Martha was so deeply asleep that it took her about thirty seconds even to become aware of the sound of her alarm. She tried to slam it off but found herself unable to move. She tried again with the same result and finally realized that Aaron's arms were wrapped around her and his head was nestled against her chest. She desisted, kissing the top of his head and waiting for him to loosen his grip; instead he pulled her closer. Though his eyes remained closed, Martha was able to discern a tiny smirk on his face as she peered at him.
She settled her hand on the small of his back. "That alarm isn't going to turn itself off, you know."
"Alarm? What alarm?" he mumbled.
Martha began to laugh, hugging him tightly and rubbing her cheek against his. "Good morning, Agent Pierce. I love you," she whispered in his ear. Aaron reached up, kissed her squarely on the mouth and then rolled over to turn off the alarm himself. Slumping back onto the pillows, he squinted at the digital display. "Eight-thirty. Is there something we're supposed to do today?"
"Agent Cardona is coming at ten. He's got the paperwork for your sick leave and he was going to help you with your luggage and drive you back to your car."
"Oh, right. And I've got to pick up my mail." Aaron looked unenthused at the prospect of a day of errands. "Did you sleep okay?"
"Very well. I was really tired. You?"
"Like a log. That pain pill really knocked me out. I don't remember a thing after you came in last night." He suddenly frowned. "Did something happen? You looked worried."
"Yes. Let me show you." Martha reached to the foot of the bed where she'd tossed her robe the night before. "I found this under that bowl that was left here the day I moved in."
Aaron glanced at the note and immediately shot upright in bed. "Damn!" He winced as the sudden movement jostled his injury. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"You know why," she answered firmly. "You were exhausted, you'd had a long plane flight and you've just gotten out of the hospital. Angie and Agent Cardona had already left by the time I found it. I checked the whole apartment; I didn't find anything wrong. The door hasn't been forced and nothing's been taken. I talked to the agent on duty. He isn't sure, but it looks as though there weren't any agents assigned here while we were out of town. It could have been left here days ago."
"The place could still have been booby trapped." Aaron's expression didn't lighten.
"Then why bother to warn me? It looks like they're trying to enlist me to run their errands for them."
"It looks that way to me too." Aaron slipped his arms around her waist from behind and pulled her against him. "I hate to think of you getting dragged into this."
She turned around and kissed him. "I'm already in it, up to my eyeballs. I'm not going to let these people chase me out of town, Aaron. I don't know who they are, but I know they must be scared or they wouldn't be taking this kind of risk. I mean, breaking into my apartment? All they've really done is confirm that there's a conspiracy. They're exposing themselves."
He smiled. "You're right. I think. I'm not awake enough yet to really figure it out. Let's wait until Jon gets here and we can talk to him about it."
"Okay. I'm going to get breakfast. Is oatmeal all right? I haven't had a chance to get groceries yet."
"That sounds great, but coffee would be enough—"
Martha shot him a look. "You haven't had anything to eat in almost twenty-four hours. Go ahead and shower and breakfast should be ready when you're done." She started to get out of bed, then hesitated and hugged him close. "I'm really glad you're here. And I wish we didn't have to get up."
"Well, there's always tonight," he said softly.
She ran a finger inside the neck of his T-shirt. "In that case, leave your toothbrush here." She gave herself a second to enjoy his startled look, kissed him again and jumped out of bed.
Cardona's reaction to viewing the note was similar to Aaron's. He confirmed that no one from the Service had been assigned to Martha's apartment building during her trip to Russia. "I didn't think it was necessary, Mrs. Logan. I'm sorry, but this building is supposed to have the best security in town. I just can't believe this. I'll talk to the supervisor and try to figure out what happened."
"It's all right, Agent Cardona. Something similar to this happened the day I moved in, and Colonel Johnston and I talked to the staff then. We didn't find anything out. Neither did the police."
"Whoever this was, they know what they're doing," Aaron commented. "No fingerprints, no forced entry… could they have gotten a key somehow?"
Martha glanced between them. "Should I get the lock changed?"
"It can't hurt. At least it would make things more difficult for them. I'll see to that for you, Mrs. Logan." Aaron found himself being whisked off by Cardona, but managed to whisper "I'll call you later" as they headed out the door.
After emailing her grocery delivery order Martha shuffled quickly through her mail, setting anything official aside for Angie to deal with later. Her agenda included two phone calls, one to Susan Margate and one to Mike. She decided to call Susan first.
"Oh, Martha, I'm glad you called. Thanks for faxing back those papers. Your divorce is final, but I've been talking to James Warren—Mr. Logan's attorney—and there are some issues with regard to your community property that you need to know about."
"What sort of issues?"
"Mr. Logan is being sued in civil court for damages related to the day of the attacks. You know how many people were killed that day by the nerve gas alone."
Martha sighed. "Yes, I know."
"Well, by the time all the lawsuits are settled he may not have anything left. Any assets the two of you owned jointly are subject to claims for damages."
After a long pause: "Oh, my God. I can't believe this."
"I'm really sorry, Martha. I'll do what I can, but you may not be able to claim much from the divorce."
"But nothing I'm earning currently can be seized, can it?"
"Absolutely not."
"Listen, Susan. After what I've been through the last few months, the money is the least of it. I'm not going to starve, I know that. But there are a few things I'd really like to make sure don't get taken away. My parents left me a trust fund that's in my name; Charles never had anything to do with it. And a few personal items, some furniture and some things from the ranch… we aren't talking about a lot, but is there any way I can make sure they're protected?"
"We can try. Make a list of anything you really want. If it's okay with you, I'm going to call somebody I know who specializes in personal property law. If your ex-husband was never associated with that trust fund it should be safe, but I want to make sure."
"Go ahead." Martha hung up and grabbed a notepad and pen, wrote down one or two items and then remembered her pending phone call to Novick. She dialed his work number and used her time on hold to continue her list.
"Martha?"
"Hi, Mike."
His voice was shaken. "Are you okay? Hal Gardner told me about the attack. I'm so sorry, Martha, I didn't know…"
"Don't blame yourself, Mike. How were you to know? But as a matter of fact that's why I'm calling. I wanted to ask—"
"Wait, Martha. I know what you want to ask, but I don't think we should do this over the phone. Can you meet me for lunch?"
Martha was waiting in the restaurant lobby when Mike arrived. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before turning to the maitre d', who obviously knew who he was: "I have your booth in the back as you requested, Mr. Novick." In a few moments they were seated and Martha was perusing the menu ("I always get the same thing," shrugged Novick, "it saves time.") She quickly chose a salad and then, with the waiter out of earshot, Mike leaned forward.
"All right, Martha. I'm sorry to put you to this trouble, but I thought we'd better be careful. When I met with the President, he set up a fictitious meeting so that I'd have an excuse for going to the White House. I just didn't know if it would be safe for us to talk on the phone or not."
Uneasily, Martha thought back to Cardona's suspicion that their conversations in the Kremlin had been overheard. What if her apartment had been bugged as well? "You may be right, Mike. It's better not to take the chance."
Novick glanced around the restaurant before continuing. "President Gardner wanted to know if I told anyone about you going to Russia. I did. I told Gene Dunlap when I ran into him at a reception. Since he's Charles's attorney I assumed it would be okay, but according to Gardner there's a chance he's involved in this conspiracy."
"It fits, Mike. It explains how Charles was able to leak information from prison, and from what I've heard Mr. Dunlap's ethical reputation is not very good. I think he was probably assigned to defend Charles by whoever was directing this plan, and he tried to cover himself by having his partner handle most of it."
"But he's also very successful. He's one of the big go-to guys for criminal defense," Mike pointed out. "Why would he run the risk of endangering his career by getting involved in something like this? Unless he was forced into it."
"Blackmail?"
"It's possible. When you run with the Mafia…" Novick shrugged. "Who knows?"
The waiter arrived with their orders, putting a halt to the conversation for the moment. Starting her salad, Martha silently pondered the information Mike had given her. Her thoughts were interrupted by his next question: "Do you think Charles knew about this?"
"Maybe, but maybe not. If you mean do I think he leaked the information about my trip, no, I don't. Charles still cares enough about me that I don't believe he would have done anything to put me in danger. In fact, if he doesn't know and he finds out that his attorney is the one who was responsible—" Martha looked at Novick. "I think I'm going to have to talk to Charles again."
Martha's phone rang as she was leaving the restaurant; checking the display, she saw that it was Aaron.
"Aaron? How are you feeling?"
"A little tired, but basically okay. Just calling to check in. What do you want to do about dinner tonight?"
"I've been so busy I haven't had time to think about it. I just spent an hour having lunch with Mike Novick. I've got a lot to tell you."
"Do you want me to pick something up? Pizza okay?"
"That sounds fine. Aaron, I've been thinking. Is it possible that whoever got into my apartment could have bugged it? Could Agent Cardona check that for me?"
"I hadn't thought of that, but it is possible and we should check. I'll call him right now."
When Martha arrived back at her apartment she found it crowded with agents, including one who was changing the deadbolt on her door. "We're doing a sweep for listening devices, Mrs. Logan," Cardona explained. "Aaron called and discussed it with me and I agreed it was a good idea."
"Thank you, I'll feel a lot better when that's done. I'm going to unpack. Let me know when you're finished." Martha headed to her bedroom and got to work on her luggage. Noticing an unfamiliar overnight bag in the corner, she peeked into it and smiled as she recognized Aaron's T-shirt from the night before. She returned to her unpacking with a pleasant sense of anticipation; twenty minutes later Jon Cardona appeared at the bedroom door.
"We checked everything, Mrs. Logan, including your phones. We didn't find anything. The apartment's clean. I talked to the building supervisor and he says he did let your cleaning service in here a few days ago. He said he knew they were from the company you regularly use. That's why he let them in."
Martha frowned. "I do use a cleaning service, but I didn't ask them to come while I was gone."
"Then I'll call them and find out what happened. I'll get back to you tomorrow." Cardona and the other agents left shortly afterward. Having finished her chores, Martha began to consider the implications of the note. Was Charles threatening to talk? If so, why had he changed his mind when he'd previously refused to say anything? Did he know about the terrorist attack, or that she had been in Moscow when it happened? If he did, might he suspect that she had been the real target? Martha became lost in speculation. When her phone rang, she realized with a start that over an hour had gone by. It was Angie:
"Everything okay, Martha? Do you want me to come in tomorrow?"
"Do come tomorrow, Angie. Aaron seems to be doing well, but I've had quite a day." Martha explained her finding of the note the night before and the Service's subsequent investigation. "They haven't found anything yet."
"It's happened again? That's unbelievable!"
"I know. By the way, you didn't ask the cleaning service to come while we were in Russia, did you?"
"No, because you were only supposed to be gone for five days."
"That's what I thought, but the building supervisor says they came a few days ago. That may have been when the note was left. Agent Cardona is looking into that."
"Martha, do you think you'll be okay tonight? I mean, I know the Service is guarding you, but are you nervous about being alone in the apartment?"
"I'm fine, Angie," Martha answered hastily. "Jon Cardona checked the entire place this afternoon. And," she hesitated, "Aaron's coming over later."
As always, Angie refrained from further questions: "Okay, then. See you at ten?"
"Ten is fine. We'll have a lot of financial stuff to do," Martha added, remembering Susan's news with an unpleasant jolt.
Aaron appeared at six o'clock with a pizza in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. "This place is near me and it's pretty good. I think you'll like it." He put the pizza in the oven to reheat.
"You eat there a lot, do you?" Martha started to tear lettuce for a salad.
"Quite a bit. I think there's a law that requires divorced men to eat pizza."
"I talked to my attorney today. She confirmed the divorce is final. She also told me not to expect anything much in the way of a settlement; the lawsuits have started and Charles is probably going to lose everything."
Aaron considered this for a moment. "That bother you?"
"No, not really. I have a job, I can earn enough money to live on. I can pay my rent and pay Angie. But I have to admit it would be nice to have more of a financial cushion." She shrugged. "But as I said to Susan, after everything that's happened in the last few months, money doesn't seem that important right now." She put her arms around Aaron, who smiled and answered, "Good."
Over dinner Martha repeated the information she'd gotten from Mike Novick at lunch. Aaron listened carefully, asking occasional questions. When she reached her decision to go back to talk with Charles, he frowned. "Do you have to do it? Couldn't the President send somebody else?"
"I know he'll talk to me. I doubt he'd talk to anybody else. Besides, if whoever sent me that note hears that I've been to see Charles, they won't get suspicious; they'll think I'm doing what I was told."
"Well, that's true. But I don't like it, Martha. I don't want you putting yourself in harm's way."
"After Russia, I don't think I have a choice. I can't think of any other way to find out what we need to know, and once we get that information I'll be safer."
With dinner finished and everything put away, they moved to the couch in the living room. "What did you do today?" she inquired.
"Errands and paperwork. Nothing very exciting. I still get tired pretty easily, so I took a nap this afternoon. I might go into the office tomorrow, just to see if there's anything urgent."
"Aaron, you're on sick leave!"
"It's either that or I sit around here all day tomorrow and drive you crazy."
She kissed him. "You won't drive me crazy, I promise. But Angie's coming at ten and we'll have a lot of work to do. You could watch TV if you want," she offered.
Aaron grimaced. "I don't watch much except the news and football. I'll see how I feel in the morning, but I would like to talk to Jon and see if he's found anything out." He took her hand. "Come over here."
Cautiously, she sat on his lap. "Am I hurting you?" she asked, putting her arms around him.
He pulled her closer. "No, Martha." He began to cover her face with kisses; she closed her eyes and teasingly brushed his mouth with parted lips. Aaron responded by moving lower and trailing slow kisses across her neck and chest. With a gasp of pleasure, she cupped her hand behind his head, encouraging him to continue. He took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply. When they finally broke the kiss, he held her close for a moment. "I love you, Martha. I want to show you how much…" he suddenly realized that she was crying. "Is something wrong?"
She shook her head. "I'm so happy right now. When I think that I almost lost you," her voice was thick with emotion, "it scares me. I don't ever want you to get hurt again."
He stroked her hair. "I've got a desk job now, remember? I don't expect anything more dangerous than a paper cut." He looked at her, concerned. "I promise I'm not going to take any chances. Don't worry."
Martha smiled in response, wiped her tears away and made an effort to pull herself together. "I think maybe we should get off this couch and move to the bedroom."
"I think maybe you're right."
As they moved down the hall, she took his hand in hers. "I found your overnight bag this afternoon."
"Well, you did tell me to leave my toothbrush."
