She started for the door, but Mihaly didn't budge. Renke's hand shot out like a stop sign in front of her. "No."

She stared. "What do you mean, no? You heard him, Meg is in danger. We have to go now now!"

"Not you. My partner said you stay here, and I agree."

"They asked for me and Drew," she insisted. "At least one of us has to show up, or they'll think it's a trap."

"No. He's right, Lauren." Mihaly's voice was softer, but no less firm. "I promised Drew you would be safe."

"Where is he?" Pierson interrupted. "He's supposed to be there, too."

"He and Chapman are checking out a lead, but we can call him. He'll be there," she a.s.sured him. "And so will I," she told Mihaly.

"No, you stay here. I will go. Meg will trust me."

"And me." She'd practically forgotten about Gerald, who was apparently as bored with sitting around waiting as she was. "If I can't go home, then at least I can help." He stuck his hands on his hips and faced Renke. "But I won't carry a gun, so don't ask."

Renke gave him a withering look. "Never occurred to me. In fact, taking you along never occurred to me, either."

"Too bad." Gerald pushed past him. "You need to create a presence, and they both know and trust me. I'm not doing anyone any good here. Don't just stand there, let's get moving."

Renke turned a skeptical look on Mihaly, who shrugged. "He's right. The more of us, the better."

When Renke's gaze swung to Lauren, Pierson moved to her side. "I'll stay here with Lauren," he offered. "Please, just find Harlan and Meg, and get this whole thing over with."

"d.a.m.n it," Renke muttered, looking at his improvised posse. "Okay, let's go."

"Hey!" Lauren objected.

The door shut in her face. She kicked it, almost glad of the pain that distracted her from her frustration.

Pierson watched silently out the window as Renke's car drove off, then pulled a cell phone from his pocket. An awkward sense of propriety that Lauren thought she'd overcome compelled her to quote the rules as he dialed a number. "The Secret Service didn't want us making calls, even on cell phones. The wrong people could listen in."

He flashed a cool smile, holding the phone to his ear. "I don't think it matters anymore." He may have been right, but before she even had a chance to argue he spoke to someone on the other end. "They're on their way."

At Lauren's puzzled look, Senator Pierson flipped the phone shut, raked her with a head-to-toe appraisal and held an arm out toward the couch. "Shall we make ourselves comfortable while we wait? It won't be long."

Something in his smile made her shiver.

Drew ground his teeth as the desk clerk flicked another piece of lint from his blazer. In about ten seconds Drew was going to leap over the counter, grab a fistful of that nifty red blazer the clerk seemed so fond of, and stuff it down the little twerp's throat.

"Yeah, I remember the badge," the twerp said. "It was really cool. Star shaped, just like in the movies, ya know? But I didn't really look at the guy's face."

Chapman's patience looked to be fraying, too, but it was still more stable than Drew's. "You must have noticed something because you said he wasn't blond."

The clerk nodded thoughtfully. "That's right, I did. And I'm positive about that. So I guess I am kinda observant, huh?" He stood straighter and adjusted the jacket.

Drew's jaw was beginning to hurt from clenching it so hard. The kid at the desk had actually spoken to the man who was their best lead, and he couldn't remember a thing about the guy, except that he wasn't the man in the picture they'd shown him. Drew would have loved to knock the kid's memory back into place, but since Chapman's method was more likely to get results, he ground another millimeter of enamel off his molars and kept quiet.

"Maybe he was older," Chapman suggested. "Maybe he had gray hair."

"Fu... I mean, heck, no. The guy wasn't that old. I woulda noticed that, for sure. Secret Service guys are never old, right? Say, what do they do with you guys when you get too old to take down some bad guy?"

Chapman's eye developed a tic, and he looked like he wanted to demonstrate his proficiency at that skill right now. "So he didn't have gray hair?"

"No way. Hey, I remembered that! I'm pretty good at this. Ask me another one."

Drew ma.s.saged the pain between his eyes and resigned himself to a long interview as Chapman ground out, "Any tattoos?"

"No! That's another one! You and me make a good team, man."

Tension settled in Drew's neck. Tuning out the kid, he tilted his head upward and to the right until he heard a tiny crack. Much better. Tilting to the left, he repeated the process, concentrating on the stiff spot in his neck as his gaze drifted along the upper corner of the wall. And stopped.

Without moving his head, he tapped a knuckle against Chapman's shoulder until the agent turned with an irritated, "What?"

Drew pointed. Chapman's gaze followed, then froze at the upper corner of the wall behind the clerk.

"You have a security camera," he said.

The clerk glanced at the object of their fascination and shrugged. "Yeah."

Drew exchanged cautious looks with Chapman before addressing the kid. "Does it work?"

"Sure. Wouldn't do much good if it didn't." His expression said they were going to have to be brighter than that if they expected to find their man.

Chapman leaned over the counter and grabbed the kid by his bright red lapel. "Find the tape from the night before last. Now."

The clerk's blank, open-mouthed stare gradually took on the glimmer of intelligence. "Hey, good thinking! The dude is probably on there, isn't he?"

"Let's hope so," Chapman muttered as he released the kid. "We deserve a break."

They got more than they expected. Watching the flickering TV screen in the manager's office, Chapman kept his finger on the remote's fast forward b.u.t.ton until Drew ordered, "Stop. There he is."

On the silent, black and white film, a man showed his badge and spoke to the desk clerk.

"Hot d.a.m.n," Chapman exclaimed, leaning closer to the screen. "I know this guy. Tough att.i.tude, chip on his shoulder. He got himself messed up pretty bad in a car wreck and was off work for close to a year. He can't have been back more than a few months. If he's been a.s.signed to any of the same officials as Marlow, it should be easy to find out. Someone had to have recruited these guys."

"The sooner we find out, the better," Drew said.

Chapman already had his phone in his hands when it rang. Frowning at the readout, he answered with a growled, "I said no calls. This better be good."

Drew listened with disinterest until he heard the agent's startled, "You're where where?"

Curiosity turned to caution as he saw Chapman's posture stiffen. Something had happened. Drew drummed his fingers on the manager's desk until Chapman hung up.

"Your father and his secretary phoned Senator Pierson," Chapman summarized as he began dialing another number. "Said they know who the blackmailer is. They're in danger, so Renke and your friends went to get them." He held his hand up as he snapped out a fax request to someone on the phone, then hung up. "We'll join them as soon as I get the fax on this guy."

Drew struggled to absorb the sudden developments. Somehow, his father had figured it out. The case was about to split wide open with his dad caught in the middle, holding the dangerous information that would expose some high-level government official. If the blackmailer knew, he would panic. His dad's life was in danger, along with the lives of anyone with him.

His mind reeling with information, Drew focused on the part that mattered most-Lauren.

"Lauren's with them?" The thought of her heading directly into a confrontation with the agents who'd shot at them hit Drew like a punch to the gut. He couldn't put her in danger again.

"No, they left her at the house. Pierson volunteered to stay with her."

Relief eased through him. Pierson wouldn't be his first choice, but Lauren would be safe enough until he could get back to her. The worst he could say about Senator Pierson was that he was a lecherous ladies' man. But unlike Senator Creighton, Pierson's leering propositions were just an act. Probably.

"I have to get back to Lauren," he said.

Chapman squinted at him in disbelief. "You did hear what I said, didn't you? Your father is in danger. So is your girlfriend's sister. Your girlfriend is safe."

His girlfriend? Drew tested the word in his mind. No, Lauren wasn't his girlfriend. She was far more than that. Somewhere along the way his instinct to protect her had slipped into a need to never let her go. And right now, rescuing his dad from certain danger took second place to a.s.suring himself that Lauren was safe.

Like it or not, Chapman was going to have to drop him off at the house before rescuing Senator Creighton.

Drew held out his hand. "Give me the keys. I'll have the car waiting at the door as soon as you get that fax."

Chapman leveled a hard stare at him. "You're not driving. And if you take off with a government car I'll put you in jail."

"I'm not stupid. I need something to do." All he needed to do was put himself behind the wheel. Chapman could go to Maryland, but he'd be stopping in Georgetown first.

"I know the feeling." Chapman tossed him the keys. "But don't think I'm kidding about jail."

Drew let the big, black Ford idle by the entrance, pondering the problem of how he could convince Lauren to commit herself to one man after showing her all the fun she'd missed by doing that very thing. To plan a future together after scoffing at her fondness for plans and procedures.

The irony was difficult to appreciate at the moment.

Drew's thoughts scattered abruptly as the pa.s.senger door jerked open, then slammed behind Chapman.

"Drive!"

The edge of fear in Chapman's voice was new. Without thinking, Drew responded to the urgency, ripping the car into gear and slamming his foot on the accelerator. Tires squealed as he barreled out of the driveway, barely pausing to check oncoming traffic. Still rocking from the turn, Drew drove his foot to the floor. Chapman reached down below the glove compartment and came up with a flashing red light. Lowering his window, he slapped the light onto the roof.

d.a.m.n. Drew blew through the next light.

Traffic was light this close to midnight. Swerving around an SUV, Drew spared a glance at Chapman. The agent's mouth was set in a grim line as he reached for his seatbelt. Drew had a feeling the detour to Georgetown wasn't going to go over well. Maybe he should just call Lauren to rea.s.sure himself.

"Turn here," Chapman ordered. "We're going to Georgetown."

Cold knifed into him, then twisted in his gut. The emergency was in Georgetown.

"What happened?" he demanded.

He felt Chapman's gaze from the pa.s.senger seat. "Look, I might be wrong. It could be nothing."

If that was meant to be rea.s.suring, it didn't work. Drew knew enough about the methodical, organized Chapman to know the agent didn't react like this to "nothing."

"G.o.dd.a.m.n it." Drew growled. "What's wrong?" "What's wrong?"

"The fax." Chapman brandished the wrinkled paper he'd tossed on the seat next to him. "Our guy has spent all his time working in the ident.i.ty theft department. He's only had contact with one high-level official since he returned to work. And it's a name that shows up repeatedly on Marlow's resume."

They did it. They'd found the common denominator, the one person most likely to have selected the agents to aid him with the blackmail scheme.

Drew eased up on the accelerator until the car slowed to ninety, then took his eyes off the road long enough look at Chapman.

Chapman's lip curled with distaste. "Senator Pierson."

Drew swore. And floored it.

Pierson's hand on her thigh made her skin crawl right through her robe. She jumped to her feet, tightening the flimsy belt as she did. "This is terribly inappropriate, entertaining company in my robe. If you'll give me a moment, I'll just go put some clothes on."

She started toward the stairs, but a tug on the end of her belt reeled her back like a leash. "I disagree. You'll be a lot more entertaining in your robe. Sit." He patted the couch beside him and pulled on her arm firmly enough that she had to either sit or fall into his lap. She sat.

He was too close and his hand was back on her leg, just above her knee. It might have been a fatherly gesture if not for the avaricious gleam in the senator's eyes. She wanted to slap his hand away, but had a bad feeling it would only be a signal to play rough.

She cleared her throat and steadied herself so her voice wouldn't shake. "Senator, what's going on?"

"What does it look like, Lauren? We're finally getting to know each other without your watchdog getting in the way."

Watchdog? "You mean Drew?"

"Nice boy but a bit too possessive. Too bad his father didn't teach him to share."

She tried to concentrate on what he was saying, but his hand had begun ma.s.saging her thigh. She reacted, pushing his hand away and smoothing her robe with short, nervous strokes. "You've been, uh, sharing with Senator Creighton?"

"Let's just say he never seemed to mind when I dated his ex-girlfriends. Harlan's not the possessive type." His hand settled back on her leg, a little closer to her inner thigh than before.

Too many things were wrong with this situation. She lifted his hand this time, setting it firmly on his own thigh while giving him a direct look. "I thought you were married."

He chuckled. "I know you're not that naive, Lauren. Your sister certainly isn't. But don't worry about my wife causing problems. She's glad I have my little distractions."

"Ah. Thank you for clearing that up." Oh G.o.d, what had Meg been doing? She remembered how Pierson had made no secret of his attraction to Meg, but she'd thought it was all a flirtatious act. "Senator, I'm not like Meg." It was easy to make her voice firm when she was this sincere. "Not at all."

His lips curved up. "That's good to hear." His voice was silky, and his mouth close enough for her to smell the nicotine on his breath. "Meg's a tease, always putting me off. She's been making me wait for too long. I'm glad to hear you're not like that." His hand was back, sliding into the curve of her thigh, as far as the robe permitted him to go.

Even without touching her skin, the move was far too intimate. She bolted from the couch like a horse from the starting gate, thinking fast. The only option was to play along until she could devise a way out.

She faced him, eyes hooded, smile deliberately calculating. Stalling. "I'm beginning to understand, Senator. So let's set some ground rules."

"The only rule is I'm in charge, and I'm going to f.u.c.k your brains out."

Her heart lurched and her mouth went dry. It was hard to think when he said stuff like that but talking was better than doing. "Oh, yeah. Talk dirty to me." She lowered her voice to a confidential whisper. "Tell me what you're going to do."

"I just did. Now let's do it."

A city full of blowhard politicians and she got the one man of action. Her mind was frantically clawing for escape when the cell phone on the table beside her startled her with a loud ring. Before Pierson could stop her, she s.n.a.t.c.hed it up. "h.e.l.lo?"

"Lauren! Thank G.o.d!" The relief in Drew's voice was a contrast to Pierson's scowl. The senator didn't seem to like her being on the phone, which was all the more reason to stay on it.