Chapter Five
Maddie wasn’t surprised to see a black Jaguar parked outside the hotel, Jack leaning casually against the side. God, the man exuded sex appeal without even trying.Damn it.
He offered her a lopsided grin as she approached, and then opened the passenger door. “Your chariot . . . and all that.”
She shook her head, pausing to drape her arm over the top edge of the door. “Well, this should be inconspicuous. Nice choice.”
He chuckled, leaning toward her, close enough that she could see the flecks of brown and gold in his green eyes. “Not my choice—although I can certainly appreciate the fine engineering of this little dish. More of a Porsche man myself—as you know.”
Maddie fought the flush that rose to her cheeks when she saw the twinkle of mischief in his eyes, and settled into the passenger seat. Oh, yes, she knew. One sultry summer evening he’d taught her evasive driving maneuvers in his seductively sleek, silver 911—along with a fewothermaneuvers . . .
“Ms. Davenport lives in a townhome in Beacon Hill,” he continued, a grin tugging at a corner of his mouth as he started the car and pulled away from the hotel. “It would’ve been more conspicuous to drive up in a nondescript sedan.”
Maddie had to concede that one. She’d been surprised when she saw Claire Davenport’s address in her dossier. How exactly did an investigative journalist who made a decent but not extravagant salary, live in one of the most sought-after neighborhoods in Boston?
Tragically, it was the result of her parents having been killed in a collision with an eighteen-wheeler whose driver had fallen asleep at the wheel and didn’t notice when he drifted across two lanes of traffic until he nailed the car stranded on the shoulder. Claire’s dad had been changing a tire, his wife sitting in the car waiting for him to finish. That’s all. Wrong place, wrong time. Shitty luck.
But, apparently, with Claire’s inheritance came the brownstone in Beacon Hill—the home her parents had bought so that they could be near their only daughter while she was away at Harvard. And, coupled with the settlement Claire had received from the trucking company, she was set up.
That said, after what she’d read about Claire—her tireless determination to expose those who wronged the innocent—she had a feeling that the woman probably would’ve given every cent just to have her parents back for one day. Maddie could relate. She’d nearly lost her father almost a year ago. And she’d made a lot of decisions that day as she sat there in the hospital while he clung to life. The biggest one being that she’d make the assholes who’d shot him pay. Not just the actual shooter—who knew what merc the Illuminati had hired for the job?—but the people behind it.Thosebastards were going to pay.
“Maddie, love.”
She started and turned guiltily toward Jack. “Sorry, what?”
He reached over and gently took her hand, smoothing his thumb over her skin until her clenched fist relaxed. “Are you all right?”
Maddie turned her hand over. Tiny crescent-shaped marks marred her palm where her nails had dug into her skin. When she was younger she’d had a bad habit of clenching her fists when she was upset or angry, until her nails drew blood. It’d begun when her mom ran off, abandoning her husband and young daughters, and had returned when Maddie lost her job with the FBI a year ago after blowing the whistle on a guy who’d been selling information on top-secret technology that the government had been developing. Apparently, doing the right thing only mattered when the other guy didn’t have your bosses in his pocket.
“I’m fine,” she said, rubbing her palms against her thighs. “Just thinking over Claire’s dossier. Most of her projects have involved human rights violations, corporate negligence, government waste . . . How did she become obsessed with the Alliance? With Will?”
Jack shifted slightly in his seat as if he was stalling before answering her question. “It’s a long story. But the short version is that he saved her life a few years ago.”
Maddie’s brows came together. “Okay . . . And that turned her into a stalker?”
Jack slid a sidelong glance her way. “I think there’s more to their story than even I know. They were in the Nigerian jungle together for several days, fighting for their lives. I imagine that has a way of bringing two people together. And then Will vanished without a trace, letting Claire think he was dead. I think her reporter’s instincts tipped her off to the fact that there was more to Will than what he’d let on.”
“And now in her quest for answers, she’s in deeper than she realizes,” Maddie mused. “Been there.”
A few moments later, Jack turned onto a tree-lined street and parked in front of a series of brownstones at the bottom of a steep hill. The street leading up the hill was paved in cobblestones, the narrow sidewalks composed of uneven bricks that had settled over time. An American flag—a replica of a colonial design—hung from a flagpole a few houses up. And red, white, and blue blooms for Fourth of July celebrations filled the flower boxes everywhere she looked. The neighborhood seemed frozen in time. Maddie half expected to see the ghosts of long-dead patriots walking along the street as she and Jack began the two-block walk to Claire’s residence.
“And how do we know Claire isn’t home?” Maddie asked as they came to a narrow pathway that ran behind the row of brownstones where Claire lived, allowing access to stone patios and garden space for the residents on either side.
“I took care of it,” Jack told her.
Maddie narrowed her eyes at him. “And how exactly did you do that?”
“She got a tip that Congressman Hale knows she received the flash drive from Tad Ralston and that she is in danger.”
“So . . . you told her the truth,” Maddie said. “How does that ensure she’s away from home?”
“A guardian angel arranged for a room at our hotel under an assumed name until such time that the matter could be handled. She also received a stern warning to give up on this particular pursuit before she got hurt—which, of course, she will ignore.”
“You set her up atourhotel?” Maddie exclaimed as they reached a wrought iron enclosure that surrounded a very pretty flower garden.
“How better to keep an eye on her? And it should give me the opportunity to bump into her before the gala tomorrow evening.” He opened the gate and ushered her inside.
Maddie grunted.I’ll bet.
