The President's Daughter Read online

  “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” he replied without inflection. He walked over to the wall beside the door and began to tap lightly along one of the logs, then pressed along its bottom curve. A small part of the log swung open, revealing a minuscule enclosure that held a key.

  He reached around her and unlocked the door, then stepped back with a smile.

  Ashley pulled the door open only to find an inner door, locked, as well. “Your whole family must be paranoid.”

  He offered her the key.

  Once it was unlocked, Nick came in behind her and closed the door, leaving them in dusky shadows. He stepped past her and headed down the hallway toward the back of the house.

  Ashley panicked. “Where are you going?” she asked before she could stop herself.

  He paused in a doorway and looked over his shoulder. “I need to turn on the electricity so we can have lights and hot water. The electrical box is in the basement, as well as the pump to the well.”

  “Oh.” She took a few steps down the hall and looked through an archway into a large room. A stone fireplace took up most of one wall. Stacked firewood was arranged neatly beside it. She leaned in and saw that a staircase went up one wall to a long open balcony upstairs. Several doors opened off the balcony.

  She shivered, feeling the deep chill in the place. She continued down the hallway to the kitchen where an open door revealed a set of stairs that obviously led to the basement.

  She looked around the fully functional kitchen. The place was arranged with a minimum amount of fuss and bother.

  A light suddenly flickered in the shadowy room and she spun around in alarm. She realized that the refrigerator door was open and the light came from inside. Only then did she hear the comforting hum of the appliance and realize that Nick must have turned on the electricity. She immediately flipped on a wall switch and was relieved to banish the shadows in the room.

  She closed the refrigerator door, then opened what looked to be a pantry door. There were canned goods and sealable canisters sitting on shelves inside. At least they weren’t going to starve.

  Nick came into the kitchen and looked around. “Everything seems okay in here,” he commented. “I’ll go start a fire in the other room.”

  She followed him into the great room and sat down on the long sofa in front of the fireplace. With fumbling fingers she tugged off her mittens to remove her boots. Once they were off she massaged her toes and sighed.

  Nick paused and glanced over his shoulder. Seeing her sitting there, he said, “You did really well today. I was impressed.”

  After dragging her all over the snowy countryside, he was now going to patronize her. “Sure you were,” she muttered under her breath. She curled into herself and closed her eyes, resting her head on her knees.

  “Look, Ashley,” Nick said, jolting her out of her peaceful stupor. She opened her eyes and saw him standing in front of her, his hands on his hips. “I know I’m not one of your favorite people, but we’re going to be in each other’s company for a while yet. If you’ve got something to say to me, then say it. I’ve got a lot on my mind, and I’m getting fed up with being the object of your barbed remarks.”

  Ashley felt as though he’d hit her with a flame-thrower. Why did he have to choose this moment to confront her?

  He really looked angry. What had she said to set him off?

  All right. If he wanted to know what she had against him, she would tell him.

  Ashley took a deep breath, released it and said, “You may be the best agent the Treasury Department has, but your people skills leave a great deal to be desired, Agent Logan. I find you arrogant and egotistical. It you don’t like the way I talk to you, then we definitely have something in common. I’m tired of you either barking orders at me or patronizing me. If my responses offend you, then I suggest you might try a more cordial form of communication—or maybe they don’t teach that at your Secret-Service school.”

  She flopped back down on the sofa and closed her eyes once again.

  The silence that filled the room seemed to suck all the air out of the place.

  Later Ashley opened her eyes and realized that she was alone in the room. She felt disoriented. How much time had passed? Where had Nick gone? Her mind was so fuzzy that she was having trouble remembering what she’d said to him. Whatever it was had effectively silenced him.

  Chapter 10

  Nick stood in the master bedroom with his fists clenched, forcing himself to take deep breaths to cool his temper. All right, he’d asked for that, he supposed, and if it helped her to speak her mind, then maybe it had been a good thing. Problem was, he resented the hell out of her attitude, given their present situation. It was obvious to him now that it wasn’t going to improve.

  So the best thing for him to do was to get them back to D.C. as fast as possible. As safely as possible.

  In the meantime they were both past hungry and close to exhaustion. He looked around the bedroom, pleased that whoever had been here last had left the room ready for its next occupant. Sheets, blankets and pillows waited neatly on the foot of the mattress. He quickly made up the bed and found a couple of extra comforters in the closet before returning downstairs.

  He paused at the bottom of the stairs and looked over at Ashley, who was curled up beneath the blanket, still wearing her parka.

  She was sound asleep. Nick stood for several minutes watching her, feeling his anger fade away. If he had to deal with an attitude from her, he much preferred the one she had adopted to one of whimpering, or hysterics, or even a “I can’t go on, this is too much” attitude.

  She’d kept up with him today and he’d set a hard pace. He’d never been so thankful for anything as he’d been when he finally spotted the cabin. He’d begun to think he’d missed it.

  Nick went into the kitchen and opened several cans of vegetables and dumped them into a big pot for stew. He found some canned beef that would add a little flavor.

  He’d always enjoyed coming here as a kid. Nothing ever happened that couldn’t be resolved by a long hike in the woods. He’d missed those times in his life, he realized. Unfortunately a hike wouldn’t resolve anything he was dealing with at the moment.

  While he waited, he called Washington. Chambers answered on the first ring.

  “This is Logan. Do you have an update for me?”

  There was silence on the line. Nick waited. Quietly Chambers said, “The Coast Guard located the yacht earlier today. There’s still no sign of the security ship.”

  “Were they all right?”

  “We don’t know. We found Clarke, his captain and two crew members bound and gagged. The captain was on the bridge, the crew members were in the galley and Clarke was in his stateroom. He said he’d just taken a shower and come out of the head. He got a fleeting glimpse of a black-clothed figure wearing a black ski mask before he was hit over the head, leaving a gash. He was airlifted to the nearest hospital. The others said they didn’t see anyone before they were knocked unconscious. Each of them appeared to be okay. Just shaken.”

  “And the Sullivans?”

  “No sign of any of them. There was a board game set up in the boys’ cabin as though they’d been interrupted playing. They found an open book lying on the table beside the bed in the Sullivans’ stateroom. No sign of a struggle anywhere.”

  “How about the agents who were on board?”

  “Not a sign of them.”

  “The whole deal sounds like a sci-fi movie—an abduction-by-aliens sort of thing. Was there any sign of debris that might have been from the security ship?”

  “Not so far.”

  “Any subs spotted in the area?”

  “Nothing has been reported. We were in constant contact with the security ship. They were returning business-as-usual reports—then all communication suddenly went dead. We have aircraft checking the vicinity, plus Coast Guard units from New Orleans, Pensacola and all points in between searching the Gulf.” Chambers changed the subject. �
�What’s happening out there?”

  “We’re at the safe house, so to speak. Ashley is understandably upset with everything—being ambushed, witnessing Ron’s shooting. I told her we’d lost contact with the yacht, but tried to downplay it. Have you discovered anything regarding the ambush?”

  “Now there’s another peculiar thing. After I spoke to you this morning, I contacted our local office—and got right through. They say they haven’t heard from you, nor have they heard any information about the plane we dispatched to pick you up. I told them to get out to the airport and see what they could find.”

  “Did you mention we had an agent down?”

  Chambers didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice dropped. “No. Until we better understand what’s taking place, I chose to keep Ron’s whereabouts from everyone.”

  Nick felt a certain amount of relief. He had a hunch that Ron was safer the fewer the people who knew where he was. Given that Chambers had decided not to give the local agents all the details, there was reason to believe he suspected their tight-knit group might have been compromised.

  “I appreciate your discretion,” Nick replied dryly. He also realized that by keeping him current on the news regarding the president and his family, Chambers must believe Nick could be trusted. That counted for something.

  Chambers continued, “I spoke to Sam Masters. He said he’d visited with you yesterday.”

  Nick picked up a change in Chambers’s tone.

  “And?”

  There was a pause. “He said you were under a great deal of stress and probably needed that vacation you were knocked out of by this assignment.”

  Now there was some interesting news. He didn’t recall having discussed his vacation plans with Sam at all. So how had he learned of them?

  “Oh, I’m stressed, all right. Maybe I just imagined Ron in the hospital with a nasty bullet wound.”

  Chambers chuckled. “Easy, Logan. No need to take offense. What I find most interesting is the report that came back from the airport. They found the plane sitting in front of one of the hangars, waiting to be boarded.”

  “What did the pilot have to say?”

  “Are you ready for this one? There was no one on board. The agents found no sign of anyone out there—just the empty plane.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  “It certainly stops us from bringing you back using that avenue of transportation. If the plan was to stop Ashley from getting back to Washington, they were successful.”

  “If that’s their strategy, then all I have to do is keep her hidden.”

  “Exactly. I don’t want to know where you are. As a matter of fact, Sam was quite insistent that I tell him how to find you. How close did you say you two are?”

  Nick reviewed the visit he’d had with Sam, and Sam’s report to Chambers. “Not close enough to trust him with more information.”

  “My suggestion is that you sit tight for the time being. As long as Ashley is safe and well taken care of, we can concentrate on what’s going on at this end.”

  “What’s the VP saying?”

  “He’s already upset about the family’s disappearance. He doesn’t want something to happen to Ashley, too. When I told him about the ambush, he agreed to trust your judgment in the matter.”

  “Would it be all right if I have Ashley speak to him? I think she needs some contact with someone other than me at the moment.”

  “That’s right!” Chambers replied, as though remembering something. “You did mention at one time that Ashley has taken an aversion to you.”

  “That’s putting it mildly. She would have much preferred that I had taken that bullet, instead of Ron. It might even have made her day.”

  “Surely you’re exaggerating. Let me talk to her.”

  “She’s asleep right now and I prefer her that way. However, as soon as she’s awake, I’ll put in a call so that you can speak with her, and hopefully you can patch her through to the VP to explain everything that has happened. I need the support, believe me.”

  “If anything breaks on this story, I’ll contact you immediately.”

  “Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.”

  He ended the call, and before he could put the phone down, it rang.

  “Logan,” he said tersely.

  “Nick!” It was Sam. “Where the hell are you? I hear you had some problems getting away from Colorado. I thought you weren’t leaving until tomorrow, anyway. What’s the deal? Ashley get homesick or something?”

  “Something like that.”

  “So where are you? We went out to the airport and there was no sign of anyone there. Nor any sign that you had been there.”

  “Uh-huh. Well, it irritates me when people start shooting at me for no reason. I get down right cranky.”

  “Don’t I know it! I didn’t know about a shooting. Was anybody hurt?”

  “We’re fine. Someone shot the passenger window out of the van, though.”

  “You were damned lucky that no one was hit. So when do you plan to go back to Washington?”

  Thinking fast, Nick replied, “Oh, we’ll use our planned itinerary, after all. After the scare she had, Ashley decided she wasn’t in as big a hurry to get home as she thought.”

  “Do you need a ride to the airport?”

  “Nah. We’ve got everything worked out just fine.”

  “Well, if you need me, just give me a call. You’ve got my numbers, at home and at work.”

  “I know.”

  “I’ll give you a call next time I’m in D.C.”

  “Sounds good, Sam. Thanks for checking on us.”

  Once again Nick concluded the call and absently stuck the phone in his jacket.

  Something wasn’t right. Why was Sam looking for him? How much did Sam really know about the shooting? He hadn’t been home when Nick tried to reach him. Had Sam set him up? Had everything that Sam told him been a lie?

  His main priority right now was to keep Ashley safe. He also wished he could get back to the hospital to see Ron.

  He reached for his phone and punched in the numbers for the hospital. After several minutes he finally got through to the supervising nurse on the surgical ward.

  “This is Agent Nick Logan. I’m calling to find out about my partner, Ron Stevenson.”

  “He is out of recovery and has been assigned a private room in ICU in accordance with instructions. He also has private nursing care around the clock.”

  “That’s good news. Has he regained consciousness?”

  “Yes, but he’s heavily medicated at the moment. It’s necessary that he remain quiet until the damaged area has been given an opportunity to heal.”

  “Could you put me through to his private nurse?”

  “Certainly. One moment.”

  After a few clicks on the line a female voice said, “This is Hazel.”

  “Hi, Hazel. My name is Nick Logan and I’m—”

  “Oh, Agent Logan. I’m so glad you called. Our patient has been asking for you. Would you be able to speak to him?”

  Nick grinned. “You bet I would. Thanks.”

  Ron’s voice was faint when he said, “Nick?”

  “That’s right, partner. How’re ya doing?”

  “Feeling no pain, as they say. What happened?”

  “We still don’t know. Someone was waiting for us when we got to the airfield.”

  “Yeah. I managed to figure that out, since that’s the last thing I remember. The next thing I know I’m laid up in a hospital somewhere with no one to answer any of my questions.”

  “I’ve spoken to Chambers. You might want to give him a call when you’re feeling up to it. He’s not telling anyone that you were hit. I wouldn’t be surprised to find you’ve been registered under another name. And who’s your nurse?”

  “Don’t know her, but she says she’s with the agency.”

  “That figures. And not the local one, I bet?”

  “She says she’s been working in Virginia a
nd was put on an early morning flight out here. All I know is, she was here when I finally figured out where I was.”

  “You get some rest. They tell me you’re doing fine.”

  “Any news from back East?”

  “They found the yacht. Everyone on board was all right. The Sullivans are missing. Sounds like a terrorist attack to me.”

  “Doesn’t sound good for our side. Does Ashley know?”

  “Not yet. I told her we’d lost communication with the yacht, but that’s all.”

  “Is she okay?” Ron asked.

  “She keeps wishing you were here. So do I, for that matter.”

  “That’s good to hear. I’d like to think I’m indispensable.”

  “You want me to call your family or anybody?” Nick asked.

  “Better not. No sense setting off any alarms.”

  “What about your girls?”

  Ron was quiet for a long moment. “No,” he finally said. “I explained I was going out of town and would call when I got home. So they won’t be expecting to hear from me.”

  “You take care now. You’ve got my number. Call me anytime. I mean that. Day or night,” Nick said.

  “Thanks.”

  Hearing Ron’s whispery voice was the best news he’d had. Nick wished he didn’t feel so damned responsible for Ron’s getting hit. He couldn’t come up with anything else he could have done. He’d trusted his instructions. He’d done what he was told to do. As a result, he’d almost gotten his partner killed.

  Nick didn’t like that. Not one bit. He was trying very hard not to take the shooting personally. He couldn’t afford to lose his objectivity in all of this.

  He walked over to the stove and checked the stew. It was ready and so was he. He couldn’t remember the last hot meal he’d had, but it was close to twenty-four hours ago.

  “That smells good.”

  He glanced around and saw Ashley in the doorway of the kitchen, looking rumpled, sleepy and vulnerable. She had removed her parka.

  “Sit down and eat.”

  She needed no further prompting. She hadn’t bothered putting her boots back on and wore only socks on her feet. Ashley silently crossed the room and sat down. He placed a large bowl of stew in front of her, together with a package of crackers he’d found in a sealed container. He set down another bowl across from her, poured them coffee and joined her at the table.