Twelve miles away from McLean, Virginia, Jack’s wife was getting out of a taxi on Capitol Hill.
Despite the emotional pain she was feeling, when Margo entered the rotunda of the US Capitol Building, her breath caught, just as it always did. No matter how many times she crossed those exquisite mosaic floors she simply had to stop and look up. The majesty of the design with its soaring arches and perfect domes thrilled her, somehow filled her with hope.
Hope had been in short supply since her meeting in Chicago with Charles Kent. The picture he painted of Jack McCarthy and his past was hard to fathom, even harder to accept. The suggestion was that he had done this before: swept some innocent off her feet only to abscond with her fortune.
‘I’m no innocent,’ she had told Mr Kent. ‘I’m a skilled business woman and I know dishonesty when I see it. I can’t explain what happened. But what Jack and I had, what we have,’ she corrected herself, ‘that is real.’
Billy, of course, was apoplectic. He had believed every word and was ready to fund a nationwide manhunt to find the man who had hurt his friend.
When the detective left the office, Margo had asked Billy to please keep his opinions to himself, just this once. ‘I’m going to Washington,’ she said, ‘to talk to the one person I know with enough clout to get to the truth about Jack.’
Three hours later when her plane touched down at Reagan National Airport she found a taxi and headed for Capitol Hill and her friend and former boss.
Kyle Wainwright could fill a room, even one the size of the Capitol Rotunda. He was movie-star good-looking, six foot five, with a shaved head, a luminous smile, and deep brown eyes.
But his physical attributes were not what made him seem larger than life. It was what went on inside the man. Like the revolutionaries depicted in paintings and statuary around the rotunda where Margo stood, Kyle believed things could, and should, be better for every citizen. That’s why she had worked so hard to make him Senator Wainwright.
Now Margo needed something in return.
Kyle crossed the room quickly, nearly crushing her with a bear hug. He motioned for her to follow him. After showing the guard his Senate identification, he led Margo to nearby Statuary Hall. It was a semicircular room of exquisite proportions built in the likeness of an ancient amphitheatre. The room was empty, except for the statues of American icons.
Kyle pulled up two chairs usually reserved for security guards. ‘Tours are over for today so it’ll be quiet here,’ he said. He pulled out his phone and turned some music on. He placed it between them.
‘In Washington it’s best to assume the walls have ears,’ he murmured, adjusting the volume to loud.
‘How are you, Senator?’ Margo tried to smile but failed.
‘It’s still Kyle and I’m fine. But you’re not fine so let’s not waste time on chitchat.’
‘Have you found out something about Jack?’ Margo asked, not sure if she wanted him to say yes or no.
‘I’ve made some friends over at Langley. Good friends.’ Kyle pulled his chair closer to her and lowered his voice. ‘Plus, I’m on a committee that deals with homeland security issues so I have access. Since we spoke this morning, I’ve made some progress.’
‘I’m sorry I had to ask you to call in favours for me,’ Margo said, meaning this. ‘I know how valuable they are in this town.’
‘I don’t give a damn about favours. I care about you. And Margo, I’m not exactly sure what Jack McCarthy is yet, but I know what he’s not. He is not a person you should be in love with, let alone be married to.’
Margo searched his face, a little chill of fear creeping up her spine. ‘It’s a bit late for that, Kyle.’
‘Walk away, Margo. Just walk away. Don’t look for him.’ Kyle took her hands. ‘It’ll be hard but you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever known. You can do it. Walk away and don’t ask any more questions.’
Margo sat for a moment, fighting with memories. ‘You don’t get to decide whom you love,’ she said finally. ‘At least I didn’t.’ Margo took a breath and straightened up, her jaw set. ‘Jack’s it for me. I won’t walk away, no matter what he’s done.’
‘What about what he’s about to do?’
Margo suddenly felt sick. Strangers, hired detectives, they could tell her things and she could choose to believe them or not. Kyle was different. He spoke only the truth.
‘Tell me.’ Her voice was barely a whisper.
‘Walking away will be easier.’
‘Kyle, did you learn nothing about me those years we spent working together?’
‘I figured you’d handle it this way. But I had to try.’
‘So he’s some kind of serial embezzler? He gets women to fall in love with him and then takes their money?’
‘I wish it were as benign as that,’ Kyle said. ‘That’s just part of his legend.’
‘Legend?’
‘The story that’s told to hide the real story. Most operatives in the agency have them,’ Kyle said.
Margo’s face was hot. Things were beginning to click into place. The way she’d met Jack, the fact that he seemed to have no past. ‘He’s with the CIA? He works for the government?’
‘Not any more. And it wasn’t the CIA per se. He was part of an elite group that did special jobs, dangerous jobs. And it seems he set up his own partner, a guy named Marcus. Got him killed for cash.’
‘Marcus was his best friend! They grew up together,’ Margo cried.
‘And were recruited together by one of the agency greats. Guy named Robert Whitbred. Jack ever mention him?’
‘Never,’ Margo said.
‘Word on the street is that Whitbred was like a father to both men. Until Marcus was killed on a mission in the Middle East.’
‘Jack told me Marcus died. He didn’t say how.’
‘I would think not,’ Kyle said. ‘Certain people have been looking for Jack for over two years. He was probably using you as cover.’
Margo couldn’t sit still any more. She jumped up, crossed the room, her heels echoing in the empty chamber. Kyle followed.
‘He’s a killer, Margo.’ Kyle spoke without emotion but his soft brown eyes were filled with compassion. ‘An assassin.’
Margo was shaking now. ‘He’s not a killer. I would know!’
‘Really? What do you really know about this man you married?’
Margo couldn’t hold her friend’s gaze. ‘Nothing, actually. Except that I love him.’
‘The people I talked to need to find him, Margo. They’ve discovered he’s on the move again. They think someone’s hired him to do a job.’
Margo had to steel herself to try to stop the shaking. ‘What kind of job?’ The look on Kyle’s face told her all she needed to know. ‘Who is he supposed to kill?’
‘They don’t know,’ Kyle replied. ‘But they know it must be someone big for him to leave his cover.’
‘This must be a misunderstanding,’ Margo said. ‘We have to find him.’
‘If Jack McCarthy doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be found.’
Margo stared absently at a bronze likeness of some long-dead hero. Then she turned and kissed Kyle on the cheek. ‘I will find him,’ she said. ‘I need to tell him something.’
‘Don’t risk it, Margo.’
‘I have to, Kyle. I need to tell him he’s going to be a father.’
‘Oh, Margo …’ The Senator paused, startled by her words, at a loss.
‘You don’t have to say anything. I’m glad,’ she said, refusing to cry. ‘So very, very happy. And Jack will be too.’
Kyle wrapped her in his arms and held her until she stopped shaking. Then he looked into her eyes. ‘If you need something. Anything … I’m here for you.’
‘I know,’ Margo said, heading for the door and the danger she knew lay ahead.