Read Power Play (An FBI Thriller) Online

Authors: Catherine Coulter

Power Play (An FBI Thriller) (31 page)

 

Natalie Black’s house

Late Monday afternoon

B
lessed parked his stolen Honda in the trees down the road from Ambassador Natalie Black’s mansion—and that’s what he’d call it, one of those huge three-storied in-your-face barns of a place they used to build a hundred years ago, with a wraparound porch and so many chimneys and big windows he’d hate to be the one to have to clean them. It was painted blue with brown trim—only two colors. His mama’s big Victorian back in Bricker’s Bowl was painted five different colors she’d picked out herself, and she’d had each color freshened every year. This place wasn’t as nice as his mama’s—how could it be, since it had only two colors and needed a paint job? It had a big, important-looking gate, though, with a call box and a guard’s station, for the big yahoos who lived in this hellhole of Washington. It was easier for them than actually doing something about the criminals who littered the streets. There were cameras, too, he saw, and men in dark suits at the gate and on the grounds. They were there to protect the big-shot ambassador Black, he knew, the woman he’d seen on the TV news shows.

Well, his mama had been a big shot, too, in Bricker’s Bowl, but she hadn’t closed herself in with a fancy high fence and a guard gate. Nope, she’d been welcoming, especially the local folk who had touched up the paint on the house every year, planted her spring flowers, and washed her Cadillac every week, with only a little nudging reminder from Blessed. He remembered the local teenagers, probably there on a bet, to gawk at that awesome house, remembered how afraid they were that they might get caught. He’d always liked that slick of fear he saw on all those faces. He wondered what had happened to his mama’s house. He wondered what Mama’s house looked like now. Were there strangers living there? Or maybe it was dark and moldy now, Grace’s paintings all covered with dust.

The family graveyard behind the house had to still be there. He remembered how quiet and serene it was under its canopy of trees, which always kept the gravestones cool to the touch. Grace should be buried there, comfortable in the black loamy earth with his family, but he wasn’t. Mama wasn’t buried there, either, and that wasn’t right. He missed his family. He missed the cheesecake his mama had served him and Grace every night.

He saw a light blue Ford moving past him. It was the ambassador’s daughter—Perry Black, the sportswriter, and what sort of girl did something like that? He watched her gloved hand reach out, press the intercom button, since the guardhouse was empty. The gates swung smoothly open and the car went through, the daughter giving a little wave toward the camera.

Blessed pulled a bottle of water out of the Honda and drank deep.

He was cold again, even in his beautiful camel coat, and he
stuck his hands in his pockets. He wasn’t here for the girl, he was here for Savich. He’d be patient and wait.

Only a few minutes later, he saw the red Porsche, Savich’s red Porsche. He knew they would come. He checked his watch. He had to know how long it would take him to get to Morganville.

 

N
atalie hung up her suit, placed her heels in their box in the closet, and pulled on her sweats. All the interviews here in Washington, then the trip to New York and the appearance at the General Assembly that morning, and, finally, the horrible news that someone had tried to kill Perry last night, had drained her dry. She was exhausted, her brain numb. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed, bury herself in a pile of blankets, and escape into blankness. That wasn’t going to happen. She couldn’t fall asleep if she tried. Her brain would squirrel about madly with horrible visions of Perry lying dead, with a killer standing over her she couldn’t make out, only a sinister shadow. She couldn’t stand it.

She’d felt only relief and hope after she’d left the podium at the UN. Her speech had gone well and Arliss had been pleased. The president had called her, congratulated her. It had felt good. It was only on her way to JFK with two DS agents escorting her that she’d had time to call Perry. Perry had kept the news from her until then.

She realized she was shaking, and drew several deep, calming breaths. Falling apart wasn’t an option; it wouldn’t help anything. She had to get hold of herself. Perry and Davis were both fine. Perry would be here soon and tell her all about it.

She looked toward the bedroom window, remembering the gut-churning fear when George’s son William had tried to climb into her room. She wondered if he’d seen Arliss introducing her at the UN, calling her an American heroine. Had he watched any of the interviews? Did he still believe she was responsible for his father’s death?

Her cell phone rang. It was Connie, at the hospital with Hooley, telling her Hooley was better today and congratulating her on her interviews. Some good news, she thought. When she punched off, she called Perry again, got voice mail.

She stood, indecisive, in the middle of her bedroom, alternately looking at the bedroom window and down at her thick white socks. She heard Luis’s voice outside her bedroom door.

Perry was here. She shoved her feet into slippers and went downstairs to see Perry standing in the huge entrance hall, unwrapping the wool scarf from around her neck.

Her daughter saw her and yelled, “You were great, Mom, great!” And Perry was hugging her, kissing her, laughing, hugging her again. “You’ve got to be exhausted, I mean, jetting off to New York and back again. Go back on upstairs, I’ll get you some tea. I’ll bet you haven’t eaten, either. How about some toast with peanut butter?”

Natalie stared at her, then she took Perry’s beloved face between her hands and held her still. “Someone tried to kill you and Davis last night and you didn’t tell me. You didn’t tell me until my talk was over this morning. And you want to make me some peanut-butter toast?”

“I’m sorry, Mom, really, but the last thing you needed was to hear about the attack before you gave your speech. I talked it over
with Dillon and Davis, and everyone thought it would be better to wait.

“I’m all right. Davis is all right. We spent the night here, since my condo is shot up, missing windows, and covered with crime scene tape. It’s a mess.” She put her hands over her mother’s. “Really, Mom, I’m okay.” She hugged her tightly against her. “We’ll both be okay, Mom, really, you’ll see.”

Natalie stepped back. “I want you and Davis to remain here, with me.”

“We’ve got to go back to my condo so I can pack some things, but yes, we’ll be back here. I met your two DS agents. I’m glad Luis’s still here, though. At least you’re safe now. The place is a fortress.”

“You’ll be safe, too,” Natalie said, and hugged her back.

Perry said, “I was at work this morning, but everyone stopped to watch you at the UN. You were incredible. Arliss’s introduction was perfect. My mom the heroine, yes, perfect.”

“What does Davis say about last night?”

Perry’s face turned cold.

“What? What’s wrong? Was Davis hurt?”

“No, he wasn’t.” She started to say something else, thought better of it, and forced a smile. Natalie merely stared at her until Perry admitted, “I need to have a discussion with him, that’s all. Don’t worry about it.”

“What about?”

At the continued silence from her daughter, Natalie said, “Where is Davis? Is he speaking to the DS agents?”

“No. Davis had places to go, people to see this morning. I was assigned another agent.”

“Where is he?”

“His name is Agent Gregory, and I, ah, left him at the
Post
.”

“You ditched your guard? Why, for heaven’s sake, Perry?”

Good question,
Perry thought. She knew it would sound seriously lame, but still she said, “Agent Gregory is older. He meant well, I’m sure, but he wanted to play my father and give me advice on everything from crime in D.C. to my sports column. I tried to hunker down to my work, but after a while, I, well, I wanted some peace, so I left and came directly here. I called him on the way so he knows I’m okay.”

“Not very adult of you, Perry.”

“I know, but I was very careful, and there wasn’t a problem. And now we’re both surrounded by State Department agents and Luis.”

Especially Luis,
Natalie thought. He could probably handcuff the two DS agents together and walk away whistling. She nodded. “They’ve been my shadows. The woman agent even comes into public bathrooms with me. Arliss took an earlier flight, told me something had come up she had to see to. She didn’t say what new world problem had jumped out from under the rug at her.”

Perry knew what the problem was, but she kept still. Her mother didn’t need any more to deal with at the moment. As for Davis, the jackass, when he showed up here, and she knew he would as soon as he could, she was going to hang him out to dry. She said, “Any word on William?”

Natalie shook her head. “No one’s told me.”

“I’d really like to catch up with him and maybe break his legs.”

Natalie cupped her daughter’s face between her hands. “You sound like your father. Do you remember he used to say things
like that when he was angry? As a joke, really. As for me, I want to know why he’s doing this. Let’s get some tea.”

Luis came into the kitchen a few minutes later. “Mrs. Black, Agents Savich and Sherlock are here. They’re in the living room, talking with the DS agents.”

“I think hot tea is in order,” Natalie said.

“Where’s Davis?” she asked, the moment she stepped into the living room.

“He’ll be here shortly,” Savich said. He accepted a cup of the strong, rich black tea.

Sherlock said, “He’s not happy, Perry. Agent Gregory called him. No, I don’t want explanations; you can give them to Davis.”

Savich said, “Natalie, I’m very sorry about the attack on Perry last night. Believe me, we’re working hard on it.”

Sherlock said, “You were magnificent, Natalie, the interviews, your speech at the UN. Please, don’t worry. Perry’s here now for the duration and you’re both well protected.”

Natalie sat forward, her own teacup on her knee. “I got the impression from Arliss—a fleeting look she gave me—that her hurrying back here might have something to do with me. Do you know anything about that?”

She was sharp, Sherlock thought, and smiled. “Davis and Agent Hammersmith interviewed Day Abbott at his office about the shooting last night. Evidently, he wasn’t pleased and called his mother. That’s why she came back earlier, I think, to call us into her office and introduce us to her attorneys.”

Savich said, “I think Davis might be with Agent Gregory, discussing your escape.”

Sherlock said, “Not very bright of you, Perry, to duck out on him.”

“I texted both Agent Gregory and Davis. They know I’m fine.”

Savich walked up to her, got in her face. “Listen to me, Perry, and take my words to heart. You will wear Davis like a coat. The last thing your mother needs is to have to worry more about your safety. Don’t you understand she’s already worried enough?”

Perry looked stricken, he saw it.
Good.
“We need to go to the office. Stay put.” They nodded to Natalie and the DS agents and left.

As they heard the Porsche engine rev, Perry said to her mother, “His voice was perfectly nice, but I felt like a kid in the principal’s office. I knew if I argued, I wouldn’t like what happened next.” She sighed. “I guess he’s right. I don’t want you to worry about me, Mom. Actually, I was upset at Davis—”

A metal-grinding punk-rock song blasted out of Perry’s cell phone. Perry pulled it out of her leather jacket pocket and yelled into the phone, “Davis, you moron. You put ‘See No Evil’ on my cell? No, not important. I’m here with Mom and Luis and two DS agents. I’m fine, Mom’s fine. You get your butt here, Davis. I want to talk to you.”

 

L
uis, open the damned gate or I’m driving my Jeep right through it!”

“Good luck with that,” Luis answered through the intercom, and hit the gate button on the control pad outside the living room. Davis drove past the DS agent standing in the driveway with only a nod.

A minute later, they heard Davis say a few words to the DS agent in the foyer before he burst into the room. He looked ready to explode with righteous anger, but at the sight of Natalie and Luis together with Perry, all of them looking at him, he calmed himself. He nodded to Natalie, to Luis, walked up to Perry, looked her in the eye and said, “Agent Gregory was guarding you at the
Post
and the next thing he knows, you’re gone, vanished, like some schoolkid sneaking out for a smoke.

“You planned it. You pretended you were working hard on your laptop so he would forget you for a couple of minutes. Gregory likes talking to people. You saw that, and so you waited until he got into it with a crime writer, and when he looked up, you were gone. You made him look like a fool when he had to call it in. You disrupted the CAU, forced me to come out here to find you.” His voice had risen. He wanted to shake her but couldn’t, not with her mother standing six feet away. “You want to tell me your problem?”

He was right, but that wasn’t the point. “That’s nothing compared to what you did, you jackass.”

“What I did? What are you talking about?” Davis heard Natalie clear her throat and turned. “Oh, Natalie, sorry to be rude. You were great at the UN. But I gotta tell you, you should give me some help here; your rabbit-brain daughter could use a bit more discipline.”

“Don’t you dare bring my mother in on this!”

“All right. Tell me.”

“You went to see one of my best friends for forever and you accused him of trying to murder me!”

“You mean Day Abbott? I was doing my job, and this is not the time or place to get into that.” He shot a look at Natalie, who was shaking her head at him. She said, “Tell her why, Davis.”

“All right. Griffin and I interviewed Day Abbott, and the interview got a bit personal, so his mama, Secretary of State Abbott, called us in on the carpet in her office. It’s over and done with. I didn’t accuse him of murdering anyone. Your best friend was the jackass, not me.”

Davis looked at the DS agent who had followed him into the living room and at Luis, who were both trying not to be there, and said to Natalie and Perry, “The important thing is that both of you are safe. Agent Gregory’s on his way over. I’m done here, and I’ve got stuff to do,” and he turned around and walked toward the living room door.

He stopped cold when he heard the ambassador’s iron voice sounding like the nuns in his Catholic grade school. “Listen to me, Davis, you walk out that door and I’ll chase you down and pull out your eyebrows, one at a time.”

He turned slowly to face her. “Natalie, it was your daughter
who decided to play games because she’s angry with me. I got the message. I don’t want her killed on my watch, and that’s what could have happened. She needs an agent she’s willing to work with to protect her. I’m not it.”

“You don’t know my daughter as well as you think you do, Davis,” Natalie said. “You are definitely that agent. Tell you what, I’ll have Luis handcuff you to Perry and the two of you can fight it out. How does that sound? Think about this, Davis, think carefully, because I don’t mean to lose this argument.”

Davis couldn’t help it, he smiled at her. “Would you still marry me if I didn’t have any eyebrows?”

Natalie said, “Marry you, Davis? No, I wouldn’t want my daughter to consider matricide.”

Natalie’s words bloomed tall and proud in the middle of the silent room. He heard Perry gasp and sputter behind him. Without a word, she clomped out of the living room.

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