custom-made. The skirt is breakaway, the bodice is fitted to allow me to carry a recorder and a gun, and there?s a pocket concealed at the waist for extra ammo. Even with all those alterations, it?s the most confining garment I own, and the situations that call for me to wear it almost invariably require hose and heels. At least modern pantyhose are made with a polymer weave that?s virtually puncture proof.
I?d wear the heels. I?d wear the hose. I?d even wear a layer of tinted lip gloss, since that would make it look like I?d applied makeup for the occasion. There was no way I was going to put my contacts in for what was, essentially, a snatch-and-grab to get me to the senator and my team, convince them I had news, and get them back to the compound. Still swearing, I yanked the shawl that went with the dress out of the side pocket of my garment bag, clipped my ID badge to the right side of my chest, and went storming back out of the trailer, heading for the motor pool.
Steve was on duty, standing at a relaxed sort of attention as he monitored the radio channels for security or vehicular needs. He straightened when he saw me coming, chin bobbing downward as he took in the way that I was dressed. It was impossible to see his eyes behind his sunglasses, but he took no pains to disguise the motion of his head, which rose again as he studied the tailoring of my dress, the shawl around my shoulders, and finally, with a quirk of one eyebrow, my sunglasses.
?Going somewhere?? he asked.
?I was planning on doing a little gate-crashing,? I said. ?Give a girl a ride??
?Didn?t you send your brother in your place??
?Something came up. It?s important that I get over there.?
Steve studied me for a moment, his expression implacable. I looked back at him, keeping my own expression just as composed. We both had a lot of practice, but I was the one who had more to lose if I slipped up. It was Steve who gave in, nodding marginally before he said, ?This got something to do with Eakly, Georgia??
His partner died there. We knew there was a conspiracy. How likely was it that we?d still be alive if our security detail was a part of it? There might be listening devices. There was nothing I could do about that, and we were in the end game. It was time to go all-in. ?This has everything to do with Eakly, and with the ranch, and with why Chuck and Buffy died. Please. I need you to get me to that dinner.?
Steve remained still for a moment more, mulling over what I?d said. He was a big man, and people often assume big men must be slow. I never assumed that about Steve, and I didn?t assume it now. He was getting his first real look at a situation my team and I had been living with for months, and it took some getting used to. When he did start to move, he moved quickly and with no hesitation. ?Mike, Heidi, you cover this gate. Anybody radios for me, you say I?m in the can and I?ll radio back when I?m done. Tell them I had franks and beans for dinner, if you think it?ll keep them from asking more.?
Heidi tittered, a high, nervous sound entirely out of keeping with her professional exterior. Mike frowned, expression betraying a slow confusion. ?Yeah, we can do that,? he said. ?But why ??
?We hired you after the ranch, so I?m not going to smack you for asking that question. There?s reasons.? Steve glanced at me. ?I?m guessing that if it was safe to give those reasons in a place as open as this one, they?d have already been given.?
I nodded. I wouldn?t have said as much as I had if he hadn?t invoked the specter of Eakly first, but I wasn?t going to lie to the man when I was asking for his help. Even if I thought I could pull it off, which I didn?t, it would have been wrong.
?Just do it, Mike,? said Heidi, aiming an elbow at the unfortunate Mike?s side. He bore the blow stoically, only allowing a slight grunt to escape. Heidi withdrew her elbow. ?We got it, Steve. Watch the gate, monitor the radio, don?t tell anybody you?re gone.?
?Good. Miss Mason? This way.? Steve turned, his legs eating ground with frightening efficiency