Without warning, Finn yanked Kate away from the frat boys. ‘Time to cross the street,’ he said, jutting his chin at the nearby crossing.
To his surprise, Kate vehemently shook her head. ‘The quickest route to my townhouse is down Wisconsin Avenue to the canal. It’s only six blocks away.’
‘Maybe so, but I’m starting to get a hinky feeling about all this.’
Like we’re walking right into a trap.
12
‘Quite frankly, I don’t care how you feel. I need to go home.’
Determined to escape the terror of the last few minutes – Those men in the Mercedes wanted to apprehend them. Or worse! – Kate continued down Wisconsin Avenue. Ignoring Finn’s muttered expletive, she limped gracelessly, hobbled by her four-inch-high heels. Breathe deeply. Mind over matter. This, too, shall pass.
Finn manacled her elbow in a powerful, one-handed grip. ‘I don’t think you comprehend the seriousness of our situation. The unfriendlies are still on the prowl.’ In commando mode, he constantly surveyed the environs, his gaze ricocheting from person to street to passing vehicle.
‘These being the same unfriendlies who incited the aforementioned hinkiness.’
‘Can the sarcasm, will ya? The guys in the Mercedes have not called it quits. They are gunnin’ for us.’
Taking exception to his rough tone, Kate pulled her elbow free from his grasp. ‘Just because I gave you a ride earlier, it doesn’t mean that I’m along for the ride. I’m through playing GI Jane.’
‘News flash, Baby Jane: this isn’t a game.’
‘As I am well aware.’
The deeply etched lines on his face relaxed marginally. ‘Okay. Just so we’re on the same page.’ Not breaking stride, Finn shrugged out of his ruined Savile Row jacket and draped it over her shoulders. ‘Here. You need this more than I do. You’re shaking like a leaf.’
The usual effect of terror, I believe. Although, for some inexplicable reason, she was as frightened of Finn McGuire as she was of the thugs in the Mercedes. Totally unpredictable, he’d transformed from Mr Nice Guy into a battle-ready war fighter with an intimidating take-no-prisoners mentality.
At the corner of Blues Alley, Kate gestured to the narrow passage tucked between a tight hedge of red-brick buildings. ‘The alleyway is the quickest route to the canal towpath,’ she informed him, sidestepping the queue of music aficionados waiting to get inside the famous jazz supper club.
Scowling, Finn scrutinized each and every patron. ‘How far are we from your pad?’
‘My house is two blocks away.’
While she routinely used Blues Alley as a short-cut and had trained herself to ignore the scurrying rats and occasional homeless huddle, Finn, his head methodically swivelling from side to side, scanned each and every shadow. Presumably making instantaneous threat assessments.
A few minutes later, they approached the towpath. Kate picked up the pace. Like a wooden lock on the historic canal, the floodgate of relief slowly creaked open inside her. Almost there.
‘I’m the green brick house at the end of the row.’
‘There’s no paved street in front of these houses,’ Finn muttered. ‘Where the hell do you park?’
‘There’s a public garage on Wisconsin Avenue.’
Craning his neck, he peered back in that direction. ‘But that’s two blocks from here.’
Kate made no comment; she lived in one of the city’s most charming neighbourhoods and considered the two blocks a paltry price to pay. Situated a few feet from the C&O Canal, the row of diminutive nineteenth-century townhouses was a far cry from the residence she’d shared with her ex-husband, a six-bedroom palatial mini-mansion in Chevy Chase, Maryland.
While modest, it was her sanctuary.
Immediately following her son’s death and subsequent divorce, she moved into a drab, nondescript high-rise apartment building on Connecticut Avenue. Where, on several occasions, blindsided by grief, she barely got through her front door before she collapsed in the hallway, amidst the corrugated towers of unpacked cardboard boxes. One night she actually stayed there, curled on the parquet floor, until dawn.
The recent move to the little terraced house was her attempt to get on with her life; to move past the heartache of having lost a child. And having been betrayed by the man she once loved.
So far, she’d not had a whole lot of success ‘moving on’. Truth be told, there was a decided sameness to her days. Every Monday and Thursday she went to Safeway for groceries. On Fridays she did her banking. And every Saturday she went to Georgetown Video to check out the new arrivals. Lately, she’d found herself fantasizing about leading a different sort of life.
Given what she’d just been through, sitting with a bowl of buttered popcorn on her lumpy sofa suddenly had a whole new appeal.
When they reached the black wrought-iron railing at her front steps, Kate quickly turned to Finn and said, ‘Thank you for escorting –’
‘I need to perform a security check of the premises,’ he rudely interjected, bulldozing right over her prepared speech.
‘Under no circumstances are you coming inside my house.’ That was an intrusion she couldn’t tolerate, the thought of him roaming inside her house, her sanctuary, more than she could bear. ‘This, Sergeant McGuire, is where we part company and go our separate ways.’
For several drawn-out seconds, he stared intently at her. Caught in a silent battle of wills, Kate held her ground. No easy feat given the ferocity of Finn McGuire’s brown-eyed stare.
To her surprise, Finn blinked. An instant later, he shook his head, surrendering the field.
‘Look. Kate. I’m sorry.’ The mea culpa was issued in short, choppy sentences. His signature speech pattern. ‘I never meant to involve you in this mess.’
‘Apology accepted,’ she mumbled, too weary to hold a grudge. She was moments from retreating inside her house and slamming the door on this horrible night. Dead bolt and chain latch a given.
Extending a hand towards her face, Finn brushed the pad of his thumb against her lips. ‘You got a clot of dried blood in the corner of your mouth.’
‘Somewhere between the crash and the foot race, I must have bitten my lip,’ she said when Finn showed her the blood on his thumb. ‘I was scared as a ninny. Although I’m not exactly sure what a ninny is. I only know that when the Mercedes drove past the alley, I thought –’ Kate self-consciously broke off in mid-babble, unnerved by the intimacy of his touch.
Earlier, at the Pentagon, when he had unexpectedly hopped into her Toyota, Kate had been convinced that there wasn’t a hint of a spark between them. Now she wasn’t so sure. Granted, it’d been a long time since she’d been with a man, but she definitely felt something when Finn touched her lip.
‘Make sure you disinfect that cut with some rubbing alcohol.’
‘Yes, I … I will.’ She unzipped her handbag and rummaged for her keys. ‘That’s strange. I can’t seem to find my –’ She glanced up, surprised to see her key ring dangling from Finn’s middle finger.
‘I lifted them from your bag when we first arrived at the embassy.’
The confession, uttered without a trace of recrimination, stunned her. From the onset, he’d been using her.