Category Five (17 page)

Read Category Five Online

Authors: Philip Donlay

After collecting the ticket from the valet, Donovan entered the high-ceilinged lobby. The tile floor reflected the huge chandelier that hung overhead. There were dozens of people conversing in small groups, the murmur of their conversations echoing around the large room. Donovan scanned the lobby looking for Erin. He finally spotted her. She was seated in a high-backed chair, staring directly at him. There was a panicked look on her face. Donovan wondered briefly if she were going to bolt. She wore a navy blue dress, a simple necklace flashing from her neck. The contrast from yesterday to today wasn't lost on Donovan. Erin Walker looked far more sophisticated and mature this morning than she did sitting in the back of a sheriff's car. He wondered if she'd developed her film yet. Did she figure out he'd taken her film, or did she think her camera had malfunctioned? As he neared, he could see her worried eyes dart from side to side, as if she were trying to decide which way she could run. Donovan closed in on her.

“Good morning, Ms. Walker,” Donovan said, trying not to sound threatening. “Nice to see you again.”

“Hello, Mr. Nash.” Erin squirmed ever so slightly in her chair.

“Did you figure out what was wrong with your car?” As Donovan hovered over her, he could see a vein in her wrist pumping furiously.

“Yes. Thank you. It was something with the spark plugs. I didn't really understand the whole mechanical explanation. But it works now, which is all I care about.”

“That's good to hear,” Donovan said, sweetly. “They really do have an excellent Sunday brunch here. Do you come here often?”

“This is my first time.” Erin glanced over Donovan's shoulder. “I'm actually meeting with someone.”

“Oh really?” Donovan feigned surprise. “Business or pleasure?”

“That's none of your business, Mr. Nash.” Erin smiled, but the tone of her voice was serious.

Donovan unbuttoned his blazer and sat down in a chair across from hers. He could see in her eyes that her stress level had just gone higher. He smiled at her as he formed his words.

“You can call me Donovan. You know, I was hoping I would run into you again. I wanted to apologize about yesterday. I'd had a hard day, then when I received the call from the sheriff, well it was kind of the straw that broke the camel's back. You weren't doing anything wrong and I'm sorry you were treated like a criminal.”

“Thank you,” Erin said, warily.

“I'm the caretaker of the estate and I fear I was a little over-protective. The owners are out of the country a great deal and it's my responsibility to keep an eye on the place. My worst fear is that something happens when they're away.”

“I understand.” Erin's eyes narrowed. “Who does live there? It's a beautiful house.”

“It's a long story.” As Donovan had hoped, her curiosity was beginning to replace her apprehension. “I work for a research organization. It's funded by various grants and foundations. The owners of the house are among those kind enough to donate money to our work. What do you do?”

“I'm a student,” Erin lied. “I'm working on my MBA at Georgetown.”

“Good for you,” Donovan remarked, being as charming as he dared. He could almost hear the gears in her head trying to weigh the advantage of continuing the conversation with him or waiting for her source from the foundation.

“Well, I'm glad we ran into each other. I'd ask you to join me for brunch but perhaps another time?” He acted as if he were getting ready to leave.

“Mr. Nash—I mean Donovan.” Erin hesitated, then looked down at her watch. “I was supposed to meet someone here for business, but they're late.”

“Oh?” Donovan settled back in his chair, a twinkle coming to his eye. “Would it be improper for me to suggest that we maybe go somewhere else? I've always found that if you get stood up, it increases your bargaining power later.”

A wry smile came to Erin's mouth. “I like that idea. Is there another restaurant close by?”

Donovan thought back to William's sage words of advice. Erin was more than eager to get close to the man she was investigating. He wondered how far this exchange could go.

“It's not as nice as this. But there's a Marriott not far from here. The food is decent.”

“Let me leave a note. Then we can go.” Erin stood and smoothed her dress. Donovan rose also and ushered her toward the front desk.

“Did you valet park?” Donovan asked. “I can have them bring both of our cars up. You can follow me over.”

Erin slipped the ticket out of her purse and handed it over. Donovan took it and headed out into the bright morning sun. He wondered what was running through Erin's mind. Did she really think their meeting was random? He rehearsed in his mind what he would and wouldn't divulge. The important thing was to find out as much about her motivation as he could. As Donovan waited for their cars to be brought up, one thought did occur to him. What if Erin were far more intelligent than she initially seemed? It would make her considerably more dangerous than he'd first thought.

“Okay. I'm ready.” Erin joined him under the covered entrance.

“The cars should be up shortly,” Donovan said, then smiled. “I must say, you look nicer today than you did yesterday sitting in a police car.”

“God, I hope so,” Erin laughed easily, stepping a fraction closer to him. “So are you a pilot? Was that a flight suit you had on yesterday?”

“Yeah. I'd just landed when the call came in. That was part of my crummy day. I'd just flown in from Bermuda.”

“Really?” Erin frowned as if trying to put two and two together. “Isn't that where the hurricane is?”

Donovan nodded and watched her expression closely. “It's what I do. I fly for an organization called Eco-Watch. I doubt if you've heard of us.”

Erin cocked her head. “It sounds vaguely familiar. Wasn't there something in the news a while back about them?”

“Yeah. It's ancient history now. So, what brought you out to the country anyway?”

“I was out shopping for antiques. I'd never been out to Aldie before. I live in Arlington and I don't get out of the city very often. I was trying to take a scenic route back home when my car died.”

Donovan nodded as if interested. But she'd told her first truth; he knew she did actually live in Arlington. The valet brought up the Range Rover; another followed shortly with her Honda.

“Follow me.” Donovan smiled as he walked her to her car. He knew this was going to be an interesting test of wills.

As they pulled out of the hotel drive, Donovan took out his cell phone and dialed William. He held his arm close; he didn't want Erin to realize he was on the phone.

“It's me,” Donovan said quickly when the phone was picked up. “I'm with her now; we're going for brunch.”

“Nicely done,” William replied. “I'm glad you called. I've just received some new information.”

“What now?”

“The license plate you had me run. The car that dropped off your visitor last night. It belongs to a photographer with The Washington Post.”

“Figures.” Donovan looked in his rearview mirror, Erin was four car-lengths behind. “We've probably seen some of his work.”

“That would be my guess. Be careful.”

“Do me a favor. Can you give me a call in forty-five minutes or so? Nothing important, but I might want an excuse to leave.”

“No problem. When should we arrange to meet again?”

“I'm not sure. I'll touch base with you later today. I have to fly in the morning. I'd say tomorrow afternoon at the latest.”

“Very well. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Donovan disconnected the call, then looked back at Erin. He wondered how many people were involved in her investigation. Did he have a prayer of trying to keep a lid on her story? Or was it already too late?

They pulled into the parking lot of the Marriott. Donovan was counting on it not to be very crowded. Tourist season was wrapping up and the business travelers would be in short supply
on a Sunday morning. Erin pulled up next to him. Donovan came around and opened the door for her.

“Thank you.” Erin stood and looked around her. “I didn't know this place was here.”

“It's kind of tucked in behind the trees.” Donovan gestured toward the door. He walked beside her and caught the aroma of her perfume, which was stronger than before. They walked in and made their way to the restaurant. In a matter of moments they were seated at a table next to the window, well away from any other patrons.

“The air conditioning feels good,” Erin remarked. “I can't believe the heat this summer. It's the worst I've ever seen.”

“The hurricane should at least bring us some rain.” Donovan hated that they were talking about the weather. He felt as if he'd lost some of the momentum he'd gained.

“You know,” Erin continued. “It occurred to me as we drove over here. I don't really know very much about you.”

Donovan held her gaze. She was a good liar. He couldn't see any sign of weakness in her brown eyes.

“I had the same thought. Here I am sitting with a known criminal. I hope I'm safe.”

Erin laughed. “I'm not a criminal. Besides, I doubt if someone like you has much to fear.”

“Someone like me?” Donovan asked, innocently. He studied her face, the way her short hair made the line from her ear down her neck look sleek and inviting. Her smile was infectious, two small dimples forming when she laughed.

“I do have a confession to make.” Erin lowered her eyes as the waitress came and filled their coffee cups.

Donovan waited until the waitress left two menus, then walked away.

“You were about to make a confession,” Donovan prodded, thinking this should prove interesting.

“I do remember you now. From the newspaper. Weren't you the one who saved all those Russian sailors? Last winter, after their submarine sank or something?”

Donovan nodded. “Yes, that's me. But like I said earlier, it's ancient history.”

“You're a brave man.” Erin reached into her purse, then leaned forward and placed both hands on the table. “Not many people would have done something like that.”

“I was in the right place at the right time. Plus I had a lot of help.” Donovan caught something different in her eyes. Was it respect, fear, or something else?

“What do you do when you're not flying all over the world rescuing people?”

“Mostly paperwork,” Donovan countered. His internal alarms had just gone off. He'd watched as Erin had reached into her purse then positioned the small leather bag differently on her chair. If he were a gambling man, he'd bet that she'd just switched on a tape-recorder.

“No, really,” Erin said, smiling. “What does Donovan Nash do for fun?”

“Well, let's see.” Donovan clasped his hands together and looked straight at her. “It might be easier to tell you what I don't do. I don't allow my charming brunch companion to record our conversation. I thought reporters were supposed to ask permission if they were going to use a tape recorder. Now please put it on the table and turn it off.”

Erin's eyes narrowed as she returned his gaze. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“You don't want to go to jail, do you?” Donovan took a sip from his cup, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Is that a threat?”

“It's a fact of life, I'm afraid. After you left yesterday, I found a few articles missing. At first I thought they might have been
misplaced. But as I searched later, I couldn't find them. I do hope you're getting all of this on tape. Anyway. If the police were to search your car I'm afraid they'd find the stolen items in the trunk.”

“You bastard.” Erin hesitated, then reached into her bag, switched off the miniature recorder, and laid it on the table.

“Thank you.” Donovan picked it up and set it carefully off to the side. “Now tell me, Erin, were you surprised when your pictures didn't turn out?”

“What do you want from me?” Erin's eyes burned with anger and fear. “This wasn't a chance meeting, was it? You set this up, didn't you?”

Donovan shrugged. “It doesn't matter. What does matter is why you were snooping around shooting pictures of my friend's house?”

“Look. What I told you was true. My car broke down and I went up to the house for help. It's as simple as that. Now if you'll excuse me I've had enough of this harassment.”

“I'm calling 911,” Donovan said smoothly, making no move to block her exit.

Erin froze as Donovan picked up his cell phone.

“You're setting me up,” Erin hissed. Her face had gone red with anger.

“How does it feel?”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“I think we'll get along far better if we both drop all the pretense. I found your camera and took the film. I replaced it, then shot a few pictures of the palm of my hand, but you already know that part. I also waited for you to come back and retrieve the Nikon. I enjoyed the part where it took you all of seven seconds to fix your car. The guy who brought you back out to the estate works for the Post. Now I'd suggest we both start over from the beginning.”

Erin glared at him. “I'm a writer. I'm doing a story on Eco-Watch.”

Donovan silently applauded her determination. As she stared at him with her angry eyes, he could almost hear the gears in her head trying to decide how much to reveal.

“How's it going?” Donovan replied, dryly. “You know, in the past when people have done a story about us, they come visit the facility, meet the people. We're more than happy to assist any legitimate writer.”

“What's your point?”

“I'd suggest you keep talking. We both know it's not that simple.” Donovan's finger lightly traced the buttons on his phone.

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