“It was a minor incident, really, and frankly it says more about Dick Bridges than Rich. In any case, the most vivid memory I have of both Bridgeses is from one of those family weekends when the parents came to the school to visit. Most of the students had accomplishments to show off. You know, prizes they’d won, achievements they made. Rich didn’t. As I said, he never made much of an impression in school. At one point during the weekend, I came across the two of them in an out-of-the-way spot where Dick had evidently pulled Rich aside. Dick was berating him, basically screaming at him about how he wasn’t living up to his name and how he had a responsibility to both himself and his father.” Franklin shrugged. “It was the sort of thing most of us had had ingrained in us from an early age. Except that Rich started yelling back, about how he didn’t care about his name, how he wasn’t Dick and never would be, how he didn’t even want to be there—that sort of thing. He only stopped when Dick suddenly slapped him across the face. Dick became very quiet, and he said in this incredibly cold tone that he didn’t care. Rich was his son, and Dick didn’t care what he wanted. He was going to do whatever Dick told him to.”
Franklin shook his head with a shrug. “I didn’t stick around to hear any more. I never was one for uncomfortable scenes, and I’d heard more than enough. I suppose it’s not much of a story anyway. Dick Bridges was the kind of father who was pushing his son hard. That’s no secret. And it all worked out. All that pushing got Rich where he is today. In all likelihood, Dick’s son is going to be our next president.”
Yes, Audrey thought, it was certainly no secret how ambitious Dick Bridges was, nor how much his son’s success meant to him. Rich Bridges was fulfilling his father’s dream after Dick had never achieved his own presidential ambitions. The main reason Dick Bridges’s career had never gone further was that he simply wasn’t very likable. He didn’t have his son’s natural charisma. He came across as cold, arrogant. Even when he was being friendly, it seemed slightly forced, like he was pretending. He just didn’t seem like a very nice man. Franklin’s story was entirely believable. She could easily imagine Dick as a man who’d berate and slap his son because he wasn’t doing what he wanted him to.
Yet, now he was about to get exactly what he wanted. He’d managed to get his son to fall in line, and Rich Bridges was on the verge of becoming president. And it seemed Rich had inherited his father’s unwillingness to let anything stop him from getting what he wanted, she realized with a shudder.
And now she and Stone were the only things left standing in his way.
“W
HAT DO YOU THINK
?” Audrey asked as they left Franklin’s town house and headed back to the car.
“I’m thinking there’s more to this Europe story,” Jason said. “I never considered how unusual it was before. Actually, I never really thought about that element of his history at all.”
“I know it’s common for students from other countries to take a year off to travel and do other things before college, but it’s still pretty rare in the U.S. It certainly would have been thirty-five years ago.”
“Not to mention Dick Bridges doesn’t sound like the kind of father who would be willing to let his son take a year off instead of going to college.”
“So you have to wonder why he did,” Audrey concluded. “There may be more to the story.”
“And if Hal started thinking about why Bridges went to Europe, what would he have done?”
Audrey didn’t even have to think about it. “He would have gone to Barrett’s Mill to see if he could find out whether something happened that summer that would have led to Bridges going away.”
Jason nodded. “Which is exactly what we have to do.”
She glanced at him. “But when? We can’t go now. With Bridges announcing his presidential run in just a few days, the place is going to be overrun with reporters and Bridges’s staff.”
“We can’t exactly wait. There’s someone out there trying to track us down, with every intention of killing us. We need to figure out what Hal had ASAP. It’s the only chance of putting an end to this before Bridges’s man gets to us.”
“But it’s a small town. It won’t be easy keeping a low profile and not having anyone recognize us.”
They’d reached the car. He stopped and looked at her, his eyebrows lifting slightly, the corners of his mouth quirking in the beginnings of a smile. “Then I guess we’ll need some disguises.”
The words barely registered, the sight of that near-smile catching her completely off guard and overshadowing everything else. She couldn’t think, couldn’t begin to process any new information. She could only stare helplessly into his face as the breath lodged in her throat, her heart doing a strange lurch in her chest, then quickly picking up speed.
It certainly wasn’t much of a smile, just a slight curving of his mouth, combined with a wry sparkle in his eyes, yet somehow that only added to its impact, giving it a lazy quality that only made it sexier. It transformed him, freeing his features from the pain and tension that had weighed on him from the moment she’d met him. With them, he’d still been incredibly good-looking; without them, he was absolutely devastating. For the first time, she caught a glimpse of the dashing Jason Stone she’d heard so much about, and he was every bit as promised.
Wow.
The smile gradually faded, the amused gleam in his eyes replaced by something else, something that sent a fresh rush of emotion shooting through her. His gaze slowly stroked over her face. She couldn’t read his expression, couldn’t tell what he was thinking as she peered up at him. She could barely think herself as she stood there under his scrutiny, her heart pounding in her chest, her mouth bone-dry as his eyes pored over her with painstaking thoroughness. It was as though he was searching for something, though she couldn’t imagine what.
He finally lowered his gaze, severing the connection between them so quickly she nearly rocked back on her heels from the shock of it. “We should get a move on,” he said roughly. “If we’re going to do this, we have a lot to take care of tonight.”
Audrey cleared her throat. “Right,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t sound nearly as strained to his ears as it did to her own. “Let’s go.”
Without another glance at her, Stone headed toward the driver’s side of the vehicle. Audrey took a deep breath before moving, trying to understand what had just happened, the reaction she’d just had, the strength of it. It was inexplicable. It made no sense given the circumstances.
Yet it had been there all the same. Attraction. Awareness. Something much fiercer than anything she’d felt in a long time, the feeling as devastating as the man who’d so briefly stood before her. The memory of it was enough to bring the feeling back to her and send her adrenaline spiking.
She drew in another breath and did her best to shake off the feeling. They didn’t have time for this. She was coasting on fumes, surviving on too much coffee and too little sleep. Obviously, she wasn’t thinking clearly. That was all it was. She just needed to get some rest.
She chose to ignore the fact that she’d never felt more awake in the past three days than she did right now. Her heart was thudding, her skin was practically buzzing. Her body certainly wanted something all right—but sleep wasn’t it.
Not by a long shot.
Chapter Four
Seated at her dressing table, Julia Bridges stared into the mirror and watched her husband pack his suitcase on the bed behind her. She let a smile play against her lips, hoping the expression sufficiently hid her unease.
“We’re not leaving for a few days,” she said with a lightness that sounded false to her ears. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you pack for a trip so early.”
“It’s going to be a busy few days,” Rich said absently, without looking at her. “I’d rather take care of it now, while I have some time, than to have to do it at the last minute.”
“I could have done it for you. I’ve done it before,” she pointed out.
“That’s not necessary. I can do it myself.”
There was no harshness in the words. There was nothing at all as he continued placing clothes in the bag.
Despite her words, she wasn’t really surprised by his actions. He did always like to be prepared, and they were heading into one of the biggest days of his life.
This time though, she wouldn’t mind if he wasn’t quite so efficient. His actions only reminded her of what was coming, where they were going, and she would never be completely prepared for that.
They were going to Barrett’s Mill, that godawful little town she would love to never set foot in again. If there was any way she could avoid it, she would.
But then, she’d learned long ago that sometimes a person had to do exactly what was necessary, no matter how distasteful, to get what they wanted.
Oh, yes,
she thought as she met her clear gaze in the mirror. She was an expert when it came to that.
So she would go back there with him. She would stand behind him as he announced his intention to run for the presidency. She would smile and shake hands and pose for a million pictures. Then she would get out of that town the first possible moment.
If Rich felt the slightest discomfort himself about going back there, he didn’t show it. But then, he had no reason to. He’d been in on the decision to begin the campaign there from the beginning.
Not to mention he wasn’t showing her much of anything lately. He’d withdrawn into himself over the past few days, the closer they came to the big event and the announcement everyone was expecting and waiting for. In public, he was the same genial, charismatic figure he always was, but when they were alone, he was distracted, closed off. He seldom confided in her anymore, barely spoke at all. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
It was an uncomfortable feeling that put her on edge. She knew their marriage hadn’t gotten off to the best start—he hadn’t wanted to marry her; she’d simply left him no choice. But in the years since, the bond between them had grown and strengthened. She was the one person who knew him better than any other, who kept all his secrets just as she’d promised when he married her. He knew he could trust her more than anyone else.
Or so she’d thought. But now he seemed to be pulling away, retreating into himself at the worst possible time. This was everything they’d worked toward for so long, the end result of everything they’d done. They were so close. She wished he would look at her, smile at her, give her some indication everything would be all right.
He did none of those things. He finished packing the bag, zipped it up and placed it on the floor, then moved into the closet to retrieve another. Not once did he glance in her direction, nor did he say a word as he turned and walked away from her.
Staring at his retreating back, Julia fought another ripple of unease.
She always thought she knew him better than anyone, but at times like these she wondered if she really knew him at all.
S
TONE HESITATED
before opening the motel room door, his fingers tightening on the paper bag clenched in his right hand. He sent a glance behind him to make sure no one was paying him any particular attention, but didn’t see anyone. The lot was nearly empty, with only a couple cars parked in front of the building. He didn’t think he’d been followed back to the motel, but he couldn’t be too cautious.
He still paused before entering the room, though he knew full well his reluctance had nothing to do with the potential presence of any watchers.
After leaving D.C., they’d headed into Virginia, stopping to buy some clothes and materials to disguise their appearances, then checking in to a motel on the way to Barrett’s Mill. Stone had left Audrey to clean up and change while he went out to get some food. He could have picked up the food when they’d made the rest of their purchases, but he needed some time away from her. He had to figure out how to broach the topic that had been weighing on his mind since they’d left D.C.
A half hour later, he was no closer to an answer.
She wasn’t going to like what he had to say.
That wasn’t going to keep him from saying it.
With a sigh, he unlocked the door and pushed it open. “I’m back,” he said immediately, so she wouldn’t be concerned. At first there was no answer. The room was small, barely big enough to fit the two single beds, and she was nowhere in sight. His eyes automatically went to the open bathroom door, a light shining inside it. “Audrey?”
“In here,” her voice, slightly muffled, came from the bathroom.
The sound was muted, barely audible, and a whisper of concern slid through him. Why did she sound like that? Was something wrong?
Dropping the bag on the dresser next to the TV, he quickly and quietly made his way across the room and rounded the end of the far bed to reach the bathroom door. Nerves on alert, he slowly leaned over and peered inside.
And came to a dead stop.
She was fine. She was more than fine. She stood in front of the bathroom mirror, her eyes pinned on her reflection as she slowly worked her fingers through her hair. The smell he’d barely registered as he’d approached the bathroom finally sank in. It was hair dye. She was coloring her hair with the dye they’d bought on the way there, changing it from blond to dark brown. She’d cut her hair so it barely reached the nape of her neck, but it was still thick, and from the furrowing of her brow and the way she was gently biting her lip, she wasn’t having the easiest time of it. She was concentrating carefully on what she was doing. That was the reason for her muffled answer, nothing more.
As soon as he realized she was all right, he should have backed away from the door and left her alone. He knew it. But knowing it didn’t get his legs to move or his eyes to look away.
She was wearing only a thin T-shirt and a pair of shorts that barely reached midthigh. The shirt clung to her curves, clearly outlining every one. Even as he registered that fact, she shifted her weight and the bottom of the shorts slid higher, drawing his attention and revealing a few more centimeters of thigh. His gaze frozen, he looked a hell of a lot longer than he had any business doing before he managed to drag his eyes back to her face.
He still couldn’t move, tension spreading through him and holding him in place. It seemed like he could barely swallow, his throat too damn tight. As he watched her struggle with the dye, he had a feeling she hadn’t done this before. With hair the color of hers—that rich natural blond so many others dyed
their
hair to achieve—she’d probably never felt the need. Some of the dye had already dripped onto the shoulders of her T-shirt. He guessed that must be why she was wearing so little when he knew he’d bought her more clothes than what she had on. She likely hadn’t wanted to risk ruining too much of her limited wardrobe.
The urge rose within him to step forward and offer to help her. It was the decent thing to do. But there was nothing decent about the feeling that spiked through him at the mere thought of moving his hands through her hair, of listening to the soft hitch of her breath as he worked the strands through his fingers, of being that close to her…
He recognized the feeling all too well. It was the same feeling he’d had on the street outside Franklin’s house when he’d suddenly found himself peering into her eyes. The heat spreading through his system. The tightness in his chest.
Yeah, he recognized the feeling. He just didn’t know why the hell it was happening now.
Okay, she was an attractive woman. A lot more than just attractive, if he wanted to be honest about it—which he damn well didn’t. He understood that much. But it had been a long time since he’d felt anything for any woman, let alone something this strong. Well over two years now. Ever since Lisa died.
No. Ever since Lisa was murdered, and Megan and Morgan with her.
The reminder slammed into him, bringing back the pain, the guilt. It should have been enough to kill his reaction to this woman, but it wasn’t. Not entirely.
He hadn’t felt much of anything since that day. Never really thought he would again. Hadn’t wanted to, either.
And yet here it was, because of a woman he’d just met. He couldn’t explain it. He damn well didn’t like it.
All the more reason to say what he needed to.
“Everything okay?” she asked suddenly, without taking her eyes off the mirror. “Did you find some food?”
He blinked, startled, and wondered how long he’d been standing there before she’d decided to say something. He somehow managed to make his throat move. “Yeah.”
“Spot any trouble?”
“No.”
“Then why do you sound so uneasy?”
He grimaced. Cues didn’t come much better than that. “Look, I’ve been thinking…”
“About what?” she prompted after a moment when he didn’t continue.
“About what you said earlier about how risky it is to be going to Barrett’s Mill.”
“You don’t want to go anymore?”
“No, I’m not sure
you
should go. It might be too dangerous. It would be safer if we found a place for you to hole up for a while until I get to the bottom of this.”
She arched a brow. “So I get to sit around twiddling my thumbs and slowly going out of my mind, waiting for someone to either kill me or for you to take care of everything for me? No thanks.”
“I can handle this myself.”
“I’m sure you can, but the two of us working on this means we’re likely to get to the bottom of it twice as fast.” She shot him a look in the mirror. “I’m not completely without experience, you know. I was a journalism major in college and worked for three years at a daily paper.”
Yes, he did know that. He knew a lot more about her than he suspected she had any idea of. She was an only child. After her parents were killed in a small plane crash when she was eleven, she was given over to the custody of her sole remaining relative, Hal, her maternal uncle. Hal hadn’t known what to do with an eleven-year-old girl, not to mention that he’d always been far too busy with his career to have time for anyone else, which was one reason he never married. So he sent her to an exclusive boarding school where she’d spent the next seven years, before graduating and advancing to college. She seldom spent holidays with Hal, and most summers he’d managed to find some camp or program to send her to, rather than have her come home to him. It was partly why Jason was a little surprised at how determined she was to participate in the investigation. He knew she and Hal hadn’t been close. But then, this wasn’t just about Hal. Her life was at risk because of this, too.
Yes, she’d been a reporter, but she’d given it up to become a family photographer. She had her own small studio in Baltimore. “That was years ago,” he said. “You quit.”
She met his eyes in the mirror. “So did you,” she pointed out gently. “There are other reasons for quitting a job besides not being good at it. I didn’t quit because I couldn’t hack it, if that’s what you’re worried about. I was good at my job. My bosses liked me, and I was working my way up pretty quickly.”
“So why quit?”
She glanced away, and he watched her swallow before answering. “Because I realized it wasn’t what I wanted to do. It wasn’t my passion. I was doing it for the wrong reasons.”
The reporter in him almost asked what those reasons were, before he recognized they were none of his business.
“That’s not going to be an issue here,” Audrey continued. “Believe me, I have plenty of passion when it comes to this investigation. It’s my life that’s on the line here, it was my uncle who was murdered. I’m not quitting until the truth is revealed and Bridges has paid for what he’s done.”
He wouldn’t have expected her to say anything else. That didn’t mean he was happy about it, or intended to give up so easily.
Before he could try a different approach, she spoke first. “You know,” she began, her tone instantly making him wary. “If you’re worried about the danger, maybe you should hole up somewhere while
I
go to Barrett’s Mill by myself. After all, Bridges and his people aren’t going to be the only ones in town. Barrett’s Mill is going to be full of members of the media, some of whom will be your former colleagues. Don’t you think some of them will recognize you?”
“That’s why I bought some hair dye for myself, too,” he pointed out.
“Changing your hair from brown to black isn’t much of a disguise.”
“I also bought those sunglasses. I’ll keep them on whenever we’re in public. I’ve lost some weight over the past few years, so my face is leaner than it used to be. Put it all together, and that should enough to keep me from being recognized.”
Her eyes darted toward him in the mirror, flickering nervously over his face before moving away again. “I don’t know. I think you may be underestimating how…noticeable you are.”
From the hesitancy in both her words and her gaze, Stone had no trouble understanding what she meant. Women had reacted like that to him before. He’d never been one for false modesty, and he knew he was what most people would consider a handsome man. Or at least he had been. At one time it had mattered to him, and he’d taken great care with his appearance, as arrogant about that as he’d been about everything else. But it had been a long time since he’d given the slightest thought to his appearance, barely able to look at himself in the mirror. Given the way he felt, he wouldn’t have thought he still qualified as good-looking.