Читать книгу Intimate Betrayal - Donna Hill - Страница 15

James Knight sat erect, waiting to be called in by his superiors. He knew what the questions would be. He was prepared.

“Colonel Knight.”

James looked up, then stood at attention.

“The general will see you now.”

James followed the secretary down the long corridor to the main conference room. Nothing good ever came out of meetings in this room, he reflected morosely. He’d attended enough of them to know.

Moments later, James was sequestered in the conference room full of secret service and high-ranking military staffers. He recognized several of the faces as Special Forces personnel as well.

“I’ll get right to the point of this meeting Colonel Knight,” General Murphy began. “It’s been brought to our attention that your son,” he paused and glanced at his notes, “Maxwell, is being interviewed by Visions Magazine.”

“Yes, sir, he is.”

General Murphy closed the folder and stared at James over the top of his glasses. “How much does he know, Colonel? And what are the chances of this reporter digging far enough back to uncover your activities?”

James cleared his throat and straightened in his seat. “My son knows absolutely nothing about what went on that morning, sir. He was only seventeen years old. As for the reporter, sir, I can’t say what he or she will find out.”

General Murphy pursed his lips, then clasped his hands in front of him. “That, unfortunately, is not good enough, Colonel Knight. We cannot allow even the slightest hint of wrongdoing to be linked to the military.”

“I understand that, General. I…”

“No. I don’t think you do understand, Colonel. We have a situation here. It’s up to you to ensure that your son in no way points this reporter in our direction. Are you aware that the reporter is Hamilton Delaware’s daughter?”

“Yes, sir.” He swallowed back the memories. “She hasn’t remembered anything, sir, or we would have known.”

Murphy waved away his comment. “Do what you must, and we will do the same. Keep me posted.” The general looked down at the files on the table. “You’re dismissed, Colonel.”

James stood at attention and saluted, turned on his heels and strode out. His son was in danger, he realized, the panic building with every step he took down the long, winding corridor. The general’s message was shrouded, but clear. General Murphy would do whatever was necessary to cover the activities under his command. He’d done it once. He’d do it again and again. The Special Forces unit of the Air Force, of which James was still a part, would not be implicated, even if Murphy had to remove everyone with any knowledge of what they’d done.

James returned home feeling as if ten years had been added to his age. He knew what he had to do. Closing the door behind him, he walked into the kitchen, picked up the phone, and dialed his best friend Larry Templeton.

Victoria paced the carpeted living area of her hotel room. It was pure chance that she’d run into Max last night. Her intention was to arrive unannounced at his office. The fact that he’d taken Reese to what had once been their favorite restaurant in L.A. only fueled her anger. She only had three days in L.A. There was no way she could justify her absence from Washington any longer than that. She’d used her business contacts as an excuse for the trip, insisting that she’d be able to get the software manufacturers to mass-produce the new program she’d developed. She knew she had to go back with something. But her mind was on anything but business.

Whether Maxwell took her back or not, she would not sit idly by and let Reese get her privileged little claws into him. She faced herself in the mirror. She’d have to think of something.

Celeste awoke with the sun as she had for most of her adult life. She sat up in her queen-size bed, then sighed heavily. There was no reason to rush. She had nowhere to go and no one to rush to.

Until a year ago, she’d been a practicing RN doing private duty for the Air Force, until her growing illness made even that impossible. At least the money she still received helped. Two thousand dollars arrived in her account like clockwork. It’s funny how twisted life becomes, she lamented. Twenty-eight years ago, she’d been paid to keep a secret. She’d felt outrage, humiliation. But she took it to survive. Thirteen years later, the stakes increased and the secret took on devastating proportions. She’d lived well, but lonely as a result. Now, once again, it was her means of survival.

She turned toward her nightstand to the framed photo of Hamilton Delaware, her one and only love.

With effort she pushed herself up from the bed. “Things could have been so different if you’d only given us a chance. My sister never loved you the way I did. Damn you Hamilton Delaware,” she railed, hot tears of regret streaming down her smooth face of cinnamon. “Damn you for all you’ve done and God help me, I still love you.”

She slipped to her knees and buried her face in the sheets of her bed, her body shaken by the force of her sobs.

The shrill ringing of the phone jarred Reese out of her troubled sleep. For several moments, she thought the sound was only part of the never-ending nightmare that had tortured her throughout the night.

The phone rang again. This time she opened her eyes but quickly shut them against the onslaught of the brilliant sun. With one hand over her eyes, she groped for the phone with the other.

“H-ello?”

“Hey, girl. It’s me Lynnette. I’m at O’Hare on the next flight to L.A. I should be arriving at 5:00 p.m. your time.”

“O-kay,” she mumbled, struggling to get her thoughts to focus.

“Reese,” Lynnette said, suddenly alert to Reese’s disoriented tone. “What’s wrong? Are you sick? I tried calling you all evening.”

“No,” she mumbled. “Really, I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me, Reese. It’s the headaches again, isn’t it? Tell me.”

“Yes,” she cried, burying her face in her hands. “And I don’t know why. I was fine—until—I left Chicago.”

“Something is triggering them. We need to just figure out what it is. What about the nightmares?” She held her breath.

“Those, too,” she admitted in a ragged voice.

“Hang in there, girl. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Thank you, Lynn.”

“It’s gonna be cool. Gotta go, they’re calling my flight.” Lynnette hung up and dashed across the terminal, all the while thinking of her friend who was more like her sister. Growing up as teens, Lynnette had watched in fear, shock, and hurt when Reese would literally collapse under the force of the pain in her head. She’d spent nights with her when out of the blue, Reese would toss and turn, scream unintelligible sounds and practically leap from the bed, eyes wide and unseeing in a cold sweat. Yet she could remember nothing of the dreams.

Lynnette fastened her seatbelt and leaned back. It had been three years since the nightmares had stopped completely. The headaches were manageable. Lynnette closed her eyes. Why now? she wondered.