Colby Velocity

A moment’s hesitation passed before she admitted, “I’m very happy.” Old habits died hard. Even with a good friend like Yoni, the political arena had made her wary of the slightest personal confession. “The Colby Agency is great. It’s the best move I could have made.”

He surveyed the deserted street. “I’m very pleased to hear this.” His tone gave away his distraction more so than his not so discreet surveillance of their surroundings.

“Would you like to have coffee while we talk?” He’d insisted on meeting someplace where they wouldn’t be seen. Another learned trait of the political life. Still, surely he didn’t expect to talk right here on the street, deserted or not. He’d come all this way, the least she could do was buy him a cup of coffee.

He shook his head. “I can’t risk being seen.”

With you. That he didn’t verbalize that part disturbed her on some level. She and Senator Castille had parted on less than favorable terms. That was no secret. The rumors that had at first buzzed in the media were quickly squashed by Castille’s people. It was completely understandable that Yoni would not want to be spied collaborating with the enemy.

Even three years later she remained the enemy.

“All right.” She gestured to her car. “Why don’t we sit in my car?”

He glanced nervously at the vehicle parked in front of his rental. “Well … we can do that.”

That his uneasiness continued to mount triggered the first, distant alarm. Kendra led the way, hitting the remote and unlocking the doors as they reached the vehicle. She settled behind the steering wheel and waited until he’d slid into the passenger seat next to her before locking the doors once more.

“You bought a new car.” He looked around the interior, surprise in his expression. “It’s very nice.” He managed a lackluster smile. “It suits you.”

“It was time.” The interior lights dimmed automatically, leaving them in darkness.

It was his turn to speak. This was his rendezvous after all. Yet the silence dragged on several seconds adding to Kendra’s uneasiness. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?” No point beating around the bush. He’d asked for this meeting, had taken a flight, rented a car and met her in an out-of-the-way location. A scene right out of an espionage movie.

Yoni released a big breath. “You know how Castille is. If he smells trouble …”

Trouble. There it was. She’d known it was coming. “I thought you and Castille were still tight.” The truth was, when Castille had targeted her, Yoni hadn’t gone out of his way to back her up. She’d understood at the time, still did actually. Once Castille had decided she was out, no one or nothing was going to change his mind. Yoni sticking his neck out and damaging his own position with the arrogant senator wouldn’t have helped Kendra.

Political life was ruthless.

A frown furrowed across her brow as all those frustrating memories tumbled into vivid recollection. How the heck had she allowed herself to be dragged back into this vicious cycle?

“What sort of trouble?” And what did it have to do with her? Kendra tamped down the frustration. She reminded herself that she’d heard something in his voice that concerned her when he’d called. She couldn’t just ignore him if he really needed help.

“I’m certain you’ve heard about the Transparency Bill.”

She’d heard. Anyone who read the newspaper or watched the news likely knew of it. The bill was a very progressive action that had raised lots of eyebrows, particularly on Capitol Hill. Ultimately if the bill was passed, the way lobbyists and special interests groups worked would be forever changed. For the better. Though those lobbyists and special interest groups didn’t see it that way.

“Castille supports it,” she acknowledged. That she knew based on the headlines. “He’s taken a lot of heat from the groups he once allowed to bolster his nest egg.” Oh, yes. Castille was one rich old man. He’d reveled in the fringe benefits of those who lobbied for his support. Now that he was nearing retirement he’d opted to man-up and do what no other senator before him had had the courage to do. Limit the behind-the-scenes influence and reach of all those very groups who fueled the power.

“He has persuaded a number to follow suit,” Yoni mentioned, not that it was necessary. Kendra knew very well how much influence Castille wielded.

She turned to her old friend, searched his face. Her eyes had grown accustomed to the low light. “I can see where you might not be a supporter of the proposed legislation.”

He shook his head. “I helped design the bill.”

“Are you serious?” It was difficult to imagine Yoni, a lobbyist, proposing anything that would limit his ability to do his job. Though his efforts were always forthright and just, there were necessary strategies that those outside the political playing field might not fully understand if those efforts were exposed. Serving the greater good came with a cost—usually associated with providing benefits for certain private groups. It was simply the way the world worked.

Yoni dropped his head back against the seat and released a weary breath. “The whole process has gotten out of control. Someone has to draw a line somewhere. I admire Castille for having the courage to do so.”

No question about the need for stronger boundaries. She’d thought as much three years ago. That was just one of the subjects about which she and Castille had butted heads.

“I can see where that move would make you more than a few enemies.” Was that why he’d come to her? Didn’t make a whole lot of sense considering she was many degrees removed, but he hadn’t actually given her any real specifics yet.

“Frustration, anger, resentment—all those things I anticipated,” he explained, “but not the hideous threat of blackmail.”

“Blackmail?” Her confusion cleared. “Someone is attempting to blackmail you?”

He nodded. “I have until ten Friday morning to ensure the senator ushers through a couple of amendment attachments or, according to the note I received, I’ll face the consequences.”

Tension tightened her muscles. “Do you have the note with you?”

He reached inside his summer-weight jacket and pulled out an envelope.

Kendra tapped a button to illuminate a console light. She accepted the envelope and inspected the exterior. His name was carefully printed on the front and nothing more. “Where was it delivered?”

“To my office. It was pushed beneath the door before we opened. I found it this morning.”

Which meant anyone could have delivered it. Yoni’s office was in downtown D.C. on a public block with little or no security measures. She opened the envelope and withdrew the single page typed note.

You know what you need to do. Friday, 10:00 a.m. is the deadline. Meet the demand or face the consequences.

“Have you been to the police?” The answer would be no, otherwise they wouldn’t be sitting here going through the cloak-and-dagger motions.

“I can’t go to the police.”

“Why not?” That made no sense. “This threat could be more than an opportunistic scare tactic. You need to take it seriously.” He’d been in this business long enough to know this already. Power and money were strong motivators; some would do anything to get their hands on one or both.

“There’s another note.”

That he didn’t make eye contact was more telling than he realized. She’d understood there surely was one or more other notes since this one did not state the precise demands or consequences. “Did you bring that note, as well?” Was he really going to make her ask for every iota of information?

He retrieved another plain white envelope from his interior jacket pocket and handed it to her. When her fingers tightened on the envelope, he hesitated before letting go. “I don’t want this ugliness to color your opinion of me.” The worry in his eyes backed up the voiced concern.

“You know me better than that.” She pulled the envelope free of his hold.

Yoni’s name on the front. Inside, the letter was typed just like the other one, except this one was actually a copy of a press statement dated for Friday. The statement explained how a highly respected D.C. lobbyist had more than his share of skeletons in his closet. Kendra felt her jaw drop as she read the accusations that ran the gamut from illicit sexual behavior to fraternizing with known terrorists.

She carefully folded the letter, tucked it into the envelope once more and passed it back to him. “First, I need to know one thing.”

“Anything.”

“How many of those accusations are true even in the remotest sense?”

“You can’t be serious.”

The barely restrained inflection of outrage in his tone was without doubt authentic. She knew him well enough to know it when she heard it. Despite how strongly she felt about him as a person, she also fully understood that no one ever knew anyone completely. “Not a single word of it?” she pressed.

He moved his head side to side solemnly but firmly. “Not one word.”