A Shot of Red (11 page)

Chapter Twelve

Now that she had honestly told Nora she was going to Switzerland, Mia had to lie to everyone else. She hated having to do it, but she had no choice. The only thing easing her mind at all was that Ellen would do an excellent job as the One Shot campaign spokeswoman, and now she would get her chance.

Unless they send Matthew…

The thought was nearly enough to change Mia’s mind, but not quite. She hoped to make a quick trip to Switzerland and be back on the PR team in several days. That was about all the time she could buy with the ruse she had planned. It was already Wednesday, and there were no television appearances scheduled for the weekend. Her goal was to be back by Sunday. Most cases of the flu lasted longer than that.

Now she had to decide what to tell Lila, because she couldn’t leave without telling her
something
—even if it was the lie that she had come down with the flu. Just thinking about lying to her grandmother twisted Mia’s stomach into a knot. The woman had an uncanny ability to spot a lie and had predicted lots of them even before they’d been told. The last thing Mia wanted to do was erode the trust between them.

But Mia had to consider the question she’d been avoiding like a third rail. Could Lila be involved in whatever Brent had been working to uncover? It seemed impossible to imagine her grandmother caught up in anything that involved a murder.

But she might have information that could lead to a killer.

Mia’s best bet was to show Lila Brent’s video. Not only to let her in on what was going on, but also because it would compel her to tell Mia if anything had gone wrong with the vaccine along the way. If it had, and Lila had known about it, she’d no doubt made things right. Moncure Therapeutics was her heart and soul. She’d sat proudly on stage at the launch press conference and taken the vaccine on prime-time television, after all.

Mia mulled over the possibility. If Lila knew the situation, she might cover for Mia until she returned. Didn’t Moncure have a lot at stake if Brent’s claim about the vaccine was true? Lila would demand to learn the truth, but would she approve of Mia being the person to investigate?

Mia glanced at the clock. She had to be at the airport in less than two hours—a long time in some places, but not much in New York City. If she was going to try to recruit Lila for her cause, now was the time. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip and furrowed her brow, wondering if she could go this totally alone.

When it came down to it, Mia didn’t care what everyone else thought—
except maybe Gio
. But she needed her grandmother to support what she was doing. Lila had been one of the few who’d understood why Mia had wanted to go work in Haiti, although she hadn’t known all the reasons why.

Mia squeezed her eyes closed. She wanted validation. She needed an ally—which she didn’t get with Gio. Eyes wide-open now, she picked up her new phone and dialed Claude’s number. No way would she contact Lila directly…just in case.

Claude’s phone rang several times and the call diverted to voicemail. Mia sighed. He wasn’t the type to answer a call from an unknown number. She tried twice more. No answer. She debated whether to just call Lila, but took a deep breath and reminded herself that acting on impulse might reveal her new number to someone tracking her. She paused a second, the gravity of her situation sinking in. Someone had likely murdered Brent. A killer with allies who turned a blind eye to a murder and orchestrated a cover-up. Mia shuddered. She had no clue how to go up against people like that…but she had to try.

She clutched her phone tightly and called Claude one more time. Just when she was certain his voicemail was going to kick in, he answered.

“Hello.”

“Hi, Claude. It’s Mia.”

“But that isn’t Mia’s phone you’re calling from,” he said, sounding amused. She could almost see the twinkle in his eyes as if he was ready for an entertaining tale about how she’d lost or broken her company phone.

“Long story.”

“All I’ve got is time.”

Mia could hear the smile in his voice. “I wish I could say the same. As much as I’d like to chat, I really need to talk to Lila.”

He chuckled. “Then why’d you call me four times when you could’ve called her once?”

“She’ll have to explain that to you later,” Mia said without a trace of humor in her voice.

“I see.” Claude seemed to understand immediately that something serious was going on, although Mia was certain he would never guess what. “She just got home a few minutes ago. I’ll hand you off to her in a second. But first I have to know if you’re okay.”

Mia’s heart soared. He and Lila cared about her—just as her dad used to—and although she’d been miles and oceans away from them recently, she’d always felt their love. “I am…”
Right now.
Tomorrow might be a different story.

“I don’t like the tremor in your voice. But if you say you’re okay, I’ll have to believe you.”

Mia nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. She was thankful he never pried, just waited patiently for her to reach out if she needed him. “Thanks, Claude.”

“You take care.” His accent soothed her nerves, but only for a moment. Lila would be on the line within seconds. Mia had the feeling that her grandmother would look back on this phone call and—despite a looming flu epidemic—think of how much better things had been before she’d heard what Mia was about to tell her.

…

Mia fired up her new laptop, her pulse thrumming in her temples. She inserted the flash card and cued up Brent’s video, her hand a little shaky. She hurried and Skyped Lila on Claude’s computer before she lost her nerve.

“You have me worried,” Lila said, her brow drawn. Even at the end of what had to have been a grueling workday, she looked alert and attentive.

“I hate to say it, but you should be.” Mia had debated on the best way to explain what was going on, and decided to let Brent speak for her. “I’m going to share my screen with you and show you a video.”

Lila frowned, and the video filled the screen. Mia got the same chilling feeling that she had each time she’d watched it, and she imagined the same sensation creeping over Lila as Brent spoke and the video neared the end. “I still love you, Mia,” he said. “Moncure Therapeutics is your future. Don’t let them steal it from you.”

A dagger plunged into Mia’s heart, even though she’d known that was coming. No matter how much she heard it repeated, the wound felt fresh every time. She switched the screen back to Lila, who looked paler and more wide-eyed than she had moments ago.

“Where did you get that video?” Lila asked. “And when? And who gave it to you?”

“I understand that you have a lot of questions, but I can’t answer them without putting other people in danger. That’s why I didn’t call you on your phone, or Skype you on your computer. I didn’t use my company phone or computer, either. Do you have any idea what Brent’s talking about?”

Lila shook her head, her lips pursed. “I’m not sure there’s any truth to what he said about Moncure.”

“I wasn’t there at the time, but I haven’t seen evidence of anything sketchy going on. I might’ve been able to doubt it if I hadn’t learned the suspicious story surrounding his death.”

“What story?”

“Brent lied about going to a friend’s funeral in Switzerland. There was no friend. No funeral. No ashes to spread. So how did he die from falling while he was spreading his friend’s ashes on top of Mount Pilatus?”

“No sense in asking how you learned that?”

Mia wasn’t surprised at the composure Lila maintained after seeing the video and hearing her story. Becoming immediately emotional and overreacting wasn’t her CEO style. She never would’ve been able to rise to her level of success otherwise. No doubt Lila would want to work through this calmly, one step at a time.

“None,” Mia said. “But if what he says in the video is true, we need to know what’s going on at Moncure—even if it’s done and buried. We can’t leave this alone. Brent was a valued employee.” Her throat thickened with emotion. “And I loved him.” She bowed her head. “Just not enough.”

“You can’t make yourself love someone, sweetheart.”

“I realize that, but I can still do one last thing for Brent—find out what he died looking for, and who killed him.”

Lila’s expression became serious. Mia had seen the same look before as her grandmother had mulled over sensitive information that might have profound personal and professional repercussions. Best to give her time and not pile on with any new arguments or pleas.

Minutes seemed to tick past. Mia breathed deeply, trying not to let Lila see her stress. It occurred to her that she should’ve consulted Lila before she bought her airline ticket to Switzerland, and before she told Nora she was going. But if Lila told her not to go, would that change her mind?

“We should probably hire a private investigator,” Lila said finally.

Mia resisted the urge to shake her head. “I’m worried about the risk involved with that. I can’t expose my sources in good conscience, especially to a stranger. If what Brent says is true, and someone was willing to kill him to keep a secret, then what’s to stop them from murdering other innocent people?”

Lila blinked several times. Her entire career had been focused on saving people’s lives and running a company that was above reproach. Clearly the idea of anyone at Moncure Therapeutics being even peripherally involved in a murder and cover-up—because of their vaccine—stretched her beyond her usual level of composure.

“One more thing.” Mia leveled her gaze on the webcam. “Whatever Brent found, he left in a safe-deposit box in a bank in Lucerne. If nothing else, we need to see what’s in that box and then decide what to do.”

“More information from a nameless source?” Usually the one with all the knowledge and power, Lila was clearly uncomfortable with the tables turned.

Mia liked it better when Lila was in charge, but this time it was all on her. “There’s only one person beside Brent who can access the safe-deposit box.”

“You?”

Mia nodded slowly. “And nobody can know.”

Lila jotted down a couple of notes and tapped her pen on the pad of paper. “I need to give this some thought.”

“There’s not a lot of time for that.” Mia sounded much calmer than she felt. “We can’t risk not knowing what might be going on at Moncure that concerned Brent enough for him to risk his life…and die. What the hell could be going on with the vaccine that’s so awful—and we have no idea?” Melodrama would get her nowhere with Lila, but invoking the memory of her father—Lila’s son—just might. “If Dad was still alive and learned about something like this, he’d be going ballistic.”

Lila’s eyes narrowed. Fearful that she’d gone too far, Mia looked away from the camera. She often relied on memories of her father to get her through, but using them as a tactic had probably crossed the line.

Sorry, Dad.

“But we can’t afford for you to go right now,” Lila said. “We need you on the One Shot PR campaign.”

“We can’t afford for me
not
to go right now. We can’t risk not knowing. If nothing else, I’ll go see what Brent left for me and come right back.”

“I think we could push it to the weekend when there aren’t any appearances on your schedule.”

Mia hated that Lila’s sense of urgency wasn’t the same as hers, but she seemed to be coming around. “The bank is closed on weekends.”

“Surely you could make arrangements.”

Mia glanced at the time on her screen. She needed to leave soon or she wouldn’t make it to the airport in time. “I have.”

“I don’t like the sound of that, Mia.”

“No one can know about this, and I even hesitated to tell you. But I don’t want secrets between us, and I definitely don’t want lies.” Mia set her chin. “I’m flying to Switzerland tonight. I faked flu symptoms and sent Ellen and Dr. Ogden ahead to L.A. Told them I’d fly out tomorrow if I felt better. I’ve set it up where everyone could be led to believe I’m laid up in New York City. Ellen can do the One Shot appearances. She deserves the job, anyway. Or send Matthew.” Mia’s being willing to allow Matthew to take over her appearance schedule had to show Lila how much this meant to her. “I have to do this for Brent.” She looked pleadingly into the webcam. “And for the company. I need you to help me pull it off.”

Chapter Thirteen

Gio’s day had been in swift decline since the highlight of spending the early-morning hours with Mia in his bed. He’d been away from DC less than twenty-four hours, yet he felt out of touch and disconnected as if it had been weeks. The tug-of-war going on in his conscience was wearing him out. He’d decided not to make the impulsive mistake of revealing Brent English’s suspicions about the vaccine to Senator Moncure just minutes after he’d gotten his ass chewed. The timing was just wrong. But he still thought she should know.

His parents had raised him to be forthright and honest. They credited their thirty-nine-year marriage to being truthful with each other, and he’d watched it work for them his whole life. It had worked for him too—in school and sports and friendships. He’d argue that’s how he’d gotten so far in his career, too. In addition to the long hours, hard work, and random good luck, he had a reputation as a straight shooter—a rarity considering all the bullshitters working on Capitol Hill.

But the straight shooter in him remembered Mia’s plea for time. Clearly the last people she would want to find out about Brent’s video were her mother and Secretary Dartmouth. Was it more important for him to be forthright with them, or to honor Mia’s request? While Gio debated, the death toll rose. It was still early, but he worried if the vaccine was going to be effective. If not, had Brent known why? Gio’s decision not to tell the senator about Brent’s video might literally mean life and death for people.

The stress of his choice and the oppressive heat in the office had him desperate for some fresh air. He rubbed his forehead and dragged his hand down his face. A grueling workout might do him some good if he had the time for one. Soon, he promised himself, but it wouldn’t be tonight. A brisk walk would have to do.

Outside of the Russell Senate Office Building, Gio took a deep breath of the chilly November air and gazed at the lamplit rolling park space across the street. He’d wandered alone along those sidewalks contemplating strategy too many times to count. Tonight, he wished he could clear his mind and not think about anything.

Behind him, the doors of the building opened as he walked away. A couple pairs of footsteps scuffed on the stairs.

“Gio?”

He heard this woman’s voice in his sleep, so there was no mistaking that one pair of footsteps belonged to Senator Moncure. Gio turned to see her and Richard Dartmouth looking as if they were hitting the town, as late as it was. They stopped at the base of the steps and Gio joined them.

“Headed out?” Secretary Dartmouth asked.

Gio tensed. He rarely left work this early, and he resented the implication. “Just getting some air.”

“Hotter than hell in there.” Secretary Dartmouth tipped his head toward the building.

“I’m glad we caught you,” Senator Moncure said. “A couple of things have changed.”

Gio’s stomach sank.

“Mia is sick with the flu,” she said with more disdain than concern.

A flash of panic shot through Gio. People of all ages were dying from the flu they were working so hard to contain. Mia seemed healthy enough to fight off a virus, but could she beat this one? He struggled to keep his expression neutral. “I’m sorry to hear that. She wasn’t feeling well this morning after the
Today
show. We’d all hoped she just needed some rest.” And he selfishly hoped he wouldn’t get the flu himself, considering how contagious it had proven to be. Coming down with the flu would be disastrous for his job, let alone his life. “Has she seen a doctor?”

“Lila sent someone to see her,” Senator Moncure said. “The doctor thinks he caught it in time. He’s given her medicine, but she still might have symptoms for a few days. She’s been advised not to travel for fear of spreading the virus, so she’ll stay in New York while she recovers.”

Secretary Dartmouth shook his head. “Could’ve been avoided if she’d just gotten a flu shot like she’s been telling everyone else to do. She works for the company, for God’s sake.”

Gio hoped there was worry beneath Secretary Dartmouth’s anger, but it hadn’t made its way into his voice. With everything that had been going on, and trying to keep the One Shot campaign on message and on schedule, Gio hadn’t gotten vaccinated either, so he really couldn’t fault Mia.

“I think she’ll be fine,” the senator said. “But it’s best we don’t let it leak that the One Shot spokesperson didn’t get vaccinated.”

Gio balled his fists inside his coat pockets. That would be a hell of trick to keep quiet if she happened to
die
. Maybe Mia had had a point this morning when they’d argued in her dressing room. This was about people’s lives, not about politics. Even when her own daughter was threatened with a deadly virus, the senator was thinking political strategy. What to leak and what to hide. Had she always been this way, or had something changed—or had Gio just been too immersed in it to see it clearly? No telling what she would’ve done with the information from Brent’s video if he’d told her about it.

“Yes, ma’am,” Gio said, afraid of what might come out of his mouth if he decided to say more.

“Matthew is headed to L.A. in the morning to take over Mia’s appearance schedule.” Senator Moncure nodded as if the idea pleased her.

That would definitely change the face of things. So much for the wow factor Mia added to the One Shot campaign. People surfing through channels would’ve stopped just to get a good look at her. No way would that happen with Matthew.

“If he can’t make it in time for tomorrow’s appearance,” Gio said, “Ellen would do a great job.”

“He’ll be there,” Secretary Dartmouth said flatly.

Senator Moncure aimed a pointed look at Gio. “So we don’t need you to go to L.A. Matthew can take the meetings you have scheduled there.”

Gio’s pulse rapid-fired. He narrowed his eyes and shifted his gaze from the senator to the secretary and back. “With the mayor’s office?”

What the hell?
He’d worked his ass off coordinating implementation of the One Shot campaign with the governments of major U.S. cities, and not for Matthew to swagger in and take over for him. Matthew was a slippery damn two-for-one, replacing him
and
Mia.

The senator nodded. “You’ll need to squeeze in time to brief him—the sooner the better. Give him a call and see when would work best for him.”

Was this the perfect storm, or a real-life nightmare? Gio debated arguing his case—asking if this was some kind of disciplinary action because he hadn’t convinced Mia to parrot a couple of talking points that got out just hours later—but he refrained. Once the senator made up her mind, she rarely changed it. He’d be wiser to swallow his anger and pride, take a walk, and regroup.

Gio nodded curtly. “Anything else?”

“Not until we get the numbers tomorrow.” Secretary Dartmouth’s expression turned darker, even in the dim light of the streetlamps. “Early word is that the death rate is rising faster, and case reporting is up in every region.” He sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. “It’s a nasty, highly contagious virus…”

And Mia has it!
Gio struggled to stand still. The worn path in the carpet in his office proved that stress compelled him to move. High stress called for his motorcycle. Maybe he’d take a ride instead of a walk.

Secretary Dartmouth pursed his lips, tightening his jowly face. He seemed to want to say something more but he couldn’t get the words out.

The senator reached for his hand and squeezed it, a rare public display of affection between them. She aimed a serious gaze at Gio. “It looks like we have an epidemic on our hands.”

Shit.

Was that really why they were sending Matthew to L.A. and keeping Gio here? Gio had a reputation for whipping up and implementing effective crisis communication plans. He already had one in place, anticipating the worst-case-scenario epidemic that was likely to become official tomorrow. Ironically, he was nowhere near as prepared for the crisis that whirred in his head right now, making it ache. Mia was sick. He couldn’t go to her, and couldn’t do anything to help her. No one but him knew how he felt about her, and he couldn’t afford to tell anyone. Except maybe his parents, whom he hoped like hell had gotten their vaccines. They were all he had…
except Mia.

“I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this,” Secretary Dartmouth said. “Especially on my watch.”

Gio couldn’t tell what seemed worse to the secretary—a raging flu epidemic killing people in escalating numbers by the day, or that a lot of the responsibility for it would fall on him.

His gaze cast downward, Secretary Dartmouth said, “Count on another press conference tomorrow. Only this one will involve the president.”

Blazing along the George Washington Parkway, Gio twisted the throttle on his motorcycle. Having blown the speed limit almost from the get-go, he pushed closer to reckless-driving territory. Maybe one thing could go his way tonight and the cops wouldn’t catch him. The cold air pricked his skin and burned his lungs, but he kept ratcheting up the speed. Thinking about Mia…

Was she really going to recover? And would she believe him if he told her she’d been right this morning, despite his argument? And that he’d kept quiet about Brent’s video?

Tell her…

Up ahead, a wooded pull-off area came into view and he was on it within seconds. He veered into the pull-off, hit the back brakes hard, and sent the bike into a skid. The bike hit a patch of gravel and fishtailed. Gio’s adrenaline shot to a nearly toxic level as he struggled to balance his weight and stop the bike. The parkway was desolate this time of night, especially in the pull-off areas. If he wrecked his bike here and couldn’t call for help, there’d be no telling when someone would find him. He managed to steady the bike enough to put down his foot, dragging the sole of his shoe across the gravelly pavement, the vibration painfully reverberating up his leg. At last, the bike stopped.

Gio’s heart slammed against his ribs and his breath came in gasps. broken into a sweat despite the temperature. He set the kickstand, got off the bike, and walked on shaky legs over to a lone picnic table. Sitting on top of the table, he took off his gloves and helmet and propped his feet on the bench. With his elbows on his knees, he put his face in his hands and warmed it with his breath.

The quiet of the night surrounded him, interrupted only by the ticking of the cooling motorcycle engine. He thought about where he’d been this time last night, reliving the scene in vivid detail. Mia lying naked beneath him on bright-white sheets in the haze of a night-light. Her hair, damp from the shower, cascaded over the swell of her breasts, her eyes fiery with desire, her lips lush and pink from his kisses. They’d taunted each other until he couldn’t wait another moment to take her, and her body told him she was eager, too. They’d waited months for this. He’d imagined it so many ways, but none as hot as it had proven to be already.

He’d kissed her tenderly, relaxing in a moment of sweet, sensual bliss before the unleashed abandon sure to overtake them. “God, I want you,” he’d said. “I’ve wanted you every single second since you left.”

He nudged one of his knees between hers and parted her legs. His blood rushed lower and his cock went rigid with the need to make her his again. Mia swiveled her hips beneath him and arched her back. “Please.” She bit her bottom lip, her eyes heavy with desire.

Gio’s heart thundered. He’d seen that look and heard that plea so many times in his dreams.

Mia combed her fingers through his hair and clutched the back of his neck, pulling him down until his pecs met her firm breasts. She kissed him deeply, each stroke of her tongue challenging his resolve to prolong this temptation.

“I’ve wanted you, too,” she said breathily, “for so long.” She held his gaze. The glint of vulnerability in her eyes shot straight to his soul. “Please don’t make me wait any longer.”

A car whisked past, snapping Gio off memory lane and back to the parkway. Last night, he’d had no idea Mia was coming down with the flu. Clearly she hadn’t either. Knowing that she’d been seen by a doctor eased some of his worry, but he still couldn’t help thinking about the growing number of people who were dying, and if the CDC, the government, and Moncure Therapeutics really had a handle on what was going on. Gio’s gut twisted. God forbid that Mia should die from this damn virus. The odds were already against them ever really being together, but he’d never even considered a scenario where she died.

He reached in his pocket, pulled out his phone, and called her. After several rings, Gio started giving up hope. She might be asleep, or she might’ve seen that it was him calling and decided not to answer. Another ring, and her voicemail picked up.

Dammit.

“This is Mia Moncure…”

He preferred her sexy, breathless voice to the professional one on the recording. Before he spoke, he reminded himself that his message would be archived in Moncure Therapeutics’ and the U.S. government’s voicemail systems, so it was best to keep it topline.

“Mia, it’s Gio. I heard you’re sick, and I’m worried. And I have a couple other things to tell you. Call me, okay?”