Tracie Peterson Read online

  Russell looked at the guard, who shrugged and closed the door.

  “Debra, it’s me, Russell Owens.”

  The petite blonde appeared in the arched entryway to the main living room. Her short hair was neatly sprayed into place, and her makeup was impeccably applied. She wore a gray flannel jumpsuit whose finely tailored lines promised to bear a designer label. All of these were secondary dressings, however. The rage in Debra Kerns’ eyes was clearly the only thing she was interested in wearing at the moment.

  “What do you want, Russell?”

  “I, well . . .” He thought for a moment. It wouldn’t do to tell her that security had called to report her. “I came for some papers.”

  She clenched her teeth and nodded. “Take whatever you want. I’ll even give you the combination to the safe.”

  “That won’t be necessary, Debra,” Russell replied soothingly. “Sounds like you’re having a bad day. If you want, I can come back later.”

  “No.” A bit of the anger seemed to leave her face. “Get what you need.”

  Russell thought for a moment, then said, “What I really need is a drink. I think your husband’s administration is taking its toll on me.”

  Debra smiled, sensing a comrade. “I have some very old Scotch,” she offered. “A drink sounds like just the thing.”

  It was just as Russell had hoped. He nodded and followed her across hardwood floors into the living room. Here was more evidence of the grandeur to which Kerns was accustomed. An antique Persian rug sprayed out across the floor in reds, blues, and golds. Red and gold throne chairs sat at either end of the room, while two gold brocade antique sofas sat at right angles to the massive native stone fireplace.

  “Here you are,” Debra said, smiling in what might have once been an attractive manner.

  Owens noted she’d poured a drink for herself, and he raised his in salute. “Cheers.”

  “Whatever,” she answered and tossed back the Scotch as though it were nothing stronger than tea.

  “Want another?” she asked. Without waiting for a reply, she returned to the bar and poured herself another drink.

  “I’m still good on this one.” Russell knew if he could just keep her drinking she would eventually pass out.

  “Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you,” Russell finally said.

  “Have you got a couple of years?” she questioned snidely and finished off the second drink. She poured another, and this time took the bottle with her, motioning for Russell to take a seat. “I’m divorcing Bob,” she announced without fanfare. “I’ve absolutely reached my limit of tolerance.”

  “Tolerance for what?”

  Debra glared at him. “What do you suppose? His affairs are driving me insane. I’ve had it up to here.” She drew her drinking hand across her neck, sloshing Scotch on her jumpsuit. She contemplated the spill for only a moment before shrugging and continuing her list of grievances. “I have a feeling—no, I’m almost certain that Bob is sleeping with Serena Perez. That woman is always with him, always flashing her white teeth and swinging her hips. Of course, she hasn’t got a thing in her wardrobe that comes below the knee. She even wore a mini to the inaugural activities.”

  Russell nodded. He remembered only too well. Serena had made quite a hit in her clinging red sequined dress.

  “Well, if Bob thinks I’m going to sit back and take this public humiliation, he’s got another thing coming.”

  She poured more Scotch and sipped it awkwardly. Russell noted she was slowing down. Her rigid posture had relaxed to a kind of sprawling disinterest.

  “He’s an animal,” she whined.

  “I’ve never known him to dally with Serena,” Russell stated honestly. In fact, for all of Serena’s teasing and provocative dress, Russell had actually seen her put Kerns at arm’s length.

  “Bob takes what he wants,” she said and downed her fourth glass of Scotch.

  Now less agitated, she became almost more focused on her vocal assault. Though stammering somewhat, she managed to express every injustice, real or imagined, that Bob had ever put upon her. After an hour of listening, Russell couldn’t help but wonder why Kerns hadn’t at least called to find out the status of the situation.

  She began to cry when the Scotch ran out, and Russell was in no way experienced in comforting drunken females.

  “Come on, Debra. Let me help you to bed. Maybe you’ll feel better after you sleep it off,” he suggested.

  “But I loved him,” she said, turning mascara-smudged eyes on Russell. “I gave up my entire life for him.”

  Russell grew uncomfortable. He could competently handle himself in court or crisis-manage a political campaign, but weepy women were something he’d never been able to figure out. They never seemed to respond the same way, and it was almost always a real feat of mind reading to figure out just how he should react.

  He offered her a helping hand, and Debra clung to it as if he were some kind of lifeline. Getting her to her feet, Russell could tell she’d never be able to negotiate the stairs. Not knowing any of the security staff by name, Russell called out in the only way he could.

  “Security!”

  The same man who’d let him into the house appeared from the entryway arch. “Problem?”

  “Yeah, she’s dead drunk. Can you carry her up to her room?”

  The broad-shouldered guard nodded. Russell handed Debra over to him and glanced at his watch. He’d wasted a great deal of time here. “Go ahead. I’ll follow.”

  The guard grunted and took off up the stairs as though Debra weighed no more than a child. Just then the front door opened.

  “Mother, I’m home,” Danielle Kerns called out.

  “I’m afraid,” Russell said, coming into the foyer, “your mother is indisposed.”

  Danielle paled. “What’s happened?” She put her books on a small oak receiving table and pulled off her coat.

  Russell imitated tossing back a drink and Danielle immediately understood. “Where is she and why are you here?”

  As Danielle hung up her coat, Russell explained, “Security called me. She was drinking heavily and they were afraid she’d hurt herself. Your father was in an important meeting, so I came to see what I could do.”

  Danielle marched into the living room and spied the empty bottle. “It isn’t like her to drink so early in the afternoon.”

  Russell wondered if she’d question the two drinking glasses, but with a frown Danielle turned to the stairs just as the security guard was descending.

  “Hello, Pete. How’s Mother?”

  “I just put her in her bed. She’s still pretty upset, though.”

  Danielle nodded. “I’ll go right up.” She turned back to Russell and offered a grim smile. “Thanks for helping her out.”

  “No problem. That’s what I’m here for.”

  Thirty-Two

  Cara was less than delighted at the prospect of spending her evening discussing affairs of state with Russell Owens. He had made it clear that he’d arrive in Wichita around five-thirty, and he’d come directly to her office after checking in at the Marriott, unless of course she wanted to meet at the hotel. She had declined and agreed to wait around for him instead. She was scarcely more settled now than she had been three weeks ago. She’d hired an older woman as her secretary and immediately appreciated her skillful organization. Liz Moore had worked in a previous gubernatorial administration and knew the job of running the Wichita office better than Cara could have hoped.

  “I’m heading home,” the plump dark-headed Liz announced.

  “Thanks for all you’ve done. I’m grateful for your patience.”

  Liz smiled. “Hope your meeting with Mr. Owens goes well. Are you sure you won’t need me to take shorthand?”

  “No. Supposedly he’s bringing me copies of everything important. The rest I’ll just depend on remembering and take my own notes if necessary.”

  “Well, if you’re sure. Don’t forget we’re interviewing office s
taff tomorrow.”

  “Right.” Cara watched Liz gather up her things and cross the outer office. Just as her secretary opened the door, Russell Owens appeared in the opening.

  “Well, hello,” he said with a suave kind of smile. He noticed Cara and motioned to Liz. “Care to introduce us?”

  “Liz Moore,” Cara replied, “this is Russell Owens. Liz is my new executive secretary.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Owens. I’ve heard a great deal about you.”

  “All good I hope.” Russell took hold of Liz’s hand and turned on the charm. “I’m looking forward to spending this week with you both.”

  Cara felt like rolling her eyes, but instead she waited for Russell to wrap up his performance. “Liz has an important date this evening with her granddaughter, otherwise she’d be staying for our meeting tonight.”

  “Well, perhaps tomorrow we’ll have a chance to discuss matters more thoroughly.”

  Liz murmured something Cara couldn’t quite make out before closing the door, leaving Cara to face Russell alone.

  “Well,” she began reluctantly, “we might as well get right to it. My office is in here.” She stepped back and pointed the way.

  “You’re looking great, Cara. Wichita must agree with you.”

  “Not particularly,” she replied dryly. “I miss my friends and my daughter, as well as the life I’d grown accustomed to. But I’m certain that is of no concern to you.” Her hostility was clear.

  “Moving you to Wichita wasn’t my idea. I wanted you in Topeka. I was kind of hoping we might get to know each other better. I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I want to set things right and start over.”

  “Start what over?” Cara asked. She stepped around to her desk chair, happy for the chance to put something between her and Russell.

  “Us.”

  He said the word so nonchalantly that Cara couldn’t help but pick up on his lead. “What do you mean, ‘us’?”

  Russell put down his briefcase. “Come on now, Cara. You know I find you attractive. I just want a chance to get to know you better.”

  “I see. Well, as far as I’m concerned, Russell,” she said, taking her seat, “you are as much to blame as Kerns for my being forced into an uncomfortable situation. What makes you think I would ever be interested in you?”

  Russell appeared unconcerned. “You can’t blame me for Kerns’ actions. I’m in the same boat as you are. Just his hired man.”

  “Well, that definitely separates us,” Cara replied, barely able to control her anger. “I wasn’t hired.”

  “Look, Cara”—Russell’s voice dropped an octave—“I don’t want you to associate the way Kerns does business with the way I feel about you.” His expression was turning into a leer.

  “I don’t think this conversation bears any further consideration,” Cara interjected. “I want to know what messages you’ve brought from Topeka and to see the agenda Bob has lined out for me. Other than that, I have no use for you here.”

  Russell surprised Cara by coming around the desk. Without thought as to what she was doing, Cara jumped to her feet and put the chair between them.

  “Don’t be like this, Cara.”

  “I told you I’m not interested.”

  “But you aren’t giving me a chance.”

  Cara moved around the desk. “That’s right. I’m not.”

  Russell smiled. “I don’t think that’s fair.” He moved toward her with slow deliberate steps. “After all, you really aren’t in a position to deny me.” His eyes narrowed behind the wire-framed glasses.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Cara felt her heart beat faster and goosebumps formed on her arms. She was genuinely afraid. There was no one else in the office to help her, and much of the building would be deserted because of the hour. She was sorry now that she’d rejected the idea of a bodyguard.

  “What about your daughter? What about HEARTBEAT and your friends there?” Russell pushed the chair aside and Cara went to the door.

  “You are threatening my child?”

  “I’m merely pointing out that you have a lot to lose, and if you give me a chance, I could help you hang on to what’s important. Otherwise,” he shrugged, “who knows what will happen.”

  “Get out!” Cara exclaimed and moved into the outer office. She hurried to the door and managed to unlock it, but Russell pulled her back, trying hard to embrace her. “Stop it! Let me go!”

  “Cara, I’m not such a bad guy. I know how to treat a lady.”

  “Then demonstrate it now and let me go!”

  “You just don’t understand,” he whispered against her ear. “I get what I want . . . and I want you.”

  Cara brought the heel of her shoe down on his foot. The action caused Russell to release her only momentarily. It was enough time for Cara to move away from him, but Russell maintained his wits enough to put himself between her and the door.

  “Fighting will get you nowhere.”

  “Get out of here, Russell, or I’ll resign my position as lieutenant governor and I’ll tell the papers and anyone else who will listen just why I’m doing it. Furthermore, I’ll sue you for sexual harassment.”

  Russell laughed and moved toward her. “And how are you going to prove such a charge?”

  She gritted out, “I will find a way.” Cara glanced around and knew real panic. She barely had time to form a desperate prayer before Russell lunged at her and forced her back across an empty desk.

  The smell of his musk was overpowering and the feel of his hands on her body was more than Cara could stand. Without giving thought to anything else, Cara screamed as loud as she could.

  Russell forced his hand across her mouth and pounded her head back against the desk top. “Stop it!” he demanded. “If you’d just get off your prudish pedestal, you’d enjoy what I’m offering you.”

  Cara shook her head furiously from side to side. She tried to bite him and slapped at him with one hand while the other remained firmly pinned by his body.

  “I mean it, Cara. There’s no sense fighting this.” With his free hand, Russell was unbuttoning the top button of her blouse. “There’s no one to help you.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” a voice sounded from the outer office door. It was Harry in full uniform.

  Cara felt almost faint with relief as Russell released her and stood to face his intruder. Without caring what Russell thought, Cara rolled off the desk and ran to Harry. He put an arm around her, leaving his gun hand free. She hid her face against him and forced her knees not to buckle.

  “Get out of here, Owens. Get out of here or I’ll tear you apart.”

  “You?” Russell questioned without seeming the least bit disturbed by the interruption. “If you interfere, I’ll see you terminated. You won’t work in law enforcement again.”

  “You talk big, but what kind of power are you going to have after Cara brings you up on charges of attempted rape?”

  Cara forced herself to look at Owens at this point. “Get out!” she demanded again, and this time Russell shrugged, retrieved his briefcase, and walked toward the door.

  “She enticed me, Oberlin,” he said at the door. “She told me to meet her here after hours and offered to come back to the hotel with me. I don’t think it’s rape when they’re willing.”

  Harry started after Owens, but Cara held him back. “Don’t. He’s only trying to provoke you. Just let him go.” She stared past Harry to where Russell stood smirking. “I’m smarter than you give me credit for, Mr. Owens. I’ll receive your report tomorrow, and then I’ll expect you on the next flight to Topeka.”

  “We’re supposed to tackle a week’s worth of work, or did you forget?”

  “I didn’t forget, I’m just pulling rank.”

  “Have it your way, Cara,” Russell answered with a hint of malice in his tone. “For now.”

  He left the office, and only after his presence had been completely removed did Cara give in to her emotions and begin to cry.
/>
  Harry wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close against him. “I missed you,” he said, as though nothing bad had happened.

  Realizing it was the first time she’d allowed Harry to embrace her, Cara suddenly felt rather shy. She pushed away gently and looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. “Thank you, Harry. If you hadn’t come . . .” Her voice broke.

  He put a finger to her lips. “I know.”

  She shuddered and crossed her arms defensively. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do. Owens won’t stop at this.”

  “Probably not,” Harry agreed somberly.

  She’d hoped for a contradiction from Harry, but Cara knew she wouldn’t have believed him anyway. She was already too familiar with Russell Owens’ ruthless nature. After all, he’d had the perfect teacher.

  Trying to collect her thoughts, Cara was only mildly aware that Harry had moved closer. “Come here,” he whispered.

  Looking deep into his midnight blue eyes, Cara realized she trusted him implicitly. Without hesitation she allowed him to encircle her with his arms.

  “I drove down here today because I waited three weeks for you to call me and you didn’t,” he said gently.

  “I thought maybe—”

  “Just hear me out,” Harry interrupted. “I know you’re afraid and I can well see why, but I don’t like it coming between us.”

  “Me neither,” she managed to whisper.

  “So we’re friends again?” he asked, pulling back enough to see her face.

  “We were always that.” Her heart raced so hard that she was sure Harry could hear its pounding beat.

  “For now,” he said with the same grin that had first won him a place in Cara’s heart, “I’ll settle for that much.”

  “For now?” she questioned, almost hoping he’d take the bait.

  “For now.”

  Thirty-Three

  Melissa Jordon once again climbed the steps of the Capitol and made her way to the second-floor conference room. Robert Kerns was to make additional announcements today regarding the future of various agencies, and Melissa was relishing another confrontation with the governor she’d come to despise.

  Taking her place with a number of other reporters and television camera crews, Melissa caught sight of Serena Perez. The woman had been placed in charge of public relations. As Kerns’ press secretary, Serena was the one Melissa had to deal with for information. She was cordial enough, but there was something about her that just didn’t seem to fit.