Page 29

Every muscle itches to throw him to the hard linoleum floor as he approaches her bed.

“Did you notice anything strange this morning?” I ask instead of resorting to jealousy-induced violence.

“Besides her almost dying?” he quips, eyes still on the sleeping Randi. “Was she complaining about not feeling well?”

Tank and I both shake our heads.

“So it had to have happened just before you left, then. I overheard the doctor say she had high levels of the poison in her system. If she'd ingested it yesterday, she would've reacted sooner.”

“Is that your official medical opinion?” I toss out with a condescending smirk. “Leave the investigation to us. You focus on taking down that bastard Birmingham.”

“No love lost there, I see,” he says with a chuckle. “And what makes you think I’m after the president?”

“Uh,” I say, trying to come up with something to cover my tracks. Tank relaxes in his chair, pulling out his phone once again and leaving me to handle my own slipup. “We believe he's targeting the VP.”

“Why?” His hands tighten around the railing along the side of her bed.

“It's a rocky relationship. Plus she went against his direct order to not attend the OPEC summit.”

“Why did she do that?”

I huff out a laugh. Stretching my arms high above my head, I groan as the tightness seeps out of my shoulders. “Because that's the VP. And she'd heard the rumbling about the gas prices while on a trip to Austin. She wanted to get to the bottom of it. For some reason, Birmingham didn't want her to go.”

“Interesting.”

“After that, there was an attempt on her life. It was a setup. We walked into a trap.”

Sam's eyes widen a fraction. “I didn't hear anything about that.”

I nod and relax back against the wall, gun still in hand. You know just in case the idiot decides to do something sketchy like touch her.

“We kept it out of the media,” Tank responds, not bothering to look up from his phone as his thumbs fly across the screen.

Sam nods. “Smart. So you think this, today's incident, has to do with a past disagreement.”

“Sure.” The fool knows why today happened. Looks like we can't depend on him to be straightforward during this process. Sneaky-ass attorneys.

A soft moan snaps our attention to the waking Randi. Her eyes slowly flutter open. After a few long blinks, like she's attempting to refocus her vision, she scans the room. Confusion registers on her face, her brows pulled and lips pursed.

“Where am I?”

“The Quantico marine base. Do you remember what happened?” I ask. Guilt eats at my gut as I stare at her pale face.

She nods. “Yeah, I almost died. I think I remember someone saying something about poison?” she asks. Again her gaze searches the room. “Am I okay?”

“The general antidote Champ gave you on the trail gave us enough time to get you here before there was any permanent damage done. I’m sure the doc will be back in shortly to give you a rundown. We'll also need to have you checked out by your personal physician when we get back to DC.”

Her hazel eyes roll to the ceiling. “Can't wait.” Her left arm rises a fraction before halting midair when the IV line snags on the railing. Sighing, she lays her head back. “What happened though? How did it happen, I guess is the right question. Poison? That seems so… antiquated.”

“That's what we're hoping you can help us with.” Tank slides his phone into the pocket of his shorts and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped. “What all have you eaten in the last twenty-four hours?”

Attention on the corner of the blanket, twisting it between her fingers, she shakes her head. “Hell, I don't know. Water, coffee at the house.” Her shoulders rise and fall. “I didn't take any food from a stranger if that's what you're asking.”

Tank huffs. “This is serious, Randi.”

“I know it is, T.” An exhausted sigh pushes past her lips. “It's just that nothing seemed strange.” She pauses. “You say the last twenty-four hours?”

Tank nods, eyes locked on hers.