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do it there...unless you're headed back to command central?"
"No," Cam said. "Id like you and Stark to see this. Your sister's apartment sounds fine."
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Chapter Twenty-nine
The four of them had barely settled into the Suburban with Stark behind the wheel, when Cam's cell
phone rang.
"Roberts."
She listened for a moment, then handed the phone to Savard. "It's Mac. Can you give him directions to
your sisters? Hes got some information for us and I want him to be there when we take a look at our
latest present."
Nodding, Savard quickly gave Mac the information.
Fifteen minutes later, they were settling into the small but comfortable living room of an apartment in
Chelsea. The furnishings were worn but had once been expensive, and the space beneath the windows
and most other available niches were filled with plants of all description, adding a sense of warm
welcome that was distinctly different than the impersonal apartments and hotel rooms most of them were
used to spending their time in.
Cam noted with satisfaction a work area in a small alcove adjoining the living room that contained a
desk, high end video equipment, and a state of the art computer system.
"You think we can use that to look at the tapes Mac has?" she asked, indicating the electronic array with
a tilt of her head.
"Sure," Savard said, "as long as it'syour paycheck guaranteeing against any damage."
Cam smiled. "I'll put it in writing."
Rene walked through to a tiny kitchen and called over her shoulder, "What does everyone want to
drink?"
As they were chorusing their answers, the buzzer rang and Stark crossed to the door and pushed the
intercom. "Hello?"
"Phillips, here."
"Three C," Stark reminded him as she held down the button, releasing the security lock on the front
door.
A moment later, she opened the door for Mac and, after greetings all around, they found seats on the
sofa facing the small coffee table and a grouping of nearby chairs.
"I guess I'll go first," Cam said grimly from where she sat on the sofa next to Blair.
Savard had cleared a space in the center of the coffee table and as everyone leaned nearer, she reached
into the manila envelope. There were two glossy sheets which Cam separated and placed on the table for
all to see. Everyone shifted so they could look at the images from the proper perspective.
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The first required little in the way of comment. Both had again been taken from a distance, but the first,
shot in broad daylight, was of good quality and both her face and Blair's were clearly recognizable. So
was the fact that their hands were linked as they leaned into one another in what could only be
interpreted as an intimate moment.
"How the hell--" Stark exploded.
"That's the deck at the rear of my mother's house," Cam said, for Savard's elucidation. "The rest of you
recognize the location, I presume. It was taken at approximately 0800 hours the last day of Ms. Powell's
stay in San Francisco."
"I wonder where they were?" Blair murmured, a cold chill making her shiver. It wasn't so much that
someone had been watching; it wasn't even that she and Cam had been captured in a private moment--a
moment that she remembered very well.
"I'll be sorry to leave here," Blair said quietly.
Cam moved her left hand along the rail until it covered Blair's right. Their shoulders were nearly touching,
but only someone on the deck with them could have seen the movement. Automatically, their fingers
entwined, thumbs brushing over the tops of each other's hand.
"Yes, so will I. I've been here before, but it takes being here with you to make me realize how beautiful it
is. Being with you makes the entire world look different."
For a moment, Blair was speechless. It was one of those times when Cam took her completely by
surprise, and it was just the way she had always imagined that being in love would feel. She had just
never imagined she would ever feel it herself. "We don't have to leave that feeling here, do we?"
Cam met her gaze again, marveling at the myriad shades of blue that moved in the depths of her lover's
eyes. "No. We don't. Let's make sure we don't."
It was a moment that she would never want to forget. What bothered her was that someone else has
been silent witness to something that was beautiful and now they were trying to turn into something ugly.
"Anywhere," Cam side flatly. "A nearby rooftop, an apartment on an adjoining street, up a goddamned
tree--anywhere with the sightline. If I'd known then what we know now, I would have paid more
attention to that avenue of access to you. I didn't anticipate a photographer stalking us." Unconsciously,
she rubbed her temple, annoyed at the pain which was surging again.
Blair regarded her with concern.When this is over, Cam is taking a vacation.
"What about the other one?" Savard asked quietly. "Do you know her?"
Savard's eyes were on Blair, who was staring at the photo. It was grainy, and of poorer quality than the
one taken in San Francisco, but the faces of the two women who stood in the circle of light cast by a
street lamp in front of Cam's apartment building in Washington, D.C. were quite clear.
"No, not precisely," Blair said evenly.
No one spoke, nor asked for further explanation. Despite the unusual circumstances, their training ruled.
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Federal agents did not question the private life of the first daughter.
"I think Ms. Powell and I need to speak alone for a few minutes," Cam said into the silence.
As everyone began to rise, Blair said, "No, stay." Glancing at Cam, she smiled wryly. "They're all in it
now, and I have nothing to hide."
Cam sighed and studied the faces of the three agents sitting shoulder to shoulder across from her.
"I don't know where all this is going. Maybe nowhere." She lifted the photos and let them fall back to the
table. "Maybe straight to the AP hotline and the front page of every newspaper in the country."
She had everyone's attention.
"Iknow this woman," Cam said, pointing to Claire in the photograph. "She's an escort with a highly
exclusive service in D.C. She and Ms. Powell have no relationship whatsoever."
"That might be difficult to disprove after this, Stark pointed out in as non-accusatory a tone as she could
manage.
Blair laughed shortly. "I'm certain that's precisely what this is meant to imply."
"Well," Cam said bitterly. "It seems that someone is tightening the noose. First we have a leak to the
press about Blair's secret relationship. Then, obviously, we have documentation of the two of us together
in a position that would be hard to explain away." She glanced quickly at Blair. "Even if we wanted to.
And now," she finished, pointing to the photo of Blair and Claire, "we have the connection between
myself, Ms. Powell, and an escort service. All highly inflammatory business in DC."
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