“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to have it come out like that. This has nothing to do with my mother. I simply want to find my father, and I was hoping that you might know something.”
“I'm sorry, Ms. McGarvey, I don't,” Dominique said. She picked up her telephone. “Sandy, get me a cab, please. I'll be leaving in a minute or two.”
“Ms. Kilbourne, I work for the Central Intelligence Agency. I think I could get an FBI Counterespionage unit down here to bring you in for questioning about a national security matter.”
“Go ahead,” Dominique said, unperturbed, hanging up.
“I work for Mr. Ryan, and I think he could pull a few strings.”
“Howard Ryan is an ungrateful son of a bitch whose life your father saved,” Dominique blurted angrily. “I was there, I saw it. So you can go back to Langley and tell him that if he wants to find Kirk McGarvey he can do it on his own. I certainly won't help him. Or you.”
Elizabeth was a little embarrassed, but she didn't let it show. “I don't know why I should be surprised by your reaction, Ms. Kilbourne. My father has terrible luck with women, but the ones he's attracted to are as strong willed as they are beautiful.”
“Thank you for the compliment, if that's what it is, but I still can't help you,” Dominique said coolly. “Now if you'll excuse me I have a luncheon appointment.”
Elizabeth glanced at the wall clock. “You have fifteen minutes to get to the Senate dining room, so you should have Sandy call over there and tell them you'll be late for lunch because something else has come up. It's a family emergency.”
“Get out of here.”
“You're going to help me find my father for the same reasons I have to find him before Ryan does. You're in love with him, or at least you were.”
Elizabeth had been guessing, but Dominique reacted as if she'd been shot, some of the light fading from her eyes.
“My father has a habit of walking out on the people he loves most, not
because he wants to be mean, but because he wants to protect us. Being around him can be dangerous.”
“You're telling me.”
“This time his life is on the line. I have some information that he has to have. Without it he could be walking into a trap.”
“Your father is an amazing man,” Dominique said.
“Yes, he is, Ms. Kilbourne,” Elizabeth said. “But he's just that. Only a man. Will you help me?”
Dominique thought a moment, then picked up the phone again. “Sandy, cancel that cab. Then call Senator Dobson and give him my apologies, but I won't be able to have lunch with him today. See if we can reschedule for later in the week.” Dominique looked at Elizabeth. “Everything is fine. But cancel my appointments for the remainder of the afternoon as well.”
“All that isn't necessary,” Elizabeth said when Dominique hung up. “I don't need your entire afternoon.”
“I do,” Dominique said bitterly. She went to a sideboard where she opened a bottle of white wine from a small refrigerator, poured two glasses, and brought them back.
“Thank you, Ms. Kilbourne,” Elizabeth said, taking one of the glasses.
“We better start using first names, otherwise it's going to become awkward,” Dominique said. She gave Elizabeth a bleak look. “I can see a lot of your father in your face, and in your voice. But I thought you were working for the United Nations.”
“I just started with the Company about six months ago. My father doesn't know yet.”
Dominique managed a faint smile. “I have a feeling he'll go through the roof when he does find out.”
Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh. “I think you're right. But first I have to find him.”
Dominique's face had sagged, but she picked herself up. “You father hurt me very much.”
“I'm sorry.”
Dominique waved her off. “It has nothing to do with you, except that he said the same thing to me last year that you just said. Being around him is dangerous. There are a lot of people from his past who could be gunning for him. There are a lot of old grudges on both sides of the Atlantic. Now you.”
“Have you heard from him in the past year?”
“No.”
“That's not like him.”
“When we parted we had some angry words. I told him that I would either have all of him, or I wanted nothing.”
“With my father that was a mistake, if you loved him.”
“I don't need some twenty-year-old giving advice to the lovelorn, even if
she is a McGarvey,” Dominique flared. “You've apparently inherited his manipulative trait as well.”
“I didn't come here to be your friend,” Elizabeth said harshly. “Although that would have been nice. How can I reach my father?”
“What has he done?”
“I can't tell you that, except to say that it's vitally important that I see him.”
“Is it the Russians?” Dominique demanded. “Has Viktor Yemlin popped up looking for his quid pro quo?”
“What are you talking about?” Elizabeth asked sharply, trying to hide her surprise.
“If you're going to play in your father's league, you'd better do your homework first. Yemlin is an old adversary who helped your father out last year. One thing I learned about the business is that nobody does anything for nothing. Your father expected he would show up sooner or later.”
“I can't answer that,” Elizabeth said.
Dominique started to say something, but Elizabeth overrode her.
“It may sound melodramatic, but the less you know the better off you'll be. Now I'll ask you once again, how can I reach my father.”
Dominique turned away. “I don't know,” she said. “At least not directly. But he did mention the names of two men he trusted with his life. One of them was Phil Carrara, who was killed. And the other was Otto Rencke, apparently some computer expert who's a black sheep. There was something about Twinkies, but I don't remember all the details.”
“Is he here in Washington?”
“He was. But he's in France now. Not in Paris but somewhere nearby.”
“Did my father give you his phone number, or e-mail address? Anything like that?”
“No,” Dominique said. “But apparently Rencke worked for the CIA once upon a time. He's supposed to be a genius whom everybody is afraid of. But if anybody would know how to get in touch with your father it would either be Rencke, or Yemlin. Beyond that I don't know anything, because if one of them had come to me trying to find your father I would have given them your name. Your father told me that there was only one woman in his life who he loved unreservedly, and who loved him the same way. It was you.”
“A father-daughter prerogative,” Elizabeth mumbled, masking her sudden emotion.
“He's a more complicated man than I thought, isn't he,” Dominique said desolately.
“You can't imagine,” Elizabeth replied.