Read Hearts in the Crosshairs Online
Authors: Susan Page Davis
“You’re working too hard.”
“No, I’m absolutely fine.” She smiled across at Naomi. “Where did you say you were taking Mom tomorrow?”
“She’d like to visit the new specialty stores at the Marketplace.”
“You’ll like that, Mom,” Jillian said. She was glad Naomi could spare the time to entertain her mother while business
claimed her own attention. Tomorrow, Andrew would drive her to Lewiston to see a new urban-renewal project.
When they had finished dessert, the three women moved upstairs to the family living room.
“What about this big charity event coming up, Jillian?” Vera asked.
“That’s not until June, but plans are taking shape. There’ll be a big fund-raiser to bring in money to expand the state library. All of the living former governors have been invited, and I’ll entertain them and their wives here, in the state dining room, along with our congressional delegation.”
“That’s very exciting.” Her mother smiled. “I’d love to be here. What are you going to wear?”
“I haven’t even thought about it,” Jillian confessed.
“You need a new gown,” Naomi said.
“Well, I’ve still got the one I didn’t wear for the inaugural ball.”
“No, no, no,” her mother cried. “Darling, that was for a January event, and this will be in June. That dress won’t be at all suitable.”
“I suppose you’re right, but I’ve got three months to think about it. Are you going out with Beth’s cousin again, Naomi?” Jillian asked, in an effort to change the subject. “What’s his name?”
Naomi shrugged. “Sean. I don’t know. He’s really not my type.” She looked toward the doorway and lowered her voice. “I’ll tell you something, though.”
“What?” Vera asked.
“When I went down to Brunswick last week to see Sean, he took me to Portland. We went to a club, and we ran into a friend of his, Jack Kendall. And guess what?”
Jillian eyed her for a moment and suddenly she knew. “You liked the friend better than you liked Sean.”
“Isn’t that terrible?” Naomi looked eagerly to her and Vera, obviously wanting them to deny it.
“This Sean has no claim on you, does he?” Vera asked.
“No, but it felt a little awkward.”
Low voices in the hallway drew Jillian’s gaze to the open doorway. She was almost certain that Dave was nearby. Would they ever be able to have a normal conversation again? They’d barely spoken a word on the short ride between the statehouse and the mansion. With Dave driving and Bob beside her in the backseat, a strained silence had settled in.
So why had Dave showed up tonight? He wasn’t part of the team that usually protected her, and she’d thought he was confined to quarters, so to speak. Andrew had said in so many words that Dave was forbidden to see her. Colonel Smith probably gave the order, in an effort to avoid what he imagined was a brewing scandal.
She wished she could catch Dave when no one else was around and find out what was really going on. But someone always hovered nearby. Could she buttonhole another of the EPU officers—Stephanie perhaps?
She sank back in her chair with a sigh. Better to leave it alone. The less people talked about her nonrelationship with Dave, the sooner the speculation would die down. Not that she believed there really was much speculation outside the Executive Protection Unit. There was nothing to it—nothing at all. So why did she feel guilty?
V
era and Naomi dressed fashionably but warmly for their shopping expedition the next morning. Jillian almost wished she could escape with them.
They had just left the breakfast table when Andrew announced that Colonel Smith had arrived and wished to speak with her in private. Though his expression remained neutral, Andrew’s eyes darted about, refusing to focus on her face. Jillian felt a bit light-headed as she instructed him to show the colonel to her private office upstairs. She assured her mother it was probably a minor detail involving security for her Lewiston trip, and practically shoved her and Naomi out the door.
Before mounting the staircase, she sent up a quick prayer. Smith’s only other visitations to her at the Blaine House had occurred on the mornings following shooting incidents. What now? She squared her shoulders and marched to her office.
Smith’s cheeks were infused with a deep red, and his brow furrowed as he turned to face her.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, ma’am, but one of the early morning radio talk show hosts called me and asked if you have a…uh…love interest.”
“Oh?” Jillian felt the blood shoot to her face. She reached her chair and sat down quickly. “I hope you said no.”
Smith cleared his throat. “Well, I didn’t think I had the authority to say one way or the other, ma’am.”
She pulled in a long, slow breath and held it for a moment. “Did he name names?”
“No, ma’am.”
She shot off a silent
Thank You, Lord.
“Good, because the whole thing is preposterous. What do you recommend as a course of action?”
“I’ve called Mark Payson. He’ll be here in a few minutes to discuss it.”
Jillian glanced at her wristwatch. “I’m sorry. I’m expected at the statehouse soon. I have a meeting at nine.”
“This is more important.”
How could he possibly know what her meeting was about? On second thought, he probably knew exactly whom she was scheduled to meet with all morning. She recalled something about Lettie faxing a copy of her schedule to the colonel and Lieutenant Wilson every evening.
“Do you think so? It’s only gossip.”
“Gossip can cause you more problems than you imagine.”
“All right. Did he say where he got his so-called information?”
“‘A source close to the governor.’ That’s all he’d say. Of course I threatened to take it to his boss if they said one word on the air.”
Jillian’s stomach fluttered worse than it had on inauguration day. “It’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” He stared hard at her.
“Yes, of course.”
The colonel pulled a ringing cell phone out of his pocket. As he opened it, he turned away from her, toward the window. “Yes?”
Her heart pounded as she waited. Had her enemies found a way to ruin her without killing her? Starting a scandal was much less risky than committing murder.
After a moment, the colonel put the phone away. “Payson’s on his way up.”
The public information officer entered the room half a minute later, carrying a computer disk.
“Governor. Colonel. I’m trying to put this fire out before it starts, but a television reporter handed me this as I left my office.” Payson looked toward Jillian’s desk. “Does your computer have a DVD player?”
“Yes.” Jillian followed him to the desk and watched him insert the disk.
“The television station intends to run some footage of you on their evening report tonight.”
Jillian and the colonel stood by him to watch the video. The screen showed the SUV Jillian used pulling into the private driveway behind the Blaine House. When the vehicle stopped, Bob Caruthers got out and held the door for her as she exited and headed for the family entrance of the mansion.
She gasped. “Where were they? Did they come onto the grounds?”
“Long lens,” Smith muttered. “Probably across the street, near the exit to the parking garage. When was this taken? Can you tell?”
“Well…” She rubbed her forehead and thought. “Bob was one of my escorts last evening. He or Andrew Browne usually brings me over from the office. Or Ryan Mills.” She didn’t dare mention that Dave had been driving last night. Did the colonel know?
“The woman who gave me this asked if it was true you had a romantic liaison with one of your bodyguards,” Payson said.
Jillian flushed. “So…they think I’m in love with Bob Caruthers?”
“She didn’t say so.”
The colonel shook his head. “Someone called them with a
tip, the same as the radio talk show. Caruthers just happened to be on hand when they came and shot film.”
Jillian wheeled away and walked to the window. “That’s all rubbish. Someone’s trying to make trouble for me.”
The colonel replayed the video. “Footage of the governor getting out of her car, with an EPU officer escorting her. No physical contact. No anything. Just general footage, that’s all.”
Payson sighed and straightened. “I advised them not to run it, and I said I’d call the reporter after I viewed it. I hope we can trace this thing back and find out where the rumor started.”
Jillian held out a hand in supplication. “There’s nothing to it. You both know that, don’t you?”
“I have no reason to think otherwise,” said Payson.
“Mr. Payson, I’d like you to work with my PR team on this. Please get them up to speed.” She was determined to hold his gaze, no matter what gymnastics her stomach performed.
“I will. Then we’ll make a joint statement.”
“So the governor can carry on with her planned agenda for today?” Colonel Smith asked.
“Yes. The best way to quash this rumor is to give the media nothing that substantiates it.” Payson turned to Jillian. “The EPU needs to be careful not to give wrong impressions. The colonel can speak to them. Have you gotten friendly with some of the officers?”
Jillian gulped. “I suppose so. I mean, they’re with me day and night. We chat a little.”
Payson nodded. “We have another female detective approaching eligibility for this unit. I think the more female officers assigned to you the better right now.” He looked at Smith. “Let’s try to have at least one woman on duty here every night.”
“Governor, do you have any idea how this rumor started?” Smith asked, frowning.
“I—No.” Jillian went back to her desk and sat down. “I’ve
met with one of the EPU detectives for a briefing twice a week since I took office, but that officer isn’t one of those assigned here at the Blaine House. There have been times when I’ve invited officers to share a cup of coffee with me or sit down for a few minutes and talk.”
“Do they?” Payson asked.
“If they’re going off duty, they might stay and chat a few minutes, but when they’re on duty, they politely refuse. It’s a rather lonely existence here, Mr. Payson.”
He eyed her for a long moment, then dropped his gaze. “I’m sorry. These officers are required to keep a professional demeanor. But that doesn’t mean they can’t be friendly, especially when no visitors are present.”
“I should hope not. I need to know them and trust them.”
“Yes.” Payson sighed and looked at the colonel. “I think that’s all. Speak to the officers and remind them that someone is always watching.”
Without fanfare, about a week later, Wilson put Dave back in the field. A pleasant warmth filled Dave as he stared at the assignment board. After the briefing he ducked into the lieutenant’s office.
“There’s no mystery about it,” Wilson told him. “We need you back out there on the job. You’re one of our best investigators, and the colonel knows it.”
“Thanks.” Dave hesitated. “You…uh…put me down to drive the governor to Portland on Thursday.”
“That’s right. There will be a female officer along, too.” Wilson tipped his chair back and looked up at the ceiling. “In the old days, the governor would jump in the car with a driver, and off he’d go. We can’t do that anymore. Governor Goff needs at least two security officers all the time. And it’s starting to look like one of those two should be a woman, just to keep
the gossip down. Smith’s little internal investigation didn’t turn up anything solid against you, so I figure that I can put you on driving detail now and then. Just don’t sit around and chitchat with the governor, eh?”
Dave nodded. “You got it.”
The hour-long drive to Portland flew for Jillian. She spent most of it going over the briefings Lettie had prepared for her appointments in the city—one with Portland’s mayor and his staff, and another with the administrators of the University of Southern Maine. She also chatted with Penny, who was next to her, for a few minutes.
Penny was not her favorite of the security officers. In repose, Penny seemed to wear a habitual frown. Jillian received the distinct impression that Penny disapproved of her, though she had no clue why.
During the ride, Penny leaned forward four times to ask Dave a question. Jillian had greeted him in what she hoped was a discreet fashion and deliberately hadn’t attempted further conversation with him. Penny, however, seemed determined to get his attention.
So maybe that was it, Jillian reflected. Dave seemed to get along well with all the officers who guarded her, treating them equally. Perhaps that wasn’t enough for Penny.
The meeting with the university administrators went well, and afterward Jillian spoke briefly to a gathering of student leaders. Dave then drove them to city hall, where she joined the mayor in his office. Penny sat just behind her at the table, while Dave stood near the door. Jillian was glad the seating placed her with her back to him. She wouldn’t be tempted to look at him.
Shortly after her arrival, the door opened and the city treasurer and several city council members walked in, including chairman Peter Harrison. Jillian stood, her chest tightening. It
was her first encounter with the man who lost the election to her in November.
“Peter. How have you been?” She extended her hand, and he took it with a tight smile.
“I’ve been fine. I’ve followed your progress on the news—seems you’ve had a few rough moments.”
She assumed he was referring to the shootings. All through their meeting, while the mayor went on about the city’s symbiosis with the state government, Harrison sat stiffly, avoiding her gaze. He offered little to the discussion, though Jillian once made a point of asking him a question to draw him in. At last the meeting ended, cordially on all counts. She walked out to the parking lot with Dave ahead and Penny at her side.
When they were safely in the vehicle, Dave put the SUV in gear and headed for the highway. Jillian couldn’t ride all the way back to Augusta without releasing some steam—she’d explode.
“Dave?”
“Yes?” He met her gaze in the rearview mirror.
“Could we get something to eat? Penny and I had coffee, but I’m starved, and you must be, too.”
He grinned at her. “Fine by me, but no restaurants. We’ve only got the two of us for security.”
“Drive-up burgers are fine. I can even duck down and hide while you order.”
He laughed. “I think the tinted glass will take care of that. Penny?”
“Sounds good to me,” Penny said.
Once they had their orders, Dave pulled into a large grocery store’s parking area. He drove to a spot far from the store, where few people had left their vehicles.
Penny had already opened her container of salad, but Jillian waited until Dave shut the engine off.
“Would you mind asking the blessing, Dave?”
Penny’s eyes flared for a moment, but she said nothing.
“Sure. If you don’t mind me keeping my eyes open.”
Jillian chuckled. “Whatever you need to do.”
After a moment’s silence, Dave’s voice came, low and clear. “Dear Lord, thank You for safety today and productive meetings for the governor. We thank You for this food and for all Your blessings to us. Amen.”
Jillian couldn’t help smiling as she opened her salad and flatware pack. Penny waited until Jillian took a bite of her salad and then began to eat.
“Dave?” Jillian said.
He swung around and met her gaze directly. “Yes, ma’am?”
Jillian’s heart lurched. Was the “ma’am” for Penny’s benefit, or to remind her of the distance between them?
“I’ve been thinking about Peter Harrison.” She looked over at Penny, to include her in the conversation. “Do either of you think he’s still bitter about losing the election?”
“He certainly seemed on edge today,” Penny said, “but I don’t know if that was from being in the same room with you or not.”
Dave frowned slightly. “Do you think he might be bitter enough to hire someone to kill you?”
Jillian shivered as she exhaled. She hadn’t wanted to meet that thought head-on, but it lurked there in the back of her mind. “It seems horribly unjust to think it of him.”
They continued eating in silence. A few minutes later, Dave took their food containers to a trash can and then headed once more for Augusta. Jillian sank back on the seat and closed her eyes. Fatigue set in, and she tried to let go of the questions that nagged her. Even so, images kept popping into her mind. Peter Harrison, apparently still holding a grudge. Roderick Tanger, simmering in prison. Parker Tilton, perhaps overly ambitious. Raymond Grant, who would go to great lengths to see the Gulf
of Maine on the Environmental Protection Agency’s list of approved oil drilling sites. Gerald Francis, whom she had helped put away for several years on a manslaughter charge, and a recently released murderer she had helped prosecute. Was one of them biding his time, waiting for another chance to strike? If not, who else was out there watching her?