Radclyffe - Oath of Honor

“What?” Evyn frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I’ll tell you when this is over.”

“Then let’s finish getting you wired so we can find out what the hell is going on and put a stop to it.”

“Let’s do that.”

“Do I have to say be careful?”

“I don’t mind when you do, but I promise I will be. And I’ll see you at the end of the night.”

Evyn’s lips parted slightly, her face flushing. “I’d like that. A lot.”

The tightness in Wes’s belly warmed her until she was close to forgetting everything except the softness of Evan’s mouth and the taste of her skin. She pulled away. “Good.”

“Don’t take any chances,” Evyn whispered.

“Don’t worry. We have unfinished business, and I plan to take care of it.”

*

“Can I get you a drink?” Jennifer took Wes’s coat and hung it on a wrought-iron coat tree just inside the door of her town house.

“Scotch and water would be great,” Wes said. The town house in Adams Morgan was small but impeccably restored. The hardwood floors gleamed, the walls were painted in nineteenth-century period colors, the wood staircase leading to the second floor was adorned with a hand-carved newel post and banister. The furniture and thick area rugs were understated but obviously expensive. Jennifer lived well on her military salary.

“Have a seat, I’ll be right back.” Jennifer disappeared through a door beyond the staircase that Wes assumed led to the kitchen. She settled on the sofa and studied the books on the floor-to-ceiling shelves opposite her. American classics for the most part, a few contemporary titles. Nothing to help define Jennifer as an individual. On the short Metro ride, Jennifer had asked about her most recent posting and how she was finding the job. The kind of casual conversation individuals getting to know each other had. At one point as they walked, Jennifer had slipped her hand through Wes’s arm, an invitation or maybe a query. Wes pressed her arm closer to her body, securing Jennifer’s hold, signaling—she hoped—interest. Jennifer had responded by leaning into her shoulder a little more and squeezing her arm.

“Here you go.” Jennifer held out a crystal rock glass with two inches of dark amber liquid inside and sat on the sofa next to Wes with a glass of wine.

Wes sipped the scotch. Smoky, dense, expensive. “Thanks.”

Jennifer sighed. “This is nice. How about I order in? There’s a great little restaurant down the street that delivers quickly.”

“Sure, unless you’re too tired. I can go—”

“No.” Jennifer pressed her palm to Wes’s thigh. “Not now that I’ve got you here. I’ll get you the menu.”

“Don’t bother. Order what you like—surprise me.”

Jennifer smiled. “I plan to.” She rose and set her wineglass on the end table. “I’ll be right back.”

When Jennifer returned, Wes asked, “So where does your sister live?”

“Ohio,” Jennifer answered immediately. “She and her husband have a dairy farm there.”

“Just you and her or a big family?”

“Just us. My parents met later in life and they’re both gone now.”

“Sorry.”

“I was looking forward to my sister and her family coming here, but her husband’s mother needed emergency gallbladder surgery. That put an end to the Christmas plans. What about you?”

“Three sisters. I would’ve gone home for the holidays—I generally take my annual leave at this time of year—but I’m here.”

“You didn’t have much notice, I guess.” Jennifer cradled the wineglass in one hand, drew her legs beneath her on the sofa, and rested her free left hand on Wes’s thigh.

Wes tightened automatically and Jennifer made a sound as if she were purring. Wes tried to remember the question as Jennifer’s fingers stroked slowly up and down the inside of her leg. “I wasn’t expecting this job, true.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here.” Jennifer leaned into Wes a little more. “They certainly got you on board at lightning speed.”

“I’m glad it wasn’t a drawn-out process.”

“I guess they explained what happened to Len—the heart attack out of the blue?”

Wes chose her words carefully. Jennifer might be searching—trying to find out if Wes had any suspicions about O’Shaughnessy’s death—or her questions could simply be curiosity. Somehow, though, Wes doubted it. “Nothing unusual on his post. Probably an arrhythmia.”

“You just never expect it, when someone’s in such good shape—” Jennifer’s cell rang. “Oh, sorry. That must be the restaurant. They always forget to ask about the hot sauce.” She grabbed her phone. “Hold on. Hello?”

Jennifer frowned. “I’m sorry. Let me just take this—it’s a friend from out of town.”

“Of course,” Wes said as Jennifer rose. “Take your time.”

“Hi, Tom,” Jennifer said, walking toward the kitchen.

Wes hesitated, uncertain how good her audio would be a room away through the old thick walls. She got up and walked toward the kitchen, pausing outside the archway.

“Ellie told me you’d be calling. Are you in town long?”

“I’m afraid tonight isn’t a good night. I think it would be awkward for me to change my plans. But if you’re on a tight schedule—”

“No, no, I’m more than ready. What about breakfast?”

“There’s a diner a block from my apartment. Eva’s.”

“Seven thirty?”

Wes registered the silence a second before Jennifer appeared in the kitchen doorway.

“Sorry,” Wes said quickly. “I was looking for the bathroom.”

Jennifer smiled thinly, her eyes narrowing. “Top of the stairs on your left.”

“Thanks. Be right back.”

“The food should be here soon.” Jennifer traced a fingertip over the top of Wes’s hand. “I hope you’re as hungry as I am.”

Chapter Thirty

Evyn called Cameron Roberts. “We’ve got something on audio. Sounds like she’s arranging a meet.”

“E-mail me the audio file,” Cam said.

“It’s on its way.” She glanced at Block, crowded next to her in the back of the surveillance van. They’d parked around the corner from Jennifer Pattee’s town house, within range of the transmitter Wes was wearing but out of line of sight. Block was focused on monitoring the audio feed—he wasn’t paying any attention to her. “We can’t get both sides of the conversation, but the subject is coming through clear. She mentioned a mutual contact—Tom. There’s no way he—”

“That doesn’t concern us right now,” Cam said.

She knew their priority was locating and securing the stolen biocontagion, but no way was she letting Tom become a suspect. “I just want to go on record that I’m the best one to have observed his activities, and nothing suggests he’s involved.”

“I appreciate that, and I’m sure he will too. We picked up the name on a few scattered communications over the last few weeks, but we haven’t been able to put anything together. At this point, we’re simply being cautious.”

“I understand. There’s something else,” Evyn said. “I think she made Wes.”

“Hold on. Let me listen to this,” Cam said. “I’m downloading it now.”

Evyn chafed in the sudden silence and switched to watching the video feed from the camera they’d mounted on a light pole halfway down the block from Jennifer Pattee’s front door. If she didn’t occupy her mind, she was going to drive herself crazy imagining what was going on with Wes inside that house. They didn’t have eyes inside—there hadn’t been time to get anything in place. So she was left to imagining Wes and Jennifer’s activities by following the audio transcript on the computer next to Block. The impersonal words appeared as if a ghost were typing them, but she had no difficulty hearing Wes’s voice. She knew Jennifer Pattee well enough to recognize hers too. As the words scrolled down the screen, Evyn saw Jennifer with Wes.