Читать книгу The Danforths: Marc, Tanya & Abe: The Laws of Passion / Terms of Surrender / Shocking the Senator - Leanne Banks - Страница 11

Five

He’d had just about all he could take. Marc spent a long grueling day, first watching Dana inspect the SUV, and then watching an FBI technician install bugging devices on his phones. It was so boring that he’d been nearly ecstatic when Uncle Harry called to invite them to Crofthaven for a family dinner meeting.

Normally, a summons to his father’s home would’ve been depressing. But today he was grateful for the diversion.

If he hadn’t had so many truly god-awful days in his lifetime, he would’ve been tempted to call this one the worst day of his life. As it was, the most he could say about today was that it was frustrating.

He wanted to do something to prove his innocence. And he needed to get moving—so he wouldn’t be tempted to obsess over wanting Dana in his arms.

Her FBI boss had asked him to go about his business as usual until a plan to draw out Escalante could be developed. Marc’s style would’ve been more along the lines of breaking into the cartel’s den and beating the truth out of them. But he held back for Dana’s sake, and managed to sit on his hands while she went about her job.

She was so competent and so obviously physically fit that the energy fairly rolled off her well-toned body in waves. He appreciated her intensity about the job and her professionalism—almost as much as he appreciated her lean physique. The more he drooled over her exquisite body while he watched her work, the more determined to keep his hands off of her he became.

Finally, Dana relented and agreed he could drive them over to Crofthaven in his SUV. Behind the wheel, he felt useful and a lot less ineffectual than he had all day.

“Do you go home often?” she asked as he drove them down the narrow highway. Her words were plain enough, but her smoky tones sent electric impulses through his veins and destroyed his resolve.

“Home? You mean Crofthaven?” He felt like a horny teenager whose hormones had turned him into an idiot.

He thought she must be nodding in the affirmative, but he’d decided against trying to catch a glimpse of her while he was driving. Keeping his mind off her body and his eyes on the road seemed like the best bet at the moment.

There were plenty of things for him to regret in his life. Causing an accident because he was ogling an FBI agent wouldn’t be the best thing to add to the list.

“Uh…I don’t exactly consider Crofthaven home,” he said with a croak in his voice. “Actually, I doubt that any of my siblings do, either.”

“But weren’t you raised there? I thought I read that in your file?”

“We had rooms in the house. There’s a world of difference between that and thinking of someplace as home.”

He turned off the highway and headed down the country road that meandered along the Atlantic coast. “I suppose when I was very small and my mother and grandparents were still alive, I thought of Crofthaven as a wonderful home. The grounds are extensive, there’s a private beach and lots of places for a kid to play. But all that changed after Dad came back from Vietnam and then Mother died in a car crash.”

“How old were you when your mother died?”

“Almost five.”

“That must’ve been hard on all of you.”

Marc heard the sympathy in her voice. “It was a long time ago, Dana. Dad hired nannies and then packed us all up and sent us to boarding schools. On holidays and vacations we spent most of our time at Uncle Harry and Aunt Miranda’s house, downtown in Savannah’s historic district. If I thought of anywhere except the farm as home now, it would have to be their house.”

As he drove the SUV closer to the Crofthaven gates, Marc began to notice cars parked along the sides of the roadway. Odd. It looked almost as if someone was holding a big party and more cars had shown up than the parking lot would hold. But that could never happen on a place as vast as Crofthaven.

When he finally realized what was going on, it was nearly too late to do anything about it. “Oh, hell! The local tabloids have arrived. Scrunch down in your seat, Dana.” He stepped on the gas pedal. “I know a secret entrance that the gardeners use. I’ll blow past the reporters and double back. But in case they recognize my SUV, you probably don’t want to be seen with me.”

Her quick shift in position was nearly automatic. “This wouldn’t be a problem if you’d let me drive,” she ground out through gritted teeth from her spot under the dash. Less than thirty seconds later, the SUV slowed. “Are we past them?”

“Yeah. I don’t think they noticed us at all.” Marc took a left and she sat back up in the seat. “The gardener’s gate is on a combination lock. I’ll have to get out to open it.” He pulled in between two rows of dense shrubs and stopped.

“Leave the car running and the door open,” she ordered before he jumped out.

While he was gone, she dug around in her backpack for the FBI-issued SAT phone. Connecting immediately to the special task force that her boss had set up to assist in the investigation and apprehension of Escalante, Dana barked out a few questions. The special agent who answered said he would get back to her.

Marc slid back behind the wheel and drove through the gate. “I don’t think any of the reporters noticed us.” Once through, he slowed the SUV. “I have to relock the gate.”

“I’ll do it.” Dana was out of the SUV in an instant. Undercover operatives usually didn’t have to fight off the glare of the tabloids to do their jobs. How in the world was she going to get through this mission?

“What do you suppose those reporters wanted?” she asked when she returned to the car.

Marc shrugged as he wound the car down a tiny tree-covered lane. “They’re probably waiting for Dad. He’s running for the Senate seat, you know.”

“Those guys looked like they were hot on the trail of a scandal. I have my doubts that they’re the standard political-beat reporters.”

After they’d driven a quarter of a mile up the private lane, she glanced around at the lush landscaping. The green lawn was manicured and trimmed. In the distance, the paved drive that led from the wrought-iron front gates to the main house could be seen, outlined by magnificent oak trees that were covered over by low-hanging mosses. The place looked like a picture postcard of the old South.

Only bigger and richer.

They topped a little crest and were surrounded by an orchard and the flower gardens beyond. The main house stretched out as far as she could see, and seemed to consist of three floors with at least two wings. To Dana’s mind, this place could only be called a mansion. Or maybe she would call it a fairy-tale castle.

Marc drove past gardening sheds and ended up in front of a ten-car garage located behind the mansion. “Hope you don’t mind if we go through the kitchen,” he said. “I don’t want to take a chance on running into any of Dad’s political buddies. They usually meet in one of the front rooms this late in the afternoon.”

“Kitchen’s fine with me.”

By the time they walked through an enclosed porch and then a series of mudrooms, Dana was nearly lost. The place was enormous, and the kitchen was big enough to feed a hundred people. With its professional-looking equipment, she was positive it was set up better than most restaurants.

Marc introduced her to the family’s cook, Florence, as they made their way to a swinging door on the other side of the big kitchen. “Where is everyone, Flo?” he asked.

Before the cook could answer, a paunchy man in his early fifties came through the door. “There you are.” He shook Marc’s hand and beamed at him from under his stock of thick dark hair and bushy eyebrows. “How are you holding up, son? You look tired.”

“I’m all right, Uncle Harry. But I’ll be a lot better when I find the proof to clear my name.” Marc turned to her. “Dana, I’d like for you to meet my uncle, Harold Danforth.”

The older man turned his kind blue eyes in her direction. “Ah yes. The FBI agent who’s going to help clear Marc’s name.” He took her hand. “I’ve heard you are quite capable. Thank you for taking an interest in my nephew. We’ve all been very worried about him.”

“Where’s Dad?” Marc asked his uncle.

“He and Nicola and Jake are in a last minute campaign strategy meeting in the library.”

Marc lowered his voice to a whisper. “What’s with all the reporters outside?”

“Nicola’s best guess is that John Van Gelder’s campaign forces have been spreading rumors that Abraham will be calling a press conference to announce he’s bowing out of the race.”

“What?” Marc asked with force. “But why? There’s hardly a month left until the election.”

Harold looked thoughtful. “I believe its supposed to be due to your arrest. The rumor mill apparently has it that Abraham is so embarrassed by your arrest that he doesn’t want the taint of your crimes to rub off on his good name.” He screwed up his mouth in a scowl. “Humph. As if there’d never been a Senator tainted by family scandals…or by their own personal crimes…for that matter.”

“Well, it’s just…ridiculous,” Marc sputtered.

He was about to say more, but his uncle laid a firm hand on his shoulder. “Don’t give it another thought, Marc. Of course it’s ridiculous. Your father has no intention of quitting. Abraham never quit anything intentionally in his whole life.”

Harold smiled up at his nephew, who stood a good four inches taller. “Your father knows you’re innocent of the charges, and it’s only a matter of time until that’s proven. We all know you’re innocent, Marc. And we want to help.”

Dana was stunned by the tender look she saw in Harold Danforth’s eyes when he spoke to Marc. She’d seen it twice before coming from the Danforths. Those times it had been coming from his brothers, Adam and Ian. And now that same loving look came from his uncle.

The obvious affection gave her a knot in the center of her stomach. Family. Oh, what she would’ve given when she was a child to feel anything resembling that tenderness from her own family.

Not only was Marc a world away from her by reason of his wealth and privilege. But he was also in a different universe when it came to knowing about family trust and honor. She stifled a sigh, quickly deciding that the two of them had nothing on which to build a relationship.

All those little tingles of connection to him she’d been feeling must’ve been coming from her imagination. Or perhaps…it had just been the lust talking. She’d never wanted a man so badly. Her body apparently was confusing desire with caring.

Well, it was time to go back to her job. No more daydreaming about someone who was on the other side of such a great divide.

“I’m on my way to find your aunt Miranda. We’ll be going out to the terrace in a minute to visit with our new daughter-in-law and grandson,” Harold told Dana with a smile. “Jake will be joining us shortly for dinner. He’s very anxious to put his two cents’ worth into any plan that will come to Marc’s defense.” Harold headed back inside the house.

Marc touched her elbow and led her out the way they’d come.

“Who’s Jake?” she whispered.

“Harry and Miranda’s son, Jacob Danforth,” he said under his breath. “He and Adam are the founders of the D & D Coffeehouse chain. Jake and his new wife have been helping with Dad’s campaign during the last couple of months, while most of the rest of us have been tied up with other things. Jake’s an absolute genius when it comes to PR and raising money.”

Dana followed Marc out into shadowy sunshine that was flooding the parklike grounds with golden stripes from a beautiful fall sunset. It was a good thing she had instant memory recall. Just keeping track of all the family members was a chore not many could handle.

* * *

“Marc!” Jake’s son, Peter, spotted them the minute they stepped onto the terrace.

The little boy threw down his toys and raced across the lawn toward them. Marc knelt on one knee and braced himself, spreading his arms out wide. Peter’s chubby little legs churned furiously as the boy shrieked and giggled, running full out. It was a game the two of them had played for several months now, ever since Jake had discovered that he had a son and married Larissa, Peter’s mom.

Peter reached the terrace and flung himself into Marc’s open embrace, knocking both of them over. Marc laughed so hard he barely had the breath left to capture the squirming child against his chest, protecting him from the hard surface as they rolled over.

“Peter, stop that. You’re ruining Marc’s clothes.” Larissa came running toward the terrace, trying to keep a straight face. But it was a losing battle.

Finally, Marc wrestled Peter around and managed to balance them both as he got to his feet. “Okay, partner,” he said to the giggling little boy. “That’s enough now. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Dana eyes were wide and glittering with fun as she watched Peter squirm. Marc dusted the boy off, straightened his T-shirt and hiked up his pants. With every touch, Peter giggled and stomped his feet with laughter.

Marc’s heart skipped wildly with affection for the sweet child. For the first time since he’d lost himself in Dana’s kiss last night, Marc completely forgot about being arrested and framed by the cartel. Nothing could be very wrong in this world as long as children could laugh so freely.

He threw his arm around Peter to keep him still and introduced the boy to Dana. She bent over and extended her hand. “How do you do, Peter?”

“I’m four,” he told her.

Out of breath, Larissa came up on the terrace and swung Peter into her arms. “When someone says ‘how do you do,’ you’re supposed to answer ‘fine thank you’.” She looked as if she was still trying to keep the smile off her face, but her eyes were giggling like a schoolgirl’s.

Marc introduced Dana to Larissa and they made their way over to the huge glass-top table that had been set for dinner. He went past the table and checked the bar for ice, offering both women a drink.

“You two fix yourselves something,” Larissa told them. “I’m going to take Peter inside and clean him up for dinner.” She carried her son off through the French doors. But long after Marc lost sight of the boy, he could still hear Peter chatting on about the meaning of fine.

“Cute kid,” Dana chuckled.

“Yeah, he’s the best. He’s the kind that makes me wish I had a few dozen of my own.”

Dana looked startled for a minute, then she laughed. “Good luck finding a woman that’ll agree to be the mother to such a brood.”

Chuckling along with her, he offered her a drink, but she shook her head. “I’d better keep my mind clear so I can tell one of you family members from the next.”

Just then Jake appeared at the kitchen door. But before Marc could introduce his cousin to Dana, she had to excuse herself to take a cell phone call.

Jake looked after her as she strolled down the garden path talking into the phone. “Didn’t hear the phone buzz, did you? She must’ve had it on silent ring.” He turned back to Marc. “She’s the FBI agent Ian’s been telling us about, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. And she’s really something, Jake. Wait until you talk to her.” Marc couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of Dana’s retreating backside. The way her jeans cupped that rounded bottom and the way she swung her hips when she walked were driving crazy images through his mind.

Jake slapped him on the back and brought his attention back to the moment. “It’s easy to see what you think of her. But you need to keep your mind on getting out of this mess with the cartel.”

Marc turned around to his cousin and narrowed his eyes. “What’s happening with the campaign?”

Jake shook his head. “We’re trying to keep it on track. Nicola has planned a final statewide campaign swing. We leave tomorrow for a couple of weeks’worth of whistle-stops throughout the state.”

“Dad’s still running ahead in the polls, isn’t he?”

“By a wide margin. We’ve been trying to convince him to use your arrest to make a statement about family and privacy. But he’s reluctant to bring it up with the press.”

Marc wasn’t entirely positive the word “reluctant” could ever be applied to his father. He’d always imagined that Abraham Danforth made use of every opportunity to discuss his viewpoints with the public. But before he could ask anything else, the terrace was suddenly bustling with activity.

Larissa came back outside with Peter. Uncle Harry and Aunt Miranda, followed by his father and Nicola, made their entrances through the patio doors. And Dana walked back up the path, stuffing the phone into her backpack. At the same moment, Florence stepped out of the kitchen door and told him that dinner was ready and they would be serving it outside shortly, if everyone could take their seats.

Marc introduced Dana to his assembled family members and to Nicola Granville, his father’s campaign aide. After a rather boisterous dinner, Aunt Miranda took Peter inside for his bath. Miranda was absolutely wild about her newly discovered grandson, and Marc had to agree that the kid was really something.

The rest of the adults stayed seated around the cleared dinner table, drinking coffee and talking about Marc’s predicament with the cartel.

His father had been rather silent throughout the dinner. But Marc was never entirely sure what his dad was thinking about things. The two of them hadn’t been exactly close over the years. Their relationship was more like a superior officer to a raw recruit. Marc supposed it was do to his father’s many years as a Navy SEAL.

“Marc,” his father began from the other end of the table. “Tell me what the FBI plans for you.”

“I think it would be better if Dana told us, Dad.”

Dana was sitting next to him and had been particularly quiet throughout the meal. Now she looked up at the assembled group and smiled.

“My superior, Special Agent in Charge Steve Simon, is completing plans for us. His goal, of course, is ultimately to capture Ernesto Escalante. While he formulates his overall plan, Marc and I are to try to find a way into the cartel to discover a direct link to Escalante. That means—”

“Excuse me, young lady.” Abraham Danforth interrupted Dana with his firm voice and commanding presence. “I’m glad the FBI wants to remove Escalante from the U.S. drug scene. And I know his capture would not only take the strain off my family but would be a great bonus for the FBI. What I want to know is what assistance my son, Marc, can expect from the FBI in return for his help.”

Dana looked only slightly taken aback by such a direct assault from a man who, in a few short months, would likely be sitting on the Senate committee that oversees the Treasury Department and the FBI.

“We will agree to turn over all of our unclassified findings to his attorney to help with his defense,” she replied.

Abraham slowly shook his head, frowning deeply at her. “Not good enough. I want total immunity for Marc. I want all the charges dropped…or none of the family will share any information with the FBI.”

“Dad…” Marc was stunned. What his father was asking was only fair, he supposed. But it might be much more than the FBI was willing to give. All Marc wanted was a chance to prove he was innocent.

Abraham ignored Marc’s interruption and continued to stare at Dana. “And…I want an absolute guarantee of his safety. Are you willing to personally make that guarantee?”

Dana surreptitiously straightened her spine and raised her chin to face Abraham Danforth square on. Marc thought she was the most spectacular woman he’d ever met.

“I can promise Marc…and his family…that I’ll protect his life with my own. However, his complete safety will be partially his own responsibility. He must do exactly as he is told, or the FBI cannot promise anything.” She stopped and took a breath. “As for total immunity…I will put your request through the proper channels.”

Abraham steepled his fingers in front of his face. “I expect that you will.” He turned to face Marc. “Are you willing to temporarily go along with the FBI’s plans without having their assurances on your ultimate deal?”

“Yes. I’m more than willing,” he truthfully told his father. “I have to do something, Dad. I can’t just sit around and let other people decide my fate.”

His father smiled at him—one of Abraham’s very rare smiles. It was so unusual to see the man with anything but a fierce expression on his face, that the whole table was speechless.

Everyone but Nicola. “Please tell us your immediate plans, Dana. We’ve been arranging a statewide campaign swing but perhaps we should stay in town to help Marc.”

Dana relaxed her shoulders. “I talked to my boss right before dinner, and he is still convinced that for the time being Marc and his family should go about their business as if nothing unusual has happened. SAC Simon thinks the cartel will be more likely to contact either Marc or Ian if they think things appear normal.

“Apparently Marc’s brother, Ian, is willing to have him pretend to come into work everyday,” she continued. “As long as I’m there to give him protection.”

Dana hesitated for a second in order to give everyone time to absorb that information. “We’ll be using some of the Danforth office space to set up our investigation. But…” She hesitated yet again. “The biggest problem with the scheme will be the tabloid reporters. I haven’t had a chance to speak to Marc about this, but he’s going to have to find a good excuse for why I’ll be with him at all times and…make it seem normal.”

“You could be his new administrative assistant,” Jake offered.

“No,” Larissa contradicted her husband. “That’s no good. They could be seen together anytime, twenty-four hours a day. The gossip would begin immediately.”

“Well, speaking from an image standpoint, your best defense is a good offense,” Nicola said softly. “Marc and Dana will have to appear to be lovers, about to be engaged, and so much in love they can’t leave each other’s side…even for the work day.

“I’ll schedule a press briefing for first thing in the morning,” Nicola offered. “The tabloids have been trying to find out what Abraham thinks of Marc’s arrest. A good way to deflect it will be if he begins by declaring his son’s innocence and then goes on to announce Marc’s engagement. That’ll change the focus for a while.”

Dana had been afraid someone was going to come up with that solution. There was no way she could ever pass as someone Marc would marry. She didn’t belong to the same social circle. Not even close.

“But…I’m…not prepared to do that kind of undercover operation. I don’t have the right clothes or…the right training. How in the world are we going to convince the paparazzi?”

Everyone at the table smiled at her, but it was Larissa who made the most sense. “I can tell you from personal experience that the tabloids aren’t strictly interested in the truth—as long as it makes a good story.”

Larissa swiveled around to take her new husband’s hand in her own. “But we just happen to have someone in our extended family who’s an expert in ‘scandal’ journalism …not that she’s personally into that kind of thing.”

Jake smiled at his new bride. “Of course.” He turned to Marc. “I’ll bet Jasmine will be willing to help you with the tabloids. You might want to check with her on the information she’s accumulated about the cartel, too. Wes tells me her files on them are quite extensive.”

Marc stuck his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Jasmine,” he began. “I should’ve already thought to ask her about the cartel. I’ll give her a call tonight.”

“Who’s Jasmine?” Dana asked.

“Jasmine Carmody Brooks,” Jake told her. “She recently married Wesley Brooks, my old roommate and my partner in the D & D Coffeehouse chain. It’s a long story. Get Marc to fill you in.”

“And about getting you prepared for this operation,” Nicola said, with a smile in her eyes. “Image consulting is my job. I’ll give you a short lesson this evening.”

She tilted her head and studied Dana, then turned to question Jake. “Do you know if your sister, Imogene, could break away from that gorgeous new husband of her’s tonight? She’s forgotten more about clothes and makeup than most women will ever know.”

Dana’s head was spinning. The names of family members were running around in her brain. And the idea of being anyone’s fiancée, even just for pretend, was making her sweat.

Then Marc reached under the table and squeezed her hand, and everything changed.