Page 96 of Dangerous Liaisons

Chapter Sixty-Nine

Jesse glanced down at the standard OIA navy blue suit coat, skirt, and heels she wore, still unable to believe she rode in a Hummer with Cole on the way to arrest Helen Lanton. Jesse cast a covert glance at Cole, whose attention remained fixed straight ahead. He wore a pinstripe suit, black tie and black wingtips. Wingtips. The only similarities in their outfits were the badges affixed to their jackets’ breast pockets, his, with the name Cole Smith.

Followed by two black Crown Victoria sedans, Cole pulled into the driveway of a two million dollar, white Federal-style home in Georgetown. A round front porch adorned the façade, with the same shaped balcony above, supported by four columns. Green shutters, and landscaped flower borders outlining a manicured lawn completed the picture-perfect disguise. Cole cut the engine. He flashed an encouraging smile, then reached for the door handle.

The FBI agents in the black sedans had been instructed to give Jesse and Cole the opportunity to get Helen Lanton to the door, then they would leave their cars and make the arrest. Jess followed Cole along a brickwork sidewalk to the front porch. She noticed the perfectly trimmed dwarf English Boxwoods. Just like the ones she and Amanda would have had outside their Paris chalet. Cole stepped up to the massive forest-green door with its shiny brass kick plate and rang the bell.

A maid opened the door.

“Ma’am,” Cole said. “We’re agents Smith and Evans, here to see Helen Lanton.”

The woman’s gaze flicked to his badge. “One moment.”

She turned and, before the door shut, Jesse caught sight of an antique, colonial-period mirror and Oriental rug.

A moment later, the door reopened. A petite brunette with high cheekbones and pouty lips stood in the doorway. Tops, she weighed a hundred pounds. A chill grazed Jesse’s shoulders. And all along, she’d thought Lanton was the bad ass. Jesse met her gaze. “Helen Lanton?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“I’m agent Evans, this is agent Smith.” A look of recognition flickered in Helen Lanton’s eyes.

Her gaze flicked past Jesse as car doors slammed shut, then returned to Jess. “What’s this about?”

Jesse wanted to shout, For murdering six men! but only moved aside for the men who stepped onto the porch. Helen Lanton’s eyes shifted to the older man, who reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a palm-sized, black leather case. He flipped open the case to reveal an FBI badge and ID card.

“Helen Lanton, I’m agent Brooks. You’re under arrest for conspiracy and the murder of your husband, Robert Lanton, a Federal Agent.”

Brooks brushed past Jesse and Cole, followed by the other three men. “Helen Lanton,” he said as he carefully spun her around and reached back to pull handcuffs from his belt, “you have the right to remain silent.” He clamped them on her wrists, then turned her to facing him. “Anything you say and do…”

Jesse’s blood cooled another notch when Helen Lanton met and held her gaze. No denial, no tears…no emotion. Brooks directed her down the sidewalk toward the waiting cars, reciting the rest of her Miranda Rights. Another agent opened the back door of their black Crown Vic and Brooks pressed her head down as they placed her in the backseat.

Jesse looked at Cole.

“You ready?” he asked.

She nodded. As ready as she’d ever be.