The Inner Sanctum (23 page)

Cowen began to laugh. He was going to be a millionaire and the envy of every other branch of the service with the most advanced stealth fighter-bomber in the world--as long as Malcolm Walker could be neutralized. "Ain't that some shit," he said to no one in particular.

Mohler's posture stiffened at the obscenity. He hated Cowen's brash manner. But Cowen had come through on the A-100 project with flying colors. Webb had assured them, against some resistance, that Cowen and the Navy were the best choices for the project that would make them millions, and he had been right, as always.

"It's a helluva profit. But we've all worked hard and we deserve it." Webb gestured at Mohler. "You are certain you can suck that money out of Sagamore without raising too many eyebrows?"

"Yes."

Finnerty changed the subject. "How's Mitchell doing, Art?"

"All right. Yesterday he made the two-million- dollar transfer to the Grand Caymans account you gave him from one of Doub Steel's local banks." Mohler smiled. "He's very predictable."

"Does he have suspicions?"

"They always have suspicions."

"The next topic," Webb interrupted forcefully, "will be the election." He pointed down at Coleman. "Give us an update, Elbridge."

Coleman cleared his throat. He hadn't spoken since the meeting had started. "There isn't much new to report. We continue to run strong, especially in the western part of the state and on the Eastern Shore. Senator Walker has a lock on inner-city Baltimore. There really isn't anything we can do about that. The battle will be won or lost in the Baltimore and Washington suburbs."

"Won or lost?" Mohler was suddenly annoyed. "Does that imply that the election is still in doubt? I thought the trend was positive. Last I heard we had gained nine points in the last six weeks."

"The trend is positive." Coleman shot back. "I'm very confident. I just don't want to underestimate Malcolm Walker. He is a resilient man, as we've discussed this evening."

Admiral Cowen tapped the table for attention. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I like what we've got going here. I've heard tonight that we stand to make an incredible profit on GEA, and that's great, but we need to keep this thing in place. Not only because of the profit potential, but also for patriotic reasons. I don't want to sound too much like a military zealot, but we must maintain the integrity of the black budget. We can't allow the liberals to lay it open. That would make it impossible to develop weapons in secret. That could compromise national security." He turned to Webb. "Senator, it sounds like Malcolm Walker is going to try to drop a bomb tomorrow. I hope you have effective countermeasures planned, because we're going to need them."

All eyes turned to Webb.

Webb's expression was steely. "Don't worry. After tomorrow Malcolm Walker may never call another press conference in his life. He'll certainly wish he hadn't called this one."

** Chapter 22

Hot water coursed down Jesse's body, gently massaging and relaxing her tired muscles. A nice hot shower felt so good at the end of a long day. It would put her right to sleep.

Steam rose slowly from the shower floor, enveloping her, and she closed her eyes, concentrating on the tiny droplets pounding her skin. It was hypnotic, and her mind drifted back to the restaurant earlier this evening--and Todd. He had been devastated at her rejection. She had seen it in his face instantly, and his reaction had tugged at her heart. But Becky strongly agreed that Jesse had given the right answer. That Jesse still wasn't ready to date him.

Jesse turned off the shower and squeezed water from her long hair, twisting it into a ponytail on one side of her neck. She lifted a large, thick towel from a hook on the wall as she stepped over the side of the tub and dried herself thoroughly. Finished, she tossed the towel onto the sink and moved quickly into the small apartment's single bedroom.

The formal dress hung from the top of the closet door by an embroidered hanger, and Jesse stopped for a moment to admire it again. The dress, delivered today to the apartment complex management office, was a gift from Elizabeth Gilman. Also in the beautifully wrapped dress box had been an envelope containing an invitation to a black-tie affair Elizabeth was hosting for the governor. Jesse moved to the dress slowly and touched the material. Silk. It must have cost a fortune. It was, of course, totally improper for her to accept it. Government employees had to adhere to strict regulations with respect to gifts. She gazed at it. Well, maybe she'd wear it to the governor's affair, then send it back.

Jesse moved away from the dress, and as she did, she glimpsed her reflection in the full-length mirror standing in the far corner. She put her hands on her hips and pivoted her body to both sides quickly, scrutinizing herself. Slender shoulders, thin waist, long toned legs, and a behind that filled out the seat of a pair of jeans perfectly, even if she did say so herself. Jesse turned to face the mirror. She wouldn't mind having larger breasts, but then didn't almost every woman feel that way?

The Persian cat rubbed against her ankles. As Jesse bent down to scratch its chin, the doorbell rang. Instinctively she covered her body with her hands and arms. Who could that be at this hour? Again the bell rang. She hurried to the bed, picked up her ankle-length terry-cloth robe, and slipped into it as she walked quickly toward the hallway.

In the middle of the darkened living room she stopped. It was five minutes after midnight. Why would anyone come to her apartment now? She took one more step toward the door and stopped again. Be careful. Neil Robinson's words. Had the man who had chased her at Neil's house finally found her? But why would he bother to ring the bell? That could give her time to climb down the fire escape. Of course, maybe that was what he wanted. Someone else could be waiting at the bottom of the fire escape. It was darker in the back. A better place to finish what he had started the other night.

Jesse moved slowly over the thick carpet to the door and pressed her eye to the peephole. But she could see nothing. It was too dark. She could illuminate the outside light, but then her caller would know she was at the door. The man had been willing to shoot out a car windshield. He might think nothing of firing through a door. For several seconds she stood in the apartment foyer, frozen, uncertain of her next move.

Finally she shook her head. There was just no reason to take chances at this point. Over the last few days she had convinced herself that the man was no longer searching for her. But that was silly, actually stupid, she realized. No one fired at another person with the intent to kill and then gave up the pursuit so quickly. It would be irrational to think that. It was time to call the police.

"Jesse." The voice quietly called her name. "Jesse!" Louder this time.

"David?"

"Yes! Hey, can I come in?"

Instantly she flipped on the outside light, pulled the chain across the lock, turned the deadbolt, and tugged the door open. He stood before her, still dressed in a suit and tie. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Well, that's a helluva greeting."

"Get in here." She reached out and grabbed his forearm, laughing a relieved laugh as she pulled him into the apartment.

From behind his back David produced the sweater Jesse had worn Saturday night on the sailboat. "You left this in my car."

"And you decided to bring it to me now?"

"Well, I was working late, and your place is on the way home for me."

"No it isn't."

"When I take the long way home it is."

She smiled. He was quite charming sometimes, she had to admit. "I never should have let you pick me up to go sailing," she teased. "I never should have let you see where I live. God, you're probably a stalker."

"No, German secret agent, remember?"

"Oh, right." She pulled the robe more tightly around herself. "So why did you really come by?"

"Elizabeth is going to ask you to meet a few more people at Sagamore. If those interviews go well, she's going to make you an offer right away. You'd join after finishing school. All of that's off the record, but that's the deal."

Jesse brought her hands to her mouth. "You're kidding."

"No, I'm not. I found out late this afternoon. But she's going to ask you to meet these people very soon. Several of them are going out of town for a while, and I guess she wants you committed to Sagamore now." Why, David couldn't understand. Jesse was bright, but there would be lots of other candidates to choose from. "Anyway, I thought you might want me to go over these people's backgrounds. Some of them are kind of quirky, and it'll help to know a little bit about them before you meet them. I realize it's late, but it sounded as if Elizabeth was going to ask you back pretty fast. Maybe even tomorrow. I'd do this in the morning, but I've already got a breakfast meeting and it may go quite some time."

"It was so nice of you to do this for me." Without thinking, she kissed him on the cheek.

"I just thought it might help."

"Absolutely." She held up a finger. "Give me just one minute, can you? I'm going to put some clothes on."

"Do you have to?"

"I'll be right back," she said, laughing as she moved back down the hallway toward her bedroom. "Make yourself comfortable. There's beer in the refrigerator."

David watched her disappear into the bedroom, then walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. He scanned its contents, pulled out a Michelob, and set it down on the counter. As he was about to twist off the top, he noticed a dark brown folder lying on the counter next to the stove. In the upper left-hand corner of the folder was a white label marked simply "Elbridge Coleman." David twisted the cap off the beer, took a long sip, leaned back against the sink, and stared at the file.

Jesse took off the robe, dropped it on the bed, then quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. A few more interviews. If they went well, she'd be offered a job at Sagamore. At Sagamore Investment Management Group, one of the most prominent firms in the money management business. Sara wasn't going to believe it. Jesse could hardly believe it herself.

She sat down at the dressing table, picked up her hair dryer and flicked it on. Instantly the appliance's loud hum drowned out everything else. And then her heart skipped a beat. The file. It was on the kitchen counter.

She threw the hair dryer to the floor and ran for the living room. As she turned the corner of the hall, David was coming from the kitchen, beer in hand. "Hi."

"Hi yourself," he said, then took a swallow from the bottle. "Are you okay? You look a little unsettled."

"I'm fine." Suddenly she realized she hadn't exhaled in what seemed like forever. She let air out through her mouth slowly, trying not to make her alarm obvious.

His eyes moved down her body as he put the bottle on a table and sat down in a chair. "You look great."

"Thanks." Her pulse was racing.

"You sure you're okay?" David took another sip of beer.

"I'm fine, really. Let me get something to drink too. I'll be right back." She walked through the kitchen's swinging door, then to the counter next to the stove. The file from Neil's house was still there and didn't appear to have been touched. But there was no way to know if David had gone through it. If he had looked inside, he would have made certain to put the file back exactly as he found it.

"What are you doing in there?" David called.

"Just getting a beer. Be out in a minute."

"Okay."

Jesse hid the file in a cabinet next to a box of cereal, then pulled a beer from the refrigerator and headed back into the living room.

David smiled at her as she sat down on the couch opposite his chair. "I have a confession to make, Jesse."

"What's that?" Fear ripped through her. Was this going to be about the file? What would she say?

"Elizabeth really is going to ask you to interview with some more people," he said. "That's on the level. But, well, I came by for another reason too."

"And that is?"

David hesitated. "I was hoping we might have dinner again sometime soon."

Jesse placed her beer down on the coffee table, then pulled her knees to her chest without answering.

David sensed her discomfort immediately. "Are you worried that if we go out, Elizabeth might disapprove? That she might not make you an offer because of it?"

He had read her mind. "That thought had occurred to me."

"What if the situation was different? What if you weren't interviewing for a job with us? Would you go out with me then?"

Jesse nodded. "Yes."

"What if I told you that Elizabeth wouldn't mind us going out at all? That she's actually said to me that we'd make a nice couple? Would you feel different about it then?" David picked up a business card lying next to the phone and tapped it on the tabletop carelessly.

Jesse thought about his question for a moment. "I guess it would be okay then." She focused on the business card David was now gazing at. "Don't take this wrong, but I'd like to hear it from her."

David didn't answer. He was still staring at the card.

"Did you hear me?"

The card indicated that the woman had a Ph.D. in psychology. "Who's Rebecca Saunders?"