A sliver of knowing that put her journalistic instincts on high freaking alert. Because that hint of familiarity was worth more than a thousand words.
He knows something.
“Have a good day, Miss Reynolds.” Press Secretary Daley slid his body into the car’s back seat before shutting the door in her face.
Janie watched from the curb as the car drove away. Adrenaline raced through her veins as if she were preparing to go into battle, just like it had when she’d first caught wind of her own city’s wrongdoings.
Her gut swirled with a hefty dose of suspicion and, ifshe were being honest, a touch of professional excitement. Amy Weaver was missing, and for some reason, the White House didn’t want to admit it.
What happened to you, Amy? What did you do? What did you know?
Had she caught someone in the act of committing a serious crime? Or had the young intern been a fellow player in the criminal’s game?
So many questions with little to no answers.
Janie spun on her heels and walked swiftly down the sidewalk, feeling suddenly grateful Daley’s favorite restaurant was only one block from the president’s home. She’d take the new rental Emmett had arranged for her to use but it would take longer to find a new parking spot than to cover the short distance on foot.
If the man in charge of the press office interns refused to answer her questions directly, she’d simply have to adapt and adjust. The truth was out there, somewhere. So was a scared young woman. Or maybe she wasn’t. Maybe the players in whatever game this was took care of Amy for good.
Janie prayed that wasn’t the case, but the fearful thought had her heeled boots moving swiftly as she made her way to the crosswalk up ahead. A cool breeze blew past as the light at the intersection changed.
She and the others who’d been waiting began the short trek to the other side of the street. Minutes later, Janie found herself standing by the black wrought iron fencing along the north side of the most famous house in the world.
Wanting to appear like any other tourist, she removed her phone from her purse and began takingpictures. As she did, Janie carefully scanned the area around her, hoping to find someone who might be an unsuspecting source. It didn’t take long for her to realize she was getting nowhere fast.
New plan.
Making her way through the bustling crowd, Janie continued farther down the sidewalk. She stopped when she noticed a makeshift barricade designed to keep from accessing that part of the street.
Tall, concrete barriers had been constructed in a way they almost created a sort of maze. One that would lead those who entered to a different section of the White House but was currently being guarded by a heavily armed member of the Secret Service.
Worth a shot.
Janie casually strolled closer, keeping an unsuspecting eye on the uniformed agent as she went. With her phone’s camera serving as a prop in her performance as a clueless tourist enjoying the sights, she eventually made her way closer to the SUV decked out with the force’s official emblem on its side.
She smiled, turning the phone in the direction of the car. More specifically, she focused on man leaning his upper body toward the opened passenger window.
While he spoke to whoever was sitting behind the wheel, Janie snapped several pictures for her collection. When the man noticed, he turned and made a gesture with his gloved hand.
“Really?” He sent a look of frustration Janie’s way.
“Oh, sorry.” She chuckled, playing the moment off as best she could. “Did you want to pose for me, first?”
The man’s response was far angrier than she’d ever expected when he turned his muscular form her way.
“I want you to stop taking my picture,” he growled.
His crappy attitude and the nasty expression on his face instantly raised her defenses.
“You do realize, you’re standing on public property, right?” She refused to let an overcompensating man scare her away. “That means I have the right to take pictures of you, or even videos, if I want.”
“Lady, you need to leave.”
Oh, I will, but first?—
Janie lifted her phone and took several more pictures of the man as he glared. And then, because she was in a particularly feisty mood, she lowered her phone and asked a few questions.
“Hey, you don’t happen to know anything about the intern who’s gone missing, do you?” When he ignored her, she continued with, “Her name is Amy Weaver. She was part of your boss’s press office. I’m curious as to why she suddenly up and vanished right out of thin air. Do you think she was having an affair with the president? Or maybe it was someone else on his staff.”
