Tempest - Kris Michaels Page 0,72

bar and pushed the pots back. A small wire dropped from one of the plants, black where the plant was a vibrant green. She turned her back on the plants and ran a cup of water from the bar sink. Pretending a nonchalance she wasn't sure she could sustain, she poured a small amount into every plant and examined the leaves. Whatever had been hidden in the plant was connected to the stalk. She couldn't get a good look at it, but it didn't matter. She was being monitored. Better to know. Right?

Her toe throbbed, but the wedge heel she was wearing was bearable. She chose a pantsuit, well aware Regina didn't like the idea of ladies in slacks, but it was the best way to cover the shoes she wouldn't approve of either. She'd found two more devices in her rooms. God only knew what they were, but they were there, and she wasn't paranoid. She was being monitored. Those things hadn’t been in her room prior to her leaving on the yacht. She would have noticed them.

Her campaign manager looked up as she entered the office area. Not even a smile in her direction. Yes, the woman knew exactly who she worked for––Regina.

The door closed moments after she arrived, and the meetings began. Her schedule was drawn up, events were finalized, and a platform was agreed upon. No one consulted her. For the last two years of her pro bono work, she’d won judgments against the city for negligence and corruption, so she knew how Regina would attack the sitting mayor. She watched from her perch as the minions bobbed their heads and deferred to Regina's decrees.

Regina dismissed the minions and held a hand up as Pilar stood. "A moment."

She stretched briefly and then took her seat again. Regina's attention focused on her computer until the door shut behind the election staff. "I'm very concerned about your recent indiscretions, Pilar. You must know I am aware of your actions at all times."

She blinked repeatedly. "Ma'am?" Fear gripped her muscles, freezing her to the spot.

Regina turned the monitor, and Pilar leaned forward to view an aerial picture of a ship.

"Are you topless?" Her mother clicked the mouse, zooming in on a picture of a blonde woman wearing a multi-colored swimsuit bottom and no top. Pilar shook her head vehemently. "No! That's not me! I don't even have a tie-dyed swimsuit."

Her mother's eyes narrowed. "Not you?" Regina's eyes swung back to the picture. It was grainy and there was no way anyone could tell who the woman actually was. "Were there other people on the ship?"

"No. Just me and the crew." Still shaking her head in disbelief, she pointed to the picture. "I don't know where you got that picture, but I would never sunbathe topless. You've raised me to understand what a professional in the public eye can and can't do." She crossed her arms across her stomach. "Besides, look at her foot. She doesn't have her foot wrapped." Pilar lifted her foot displaying the padding and white medical tape which still cushioned her swollen black and blue toe.

Regina's mouth puckered slightly as she moved her eyes from Pilar's foot to the screen. "Not. You." She turned her computer monitor and stared at the picture. Without breaking her concentrated stare at her monitor, Regina waved to the door. "You are dismissed."

Pilar sent a final glance at her mother and exited with as much dignity as her limp would allow. She had no idea why her mother would think the woman in the picture was her. She shut the door behind her and tried to breathe. Seriously, an aerial photo? What in the world had happened to her life?

Chapter 22

They were driven to a private airfield about an hour inland. The aircraft's pilot met them with the briefing packet and showed him a crate of supplies that had been delivered and marked for him. Tempest took the offered envelope and once again entered the aircraft first. Travis held the team outside while he dissected the packet’s contents. Several pictures of a middle-aged woman with light brown hair dropped from the envelope. There were no full-frontal pictures of the woman's face. He examined each of the photographs. It was as if she always knew where the cameras were and concealed most of her face on purpose.

He reviewed two pages of financial transactions that tied her to several international terrorist organizations. Highlighted was the same financial tango which linked this woman to