An Officer and a Princess by Carla Cassidy Page B

the broken glass and garbage that littered the floor. It looked as if nobody had been in the place for years.
    For the first time Isabel wondered if Pam was leading them into a trap. Was Pam truly a rebel’s grieving lover attempting to undo what had beendone? Or was she a rabid revolutionary intent on ridding the world of all the Stanburys?
    Isabel looked at Adam and he must have seen in her eyes a flicker of her sudden doubt and fear. He reached for her hand while his other hand moved to his waist. She knew he had a gun tucked beneath his belt and hidden by the large T-shirt that was untucked.
    Pam led them through what had once been the sanctuary and was now filled with trash and broken wooden pews. The evening sky was visible through a hole in the ceiling.
    â€œThis way,” Pam said, motioning them to follow her into what had once been the small vestry. No longer did the room hold sacred robes and items. The shelves that lined one of the walls were all empty.
    Adam and Isabel watched in amazement as Pam swung the bookshelves out to reveal a set of concrete stairs leading down.
    â€œA bunker?” Adam asked, his voice holding amazement.
    â€œThat’s right. It’s an old World War II bunker,” Pam said. “We’ve all been meeting here for the past year and a half.”
    As they descended the concrete steps, again a million doubts assailed Isabel’s mind. She was grateful that Adam still held her hand. As Pamreached to open the door that would take them into the bunker, Isabel squeezed Adam’s hand.
    They were about to find out if Pam was a friend, or if she was a very clever insurgent who had fooled them both.
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    Adam had not relaxed since the moment they had arrived. The “group” consisted of about twenty people, mostly men. The instant they had stepped into the concrete bunker, Adam had felt the thick tension of suspicion…a suspicion that had been dispelled when Pam had introduced them as Shane’s cousin and her husband.
    Apparently Pam’s endorsement and the familial connection to Shane Moore had been enough to allay distrust. They were accepted without further question.
    Still, Adam had remained on guard throughout the meeting. The cold metal of the gun in his waist-band had been a small comfort as he realized probably half the men in the room were carrying.
    During the actual meeting, there was no mention of the imprisoned king. What there was, was a lot of long-winded rhetoric and political pipe dreams. First one, then another stood to vent frustrations and demand that it was time for change. Adam found the speeches boring, the men zealous and the whole atmosphere disturbing.
    Officially, the business of the meeting was nowover, but most had lingered to mingle and make small talk. He and Isabel had remained, hoping to learn something of significance.
    Adam kept Isabel at his side, an arm thrown territorially around her shoulder. He tried to ignore the heady scent of her, and the way her bare arm felt beneath his fingertips. Instead he tried to stay focused on how difficult this particular ordeal had to be on her.
    Not only was she hoping somebody would say something that would lead them to her father, but she was also listening to a lot of anti-Stanbury sentiment.
    He scanned the room, trying to discern the pecking order within the group. So far it had been difficult to figure out who was the boss…who exactly was in control.
    Several of the males were loud and verbose on the subject of the country needing change, but Adam suspected they were merely minions with mouths and no control. Adam had a feeling the real leader of this band was probably one of the men who had sat through the official meeting saying nothing.
    He dropped his arm to his side as Isabel stepped a few feet away to speak with Pam. He let her go reluctantly, but knew to do anything else might be suspect.
    The king bee is in the honeycomb. The wordsPam had heard Shane tell somebody