Sweet Caroline's Keeper (16 page)

Heat crept up the back of Gavin's neck and suffused his face. Damn! He should have known it would be something like this. Wolfe was former CIA, was he? Gavin found that fact very interesting. Interesting enough to do a little checking of his own. And soon.

Caroline placed her shoes on the rack, then unzipped her dress and removed it. Just as she hung the black silk creation on a pink satin padded hanger, she heard a soft rap on the outer door to her bedroom. Without looking, she knew it was Wolfe. Who else would it be but David Wolfe?

She had known several men named David over the years, and other than the fact that the name itself held a special meaning for her, none of those other
Davids
had meant any more to her than guys named John or Jim or Tom. But David Wolfe was different. From the moment she saw him standing at her front door, she had felt an odd sense of recognition, as if she already knew him. Of course that wasn't possible. She'd never met the man before in her life. But that feeling wouldn't leave her, no matter how hard she tried to reason it away. On a purely emotional level, her body and her heart had immediately responded to him.

There was no way on earth he could be her David. The very idea was ludicrous. So, why did it matter so much to her that his name was David? Why was she so upset that he had deliberately not told her his given name? Dope, she chided herself. He didn't tell you because of this very reason—because he knew you would put too much emphasis on the name. Even before you knew his name, you were practically trying to seduce him. And failing miserably, she reminded herself. Being a femme fatale was not her forte. She had never seduced a man. . .had never wanted to seduce a man.

Another knock, louder and a bit more forceful, brought

Caroline's wayward thoughts into focus. She grabbed a lavender silk robe off a hanger and put it on over her black bra and half-slip, then walked out of the huge closet. Wolfe stood on the threshold, leaning against the door frame. He had removed his tuxedo jacket and bow tie, undone the top three buttons on his white shirt and taken off his glasses. How was it possible for one man to look so good? she wondered. Large and lean and devastatingly male. With just enough muscles, just enough body hair, just the right amount of self-assurance without coming across as cocky.

"Is there something you want?" she asked, trying her level best to sound cool, in control and totally unemotional.

He looked her over, from head to toe, his gaze pausing a couple of times. Once on her face and then at her breasts, which swelled over the top of her low-cut, black lace bra. Feeling as if he had stripped her naked, Caroline pulled the lapels of her thin robe together and ran her hand around to the back of her waist, searching for the tie belt. When she realized it wasn't there, she simply held the lapels together with one hand.

He lifted his gaze to her face again. "Unless I find something in your stepfather's Peacekeepers files to give us a clue or we can figure out where else to look, I'd say the odds of our finding the object your key opens aren't very good. The Dundee lab hasn't been able to definitely identify the key from the photos we sent."

"And your point is?" She stayed where she was, keeping the width of her bedroom between them. Having learned the hard way how dangerous it was to get too close to an open flame, she had no intention of being burned by the same fire a second time. And for her, David Wolfe was definitely a blazing inferno.

"I suggest that you give it one more week and if nothing shows up, you—''

"I'm not giving up!"

"As long as you have that damn key in your possession, your life will remain in danger." Wolfe stepped over the threshold. "All I'm suggesting is that you take yourself out of the equation. Give me the key and let me continue the search on my own, until I've exhausted every possibility."

"I thought you just implied that after looking through Preston's Peacekeepers files tomorrow we will have exhausted all known possibilities." She couldn't—wouldn't—let anyone have the key. And she had no intention of stopping the search. Not until she was convinced that it was a hopeless cause.

"Caroline, please be reasonable." He took several steps toward her, then stopped in the middle of her bedroom. "It's only a matter of time before another attempt is made on your life. Is finding the object that your key unlocks worth risking your life?"

She lifted the chain around her neck enough so that she could grasp the key. "This key will unlock the identity of the person who killed Preston and the reason he murdered him. I owe it to my stepfather to see that his killer is brought to justice."

"Damn!" Wolfe stormed across the room, grabbed her shoulders and shook her soundly. "It's clear from the way he was killed that Preston Shaw was executed. That probably means the man who killed him was simply following orders. He was simply a tool, just as the gun was, in Shaw's killing. The man who pulled the trigger on that gun is unimportant. There is no point in your tormenting yourself this way when you will never know the identity of that man."

Caroline's pulse raced, her heart beat wildly. She looked into David Wolfe's eyes—no longer cold, but deadly hot— and shivered with a combination of fear and longing. "How. . .do. . .you know? How can you be so sure? And you're wrong about his identity not being important. Even if he was only a trained assassin—"

Wolfe tightened his hold on her shoulders. "You have to let this go. If we don't unearth something in another week, I want you to give me the key."

When she opened her mouth to protest, he lifted his hand from her right shoulder and placed his index finger over her lips. "What if I promise to find your David, a man who knew your stepfather, and give him the key? Would you trust him to do everything in his power to solve the mystery?"

She stared at him, dazed by his question. "Do you think you could do that, find David—
my David?"

"If it's the only way to get you out of danger, then yes, I'll find your David for you. He will probably refuse to meet with you, to allow you to know who he is, but my guess is that he will want to do whatever is necessary to help you."

"All right," she said. "We will give it another week, from tomorrow. And if by that time we still haven't found whatever the key unlocks, then you find my David."

"And you'll let me give him the key."

"Find him first and then I'll decide."

His hands skimmed down, over her arms, across her elbows and to her wrists, which he manacled in his tight grasp. "You shouldn't waste your life waiting for a man who's never going to be able to give you what you want and need. You have to stop fantasizing about this mysterious David of yours."

"You couldn't possibly understand what it's been like for me." Try as she might, she could not break eye contact with David Wolfe. She felt as if he held her spellbound.
"
To have someone in your life who has somehow become a part of you and yet you can never see him, never touch him, never talk to him. This man whom you say can never give me what I want and need has spent the past fourteen years doing just that. Don't you understand at all? David has been giving me what I needed, everything I needed, since I was twelve years old.

"The money for the best psychiatrist in the South. Money for nice clothes and piano lessons and swimming lessons and
school trips. He paid for my senior trip. He put me through college. He arranged for my first job with the photographer in Richmond and he saw to it that I got a bank loan when I opened my own studio. He doesn't know that. I'm aware of everything he's done for me, but
I
am. When Aunt Dixie died, she left me a letter explaining everything that David had done for me."

Dixie Jennings had broken the promise she had made to him. No, actually, she hadn't. She had said in their one telephone conversation, "I vow that as long as I live, I'll never tell Caroline how generous you've been to her." Apparently, she had not kept that truth hidden after her death.

"All right, so he was a man who took care of an old acquaintance's child. Good for him. But you're a woman now. A successful woman who doesn't need a keeper. You need a man who can love you and marry you and give you children. Your David can never be that man!"

"How can you be so sure?" Tears collected in her eyes, swimming over the surface.

"Because I'm a man." His fingertip brushed across her upper lip as his thumb cradled her chin. "Believe me, if your David could come to you and claim you for his own, he would have done it already. He can't come to you. Not now or ever."

Wolfe released her abruptly. "But just because he can't be a part of your life doesn't mean he won't help you in any way he can."

Odd, Caroline thought, the way Wolfe spoke of a man he didn't know. But his words hadn't been a revelation to her. In her heart of hearts she already knew the truth—her David could never be a part of her life.

"Even though I understand that what you say is true, I'm not quite prepared to give up my fantasy," she said.

He nodded, a sad look in his eyes as he gazed at her. "Just don't hang on to that fantasy too long, sweet Caroline, and let life pass you by." He turned and walked out of her room.

She waited, her breath caught in her throat, until he disappeared across the hall, then she rushed toward her bed, threw herself across it and let the tears fall. The cards that her David attached to her birthday and Christmas presents always read
My sweet Caroline.
Why of all the endearments in the world had David Wolfe chosen to use that one? Her heart was breaking into a million pieces and no one could help her, no one could heal her. Neither of her
Davids
. Neither of her guardian angels.

Chapter 13

Wolfe
arrived at the Peacekeepers International building in Washington, D.C., at precisely ten minutes till nine and was passed through the security check on the ground level. He had left his Sig Sauer in the car. As the lone occupant of the private elevator to the top floor, which housed the president and vice president's suite of offices, he had a few minutes to prepare himself. It had been nearly three years since he'd been in this building, since Aidan Colbert had reported to Ellison Penn. He reminded himself that he must act as if, before today, he'd never been in this building or the suite of offices with which he was so familiar.

When the elevator doors opened, Barry
Vanderpool
, the boy wonder at Peacekeepers, was standing there like a sentinel. The twenty-four-year-old had piercing black eyes, shortly cropped auburn hair and a lean, hard body that was obvious despite the cover of a business suit.

"Good morning, Mr. Wolfe."

Barry possessed a military stance and carried himself like a trained soldier. Wolfe halfway expected the man to salute him.

Wolfe nodded. "Good morning, Mr.
Vanderpool
."

"Mr. Penn is expecting you. If you will follow me, please."

As the highly efficient Barry escorted Wolfe down the hall, Gavin Robbins emerged from his office, coffee cup in hand. Barry paused and nodded to Gavin.

"I hope Ellison's secretary is giving you the red-carpet treatment," Gavin said as he followed them down the hall. "We here at Peacekeepers like to maintain a good working relationship with all the federal agencies, especially you CIA boys."

"Former CIA," Wolfe said. "I'm retired."

"Retired kind of young, didn't you?" Gavin asked.

Wolfe paused and glared at Gavin, but didn't respond to his question. Instead he continued walking, which prompted Barry to do the same. Wolfe sensed rather than saw Gavin stop and stare at his back. Barry knocked on the closed door to his superior's inner sanctum.

"Come in." Ellison's voice rang out clearly.

Barry opened the door, stepped back and indicated with a wave of his hand that Wolfe was to enter. Wolfe glanced across the room to where Ellison rose from his desk. When they met in the middle of the office, they shook hands, then Ellison closed the door.

"I have all of Preston Shaw's files on the table over there." He indicated with a nod. "I had Barry set things up for you this morning." He pointed to the portable table, stacked with file folders, computer disks and an assortment of boxes. "As you know, Preston was with Peacekeepers for a good many years."

"Is there anything on that table that we didn't go over with a fine-tooth comb nearly fifteen years ago?" Wolfe asked.

"You know there isn't," Ellison replied. "So, want to tell me what this is all about, why you made such a production of requesting to see Preston's files?"

"Two reasons. First, it gave me a front for meeting with you without anyone asking questions. And second, I want to know exactly what you've been concealing about Preston Shaw. And don't try to tell me that you have no idea what I'm talking about."

"You already know that we suspected Shaw of being involved with a secret organization of men who had a long-range plan to gain control of the government, partially by gradually putting their people in place in Congress and top-ranking government positions. Hell, they even infiltrated Peacekeepers International by recruiting Preston."

"As you say, I already know all of this. What don't I know?"

"The proof we were given that Preston was the man who assassinated Senator Harwell might have been falsified."

Wolfe suddenly felt cold, then went momentarily numb. As if something was draining the blood from his body. He stared at Ellison, his mind screaming accusations, but all he said was "Are you telling me that I was given orders to execute an innocent man?"

"What I'm telling you is that there is a possibility the Loyalists Coalition wanted to get rid of Preston and planned to use us as the means by which to achieve that end, then changed their minds when they realized he had damning evidence against them. But somehow. . . by mistake, the information was sent to us, anyway. It doesn't mean that Preston didn't kill Senator Harwell."

Wolfe closed his eyes momentarily, the impact of this new information dropping like a lead weight into his stomach. God in heaven, was it possible that Preston Shaw had been innocent? If that were true, how could he ever justify what he'd done? "If there's any possibility that Preston Shaw was an innocent man—"

"You're thinking about Caroline, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"
Dammit
, man, if the truth comes out, you can't protect that girl." Ellison clamped his hand down on Wolfe's shoulder. "Believe me, Preston Shaw was guilty. Even if he didn't actually pull the trigger, he was part of the assassination plot Once you find the evidence Preston hid away, there's a good chance we can blow the Loyalists Coalition sky-high and arrest their top men. When that happens, Caroline will learn the truth about her stepfather. There's no way to avoid it."

"She will be devastated," Wolfe said. "But it may never come to that. I'm beginning to have my doubts that if there is any such evidence, we'll ever find it. But regardless, I want Caroline taken out of the line of fire."

"And how do you intend to do that?" Ellison released his hold on Wolfe's shoulder and stared at him quizzically.

"She has agreed that if within a week's time we haven't found the object the key opens, she'll consider turning the key over to someone else and allow him to continue the search."

"Who?"

"The man she knows only as David. I've promised her that I'd find this man for her."

"Have you lost your mind? How the hell do you intend to find yourself? You can hardly present yourself to Caroline and tell her that you're the man who has acted as her benefactor all these years."

"I have no intention of introducing Caroline to
her
David. But if I can persuade her that he has been found and is willing to continue this search, in order to free her from danger, then we'll all get what we want. Caroline will be safe. And I can continue the search for the evidence against the Loyalists Coalition."

"You realize this plan of yours will work only if Caroline is convinced that her David is involved in this scheme. And you must know that if you tell her you've found him, she will insist on meeting him."

"And he will insist that their relationship remains the same, that he not reveal himself to her."

"Let's say your plan works and she gives you the key for you to give to her David and then you unearth what the key opens and find the evidence against the Loyalists Coalition. What will you tell Caroline?"

Wolfe looked squarely at Ellison. "I'll tell her everything, except about Preston Shaw's involvement with the Loyalists Coalition. I intend to let her continue believing her stepfather was a hero, that he died because he had gotten hold of evidence against some evil characters."

"In other words, you're going to lie to her."

"Yeah. I'm going to let her hold on to at least one fantasy while she's forced to let go of another."

"
And what fantasy would that be—the one she'll be forced to let go of?" Ellison asked.

"The one about her benefactor David. It will be necessary to eliminate him. Once everything else is settled, she will receive a letter from his lawyer telling her of his death."

"You already had this planned, didn't you, before Caroline found the key? You were going to cut your ties to her."

Wolfe nodded. "I should have gotten her benefactor out of her life years ago, once she outgrew the need for him. But selfishly, I allowed things to continue as they were."

"Satisfy an old man's curiosity. . ." Ellison smiled, but there was a rather sad, lonely look in his eyes. "Is she all that you thought she was, all you had hoped she would be?"

Quiet fell on the office. A hushed stillness. Wolfe breathed softly. In and out, in and out. "Yes," he replied. "All that and more."

"She need never know who you really are," Ellison said. "You could be with her, if that's what you want"

If that's what he wanted! As emotional pain radiated through him, Wolfe shut his eyes, refusing to acknowledge that there was even a glimmer of hope. "I would know the truth—that I killed Preston Shaw—and eventually the he standing between Caroline and me would destroy me. No, it's better this way."

"Very well." Preston pointed to the table piled high with Preston Shaw's files. "You'd better spend the morning looking through that mess, just to continue the farce. And in a week's time, if you can persuade Caroline to go along with your plan, we can use some excuse concerning your recheck-
ing
those files to arrange another meeting."

Wolfe nodded agreement, then pulled out a chair and sat at the desk. During the next couple of hours, he would work his way through these files, then he would call Jack Parker and let him know it would be this evening before he could make it back to Caroline's St. Michaels studio. He had several errands to run, certain arrangements to be made and a few decisions to make. Glancing down at the date displayed on his wristwatch, he was reminded of what day it was today. This would be his one and only chance to spend Caroline's birthday with her. Was he wrong to want to make it a memorable event?

Despite her concern about what information Wolfe might have uncovered when he went through Preston's files today, Caroline finished the last photo shoot of the day feeling pleased with the photographs she'd taken. Lindsey Chapman, a June bride-to-be, had driven in from Wilmington with her groom. Seeing the young couple so much in love and so totally devoted to each other had evoked mixed emotions within Caroline. Joy for the couple and a reaffirmation that true love existed. But also a sense of sadness and perhaps a little jealousy because she doubted she would ever share that kind of happiness with someone.

"Weren't they absolutely disgusting," Roz said. "And God, don't you envy them."

Caroline laughed, thankful for
Roz's
sense of humor. Somehow her dear friend always knew the right thing to say to lighten a dark mood.

"Do you think either of us will ever be that lucky?" Caroline flopped down in the padded swivel chair, lifted her feet and propped them on her desk.

"You, maybe," Roz said. "If you'll ever quit mooning over that phantom benefactor of yours and start taking notice of what's right under your nose."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that six-foot-two
hottie
who's living in your house." Roz opened the compact
minifridge
sitting on a corner table, retrieved a couple of bottles of lemon-flavored iced tea and tossed one to Caroline.

"I don't think Wolfe is the type for long-term commitments." Caroline twisted off the bottle cap, shot it into the wastebasket by her desk and lifted the refreshing drink to her lips.

"My theory is that no man is prepared for marriage, not until the right woman comes along and he realizes that he can't live without her." Roz uncapped her drink, tossed the lid at the wastebasket, missed by a couple of inches, then shrugged and took a big swig of tea.

Jack Parker suddenly appeared in the open doorway, a friendly good-old-boy smile on his face and a small package in his hand. "Pardon me, ladies, but this little item just arrived special delivery for Miss Caroline."

Caroline eyed the small parcel that Jack laid on her desk, which she could tell had been opened and hastily rewrapped. From the untidy appearance of the shiny paper and the lopsided bow, she suspected that neither Jack nor Matt was adept at gift wrapping. When she glanced up at Jack, he grinned.

"Sorry about not getting it put back together all pretty like, but I did the best I could," he said.

"You opened Caroline's package?" Roz asked.

"Had to, ma'am," Jack explained. "Never know what might have been in there. Could have been something dangerous."

"Oh, stupid me." Roz grimaced. "I keep forgetting. So, I take it the package is safe."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Go on. Open it," Roz said. "I'm curious to see who's sending you presents and it's not even Christmas."