are going to be solo for at least another day?”
“I’m sorry,” Cam said apologetically. “She should be able to follow us tomorrow.”
“If she doesn’t,” Diane said, poking Cam’s shoulder vigorously, “I’m going to hound you until she arrives. You haven’t experienced misery until you’ve been around me when I’m unrequited for too long.”
Cam grinned. “I wasn’t aware that ever happened.”
“Now can I quote you?” Dana asked.
Laughing, Diane looped her arm through Dana’s and bent her head close. “I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you stand in for Valerie until she arrives at the resort. I hate being without an escort.”
“You’re going to have to define stand in,” Dana said playfully.
“That’s something I’ll have to think about.” Diane frowned. “And that’s certainly new.”
Dana managed to avoid being captured in the hypnotic seductiveness of Diane’s sultry gaze, only to realize Emory was standing a few feet away watching them. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Emory said with just the slightest bit of chill in her voice. “Have I missed out on plans for a party?”
“Not my idea of a party,” Diane said wryly. “Blair is going skiing later.”
“Good,” Emory said. “I hope they’ve got plenty of extra gear at the lodge, because I’m going to join her.”
“I think everyone has lost their minds,” Diane said. “I for one intend to sit before the fire with a glass of wine and think about absolutely nothing at all.”
“Do you ski, Dana?” Emory asked.
“I do, but I have a feeling I’m going to be outclassed by everyone here.”
“Well then you can join me by the fire.” Diane smiled mischievously. “Adding logs and whatnot to make sure we stay warm.”
“Thanks,” Dana said, “but if Emory doesn’t mind company, I just might try the slopes.”
“Company would be nice,” Emory said softly.
“Good, then it’s a date,” Dana replied, fervently hoping that would be true.
The colonel handed the binoculars to Matheson, who lay beside him in the snow on the side of a mountain in Colorado. A huge timber lodge and smaller cabins lay in a cleared area of forest a quarter mile below them. “The main lodge, the individual cabins, and the ski lift are in rifle range from here. The SSM is another alternative.” He turned and indicated one of several narrow, overgrown trails that ribboned through the snow-laden woods below them. “With snowmobiles we can traverse down the other side of the mountain to our vehicles and onto the interstate in under ten minutes.”
“And you’ve prepared the rendezvous point for emergency evac?” Matheson asked, accepting the binoculars.
“The vehicles are ready and waiting. The weapons too. All well camouflaged.”
“You’re sure no one noticed your reconnaissance?”
“The nearest village is six miles away, and it’s ski season. Lots of tourists. Plus, reporters are beginning to arrive in town. A few have already been up here trying to get an advance story from the innkeeper. No one paid any attention to me.” The colonel shrugged. “I’ve seen Secret Service people at the lodge, but they can’t cover the whole mountainside. With all the trails and heavy tree cover, even aerial recon is difficult. I imagine they’ll keep her under close protection when she’s outside.”
“I’m glad she likes to ski.” Matheson studied the idyllic, rustic scene below them, imagining Blair Powell stepping out onto the wide front porch of the chalet in the morning sun and directly into his gun sights. So easy. So beautiful.
He sighed. Taking her alive would be so much more difficult, and he wasn’t at all certain that the pleasure would be as intense. For now, he would keep his options open. After all, his friends were not the ones in charge, and never would be. This was his country.
Chapter Twenty
Late Sunday Night Colorado
Emory turned at the sound of footsteps on the porch behind her and smiled as Dana approached. “How did the interview go?”
“Amazing.” Dana joined Emory at the railing of the wide deck that fronted the ski lodge. At just after nine, the moon was high and partially shrouded in clouds. The only illumination came from the windows behind them and the glow of the huge fire burning in the stone hearth in the common room. Shadows danced across Emory’s face. Despite the near zero temperature, Dana found the crystal-clear mountain air invigorating. She felt alive in a way she hadn’t in years. She wondered when she had stopped feeling, when she had replaced emotion with activity. She couldn’t pinpoint just when she had abandoned the idea of a relationship and substituted danger for desire. But she knew the exact moment when all that had changed. It had happened that day in the hotel when Emory heard she was a reporter and her expression had gone from open welcome to closed reserve. Emory’s withdrawal had been like a door slamming shut on her heart, and she’d immediately wanted to wrench it open again. She’d spent every moment since trying. “Besides being a world-renowned artist, Marcea Cassels is an incredible woman.”
“You’ve hit the jackpot in terms of stumbling upon newsworthy people,” Emory commented.
Dana searched her face for signs of criticism, but didn’t find any. She realized then that Emory didn’t consider herself one of those remarkable people. She hesitated, then said, “My editor sent me here with orders to interview you too.”
“I gathered that much from the questions you were asking the other day at the coffee shop.”
“How do you feel about it?”
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