DAWN WAS BREAKING, but C.J. surveyed the waiting room area with crisp alertness. Bailey was sound asleep, stretched out on a couch, her head resting on the vice president’s lap. Clay had propped his legs up on a table, his own head thrown back; he was dozing, too. At six a.m., most of the O’Neils were either sleeping or resting quietly with their thoughts. Liam had his arm around his mother, holding her close. The support and love in this room was tangible. It made C.J. sad to be around what she once had and lost, by her own making.
When the homey scene became suffocating, she crossed to Mitch. “I’m going to the john. “
Wide awake, he rubbed his hand over his stubbly jaw. “Do me a favor?”
“Maybe. If you’re nice.”
Even though he was the head of Bailey’s detail, and technically her boss, she could tease him because they had a special bond. He was one of the few people in the service who knew her whole history. Since he’d once been in the interrogation division, over the four years she’d known him, he’d dragged everything out of her.
“Check up on Aidan. He’s been gone a half hour.”
“You don’t think he’s in any danger, do you?” Kidnapping of a protectee’s family was always a looming threat. However, the danger was usually to the spouse and children.
“No, I don’t. But like I said at CCU, since the media was here, other people could know we’re in town. Grayson” —another of Bailey’s agents— “is checking the morning news to see if our presence here is public knowledge. I’d feel better keeping track of this whole family for a while.”
“Sure. Any idea where he is?”
Dylan had awakened and was crossing to the coffeepot. He stopped by them. “I overheard you asking about Aidan. My guess is he’s in the chapel.”
That surprised her. It shouldn’t, though. These people were Irish and Catholic. Not unlike her Polish family, who prayed before every meal and went to church every single Sunday.
C.J. hit the ladies’ room then went in search of the chapel. She found a small one down the corridor from the private waiting area. The space housed only eight pews, an altar and a wooden cross. On the outside walls were stained-glass windows. Like many churches, candles scented the air. Aidan sat in one of the pews, his shoulders slumped and his head bent, his blue thermal top stretching across broad shoulders. She was about to go inside, when she realized he was talking.
She should leave—he was safe—but she didn’t. For some reason, his words, spoken aloud, mesmerized her. So she stepped into the shadows and blatantly eavesdropped.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was sandpapery. “I didn’t think...I didn’t know...Oh, hell, I knew Pa would be pissed that I wanted to leave the business. He has this thing about keeping us boys together, but I thought he’d understand. I expected he’d fuss, but in the end, he’d give me his blessing. Damn it!”
C.J. hadn’t ever heard anybody swear at God.
“If you let him be okay, I’ll stay. I’ll forget about the stupid prize. The chance to do my photography full-time. I promise.”
As she listened to his words, caught the hoarse tone of his voice, C.J.’s throat got tight. She was well acquainted with the kind of deal he was trying to make with God. When her brother was a Secret Service agent, she’d done the same thing. If Lukasz is okay, and calls this Monday like always, I’ll go to Mass an extra day...If he comes home for a little while, I’ll be nicer to the twins. And then that heart-stopping time he’d been undercover trying to ferret out suspected school violence and was beaten badly by some punks...Please, please, God, if you let him recover, I’ll stay in New York and take care of.
The last was a promise C.J. had broken. Lukasz had gotten better, then the roof caved in a few months later when she told her family that instead of continuing her work as an interpreter at the UN, she had new career plans she’d been putting in place for months. Because they couldn’t understand her choices, she entered the service under strained circumstances. Her contact with her family now was limited, though she was on the Ludzecky e-mail loop, which she read vigilantly but didn’t post much. What could she say? For the same reasons, she didn’t go home to Queens much to visit.
Apparently, the weeping man in the front pew had also tried to find his own way by breaking off from the family business, and now felt he caused his father’s heart attack. That was dumb, but guilt, C.J. knew, could be as irrational as hope.
She moved in the half-open doorway, which made her presence known.
He turned around. “Who’s there?”
“Agent Ludzecky. I’ve come to see if you’re all right.”
No answer.
“Mr. O’Neil?”
“Come in a minute.”
Again she hesitated. The thing inside her that made her a top-notch agent—knowing when to check out someone in a crowd, when to put herself in front of Bailey or the kids, when to draw her piece—stirred inside her. Talking to this man alone wasn’t a good idea. Still, she made the short trip down the aisle. He scooted over, signaling for her to sit. “I’ll go back...” His face blanked. “Oh, shit, has something changed with Pa?”
“No, no. My partner wanted me to check on you. We’re being overly vigilant because there was a reporter in the reception area when we came in, and” —she shrugged— “we’d rather be safe than sorry.”
“Glad to hear that. My sister’s welfare is vital to me.”
She wanted to comment on how close they seemed, but didn’t. Stay detached, she warned herself. Stay distant from these people who were filled with so much love it was palpable.
As if he knew her thoughts, he said, “We’re so close. It’s spooky sometimes.”
Smiling, she remembered Luke’s words...Christ, Cat, you can read my mind. That’s spooky.
Aidan glanced over at the woman beside him. He’d watched her during the night, was intrigued by her demeanor. And he’d appreciated the distraction from his own worry over Pa that she’d provided. “Do you have a family, Agent Ludzecky?”
For a minute she’d relaxed, but now the starch stiffened up her body again. “I, um, yes. Of course, I do.”
“Where?”
“Where what?”
“Where are you from?”
“Here, New York. Queens. “
“Will you see them this trip?”
She’d been staring ahead, but now she looked at him. “No, I don’t have time off like regular people. I...” She stopped herself, as if she’d said more than she wanted to. “It’s not protocol to talk about my personal life with you.”
Her brows were thick, unplucked and wheat colored. Up close he could see that her eyes were a light brown, almost amber, with flecks of green sprinkled in. Their shape was unique. He wanted to photograph just those eyes.
He said finally, “Surely your code, or whatever it is, doesn’t mean you can’t make polite chitchat.”
“It’s recommended we don’t get friendly with protectees or their families.”
“I can’t believe Bailey lets you get away with that.”
A chuckle escaped her. “No, she doesn’t like distance. But mostly it’s the little ones...”
When she trailed off, Aidan seized on her slip. “How are my niece and nephew? I assume Anika is taking care of them tonight.” Their German nanny was a delight and Aidan loved to flirt with her and make her blush.
“Yes, she is.”
“I helped raise Rory, you know. You call him Bruiser, right?”
“You shouldn’t know that,” she said scowling. Code names were supposed to be kept from the public and press.
“I do. Apt name.”
She seemed to smile in spite of herself. “We had him designated as Buddy, but he found out and wanted a manly name. He’s a pistol.” C.J. shook her head, looking more woman than agent. “He hounds the vice president to tag along with him. Mr. Wainwright takes Rory everywhere he can and the staff has to scuttle to accommodate them. They love the kid, of course; he’s become sort of a mascot at the offices.”
Since she was more comfortable with this topic, he pursued it. “How about Angel?” He winked at C.J. “Blue Eyes, right?”
Her gaze narrowed on him.
“I hate that I don’t get to spend much time with her.”
“She’s beautiful.” So was Agent Ludzecky’s face, when it got all soft and feminine, like now, as she began talking about Angel. “She’s into everything since she got the hang of walking. And running.”
“Bay called me when she took her first steps. Angel did that late, didn’t she?”
“Yes. That’s because everybody does everything for her. I remember when my sister Elizabeita was born. We all jumped when she wanted food or a toy.”
“Elizabeita is a beautiful name. What does C.J. stand for?”
“Huh?” Shoulders tensed. Agent Ludzecky resurfaced.
He wondered what kind of woman hid beneath the light wool suit, was tucked away in the knot she’d pulled her hair into.
“I asked what C.J. stood for.”
Abruptly she stood. “I should be getting back. I—”
Someone came to the doorway. They both turned around. C.J.’s hand slipped inside her suit coat and Aidan caught a glint of silver at her hip.
One of Clay’s agents, Jenkins, stood poised in the back of the chapel. Aidan had spent some time in his presence and liked him. “Aidan, Ludzecky, come with me.”
Alarmed, Aidan bolted up. “Is, is...” He reached out and grabbed C.J.’s arm. Clutched it.
“Everybody’s fine. The cardiologist is ready to talk to you. His team has a diagnosis.”
Aidan’s body felt ready to implode. “Any good news?”
“I don’t have that information. Calloway radioed me when I went to do a sweep of the halls.” Jenkins walked halfway down the aisle and his eyes narrowed on Aidan’s grip on C.J.
She said, “Come on, Mr. O’Neil. Let’s go see what’s happening with your father.”
o0o
“As YOU KNOW, Mr. O’Neil has had a heart attack. The problem is in two of his arteries—one is ninety percent closed, the other is completely blocked.” Dr. Hargrove frowned. “Our recommendation is that surgery be performed this morning.”
Liam’s mother, Mary Kate O’Neil, grasped onto his arm. “So soon?”
Glancing at his watch, the cardiac surgeon nodded. He was a tall man with a shock of salt-and-pepper hair, kind brown eyes and an air of authority, which felt good right now. “The team’s here. We can get started ASAP.”
“How serious is his condition?” Liam asked, thinking about the frailty of human life. Three years ago his wife, Kitty, had succumbed to cancer. Though the pain had dulled, and he could get up in the morning now without having to force himself from the bed, he was worried about his family weathering yet another loss if Pa didn’t make it. The fact that his full-of-piss-and-vinegar father might die just about broke his heart.
“Mr. O’Neil needs a double bypass. There’s significant risk from any surgery,” the doctor told them. “But there’s more risk for your father if we were to leave his condition unattended. I’ve done hundreds of these operations—they’re fairly routine now. And he’s in decent shape for a man nearing seventy.”
Next to their mother, Bailey leaned into Aidan, who had his arm around her. The blond Secret Service agent stood across the room. Bailey said, “Dad walks every day.”
“And eats right. I make him,” their mother added.
“All that’s going to help his recovery.” Dr. Hargrove looked to Clay. “I take it you’re comfortable in this waiting area. Do you need anything sent up?”
Clay glanced at Bailey. “We’re comfortable. Mrs. Denny is helping the agents with food for us.”
“For security reasons,” Mitch put in, “we don’t want to spend time in the cafeteria. Besides, the food has to be checked or brought in specifically for the vice president.”
The doctor looked surprised. Liam wasn’t. Once Clay had been elected, he’d studied up on the protection available to his brother-in-law and sister. Given 9/11 and also Bailey’s gang activities, both she and Clay received special attention. In addition to their personal agents who were inside the room, two others had stood as sentries in the corridor, while agents in uniform were outside the hospital. Cleary, his twelve-year-old, would’ve gotten a kick out of seeing them—he was fascinated by Bailey’s position as wife of the VP. Not so with Mikey. Since Kitty died and Bailey moved away, the boy was getting more and more introverted. And now Pa was sick. Liam shuddered thinking about the effect of his father’s illness on his younger boy. Since Bailey left town for Washington, a semiretired Paddy O’Neil had stepped in and spent more time with his troubled grandson.
Mary Kate clasped Liam’s arm. “The little ones? They’re taken care of?”
“Yes, Mama,” Patrick said. “Brie’s got Cleary and Mikey, and our kids.” Pat’s wife was a godsend in an emergency. “And Hogan’s with his mother.” Dylan’s ex wasn’t around much, but she was in town this week. At thirteen, his son Hogan was torn about his mother’s absences, as he had been when they were together.
“With the new baby, can Brie handle everything?”
“We got help, Mama.”
Things still weren’t right with Liam’s oldest brother and his wife, Brie, either. They’d been separated for more than a year. Then she’d gotten pregnant after she hooked up with Pat one night, and they’d reconciled—sort of. Liam and Brie were close; she was a big help with Mikey, and because of proximity, he knew about the strain in their relationship. It was obvious Paddy was having a hard time.
“Can we see Pa before his surgery?” This from Bailey.
“Of course. You can go in one at a time.” The doctor nodded to Clay. “Except for you two. Your bodyguards can accompany you.”
Clay shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. Our agents have swept CCU and are in the corridor now. The nurse has also been checked out. They can stand post outside the door.”
Dr. Hargrove glanced at his watch. “Make it fast. We need to prep him within the half hour.”
Liam’s mother went into the CCU first, and the others settled on various couches. Over the next half hour, they visited Pa. When Liam’s turn came up, he went inside the room with hesitant steps. His big, strong father was attached to machines and his color was grayish. Pretending to be cool, like he always did with his family these days or they’d hover, he sat in the chair next to the bed. “Hey, Pa.”
“Son.” His father reached for Liam’s hand. Blue veins stood out on his skin, which had gotten leathery with age. “How’s Mikey?”
“He doesn’t know about your heart attack yet.”
“I’m worried about him. How he’ll take this.”
So am I. “You worry about yourself. I’ll take care of my boy.”
“Too much loss,” Pa mumbled, closing his eyes.
Liam leaned over and kissed his father’s head. “Rest, Pa.”
When he returned to the waiting room, he noticed Aidan, standing by the window, staring out as the city woke up. Liam crossed to him. “Your turn, buddy.”
Aidan shook his head. “I think I’ll hold off. Don’t want to tire him out.”
“Something’s wrong.” Liam kept his tone calm. He’d been watching his kid brother through the night. “Spill it.”
“I’m worried about Pa is all.”
“Nope, it’s more than that.”
Blue eyes full of pain focused on him. “I did something. I can’t talk about it.”
“Is it about Pa?”
Aidan nodded.
“Can you talk to Bailey?”
Though sometimes it rankled, the other brothers pretty much accepted Bailey and Aidan’s special bond. They were only a year apart, and they’d gone to college in Rochester together. Paddy and Liam never went on with their education after high school, though five years ago, Dylan surprised everybody by getting a degree in journalism from Columbia without anybody in the family knowing he’d been attending classes.
“I’ll talk to her about it. Later.”
“I think you should see Pa.”
“Not now.”
Remembering his own searing loss, Liam touched Aidan’s arm. “You may not have another chance, kid. I think he’s going to be all right, but you can never tell.”
His brother’s eyes misted. “You’re right. I know. I...”
“I’ll go in with you, if you want.”
“They said one at a time.”
He nodded to C.J. “She went in with Bailey when they first got here.”
Aidan gave a boyish shrug and some of his charm seeped out from his grim exterior. “Yeah, but you’re not as pretty.”
“She’s pretty?”
Aidan shook his head. “Gotta start noticing those things again, bro.”
“I know, I will. Now let’s go see Pa.”
“All right.”
They headed out together, passing the agents. He guessed the woman was pretty. For thirty-six months and three weeks, Liam had been in a kind of frozen state, an emotional suspended animation. He never noticed women. But acknowledging the agent’s looks might signal his coming out of it.
Which scared the hell out of him. Like frostbite warming up, he knew the return of these feelings was going to hurt. But he banished the fear. His family needed him now and he’d put their welfare first.