Sweet Caroline's Keeper (15 page)

Caroline withdrew from Wolfe, just enough to put a foot of space between her body and his. She looked at him, but he avoided making eye contact with her. She had found his profession as a bodyguard upsetting, knowing it was fraught with violence. But now she had just learned that his former profession had involved violence on a grand scale and at an international level. There was no telling what he had been required to do as an agent for the CIA.

"Well, it's good to know that our dear Caroline is in such capable hands," Eileen said. "Now, let's put all this aside for the time being and see if we can't have an enjoyable evening."

Caroline stood rigidly, her spine stiff, her chin lifted. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears. She forced a smile and waited until Eileen and Oliver moved on to other guests and Mr. Penn had gone in search of his assistant. She had one question to ask Wolfe about a matter far more personal than anything to do with his former profession.

Caroline confronted him. "Why didn't you tell me that your name is David?"

Chapter 12

Wolfe
'
s gut tightened painfully. Hell, why hadn't he told her his name was David? By not telling her, he'd made concealing it a big deal and given her reason to be suspicious. What if she asked him if he were
her David,
her mysterious benefactor? Don't be ridiculous, he told himself. Why should she think he was that David? She had no reason to connect him with the man who had watched over her and provided for her after Preston Shaw's death. His guilty conscience had made that giant leap, but Caroline's mind wouldn't.

"No one calls me David," he replied. "My clients, my associates and my acquaintances call me Wolfe."

"I understand," she said. "But that still doesn't explain why you purposefully neglected to mention that your given name is David."

"It wasn't purposeful," he told her, then when he saw the skepticism in her eyes, he amended his statement.
"
At least not at first. Then when you told me about your benefactor and what he meant to you and . . .things happened between us. . ." He lowered his voice to a mere whisper. "I didn't want you getting me and this other David mixed up in your mind and reacting to me because of the way you felt about him.''

Caroline didn't say anything, she simply stared at him for several minutes, as if judging the sincerity of his words. Finally she slipped her arm through his and said, "I've changed my mind. I think I'd like to stay a while longer and maybe eat a bite. Why don't we take a look at the buffet? I'm sure we'll both find something we like. Eileen uses only the best caterers and always has a marvelous variety."

Was that it? he wondered. Had Caroline finished interrogating him? Had his explanation actually satisfied her? If so, he was thankful. But a niggling little doubt chipped away inside his head and that bothered him. She had definitely let the matter drop too easily. So that meant something else was going on in Caroline's mind. But what?

Two hours later, without any more incidents with drunken Lotharios and no other personal revelations, Wolfe escorted Caroline back to the waiting Mercedes. He'd never been so glad to leave a party in his life. Jack Parker, who had been, as he always was, a big hit with everyone—especially the ladies—said his good-nights and followed them outside, without anyone being aware of the fact that he was the rear guard. Jack was smooth. The best of the best. After the three of them were safely ensconced in the car, Matt exited the circular drive. Within no time they were traveling on the Interstate 495 loop that circled D.C. and the
oudying
cities, heading toward the Annapolis exit.

After what seemed like an endless silence. Jack, who sat in the front seat with Matt, turned around and smiled. "That turned out to be fairly harmless, didn't it? Other than Wolfe capturing the kissing bandit, everything went off without a hitch."

"The kissing bandit?" Matt asked. "Some drunk took an instant liking to Miss Caroline and thought he'd steal a kiss," Jack explained.

"So that was the guy I saw you escorting outside." Matt chuckled. "I'm surprised Wolfe didn't shoot him. You did know that our Wolfe is an expert marksman, didn't you, Ms. McGuire?"

"Yes," Caroline said quietly. "I believe Fletch mentioned that being an expert with guns was one of Mr. Wolfe's credentials."

"We were lucky," Wolfe said, deliberately changing the subject. "Things could just as easily have gone the other way."

"I'm glad Matt and I were both free to come in and help you tonight," Jack said. "It just so happened that we'd both come off our last assignments when you called Ellen and asked for a couple of agents. Sure am happy I got to meet you, Miss Caroline. As a matter of fact, if you get tired of having a bodyguard as solemn and serious as Wolfe, then I'd be more than happy to—"

"Cut the crap, Parker," Wolfe said brusquely.

Jack rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, his expression saying,
Uh-oh, what's up with him?

Matt cleared his throat and glanced in the interior rearview mirror to steal a quick glimpse of the back seat's occupants.

Caroline giggled. "You'll have to excuse him. I've found that your David Wolfe is rather proprietary about me. Is he that way about all his clients?"

"David?" Matt glanced in the rearview mirror again, and when he made eye contact with Wolfe, he returned his focus to the road, pronto.

"Yeah, Matt, didn't you know that Wolfe actually has a given name?" Jack chuckled. "And Miss Caroline, I think Wolfe. . .can be forgiven for being proprietary where you're concerned. It'd be hard for a man not to be."

"
Dammit
, Parker, I thought I told you to—"

"So, Jack, what time is our flight out in the morning?" Matt asked.

"Nine-thirty," Jack said.

"I'll need y'all to cancel and take a later flight, possibly even stay over another day," Wolfe said. "I have a nine o'clock appointment in the morning with the president of Peacekeepers International. He's given me permission to go through all of Preston Shaw's old files to see if I can come up with any information that might help us."

"How did you manage that?" Matt asked. "I'd have thought those files were confidential."

"Boy, don't you know by now that the Dundee agency has a way of getting a look at whatever files they need to see?" Jack said. "It seems Sam Dundee's got connections with every government agency in the U.S., as well as organizations like the Peacekeepers."

"Wolfe didn't go through the Dundee agency," Caroline said. "He met Mr. Penn tonight and simply asked to see the files."

Jack and Matt said "Hmmm-
mmm
" simultaneously.

"While I'm in D.C. tomorrow morning, I want you two to stay at Caroline's studio with her," Wolfe said. "And you might as well wait until day after tomorrow to leave."

"Sure thing," Jack replied. ' 'When you drop us off at the motel tonight, I'll cancel our morning flight to Atlanta and book us for something day after tomorrow. That is if you're sure you won't need us to hang around longer than that, just in case Miss Caroline wants to attend another fancy shindig."

"Your services won't be needed after tomorrow." Wolfe's voice lowered to a feral growl.

Gavin Robbins left Roz with the pudgy, bug-eyed federal judge who seemed smitten with her, despite the fact that Roz was young enough to be his granddaughter. But Roz didn't seem to mind. The silly woman was dazzled by all the important people she'd met here tonight. She'd probably be so grateful later that she would invite him to spend the night with her. Why else would he bother with a no-class, air-headed bimbo like Roz Turner, except for the sex? What he
needed for a lifetime mate was a class act like Brooke Harper, a woman with brains and looks who was the heiress to a fortune. Unfortunately Fletcher Shaw had beat him to the punch there, but since his promotion at Peacekeepers, he'd been receiving more and more invitations to all the right parties. It was only a matter of time until he snagged himself a rich wife. He'd thought Caroline McGuire might be Ms ticket to respectability and the power he longed for, but they had been all wrong for each other. That ice queen needed to find herself a man like her cousin Lyle, somebody as harmless as a fly. Caroline wouldn't know what to do with a real man if she fell over one in the dark.

While the judge kept Roz entertained, Gavin decided to take the opportunity to say hello to Ms host and hostess, something he didn't want to do with Roz on Ms arm. He spotted Oliver Harper in the adjoining room, talking and laughing with General Bishop and Senator Howard.

"Gavin," a male voice behind him called.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw Ellison Penn's flunky, Barry
Vanderpool
, motioning to him. Ellison thought Barry was something special just because he'd graduated from one of those Ivy League schools and could speak half a dozen foreign languages. Well, Barry could enjoy being the big man's favorite while Perm held the top position at Peacekeepers. But sooner or later the old man would either die or retire, and when that day came, Gavin intended to take over. Then he'd
sMp
Barry off somewhere overseas, never to return to D.C., and promote Mike Latham, his own hand-picked man.

"What's up, Barry, my man?"

"I wanted to speak to you about something that concerns me, however. . ." Barry glanced nervously around, as if checking for eavesdroppers.
"
You know how highly I think of Mr. Penn."

"Yeah, sure, he's like a father to you."

"I wouldn't go that far, but yes, I do admire and respect
him greatly, as you know my father did when he worked with Mr. Penn."

"Does this story have a point,
Vanderpool
? If it does, how about getting to it."

"My first allegiance is to Peacekeepers International. That's the only reason I'm mentioning this to you." Barry took a deep breath. "Mr. Penn told me that first thing in the morning I'm to put together all of Preston Shaw's files and search the computer system for anything that might be stored there."

Gavin knew that he was one of a handful of Peacekeepers agents who knew the truth about Preston Shaw's betrayal and about why he was killed and by whom. Was Ellison afraid that something in Preston's files might have been overlooked when they'd gone through them nearly fifteen years ago? Did he just want to make sure that nothing showed up now—that nothing came back to bite them in the butt?

"This thing with Caroline McGuire has gotten old Ellison curious, is that it?" Gavin asked. "Or did he seem unduly concerned about something in particular?"

"You don't understand," Barry said. "Mr. Penn asked for those files because he intends to allow Mr. Wolfe, Caroline McGuire's bodyguard, to go through them to see if he can find anything that will help him in his investigation. I must tell you, Gavin, that I find Mr. Perm's willingness to allow a
civilian
to view classified documents highly irregular."

Gavin nodded. "Yeah. Highly irregular." What was that wily old fox up to? Gavin wondered. Who had persuaded Ellison to give Wolfe a look at the files? Oliver Harper, maybe? Who else with that much power would be interested in Caroline? Surely Ellison planned to check the files himself before he allowed Wolfe to see them. Or was there something else going on? Just exactly who was this Mr. Wolfe? Was it possible that Ellison knew the man? Whatever was going on, he intended to find out. After all, his own future could very well depend on it.

Gavin grabbed Barry's hand and shook it soundly. "Thanks. You did the right thing coming to me. I'll talk to Ellison and find out what's going on. No need for you to worry."

No need for anybody to worry about anything. Gavin smiled. If Ellison Penn was keeping secrets—or giving away secrets—then he intended to catch the man in the act. Best way to find out what you need to know is try the direct approach first. Go straight to the horse's mouth.

When Gavin found Ellison Penn, he was deep in conversation with their hostess, a strikingly attractive woman, for someone of her age. But then Brooke's mama had probably gone under the plastic surgeon's knife more than once. Half the old biddies here tonight had gotten everything on their faces and bodies lifted, tucked or suctioned.

Ellison saw him approaching and gave him a don't-bother-me glare, but Gavin ignored the warning. As Gavin
neared
him, Ellison disengaged himself from the charming Mrs. Harper and headed Gavin off before he reached their hostess.

"What do you want, Robbins?" Ellison asked.

"I hear you're making Peacekeepers International files open to the public."

"You heard wrong," Ellison said.

"So Caroline McGuire's bodyguard won't be given access to all of Preston Shaw's old files?"

"Allowing Mr. Wolfe access to those files does not constitute opening them to the public."

"Does Mr. Wolfe have a top-priority clearance?" Gavin demanded.

Ellison hesitated. His square jaw tightened. Gavin would give a million bucks for a two-minute glimpse into the old man's steel-trap mind right now.

"As a matter of fact he does," Ellison said, with a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Just between us, Robbins, I've checked out Mr. Wolfe thoroughly. And I've seen a rather interesting personal file on him. He's former CIA."