Capitol Conspiracy by William Bernhardt Page B

saying Jeff would become the next Senate majority leader in the wake of Senator Hammond’s death. Amazing. In many respects, it would be the apex of his career—at least, so far. Much as he denied it, she knew he wanted to make a run for the presidency. This “apex” might well be the stepping-stone he planned to convert into a much bigger move. She knew something was in the offing. Jeff had always been busy, but these days she wasn’t even sure he slept. It wasn’t just the amendment debate, either, although he was doing a lot of wheeling and dealing on that. He was constantly over at Homeland Security, taking closed-door meetings at strange hours. Had been for months. What were they hatching?
    She’d spent the evening being introduced to so many people, she couldn’t count them. She’d given up on trying to remember names after the first fifty or so. Of course, she always behaved properly at these little soirees—but that didn’t mean she had to remember all the guests’ names and the names of their children, and which was the scholar and which was the drug addict, and all the other biographical minutiae. Her husband’s chief of staff, Jason Simic, always took care of her. He was very good at what he did.
    She turned the corner in the parking garage and saw the cobalt blue nose of her XJS poking out. Very chic. She and Jeff had never had children, so she was spared the whole minivan thing. This was much more to her liking. Sporty and elegant. Much like she herself. They went together like—
    Did she hear something? She stopped for a moment to listen. Nothing. And for that matter, if she did hear something, stopping to listen would probably be about the most stupid thing she could possibly do. Better just to keep walking…
    There it was again. Footsteps, and not hers. Of course, that was no cause for concern, even at this time of night. There were other cars in here. She didn’t expect a lot of traffic this late, but it was certainly possible.
    Belinda resumed walking. The footsteps returned. Okay, that was a little creepy. She walked faster. At this point, the smartest thing she could do was get inside her car and get the doors locked. It was ridiculous to be scared, wasn’t it? She was a senator’s wife. She wasn’t that far from the Senate. Even in a city with a skyrocketing crime rate like D.C., it was absurd to think that anything could happen. She was perfectly safe. She was letting the lateness of the hour and the darkness and her imagination get to her. She was as safe as a pearl in an oyster.
    She was still thinking that when she felt the hand clamp down on her mouth.
    “Don’t scream!” a male voice barked into her ear. She tried to resist, but he had both arms wrapped around her, holding her immobile.
    When she gave up trying to struggle, he spun her around. He was tall, thin, younger than she was. Dark, in his eyes and his hair and his…manner.
    He pulled a knife from a sheath and pressed it flat against her neck. She shuddered, involuntarily recoiling from the cold blade. It was a large curved knife with a jagged edge—a bowie knife, she thought.
    “I could skin you alive,” he whispered. “And I will unless you give me everything I want. Without hesitation.”
    She started to speak, but he pressed the knife down harder. She felt the tip prick her neck. “Whisper,” he commanded.
    She complied. “What—what do you want?” As she spoke she tried to look and listen for signs of other people. There were none. As far as she could tell, they were totally alone. “What are you going to do to me?”
    “It’s not what I’m going to do to you, at least not at first. It’s what you’re going to do to me.”
    “Look, my name is Belinda DeMouy. My husband is a senator. Senate Majority leader, in fact.”
    “I know.”
    “Are—are you some kind of terrorist?”
    A thin smile curled on his lips. “Not in the way that you mean.” He removed the knife and took a step back, looking her