He whirled around to her, startled. How rare to see him caught off guard.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Reed asked. "You have to get out of here now. You're in great danger!"
She didn't recognize the voice that had dropped an octave.
"You're the Fox? You, Reed?"
"I just got a text. You're supposed to be out shopping. Who came out of your house and walked into a store? Wait, don't tell me—Kate."
"Reed, you're the traitor? How low can you go?"
"You lost the tail I put on you. You came alone—didn't you? To a place fraught with danger. That was very unwise and could cost us both our lives!"
"What the hell are you talking about, Frank Foxworth?"
"I can't explain. They'll be here any minute."
"What the hell's going on, Reed? You're working with Darcy Egan and Zack Walker to rig the election?"
"They think I am. It's complicated."
The reporter in her persisted. "Does it go all the way up to Ken Martin?"
His grim look told her the answer.
"Reed, if you have something to say, say it. Otherwise, know that I'll get you. I've hunted you down. Even you, Reed. I won't let you get away with this—"
"Okay!" He raised his hands in resignation to her will. "I'll tell you this much, and then you'll go. Last year, when the Bureau of Fair Trade dropped its plan to break up my company, more concessions than anyone knew were extracted from me. I met with Martin's closest aides and agreed to do a secret job for them. They were the ones who leaned on their partisan friends at Fair Trade to dismiss the lawsuit against me. It was Martin's closest aides who got them to shelve the plans to destroy my company, and I, in turn, agreed to secretly help them with the reelection campaign."
"You mean, you saved your business by agreeing to destroy our country?"
"When I left you last year, it was to keep you from ever getting involved with this scheme. It was much too dangerous. That's why I had to leave you. I didn't count on you uncovering the whole thing on your own and throwing a monkey wrench in the gears I so carefully set in motion. You're too damn good a journalist, Laura, and it could cost you your life! Yes, you figured it out. Almost. But what you don't know is my real role here."
Just then his phone rang. "That's them. That's their ring." He slid his phone out of his vest pocket and answered it. "Yeah, Velvet. What's up? . . . Okay, I'll wait. Take your time." He ended the call and put his phone back.
"Your friend Sean is a no-show for his presser, so Darcy needs to rehearse another stooge to spit out the talking points. They'll be twenty minutes late." He grabbed her arms. "That gives you time to high-tail it out of here!"
"You said I don't know your real role in this thing. What would that be?"
"That will become clear to you later. But now, you have to go. As it is, I may not . . . This is my last meeting with them. It's very dangerous. If I didn't show up, that would raise their suspicions. So here I am, but I could be walking into a trap. Laura, I may not . . . If I don't . . . I want you to know . . . Oh, Laura . . . "
He pulled her close and kissed her. She felt the hunger of his mouth against hers, the urgency of his hands stroking her shoulders, the longing of his arms pulling her closer. Against her will, she felt her arms winding around him. She lifted his vest and felt the luscious folds of his back through his sweater. She felt the handle of a concealed gun tucked inside a waistband holster at his side. For a moment there was no investigation, no election, no country. Just the sudden release of a desire that had been repressed too long.
Suddenly, a man appeared behind Reed and dug a knife into his back, almost piercing his skin.
"Let her go!" the man demanded. "Let her go now, unless you want to be paralyzed for life."
Both of them recognized the voice. It was Sean Browne.