Face Off

CHAPTER 34

TERRYN’S WORDS DIDN’T change Laura’s stress at juggling multiple jobs. She appreciated his sympathy, of course, but she didn’t have a choice of skimping on any of her responsibilities. As she worked through the mountain of paper on her public-relations desk, sympathy didn’t make things any easier when she was falling behind.

Saffin carried a small lamp into the office and set it on a low filing cabinet. She threaded the cord down, struggled to plug it in between the cabinet and the wall, then switched on the blue-white light to illuminate the new plants. “That should help.”

Guilt-stricken, Laura ducked her head. “I’m not very good with plants, am I?”

Saffin made a disappointed face. “It’s a crime, really.”

“Gee, thanks. On a more sincere note, thanks for taking care of those files the other day.”

Saffin’s gaze darted to the door as she kneaded her fingers together. She looked at Laura, then nudged the door closed with her foot. “Promise you won’t get mad?”

Laura pursed her lips. “I’ll promise to listen.”

Saffin eased into the guest chair. “When I put away those files, I, um, didn’t do it immediately. I read them.”

A hot spot formed in Laura’s chest, not anger, but disappointment. “Saf, you shouldn’t have done that.”

She twisted her fingers together. “I know. But you were so stressed for time and have so much going on, I thought I could help.”

Laura shook her head. “I’m not mad. It’s as much my fault for letting it happen. But I’m serious, Saf; you can’t do something like that again.”

Crestfallen, she looked down. “I know. I won’t.” Peering from beneath her brow, she smiled slightly. “I think I found the video you were looking for.”

Laura dropped her head in her hands. “Show me. Just . . . show me.”

Saffin hustled around to Laura’s side of the desk. Opening a drawer, she retrieved a memory stick and plugged it into the computer. When the directory appeared, she scrolled through and opened a file. A black-and-white video started playing. From the movement and angle, Laura guessed it was from a helmet camera worn by a Danann agent in flight.

Saffin was right—the video showed a clear view up Pennsylvania Avenue toward the Capitol. An Inverni Guardian hovered in the background up the street, directly across from where Sean Carr had fired. “Is that what you were looking for?” Saffin asked.

The footage riveted Laura. The Guildhouse was out of view to the left of the frame. The advance guards appeared on the sidewalk on either end of the block. Aran and Brinen entered the scene next, followed by Laura in her Mariel glamour, with Draigen beside her. There was no sound, but the action of the next frames indicated the shots had been fired, with Laura shoving Draigen back and Aran and Brinen reacting. The image became chaotic as the Danann wearing the camera swooped down on the sidewalk and took up a new position. When the view returned to the front of the Guildhouse, Draigen’s limo had departed.

The interesting point for Laura was the movement of the unidentified Inverni in the background. As soon as the shots were fired, whoever it was dashed into the building where Sean Carr was found dead. Except she hadn’t found anyone mentioning that in any of the reports.

She played the scene back again. “Is that a man or a woman in the background?” she said.

Saffin peered at the screen. “Can’t tell. The resolution’s not good enough.”

Laura made a note to check the security plan in order to see who had been stationed there. “This is exactly what I was looking for, Saf.”

Saffin preened as she returned to the front of the desk. “Good. And it won’t happen again.”

As Laura chuckled at the irony of the statement, her phone lit up. From the caller ID, she saw it was from Rhys’s assistant. “He needs to see you immediately,” she said, when Laura answered. Then she hung up. Without waiting for a response. Irritated, Laura stared at the phone. She gathered up a pad and pen. “I have to go upstairs. Good work, Saf.”

Saffin spun on her heel. “Thank you, and you’re very welcome.”

When she arrived at Rhys’s office, she marched by the assistant without waiting to be announced. Rhys held a phone to his ear as he waved Laura toward a chair. Above the long credenza, a wide-screen television tuned to the local news station played on mute. Curious, Laura took a seat and watched Jenna Dahl, the station’s star anchor, while the president’s face appeared in an inset. Rhys didn’t speak. After several minutes, he set the phone in its cradle and picked up the television remote. “You’ll want to hear this.”

Dahl’s voice filled the room. “ . . . an investigation into the hiring of an allegedly dangerous fey staff member by the International Global Security Agency is receiving additional scrutiny today. Our sources indicate that the Washington Guild and the White House pressured InterSec to suspend the personnel involved. Now records are showing that a significant sum of money from an unnamed party was paid to Guildmaster Orrin ap Rhys prior to his contact with the White House, raising questions regarding the motivation for the suspension of Cress Leanansidhe as well as other staff at InterSec. We go now for a live report . . .”

Rhys muted the audio again as the screen changed to a local reporter in front of the Guildhouse. “I’ll need a press release within the hour, Laura, denying any bribery took place. I returned the money as soon as I realized it was in my accounts. We can offer to show records, pending approval of legal counsel, of course.”

“Returned to whom?” she asked.

“What?”

“To whom did you return the money?”

He smiled with satisfaction. “Let’s let that unfold elsewhere.”

She felt anger rising. “That’s not good enough, Orrin.”

Rhys glared. “What is the matter with you lately? This leanansidhe business seems to have you unusually upset.”

Frustrated, she shook her head. “You know what has me upset? These mind games you keep playing, then dumping in my lap. I can’t do my job if you don’t give me more warning than thirty seconds before airtime—excuse me, after airtime.”

He grunted as he pushed out of his chair and went to the credenza. “Ah, so it’s procedural, is that it? For a moment, I thought you were going to defend that thing again.”

She couldn’t help raising her voice. “Cress saved lives at the Archives attack. She saved your life and mine, Orrin.”

He poured himself a short glass of brandy. “Twenty-nine people died.”

“Not because of Cress,” Laura said.

Rhys gestured at her with the glass as he resumed his seat. “Ah, there we have it, don’t we? The Inverni were responsible for that. It’s all related.”

She jabbed her finger on his desk. “An Inverni, Orrin. Singular. Simon Alfrey planned and executed the plot and is in custody. You’re playing with people’s lives.”

He infuriated her more by laughing. “Me? I don’t think I’m the one at whom to cast blame, Laura. There are others who are less than pleased with that creature’s existence. I cannot be blamed for taking advantage of the situation.”

She inhaled deeply to calm down. “Who, Orrin? Who are we talking about?”

He leaned back again. “As I said, that will play out elsewhere. Right now, your primary concern is deflecting any negative perceptions of me and this organization. Start taking notes.”

They stared at each other. She wanted to slap the smug look off his face. Whatever happened to Cress, he was making it worse. She knew it, as she knew he didn’t care. He raised a single eyebrow. “Shall we begin?”

She wasn’t Mariel Tate, not when she was working for the Guild. Laura Blackstone had a job to do. Terryn had told her not to expose herself, not to let Rhys know who she was. She broke eye contact and uncapped her pen. “So, you had no idea the money was in your account.”

He smiled. “None.”

Lie, she thought.

Liar.