Drew's eyes caught the same spark as he nodded. "The desk clerk at our hotel. The kid said he wasn't blond, so I didn't ask him to identify the man. But it must be him, the blond guy's partner."

Mihaly was apparently thinking along the same lines. "Maybe one of these men recruited the other. But maybe they were both recruited by the same man. Perhaps there is some official they both had contact with. If we get an ID, we can compare a.s.signments with Marlow."

Chapman didn't seem excited to have so many self-appointed a.s.sistants, but only asked, "What time did you talk to the desk clerk?"

"It was about three thirty in the morning, just before we left for the airport."

"Night shift. Okay, I'll call the hotel, get his home address. Maybe we can catch him before he goes to work."

He was back within five minutes. "No go. The kid lives with his mother. Mom says he's out with friends and won't come home before going to work. She suggested I look for him at Gamer's nightclub in Arlington or a nearby McDonald's," he reported dryly. "I say we wait until his shift starts at eleven."

Five hours. Crime solving was getting duller by the minute. Lauren could think of a fun way to pa.s.s the time but stealing away upstairs with Drew would be rather conspicuous. Disgruntled and tired from being up all night, she went upstairs alone to nap.

No one seemed to have moved when she came downstairs four hours later, except Gerald. While the others sat silently behind magazines or newspapers, he had resorted to dusting the furniture to keep busy. On hands and knees, he squinted through his wire-rimmed gla.s.ses as he polished the clawed foot of an end table. Sighing, Lauren picked up a magazine and joined Drew on the sofa.

Two minutes later she was startled by a yell.

"Ouch! Holy effin' h.e.l.l! Darn it!" Holding his knee, Gerald rubbed vigorously, then picked up something from the carpet. The object in his fingers caught a tiny glint from the table lamp. "Someone lost a diamond ring."

He looked directly at Lauren.

"Not mine," she said, shrugging.

Gerald's gaze drifted to her ringless left hand and his eyebrows rose.

Hearing a soft snort from Drew beside her, she caught his smile as he kept his attention on his newspaper. "Finders keepers," he murmured, as he shot her a hot glance from behind the pages.

Lauren felt heat rise in her cheeks, wanting to believe Drew referred to more than just her ring.

"Now, that's a new one," Renke said. "Guess it shows how much money you have when you find diamond rings in the carpet. If I found a ring in my carpet, it woulda come from a gum machine."

Chapman leaned over to see it better. "I don't know, doesn't look like much of a diamond. You sure it's real?"

With Renke and Chapman bored enough to take an interest in her ring, Lauren did a frantic mental search for any territory they hadn't covered. Anything to keep the conversation off that ring. "So what happens if you identify this other agent?"

Chapman instantly lost interest in the ring in favor of protocol.

"With two positive suspects nailed down, we bring them in. If they're still working as agents, they shouldn't be too hard to locate."

"What if they don't talk?"

Chapman's tight expression indicated how unfortunate a choice that would be.

"Then it just takes a little longer. We might be able to narrow the list by connecting them to the same official, like he said." He jerked his thumb at Mihaly. "But from the beginning we've been checking out anyone who might have an interest in the outcome of the offsh.o.r.e drilling bill. It's a long list." He smiled grimly. "So I plan to make sure they talk."

Mention of the bill reminded Lauren of the partisan battle in Congress that had caused the forced votes. Privately, Lauren wondered how much the president's chief advisor on domestic affairs might care about the outcome of that bill. The woman's comments at the Romanian Emba.s.sy party had been particularly biting. Although jumping from a dislike of Meg to blackmailing United States senators seemed too much of a stretch to even mention to Chapman.

By the time Agent Chapman pulled out his car keys at ten thirty, they all responded like dogs eager to go along for a ride. Renke was the first to get shot down.

"You have to stay here with these guys."

Renke frowned at his babysitting duties. "You can't go out alone. Once you look like you're investigating a decent lead, they're gonna go for you."

"I'll go," Mihaly volunteered quickly. "I have experience with this sort of... diplomacy."

Chapman obviously knew what he meant, jingling his keys thoughtfully while considering it. But it was Drew his gaze finally settled on.

"Creighton can come. Seeing him might help jog the clerk's memory. Besides," he scowled at Lauren and Drew, "The last time I left you two alone with orders to stay put, you were gone within thirty minutes."

"Fine," Drew agreed. "But Lauren goes too. She stays with me."

"Miss Sutherland stays here." Chapman was equally firm. "She's a target, and I'm not parading her around D.C. where someone can shoot at her again."

Drew frowned, considering it. For a moment Lauren was touched by his obvious concern, until the implications of what Chapman had said hit her. With an anxious start, she jumped to her feet. "That means Drew's a target, too."

Her worried gaze met his. Through the shared danger of the past two days, she'd never considered the possibility of losing him.

Unspoken emotions churned inside her, stirring up feelings she'd tried to ignore. Feelings she shouldn't have for a man intended to be nothing more than a casual fling.

"I won't be nearly as much of a target without you." Drew's calm words cut through the turmoil inside her.

Chapman sneered. "Especially if you're not bombing around town in a bright red convertible that practically shouts, 'Look at me!'"

Lauren ignored him. Watching Drew, she bit her lower lip to keep from blurting out the words that tugged at her heart.

"Mihaly," Drew began.

"Don't worry," he said. "I will stay with Lauren."

"So will I," Renke muttered. "But I'm only an experienced Secret Service agent, so you might not find that rea.s.suring."

Gerald stood, hooking his arm through Lauren's. "So will I. You just run along and play cops and robbers, Andrew. We'll hold down the fort."

A hint of a smile showed on Drew's mouth. "Thanks."

Chapman studiously ignored Gerald. "Let's get going."

Lauren watched him go without saying what she was thinking, hoping she'd get a chance to say it later.

Waiting was torture. Lauren couldn't avoid the feeling that something big was about to happen, that they were on the verge of finding the person behind the blackmail photos. And, consequently, on the verge of finding Meg and Senator Creighton. And she was stuck at home, waiting, while Drew got to act.

After half an hour of leafing through magazines, Lauren decided one more minute on the couch would drive her crazy. "How long do you think they'll be?" she asked Renke.

"Don't know. Maybe an hour and a half."

"Fine. I'm taking a shower."

The prospect of warm water and fragrant soap sounded like the best thing she'd done all day. The best thing she'd done, in fact, since yesterday morning when she woke up beside Drew in the hotel, snuggled against his naked body, which had been one of the best things she'd ever ever done. done.

Lauren stripped off her jeans and T-shirt, recalling Drew's hands on her, touching her, teasing her, kissing her until she was dizzy with an emotion that felt suspiciously like love.

Lauren sucked in her breath at the thought. That wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't- Gerald's shriek carried up the stairs. Hastily wrapping a robe over her bra and panties, she ran downstairs.

Gerald stood in the living room, red-faced with anger, glaring at Renke's back. Seeing Lauren he huffed, "These federal boys wave their subst.i.tute p.e.n.i.ses around at the slightest excuse, just to scare the citizens."

She scrunched her brow. "Huh?"

"The gun," Gerald sniffed.

Lauren followed his gaze to the front window and finally noticed the dull black Sig Sauer in Renke's right hand as he peered around the curtains.

"Mr. Macho could have shot my head off the way he whipped that thing out. All because a car pulled into the driveway. Sheesh."

"Quiet." The order came from Mihaly, who peered out another window, gun in hand.

"He's coming up the walk, fast," Renke reported, as he switched to a two-handed grip, moving to stay out of view.

When the doorbell rang Lauren looked at him. Renke motioned at Gerald with his gun, stepping around to the foyer. "Get it."

Casting a nervous look at Renke's gun, Gerald eased past Renke to check the peep hole. He looked at Lauren in surprise. "It's Senator Pierson."

"Let him in," she said.

"Just one d.a.m.n minute!" Renke stomped forward, the gun held against his side, but his other arm pointing at Gerald. "Don't touch that door. Miss Sutherland does not decide who comes in this house. I do."

"Oh, for Pete's sake," she said, pushing past him. "Senator Pierson knows about Meg and Harlan, and what's more, he's the only one who's provided any help so far. We're letting him in."

Renke dropped his arm, his face blank with confusion. "The only one...? Does anyone even wonder what the government pays me for?"

Lauren pushed past Renke, reaching Gerald just as he opened the door.

Pierson startled her, bolting inside, slightly dishelved and breathing hard. "Gerald! Where's-" Seeing her, he started again without a pause. "Lauren! I just got a phone call-"

Pierson made a gargling sound as he spotted Renke, gun drawn and aimed at him. He jumped back. "Jesus Christ! What's going on here?"

Lauren pulled him all the way in as Gerald shut the door. "It's okay, he's a Secret Service agent." To Renke she hissed, "Would you put the gun down? This man is a family friend."

Renke didn't obey and neither did Mihaly. Gesturing at Pierson with the gun, he barked, "Hands above your head."

Pierson did as ordered, rolling alarmed eyes at both of them. The Romanian's gun remained leveled at the Senator's chest while Renke frisked him.

Renke stepped back. "He's clean." Lauren thought he almost sounded disappointed. The agent straightened, tucking his gun into a shoulder holster. Mihaly's gun disappeared in a similar manner.

Pierson ran a hand through his slightly mussed, short hair, eyeing the two men with caution. "Gerald, is everything okay here?"

"Yes it is, sir," Renke responded before Gerald could open his mouth. "Could you tell me why you're here?"

"I was asked to deliver a message to Drew Creighton." He turned to Lauren. "And you."

p.r.i.c.kles of fear ran up her arms. "Drew's not here, but he'll be back soon. Who is the message from?"

"Harlan and Meg." His uneasy glance darted to the men, then back to her. "Maybe it's a good thing they're here," he said. "We need help."

Only a determined effort kept her from grabbing him by the arms and shaking him. "You heard from Meg? What was the message?"

"They called me. Told me to find you and Drew, have you bring whatever authorities you know you can trust. I don't know what in the h.e.l.l they meant by that, if they meant the police, or Secret Service, or-"

"Don't worry," Lauren interrupted, suddenly as edgy and anxious as Pierson. "What did they want us to do?"

"Meet them." He grabbed her arms, squeezing with startling force. Fear seemed to run like an electric current from his hands into her body. "But you can't go, Lauren. It could be a trap. Harlan sounded afraid, and in all the years I've known him, I've never heard that kind of fear in his voice."

"Why did they call you you?" Mihaly's harsh question interrupted him. "And why now?"

Pierson kept his alarmed gaze on Lauren as he answered Mihaly. "They said they know who the blackmailer is."

CHAPTER Thirteen.

Mihaly swore fiercely. "If they made that known, they must be in danger. Where are they?"

Pierson looked from Mihaly to Renke, suspicion mingling with confusion on his face. "Are you both Secret Service?" He peered at Mihaly. "What was that accent? Are you even an American?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned to Lauren. "I don't understand. Why are these men here? Why do you need protection?"

Before she could answer, Renke spoke up. "Why did they call you when they could have called us?"

"They said this phone was tapped." Pierson frowned. "I'd like to see some ID."

"Yes, sir." With an efficient flick of his wrist, Renke flipped open a leather folder. Pierson glanced at it, grunted, and nodded his head at Mihaly. "You, too."

Lauren didn't see what Mihaly showed him, but Pierson looked up and said, incredulously, "Romania?"

"Deputy Amba.s.sador," Mihaly said dryly, supplying the t.i.tle no one seemed to believe. "Also a good friend of Meg's. Please tell us what they told you."

"In detail, from the beginning," Renke added.

Pierson took a deep breath and nodded. "Harlan called me at home about half an hour ago. He started to give me some story about hiding out from the press, but I told him I knew about the blackmail scheme. He wasn't happy about that." Pierson gave Lauren an apologetic smile. "He seemed concerned that I would be in danger, too. And he gave me an address where Drew and Lauren can meet them. He said someone spotted them yesterday and they think the area is being searched. They're afraid to come in on their own." With another hesitant glance at Lauren, he added, "They said to hurry."

Mihaly swore again.

"Where are they?" Renke demanded.

The Senator handed over a slip of paper. "It's in Maryland, about forty-five minutes from here." To Lauren, he said, "My hunch was right. It's the same place I told you and Drew about earlier."

A sense of urgency shot through Lauren. Forgetting she wore little more than a robe, she rushed to Mihaly, grabbing his arm. "We can't wait. Come on, we'll go now and Drew can meet us there."