Dark Cover (The DARK Files #2) (13 page)

Warmed and a little mesmerized, she forced her gaze away from his killer grin and the way his dove-gray suit conformed to his hard body. The natural way he wore the band-collar shirt made men in ties look fussy.
She tapped on the driver window of the Mercedes. “Grant, we’re going to take a walk along the Mall. You can pick us up at the Capitol in an hour.”

Slipping her arm into Nick’s, she savored the sage and cedar that stamped him. As they strolled up 9th Street toward the Mall, she heard Snow sputtering expletives into his radio.

“He or Simon will tear a strip off my hide later, but we’ll be safe enough. We have our guardian angels — the other car and two guys scrambling to catch up to us on foot.”

“Three guys.” He jerked a nod toward the other side of the street.

“I stand corrected.” She gave his solid forearm a pat. “You still have your Special Forces instincts.”

He scowled and clammed up, so she let the issue go. For now. She’d hit a wall in researching Nick’s misadventure in Somalia, but she wouldn’t give up.

At Jefferson Drive, Vanessa glanced left toward the Washington Monument at the far end of the Mall. Too far, so she suggested they turn right toward the Capitol Building.

Government staffers with briefcases shared the sidewalk with senior citizens in matching windbreakers and young families with baby strollers. The vendor on the next corner was tying balloon animals for laughing children.

She said, “I love the Mall. It’s so friendly and open, a living demonstration of this country.”

“Little Ms. Optimist, aren’t you?”

“I can’t help it. Guess I’m giddy from this heady chance at freedom.” She covered a yawn.

“Not giddy. Tired. Late-night sleuthing?”

“For all the good it did.” She explained about the camera dead spot behind the statue.

His brows clamped together. “Damn. We found nothing. It can’t be coincidence. The attacker must’ve scoped out the camera angles.”

“That’s my conclusion too. He visited the museum more than once in preparation. Matching the video clips with the guest list will take time.”

He ran his tongue around his teeth. “They knew we’d attend the reception. The guest list was no secret, but not public knowledge.”

“Who did you tell about the reception?”

“Janine knew, of course. Emil Alfieris and Celia Chin at the import shop.” He threw up a hand. “Hell. Any number of people knew. I made sure to mention it to business contacts during the last week.”

“No wonder Abdul Nadim wasn’t surprised to see you.”

“Neither were the other three possible buyers. Too bad Wickham didn’t see something — or someone.”

“Give me a list, and we’ll check out connections to New Dawn.” She flipped her hair off her shoulder and smiled. “Pretty smooth way you questioned him.”

“Call me Agent Smart.” His tone darkened the light words.

A block farther, at the Hirshhorn Museum, they followed the steps down to the sculpture garden. Their path took them in and out of the shade of the looming modern figures that surrounded the massive circular building.

Vanessa peered up at a gently rotating, bright blue Calder mobile. “I love how those things move. Mom always has a couple of small mobiles and some wind chimes. Seeing this one reminds me of home.”

“Your parents have room for this one in their yard?”

She laughed. “Only if we demolish the Palmeiris’ house.”

That he was enjoying a little humor with her lit a glow in her chest, but a tiny voice inside her head doused the nascent flame. It warned her not to lose her professional edge. Her throat tightened. She couldn’t let immersion in her role jeopardize the mission. Stopping New Dawn was too important.

Important to Nick too.
He squinted into the sun as he seemed to puzzle over a tubular shape labeled
Dome
.

How long since she’d scanned around them? Had she missed anything? No. Their DARK tails were still with them. No one else around them but lovers and vacationing families.
She sighed in relief and put a hand to her throat.

Her eyes popped wide, and she straightened. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She pulled the gold chain from beneath her sweater, unfastened the clasp and extended the pendant to him. “Thanks for letting me wear this last night. I did feel glamorous. Until I landed on my butt.” She gave a nervous laugh.

He hesitated, but took the necklace. “You were indeed glamorous. And courageous. Your fast reaction saved both Laura and you from serious injury.”

Heat rose to her cheeks. “Thanks. I was just doing—”

“Your job. Yes, I know.” He took her hand and headed to another part of the garden. “You’re an enigma to me. How can a beautiful and sophisticated woman like you doubt your own appeal? Just because some clueless guy once—”

“Not just one guy. Not just once.” Damn her redhead’s complexion that broadcast her every reaction. “But thanks for the compliment.”

“Are you sure you weren’t overly sensitive?”

A small boy ran by, holding aloft a toy airplane that he’d probably just bought at the Air and Space Museum. He made buzzing and whirring noises. Like the whirring in her stomach.

“You really want to know?” She laughed self-consciously.

“I’m hoping I can acquit my sex.”

Her gaze lofted to his. “Not all of your sex are as concerned with honor as you. But okay, my embarrassing secrets are yours.”

She could almost see his chest swell. Sharing a secret meant a measure of trust. Maybe he’d trust her with his.
They continued to amble around the garden, stopping to read the placards for the most interesting pieces.

“It started in junior high. Boys I’d been friends with all through elementary school would drop by to shoot a few hoops. Before we could finish a game of horse, I was benched and they were wowing Diana with jump shots.”

“Rough. Especially for the big sister.” His fingers played with curls at her temple, sending shivers across her scalp. “A tomboy should have an advantage. Knowing about guys. How they think.”

She shrugged. If only she did know how guys thought. “Maybe. Most tomboys don’t have a drop-dead-gorgeous sister.”

His expression turned wistful. “Our situations were different, but I felt shunted aside too, in favor of Alexei.”

She could picture the serious boy, hurt by indifference, working harder to get his father’s attention. The gentleness of his touch and the sadness in his eyes filled her with longing. “Alexei the charmer and Nicolas the serious one.”

“Exactly.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and took her hand. They ambled on to the next exhibit. “But we were talking about you. Teenage boys can be thoughtless and single-minded. At puberty their brains slide below their belts.”

She gave him the sweet smile and wide-eyed Kewpie-doll expression learned from Diana’s model friends. “Is that a nice way of saying their heads are up their asses?”

Nick blinked, as if he couldn’t believe his ears. His mouth twitched. His eyes crinkled. Then he laughed, a great belly laugh, and slung one arm around her shoulders. “Honey, I think that says it all.”

They sat on a bench beneath one of the building’s large pillars and watched the fountain geyser up like Old Faithful. Held in the shelter of his embrace, she felt protected and cherished. She could stay like that forever.

But all she had was this moment. A bittersweet ache coiled through her.

Way past losing detachment, she was in danger of falling in love with an impossible man. She meant to respond to his laugh with a flippant remark, but she was fresh out.

Nick ruffled her hair and kissed her temple. “Teenage boys are their own species. Fast forward to men. Tell me they have more sense.”

She sighed, reluctant to lose the intimacy of the moment. “You tell me. How about Richard? We dated for three weeks in college until I introduced him to Diana. Then I was history.”

His brows drew together in that thoughtful pleat she was coming to know. “And how did Diana handle this?”

She tamped down the twinge of jealousy his question aroused. “Diana’s not the problem. My sister and I understand each other. She always saw through those not-too-subtle ploys and cut those guys off at the knees. She had her own problems with guys treating her like a doll.” She wouldn’t mention that Diana always had ten other guys waiting in the wings.

“Just because you have a cover-girl sister doesn’t make you the perpetual best buddy. Some of us appreciate cute and freckles that look good enough to taste.”

“Thanks, Nick. That’s very sweet.”

She could give him a list, but had said enough. The guys she worked with treated her like a pal. She encouraged it since that was better than the harassment some female officers experienced.

Someday a man like Nick would fall in love with her for herself, not as a means to her gorgeous sister and not as her undercover persona. But not Nick. Never Nick. Merely thinking the words produced a sharp spasm in her heart.

His heated gaze cruised all her assets and curled her toes. He pulled her to her feet, and they continued walking.

She didn’t know quite why she’d confessed all her insecurities, but blithering on kept her from hauling him close for a mind-bending kiss — what she really wanted to do. Every nerve ending she possessed sparked with awareness.
No, no and no.
Detachment, detachment.

He pointed toward a tarpaulin-covered shape in the plaza. They’d completed the circuit of the garden surrounding the massive circular museum and were returning toward Jefferson Drive. “A new addition to the collection.”

Grateful for the change of topic, she hurried toward the indistinct lump. “Ah, this must be the pedestal for the sculpture donated by the new Yamari government.”

“Yamar again. They’re everywhere.” That pinch between his brows was back.

“Laura mentioned this sculpture last night. A Yamari artist created it to commemorate Washington’s assistance with their transition to democracy. There’s an unveiling ceremony soon, I think.”

“Bully for them. I wish they’d unveil Husam Al-Din instead.” His scowl darker than the shadows beneath the Hirshhorn’s pillars, he shot his cuff and looked at his watch. “I’ve seen enough. Snow will be waiting for us.”

She tucked her arm in his as they crossed 7th Street. “Now don’t go all stormy on me again. We were having fun. You can’t deny it. If I’m Ms. Optimist, you’re Mr. Grim.”

“If only this were a fairy tale.” He lifted her hand and kissed her fingertips. His breath across her hand ribboned warmth inside her. “You’ve lifted my spirits with your kindness and that sexy dress, and I’m grateful. But—”

The screech of tires not far behind them alerted Vanessa. She stopped, turned.

Nick spun on his heels. He tucked Vanessa behind him.

A green sedan pulled to the corner, the window open.

“Down. Now.” Vanessa yanked hard on his sleeve.

Together they dove to the ground. Nick rolled over to shield her with his body.

Three loud pops shattered the tranquil afternoon.

The sedan pulled away.

Another squeal of tires and the DARK car roared up in pursuit of the attackers.

Vanessa lay flat, half on the sidewalk and half on the adjacent grass, sheltered by Nick’s big body. Had he been hit protecting her? Fear clutched her heart. She pressed a hand to his chest. His heart raced as fast as hers. “You all right?”

“Fine. You?” His voice sounded mechanical, automatic. Special Forces soldier mode.

She pushed against him to free herself. She needed to see what was going on. An immovable cage held her fast.

“Wait,” he commanded.

Pounding feet raced to surround Nick and Vanessa — their DARK protection.

A little late.

Nick sprang to his feet and helped her up.

A scattered circle of pedestrians gaped at them.

“False alarm, folks,” said one of the officers, shooing them away. “Just a backfire. Everything’s all right.”

Farther down the street, the sedan ducked down a side street. The DARK car sped along in pursuit.

“Did you get their license?” She clicked on her mic.

“HQ’s running it now,” said another officer.

Snow pulled up beside them in the Mercedes. “Get in.”

Time to face the music. But where was Nick?

He stood apart, his back to the others, shoulders rigid. He appeared to be staring at the Capitol Building, but she’d bet his gaze focused inward.

“Nick, we have to go.”

Without looking at her, he marched to the car. Sweat dripped down his temples. As he reached for the door handle, his hand shook.

ON MONDAY MORNING, Vanessa went over the day’s schedule with Janine. Baking aromas filled the kitchen, brightening an otherwise gray day.

A bell rang, and Janine whisked to the oven to remove two browned loaves. “Banana bread.” She slid the pans onto wire racks.

At the breakfast bar, Lise and her boyfriend Ray bent over Lise’s college textbooks. Notebooks and scribbled-on sheets fanned across the counter. Ray kept his academic abilities under wraps, but Janine had said that he helped the girl with math.

“You can go about your usual routine. We shouldn’t be in your way,” Vanessa said. “Are you all set with lunch?”

Janine picked up a file card. “Grilled chicken breasts in lime marinade served on mixed greens and with fresh-baked French bread. Kiwi-peach tarts for dessert.”

“
Just after breakfast, and my mouth is watering. An upscale menu. You should have your own restaurant.”

The housekeeper’s mouth curved into a dazzling smile, and a rosy tinge highlighted her cocoa-brown cheeks.
“Oh, mademoiselle, c’est mon rêve.”

“What is your dream?” said a deep voice.

Her pulse skipped, and she turned on her heels. Nick had come soundlessly up behind them from the sunroom. How could a big man move so silently?

“Oh, it is nothing, Monsieur Nick,” Janine said, flustered. “Would you like some coffee?”

He shook his head. His damp hair gleamed like black ice, but his Mediterranean-blue eyes held warmth. The corners of his eyes crinkled. “It’s good to have a dream. A goal.”

Good. He wasn’t letting the wary housekeeper push him away this time. “Janine’s dream is to own a restaurant.” Vanessa turned to the woman. “Caribbean cuisine?”