At the Pleasure of the President Page 27

  Roman cursed. “Tomorrow, we’ll talk to Holland and find out where her car has been and who might have had access to it.”

  “I’m not sure it matters. According to Elizabeth, next time Krylov will use a bomb.” Zack pushed aside his dark thoughts and tried to concentrate on the investigation. “Do we know anything useful about him or his whereabouts?”

  “Krylov is definitely in the States,” Connor confirmed. “I called a contact I still have at the Agency and they say he’s been in the US for two weeks, but according to them he’s been taking meetings in New York.”

  That meant nothing. It was easy to get to DC from the city. It wouldn’t be hard at all for Krylov to hop on a train or even to drive down.

  “How did he know when Liz would be home? After all, she hadn’t been there for a while.” Gabe asked. “Does he have ESP? Had he been sitting in her living room for days?”

  Or had Elizabeth simply called him?

  “He couldn’t have waited for long.” Connor turned the laptop in front of him, flashing surveillance pictures. “He was seen in Manhattan yesterday. The FBI had a couple of agents tracking him, but if he’s in DC, then they lost him sometime between now and then. According to the agents, he’s been in his hotel room all day, which they admitted they found odd. From what they say, he’s very social when he’s in the city.”

  “Or he’s still in New York and Liz is lying to us.” Roman always had to play devil’s advocate. It was his calling in life.

  “Why would she lie?” Gabe was the naïve one. He’d played corporate games for years, but those never had stakes as high as world domination.

  “Because she’s working with Krylov,” Connor said. “Or at least that’s what’s going through Roman’s head. And if it’s going through Roman’s, it’s going to infect Zack’s thoughts if it already hasn’t.”

  Infect might not be the right word, but Zack was certainly being forced to consider the possibility that his beloved Elizabeth was a traitor. “What did you find out about the security at her apartment building?”

  “The CCTV only covers the exterior entrances, front and back,” Gabe explained. “The manager let me see today’s footage. No Krylov or anyone who looks like him. But this guy is smart, right? Hasn’t he been eluding the authorities and their surveillance for decades? Certainly, he could manage to avoid some rudimentary building cameras.”

  Obviously, Gabe was Team Elizabeth.

  Zack frowned. “Did you show the manager Krylov’s picture?”

  Gabe’s tight jaw told him the answer even before he said the words. “He said he’d never seen the man before. But again, that doesn’t mean Krylov didn’t find another way in. It also doesn’t mean the manager remembered or that he’s telling me the truth.”

  “Why would Krylov flash his mug all over Manhattan but avoid the cameras in DC?” Roman asked. “Why would he treat a visit to Liz’s building differently than any other meeting?”

  “Because he wants to fracture us,” Connor supplied. “It’s what I would do if I were running this op. If he’s able to split Zack off from his closest allies, it leaves the president—his target—vulnerable. In Krylov’s shoes, I wouldn’t go straight after Roman, but I would have studied Zack’s inner circle thoroughly, certainly well enough to know that Roman questions everything. So my goal would be to make Roman believe the woman Zack cares about is duplicitous. It’s the most likely thing to cause trouble between the two of you.”

  “It’s my damn job to question everything.” Roman glared Connor’s way. “It’s always been the way I protect us. Do you think I enjoy being the damn Eeyore of the group? Mad and Gabe were the partiers. Dax and Connor were always thinking about freaking sports, and Zack had a future. I had to be the one who watched our backs when it came to stuff like this.”

  “All I’m saying is, if I were Krylov, I would know that,” Connor replied.

  “Let me get this straight.” Zack took charge of the meeting so it didn’t drag on for hours. “Elizabeth told me Krylov was in her apartment this evening, but we have no proof. If he didn’t waltz in through the front or back entrance, how would he have gotten into the building? And do we have any proof that he forced his way into Elizabeth’s unit?”

  “I didn’t find anything to indicate that he’d picked the lock,” Connor admitted. “Usually that kind of thing leaves trace evidence behind, but it also wouldn’t be terribly hard to steal a key. The manager has a master, I’m sure. I would have gone after that.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that no one at all saw him,” Roman maintained.

  “Do we have any reason to think Freddy might have some Dark Web, back-door connection that could provide additional information?” Zack felt like he was grasping at straws.

  Connor shook his head. “He’s really been an asset to me in reverifying all the White House staffers and Secret Service agents. And with all due respect, that’s more important than checking up on your girl’s story right now. Liz’s guilt…it’s just a theory.”

  “It’s a well thought-out suspicion,” Roman corrected. “Don’t you also think it’s interesting that the two times the syndicate has directly sent a message to us, they’ve used Liz Matthews?”

  That fact had been tormenting Zack for hours. “According to Elizabeth, the syndicate is merely a go-between for a faction of the Russian government. SVR runs the show now, but this plot was hatched by a bunch of KGB men back in my grandfather’s day. They’ve been biding their time until they could get a Hayes in the White House.”

  Roman sighed. “And why would he have told her that? Why explain his whole plan to Liz? And not one of us?”

  Zack knew the answer to that question. “Because I would tell any one of you to suck it up and stop worrying. I can’t do that with her when she’s afraid for me. That man terrorized her.”

  “Or she’s incredibly smart and she’s using your relationship to manipulate you into doing exactly what they want,” Roman pointed out.

  “What is that?” Gabe asked.

  “She wants me to cancel the interview Roman and Gus were going to give about Roman’s ‘relationship’ with Joy.” And since Krylov’s visit, Elizabeth had more ideas about how he should call off the dogs. “In fact, she wants me to deny the story altogether. She also asked me to put off any decision about the pipeline unless I’m willing to scrap the whole thing.”

  Actually, she’d pleaded tearfully with him, swearing that if he didn’t do what Krylov wanted, the syndicate would kill Zack the same way they had Joy. She’d looked terrified. He’d had to hold her until she finally calmed.

  Around Zack, the room had gone quiet, each of them seemingly lost in thought.

  Was it possible Elizabeth was a Russian agent? God, he was an idiot. It wasn’t merely possible; it was the explanation that made the most sense. He’d been trained all his life to think logically, to rationalize his way through a situation and come to the most reasonable conclusion. Now, he had to stop being a man, start being a president, and look at the hard facts.

  One, Elizabeth had worked closely with Joy. In fact, Joy and her father had encouraged him to hire Elizabeth.

  Two, the order to call off the FAA investigation had come from the press office, which Elizabeth ran.

  Three, the initial blackmail threat had been delivered to Elizabeth’s room in London, and the threat against her had neither been directed her way nor difficult to deal with.

  Four, he’d given her—and her alone—information about the fake “secret” meeting that had somehow leaked out.

  Five, now that they had found a way to minimize the threat of blackmail, Krylov had an unverifiable chat with Elizabeth—and no one else—and he magically said the perfect words to make her beg Zack to put himself and his presidency in a corner.

  Damn it, if he denied the story about Joy and Roman he’d planted, not only would he look like a fool when the Russians released the evidence, he would be vulnerable to them again. They would continue to maneuver
the situation in unpredictable ways to forward their game. Could they somehow manipulate matters to ensure Mad couldn’t emerge from hiding, leaving both Zack and Gabe in the crosshairs?

  Zack didn’t doubt they had a solid-as-hell plan. He was tired of running blind, always two paces behind.

  Of course he’d thought they had a good strategy themselves. But the moment he’d made a move, they had plunked the queen squarely in front of him. His queen. They were neatly forcing him into an untenable position, one he couldn’t get out of without hurting her or someone he loved dying.

  They’d been playing this decades-long game so cleverly. They’d placed Joy at his side. But when she’d been unable to manipulate him as needed because he’d never felt true passion for her, why wouldn’t they have tried again with a different type of woman? After all, when they’d expended Joy to put him in the White House, they’d still had a woman on the inside, one poised to manipulate the president of the United States.

  In Elizabeth, they might have found the perfect Mata Hari.

  Or the Russians had another agent in place and were manipulating the situation to make her look like a major player, not the innocent pawn she was.

  Zack’s heart told him one thing. But logic told him which possibility was more likely.

  “What do you want me to do?” Roman’s voice cut through the silence.

  “We should look deeper into Elizabeth’s background.” The words made him sick, but he forced himself to say them.

  Connor’s eyes went stony. “If that’s what it takes.”

  He had to be the president now or his friends could lose their lives, wives, and futures. He didn’t get to go to Elizabeth and plead for her love, beg her to tell him the truth and not be a traitor. He had to play the Russians’ game the dirty way.

  Zack stood. “It does. And Connor, I expect you to be thorough. And don’t breathe a word of this to Lara.”

  “Oh, I won’t tell my wife a thing because she would have my hide.” Connor closed his laptop. “I’ll head over to Dax’s. I want to check on him and Holland. Then I’ll get to work on trying to figure out if Liz is some kind of Russian plant.”

  But he sounded skeptical.

  “I’m serious, Connor,” Zack insisted. This was too important to simply let go.

  “I will do my job, Mr. President,” Connor vowed in a chilly tone.

  “I’ll head over with you.” Gabe crossed the room to stand beside Connor, his keys in hand. “I’ll drive. I need to pick up my wife.” He turned to Zack. “Should I take Liz with us or are you going to send her back to her apartment?”

  “Why would I do that?” He raised a brow.

  Zack had zero intention of letting Elizabeth out of his sight. She always managed to find trouble when she was on her own. He couldn’t allow her to cause more. And if he was wrong about her… Well, he had no intention of letting her get away.

  More than once, Zack had asked himself what he would do if she proved to be a turncoat. He didn’t have an answer. He wasn’t sure he could ever turn her in and allow her to be taken away to a maximum-security federal penitentiary where he would never see her again. First, the scandal would be too great. Second…he didn’t want to live without her. No, better to deal with her in his own way, and he couldn’t do that if he put distance between them now.

  “Earth to Zack?” Gabe called.

  Zack zipped a sharp stare to his old friend. “Elizabeth will stay right where she’s supposed to be. Nothing changes. We can’t give anyone who’s watching us the idea that anything is wrong. It’s best to let them think that their plan is working.”

  “And you’re not even going to ask Liz for her side of the story? I think that’s a mistake,” Gabe said.

  “Have you thought about the fact that if I’m wrong, someone dies?” Zack asked. “I know you’re all looking at me and Roman, thinking we’re monsters for even questioning a woman we’ve always considered a friend. Hell, she’s far more to me, and you know it. Unlike the rest of you, I can count the women I’ve slept with on one hand. When I was younger, I didn’t get to be reckless or wild. I’ve always had to be careful. I’m not going to change at a moment when my mistakes could cost the people I love their lives, and that includes her. If she’s involved, she could get hurt. If she’s not, then she could suffer in an entirely different way. So judge me if you like, walk out of here and tell yourself I’m a cold asshole, but I’m going to find out everything I can so I’ll have all the data possible before I decide how to proceed.”

  Connor held out a hand. “I’m sorry, Zack. I’ll get you everything you need. We all care about her, but you know we’ve got your back.”

  “We do.” Gabe joined Connor. “We’ll back whatever play you come up with. I’ll make sure Liz and Gus have an escort home.”

  They left, and Zack let out a long breath. At least his friends didn’t hate him.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Roman assured. “Go and sit for a while. I’ll wait for the women.”

  Roman always knew when he needed time and space to decompress. “Thanks.”

  He walked out of the room and was immediately followed by a Secret Service agent Thomas trusted. Zack hurried to the residence because he needed quiet and silence. Solitude. So he could think…and worry.

  God, he hoped he didn’t have to mourn, too.

  * * * *

  Liz nodded at the Secret Service agent who stood outside the doorway to the residence and realized how happy she was to have him there. After the day she’d had, an armed guard no longer seemed like an inconvenience or a reminder that privacy was an illusion. It was a reassurance that Russian assholes wouldn’t be lying in wait.

  “Good evening, Ms. Matthews,” he said, opening the door for her. “The president is waiting for you. I hope your evening was a pleasant one.”

  “Thank you.” She didn’t respond about her dreadful, futile evening. It wasn’t as if she could dump everything on him.

  Once she’d fled her apartment, she realized that she hadn’t even retrieved her clothes. Instead, she’d grabbed all the personal belongings she’d set on the counter when she’d walked in, summoned a car, and headed around the corner to a busy coffee shop, where she could at least tell herself she had safety in numbers, to wait. Between there and the White House, she’d called Gus and told her about the entire encounter. Gus had listened, aghast. Then she’d suggested they send a couple of interns over to Liz’s to get her clothes. But that seemed like a bad idea on a couple of fronts.

  And Liz certainly never wanted to walk into that apartment again.

  She sighed as the door closed behind her and she set her purse on the entry table beside Zack’s wallet. He didn’t have to carry one, but he liked to. Force of habit. He often talked about how he missed normal things, like having a set of keys in his pocket. He didn’t drive anymore, but one day, they would do everyday things others took for granted again and it would be wonderful.

  But Liz couldn’t think about cars right now, not after what had happened to Holland tonight. Her friend was a bit sore but thankfully fine, though she’d declared Dax was being overly protective. The woman was far more worried about her car than hearing about the grimmer outcomes that had been possible.

  Holland could have died.

  Next time, the Russians would plant a bomb.

  Next time, they might be targeting Zack.

  The thought made her tremble, but she was determined to not break down again tonight. She’d done enough of that this afternoon.

  Liz walked through the living room, back to their bedroom. Zack hadn’t been waiting with Roman, so she’d known he would retreat here. This was the only place where he could be alone, even if the solitude was mostly an illusion. Roman had said Zack had wanted some space, but she knew what he needed—someone to take care of him, to remind him that everything around him wasn’t horrible.

  He needed her. And god knew she needed him, too.

  Liz found the bedroom empty, but she sa
w his suitcoat draped over the back of a chair. She picked it up and hung it in the closet, the sense of intimacy so sweet it brought tears to her eyes. This was what she’d wanted for years—to be close to him, to have a life with him. They couldn’t lose that now, not when they seemed so close to having everything they’d dreamed of.

  The sound of running water drifted from the bathroom, and she smelled Zack’s soap. The sandalwood scent clung to Zack, and she loved the way it smelled on him.

  The evening so far had been spent on worrying about the future, but they had tonight.

  Liz stripped out of her clothes. After their rough day, being together would at least ensure it ended well. Having Zack working over her, stroking himself deep inside her, then wrapping his arms around her while they slept, would remind them of everything they were fighting for.

  Tomorrow they would get up and again start fighting the mess that would still be waiting, but for these few hours before dawn, they could sink into each other and tune out the rest of the world entirely.

  She walked into the bathroom, the steam from his shower caressing her skin. Making love tonight would be an act of intimacy, but also one of defiance. While she’d sat in Dax and Holland’s living room, she’d thought about how she’d handled things this afternoon—without utter panic. She still believed they needed to back away from the Joy and Roman story, along with the pipeline, until they could collectively devise a better plan. But she hated the fact that she’d broken down. Zack needed her to be strong, to be by his side. Instead, she’d taken strength from him.

  She stepped toward the natural stone shower and simply watched him for a sublime moment. He was the single most beautiful man she’d ever seen. No matter how many times she saw him naked, he still took her breath away. But this time seeing him also hurt her heart because his head was down, one strong arm braced against the shower wall as if he needed the support to hold him up. He had so much weight on his shoulders, and he couldn’t give it to anyone else. The burden was his to bear, and he obviously felt every ounce of it tonight.