Roman glanced down at his phone. Still no response from Gus. He’d texted her a couple of times to say hi and ask her how the day was going. And…maybe to keep track of her a little. He didn’t like the fact that she was in London and he was hours away at the sanatorium. If she got into trouble, he couldn’t reach her quickly.

Of course, Connor was there, keeping an eye on Kemp. Still, Roman wanted to call her and hear her voice, but he was supposed to be in a series of meetings. He’d thought of joining them via phone while he’d been driving up, but the line had to be absolutely secure. And he didn’t need anyone else asking where he was going or why, especially if Gus overheard.

They had reunited less than twenty-four hours ago, and he was already lying to her.

“You the man who’s come about some old records?” The receptionist was dressed in soft scrubs, her dark hair pulled into a tight bun. Her name tag merely read Yolanda, with none of the designations that explained an employee’s function around a place like this.

He slipped his phone back in his pocket. Gus was probably consumed with her work. Putting together a press conference that included the prime minister of Great Britain and the president of the United States was no small feat. “Yes, I made an appointment to talk to the director of the hospital.”

“He’s in a meeting right now, but he should be available soon,” she replied. “That one didn’t have an appointment at all, but she’s damn fine at talking her way in, if you know what I mean. Don’t hurt none that she’s a looker. Dr. Billings took one look at that and he no longer cared about his by-appointment-only policy. Sorry.”

So he was getting sidelined because the doctor was horny.

“If it doesn’t take too long, fine. I’m a busy man,” Roman said, then remembered that his usual “I’m the White House chief of staff and you will do my bidding” routine wouldn’t work here. Besides, he needed to keep this trip on the down low or he’d run the risk of having reporters on his ass. He had to operate under the radar until he got his hands on whatever information he could and returned to London. “But I can wait a few minutes.”

He also needed to be back with Augustine.

The nurse nodded his way. “I’ll go and interrupt him shortly. I don’t mind doing that none at all. He’s a bit high on his own self, if you know what I mean.”

“I work with a lot of people like that, so yes,” he replied. “I probably am a person like that. Or at least my girlfriend would likely say so.”

Wow. He’d called Gus his girlfriend. And he’d liked it.

It had occurred to Roman this morning as he and Gus were getting dressed that they didn’t have to stop seeing each other when the danger passed. Having a quiet breakfast with her, passing the newspaper back and forth, and talking about the headlines had been a nice way to start the day.

Yolanda laughed. “I say that about my husband, too, but I’m telling you he ain’t got nothing on these doctors. You treat one or two celebs and suddenly they think they’re god’s gift to clean living.”

It occurred to him that he could put his wait to good use. Yolanda looked to be in her late thirties, perhaps early forties, and she had the eager look of a gossip. The waiting room was empty, and when he’d walked up she’d been filing her nails. No wonder she was happy for the chat.

“How long has Dr. Billings been the director here?” he asked.

“A couple of years now, but he’s worked here for ages. He’s the worst of ’em. Calls hisself the doctor to the stars and all.”

“Do you get to meet them? The stars, that is?”

She shrugged. “Not really, but I don’t mind. They’re usually all drugged up when they first arrive. And when they leave, they tend to go quietly. No one wants to admit they’ve been here. Except the druggies. They want to pat themselves on the back about how they got clean, but the others, the ones who have come because they’re supposedly not right in the head… I wonder.”

“About?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t say nothing, but sometimes I think this place is just an expensive babysitting service. It certainly was a few years ago. Before they opened the addiction wing, this was where rich men sent their inconvenient women. Now, I’m not saying anything loads of others haven’t. It was a well-known fact all through the country in polite circles that if a man was tired of his wife, he could send her to Homewood.”

“So you don’t think the patients had real mental health issues?”

“Mental health issues can be defined in lots of ways. That’s the trouble, isn’t it? No definitive test for lunacy like there is for cancer. What one person calls a quirk another calls a mental disorder. If you look back a hundred years or so, you’ll see plenty of men used that excuse to shed troublesome wives. Back then they didn’t divorce, you know. So they said lots of things made to make their woman a candidate for the asylum. Novel reading. Yeah, that was one. How ridiculous is that?”

“In the Victorian era, and even the early twentieth century, any woman with a high spirit and half an opinion could be considered crazy,” he agreed. Gus would likely have been tossed into an asylum back then if she’d married the wrong man. She definitely would have been on the front lines of the suffrage movement. “But surely we’ve improved as a society. That sort of groundless institutionalization hasn’t happened much in the last fifty years, right?”

She laughed, the sound reverberating through the quiet lobby. “It still goes on all the time. It’s just done a lot quieter than before. And sometimes the ones that come in for drugs and alcohol stay for other things. Standard treatment is twenty-eight days, but if the husbands don’t want them out, they don’t leave. Looks real good in a custody battle to say your wife is loony, if you know what I mean.”

He did, though when Zack’s mother had been committed, custody hadn’t been an issue. He’d already been well over eighteen. “See any politicians in here?”

“Sure, but they’re mostly from other countries. Don’t want their dirty laundry aired near home,” she said breezily. She stopped and her eyes narrowed. “You were asking about a pol’s wife, right? You’re a lawyer for the family or something like that.”

Yolanda probably didn’t follow U.S. politics. And it worked to Roman’s advantage that he didn’t grant many interviews these days. When he did, he gave them almost exclusively to news outlets in the States. Liz handled all the overseas requests. “Yes, I’m a lawyer for a powerful man whose mother spent time here. My client wants to know more about this period in his mother’s life, but his elderly father now has dementia. So I’m looking into this matter on his behalf so he can write his memoirs someday.”

“Of course. Memoirs. Sounds fancy and all,” she said with a grin. “Well, the good doc worked here during the time you mentioned when we spoke earlier. I wasn’t, of course. I’m far too young, still a schoolgirl back then, you know.”

She hadn’t been, but he liked her charm. “Naturally.”

Her phone rang and she answered, giving him a smile. “Sorry, duty calls. The director should be with you in a moment.”

 

* * * *

 

Roman paced the too-quiet waiting room. The hospital was privately owned, and he didn’t doubt its patients were all überwealthy. The lobby and waiting room were decorated in calm colors, everything elegant and plush. Actual paintings graced the walls, all artfully done, and nothing so common as prints. These were originals. Yet for all the trappings of wealth and serenity, an air of desperation clung.

Zack’s father had sat in this exact room as he’d committed Constance. How hard had it been to leave his wife here? Or had it? Frank Hayes had always been an ambitious man who strove to present the best optics to the public. Their marriage had been a prearranged partnership, much like Zack and Joy’s. Despite Frank’s lofty aspirations, he never climbed higher than an ambassadorship. Was that why they’d splintered and she’d become a babbling alcoholic? Had the unfulfilled promise of success rotted their marriage from within?

He bet Frank and Constance had rarely fought. Likely any arguments between the two had been cool and civil—until the day Frank had his wife committed. If Joy had fallen apart, Roman knew Zack would have handled the situation with more compassion and humanity than his dad. Roman tried to imagine himself institutionalizing Gus the way Frank had Constance and he cringed. Of course, she would only laugh in his face before she beat him with her stiletto and told him to go to hell.

That image spread a smile across Roman’s face. He loved that his girl didn’t put up with shit.

Feeling antsy, he sat to wait. Quiet smothered this place. Of course Homewood had patients, but it felt empty, as if bodies lived here but their souls had checked out long ago.

The silence gnawed at Roman. And he knew Joy would have appreciated the complete sense of calm.

If he’d ever truly started his own relationship with her, how would that have worked? Would she have ever adjusted to his organized chaos…or would her placid façade finally have grated on him? For years, she’d seemed like his ideal, but now he wondered. No woman turned him on like Gus, and no one would ever accuse that woman of being quiet or inspiring peace.

The only time he’d ever seen a hint of assertiveness from Joy was on the final leg of the Midwest campaign bus tour. Roman had wanted to shore up a couple of states that might slip away, but she’d insisted on pushing through a handful of others they were almost sure to lose. She’d been so upset, so adamant. Roman had given in.

And gotten her killed.

Maybe the shooter would have turned up in Virginia. Or Colorado. Maybe her political death had merely been inevitable, but Roman felt as if he’d done something terrible.

And he hated that Gus had to hear about his flirtation with her friend right after they’d made love for the first time in a dozen years.

I’m not his type. Never have been. Never will be.

He’d overheard her say that to Liz the night before. How could she feel that way? He couldn’t seem to stay away from her, keep his hands off her…

Maybe because you told her that over and over in the past. Yes, he’d likely spewed that litany so many times the words were burned into her brain. Roman frowned. What the hell did he know about his own damn type? He realized now that he’d given into Joy’s pleading about the final stretch in the campaign not because he’d wanted to make her happy, but because he’d liked that assertive side of her and wanted to encourage it more.

His cell phone trilled, saving him from troubling thoughts. He glanced down at the screen and cursed softly. Not Gus. Darcy Hildebrandt. He thought about letting the call go to voicemail but if he didn’t answer, she might go looking for him. When she didn’t find him, she might run into Gus and ask why he wasn’t at Downing Street. Then he would be in hot water—the kind already boiling because Gus wouldn’t bother to slow roll him.

Roman reluctantly answered his phone. “Hello?”

A feminine sigh sounded in his ear. “Oh, there you are. I was a bit worried you were avoiding me today.”

He planned on avoiding her for the rest of their official visit. Maybe now that he and Gus were together, he could sic his girl on Darcy. It would be fun to watch Gus dish out an ass kicking. Maybe they’d even let him make popcorn and have a ringside seat.

“I’ve just been very busy. The president can be demanding.” That wasn’t entirely untrue.

“I haven’t seen you here in any of the meetings. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“I must have missed you.” The key to lying was to not commit to too many details. “I’ve been running all over the place. I’m currently dealing with background issues, so we’ve had to divide and conquer in order to handle everything. I won’t be around much today. Tomorrow, I should be with the president. I’m sure I’ll see you then.”

“Actually, I was hoping you would join me for lunch today. Or perhaps dinner tonight.”

Oh, god no. “Sorry. I won’t have time. Shame… And my schedule is tight for the rest of the week. You know how intense these meetings can be. It’s almost as if the fate of the free world rests on our shoulders,” Roman tried to joke.

But he didn’t intend to be alone with Darcy again. The next time they were in public, he would use Gus like a shield. He would lay on the PDA, and his British counterpart would get the point.

Outward affection didn’t bother him the way it used to. As a kid, he’d hated when his parents kissed in front of him. It had never been a peck. They’d constantly made out. Friends and family always remarked how in love they were, but they had never seen his parents snarl like cats and dogs, watched them scratch and claw as they did their best to tear each other apart.

He’d decided that affection was a lie. They’d used it to convince everyone else their marriage didn’t have an ugly side. But last night had him rethinking that conclusion. Holding Gus’s hand had felt damn good—honest and necessary. With that gesture, he hadn’t been fooling anyone, least of all himself. His feelings for Gus were real and so damn complex.

But they were making progress. After pulling Gus away from Liz last night, Roman had expected a fight. Instead, she’d taken the news that Connor would be watching Kemp in stride, then curled up beside him in bed and given him comfort. Next to her feminine warmth, he’d slept better than he had in years.

“I think you can sneak away for a bit,” Darcy insisted with a flirty laugh. “I would hate for the week to end and you to go home before experiencing some true British hospitality. After all, it could be a long while before I travel to the States.”

Zack was right. He was going to have to make himself plain. “Darcy, I think you’re under the impression that I’m available for relations that extend beyond the office. The truth is, I’m involved with another woman and I don’t think she would appreciate me spending time with you that isn’t business related.”

Darcy fell silent. “You never mentioned a girlfriend. In fact, you told me before this visit that you had no significant woman in your life.”

“I don’t usually talk about my personal life with work colleagues. And frankly, it’s a complicated relationship. She’s been in my life since I was a kid. We’re very close. We’ve had our ups and downs over the years, but last night we decided to give us a real try. I’m sorry if you feel I’ve misled you.”

“Misled me? Taking me to the theater with the president and a supermodel, and not correcting me when I told the bloody press we’re dating is more than misleading.”

So she wasn’t always sunshine and light. That made things easier. “I never indicated that we’re dating. You assumed. The purpose of our outing was to accompany the president. He likes to have someone to talk to in public. Better photo ops. It’s awkward if I’m tagging along as the third wheel. I never considered our outing as anything more than one colleague helping another.”

“Well, then. Absolutely my fault.” She forced the sunshine back in her voice, as if she hadn’t just growled at him in a harpy tone he’d never heard her use before. “Please forgive me. We do have a few details to cover for the formal state dinner, but if you would prefer to work with someone else, I can arrange for another colleague to take my place.”

Why was he constantly surrounded by touchy women? He sighed and deliberately softened his voice. Other than her unwanted flirtation, she’d been extremely competent, and he didn’t want the tongue wagging that would accompany him asking for another liaison to affect her position. “Not at all. Let’s talk tomorrow. I’ll find you at Downing Street later so we can coordinate details.”

“Excellent. Thank you, Mr. Calder. I look forward to it, and thank you for the pleasant evening.”

Thank god they were back to being polite. “Thank you, Ms. Hildebrandt.” As he started to hang up, it occurred to him that Darcy might have information about the manor house the president and his entourage were using. Connor had spoken to the ambassador, but Darcy had helped with the legwork for this trip, including securing their accommodations since the usual digs were under reconstruction. “Wait. While I have you on the phone, can you tell me anything about a series of secret passages we’ve discovered in the manor?”

“Of course,” she replied readily. “That particular house was built nearly three centuries ago. Those passageways were quite common in homes of the wealthy in that period. The servants utilized those paths to come and go without disrupting the household or its guests. Some were even used to move rebels in and out of houses during the Jacobite rebellions and other social upheavals. But you don’t need to worry. A renovation about a decade ago closed off most of the entrances to those passages. They left one for historical purposes. We often give tours there.”

“Ah, that’s interesting. We stumbled onto the entrance and were quite surprised.”

“Really? No one has gotten lost in the passages, I hope.” Darcy sounded concerned. “We supplied the Secret Service with a complete map of the estate in part to avoid that possibility.”

“Not at all,” he assured. But it was interesting to know the Secret Service was well versed in those passages. They would also know what common areas of the house the security cameras captured and how to evade them. “One of the doors merely opened and it surprised a staffer. I was curious. Thank you for explaining. I’ll let them know it’s nothing to be concerned about.”

“Now if you want to see secret passageways, I could…” She sighed over the line. “Well, I could recommend several lovely tours for you. There are so many interesting things to see while you’re in London.”

“If I get back for a vacation, I will. Thank you. I’ll see you later, and we’ll settle our schedule for the rest of the week.”

She hung up, and Roman glanced at the device’s screen to check the time. He had a few hours yet before he absolutely had to get on the road. But he needed to wrap up his visit quickly if he wanted to visit the site of Constance’s accident. It wasn’t far, and he could also chat with the local police. If he really hurried, he might even be able to talk to some of the inhabitants of this sleepy village. Maybe someone remembered what happened the night she died.

“Mr. Calder?” A tall, thin man wearing a dark suit under his white lab coat emerged from the hallway.

“Dr. Billings?” He rose to shake the man’s hand.

“Yes, I’m sorry for the delay. I had an unexpected guest,” the doctor explained.

Roman had to smile. The doctor was a man in his sixties who didn’t look at all like the sort to eschew his normal schedule for a flirtation. The woman must have been spectacular. “So I heard.”

The doctor tossed a glance at Yolanda, who grinned. “The gossip mill is running perfectly, I see. I don’t get a lot of unscheduled appointments. We’re a business that thrives on privacy. Most of the public doesn’t even know we’re here. I had to know for certain if she was a reporter sniffing about for a story.”

Roman hadn’t even considered that. Usually he was much more paranoid, and if he’d been spotted that would have been a disaster. Gus was making his brain mushy. “So is she with the press? Because I definitely insist on keeping my visit private.”

The doctor waved off his worry. “Not according to her, and she didn’t mention your name. But just in case, I thought it smart to send her out the back so she doesn’t see you entering. I’m sure she’ll have cleared the building in just a moment. Surprisingly, she wanted to discuss the same patient you’ve inquired about. That certainly doesn’t happen often, especially in an old case where the patient is deceased. She didn’t have the proper paperwork from the family, so of course I couldn’t say much.”

Roman’s every sense went on high alert. “Someone else came today to ask you about Constance Hayes?”

The demand in his tone had the doctor’s eyes widening. “Um, yes. Another American, like you. As I said before, I suspected she was a reporter or perhaps a biographer working on a book. I explained to her that I couldn’t disclose any information without a release from the family. And good luck with that.” His voice went low. “As you know, we’re talking about the mother of the president of the United States.”

“Could you describe this woman to me?” Roman had suspicions. Gus had been too bright this morning. Far too happy and more than willing to talk about anything except her investigation. He should have known her mood was far too good to be true. And his Augustine was precisely the type of woman to turn a scholarly man into a blushing teen with a smile. “Was she gorgeous, tall, have a ridiculous amount of pretty hair? Did she look a bit like a Valkyrie wearing designer clothes and a pair of Louboutins?”

The doctor’s expression turned loopy. “So you know her? She’s beautiful. And charming. I felt bad having to tell her that even if I were allowed to show her the files, they went missing ages ago.”

Roman forced a smile on his face and tamped down his scalding fury. “I see. Did she say where she was going?”

“No. She asked for the loo. I let her use my private toilet. The only other one is out here, and I wanted to avoid her spotting you in case she was a reporter. She didn’t say anything about where she’s headed next. If she hasn’t left yet, you might be able to catch her in the car park.”

“I assure you she’s still here. She’s searching your office even as we speak. And you’re quite right—she doesn’t have the proper clearance from the family to obtain Mrs. Hayes’s medical records. If you’ll lead me to your office, I’ll help you save the sanctity of your files because she’s smart. If she hadn’t been born into one of the wealthiest families in the States, she might have made an excellent con artist.” He withdrew his phone and touched the number that dialed Augustine’s cell. “Come to think of it, con-artistry is a hobby for her.”

“What do you mean? She merely asked to use the loo,” the doctor sputtered as he darted back down the hall.

Roman followed. Sure enough, as the phone started to ring in his ear, he heard a faint corresponding ring down the hall. The closer he hustled to the doctor’s office, the louder the noise sounded.

“Roman, I can’t talk right now,” Gus said over the line, her voice hushed.

He bet she couldn’t. Thankfully, the carpet beneath his loafers muffled the sounds of his footsteps. He kept his voice intentionally low. “Why, baby? Are you in an important meeting?”

“Very. I’ll have to call you back.”

“Is Liz with you?”

“Um, yeah, but she’s busy, too. You know how it is on these trips. I have to go. See you tonight.” The line went dead.

Gus was probably panicking now. She had to know the doctor would be back at any moment. She must be hurrying to find anything of value in his filing cabinets.

Roman gnashed his teeth together. How the hell had she escaped the manor without his knowledge? He intended to have someone’s head for this lapse.

The doctor stopped just short of his door with a frown. “I left that open.”

“And she closed it.”

“Oh, dear. Should I ring 999?”

He grasped the doorknob, hoping she hadn’t locked herself in. He wouldn’t put it past her to buy herself a little extra time, then plot to wiggle her gorgeous body out some tiny window to escape. “I’ll handle her. No need for the police.”

Damn Gus. Roman was one hundred percent certain he could feel his hair starting to gray, and it was all her fault. But even though she’d defied him, he felt oddly eager to clap eyes on her. He frowned. It made no sense.

The doorknob turned easily and he barged into the office.

Gus was stepping out of a door to his left and turned, wearing a bright smile. “Thank you so much, Doct… Roman?”

Her smile fled. A startled expression accompanied the whoosh of her breath. Anxiety lit her eyes next, proving to him that she did have a lick of sense. She should be afraid.

“Hello, dear. Is Liz in the bathroom, too? I had no idea you had a meeting so far from London.”

At least she had the decency to blush, her cheeks turning a hot pink. “I was just… Wait.” That sensible fear fled, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going to be glued to Zack’s side all day. In London. Meetings with the prime minister, I believe. Did you forget those? Or get lost?”

He pointed a finger her direction. “You are not turning this back on me.”

“Excuse me, but I’m confused,” the doctor said. “You clearly know each other, but you didn’t come here together?” He glared at Roman. “Was your appointment a ruse so she could search my office?”

“Of course not. I don’t need to resort to such drastic measures. As you know, I have a release from the family.” He reached into his suit pocket, ready to pull out a copy of the paperwork.

“So you were snooping of your own accord, young lady?”

Gus sent him a look that could have frozen an active volcano. “Of course not. He was kidding. He’s quite a practical jokester.” She sidled up to Roman, sliding her arm through his. He felt her claws digging into his forearm through his suit coat. “He has such an odd sense of humor. I have no idea why I date him. Maybe you should think about keeping him for observation.”

The doctor looked between the two of them. “You have a romantic relationship?”

Gus leaned against him. “We do, and the truth is, we must have gotten our schedules mixed up today. I thought he was far too busy to come here, so I tried to save him the trip and surprise him. And because I’d like to spend a day shopping and sightseeing before we fly back across the pond. But as Roman pointed out, I don’t have the proper paperwork. That detail completely slipped my mind.” She touched a hand to her forehead with a trilling laugh. “Zack gave it to this guy here. I’m sorry, I mean the president. We’re both lawyers in his employ and we’ve known him since we were kids, so it’s weird to call him anything other than his name. Or Scooter, of course.” Gus smiled brilliantly before she slanted a glance his way. “Come on, babe. We’ve taken up enough of the doctor’s time.”

Roman thought his head might explode. He was so going to… He wasn’t even sure what he intended to do to her, but in that moment he wished like hell he could toss her over his knee and spank the sass out of her. Still, she was right. They needed to leave before the doctor got any more suspicious.

He forced a smile. “Sorry, Doctor. I didn’t mean to imply that she’s a criminal. Though what she’d like to do with our spare time would be a crime against my credit card.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder with an airy laugh. “One little trip to Harrods.”

The doctor smiled indulgently and murmured something about his wife doing the same. No one could turn around a bad situation like Gus. She could get caught with a gun standing over a dead body and residue all over her hands, and still manage to craft a charming story the police would probably believe.

But Roman refused to be charmed. Not this time. His stern lecture would have to wait, however. Now he had to play the indulgent boyfriend.

“Glad you understand. I actually came here today, rather than tomorrow, so I could surprise her. Pray for my credit card, Doc.” He smiled. “Oh, before we go, what can you tell me about Constance Hayes? You said the files we’re looking for are missing?”

The doctor frowned for a moment, as though trying to figure out if he was being had.

Gus nodded and started back into the doctor’s office, tugging Roman along. “I was asking the doctor about any records he might have on Constance, but he told me they’d gone missing some time ago. He tried to pull them recently, probably for you.”

The doctor settled himself behind his impressive desk. “Yes. I looked for the records when Mr. Calder called to inquire about reviewing them. As I told Ms. Spencer, I wasn’t Homewood’s director at the time of Mrs. Hayes’s stay, but I worked here.”

He was still suspicious and somewhat reserved, but Gus seemed to have kept the situation from going incredibly south. Not that it would save her later.

Roman slid into the chair beside her. When she tried to inch away, he caught her hand and wrapped her arm around his. She’d started this game, so no, he didn’t mind taking advantage of the situation. Since their two investigations had crossed over, that meant he could keep an eye on her while he completed his. “Did you work on her case at all?”

“I did, but I’d prefer not to say more. Privacy laws.” The doctor glanced Gus’s way.

“The patient in question is deceased and her husband has dementia. Zack Hayes has his father’s power of attorney and I represent the whole family. I can show you my paperwork again, if you’d like. Or would you prefer for me to get my client on the phone?”

Gus sighed and leaned toward the doctor. “Don’t mind his growl. That’s how he talks. But we really do need some answers. We’re here for Zack…President Hayes. He can’t come himself, obviously. Privacy is a deep concern—his and yours. If the president comes, we have to bring a large security detail and shut down most of your operations for the day. I assure you, it’s a hassle. And then there’s the press. Once they’re on the scene, I fear they could learn about your celebrity patients, perhaps even catch an unauthorized glimpse of them. It’s in everyone’s best interest not to stir up that kind of attention.”

The doctor shuddered. “I see your point, yes. And you did send the proper paperwork. Can we talk in front of Ms. Spencer?”

“Please do.”

“All right. I was a secondary doctor on Mrs. Hayes’s case. Her primary physician died a few years back, and somehow we’ve lost his records.”

“All of them?” Roman asked.

“No, that’s what’s strange. Only Mrs. Hayes’s records are missing.”

Gus squeezed his hand. Clearly, she didn’t believe for one moment the records had simply been misplaced. Neither did Roman. Though nothing had really changed, Roman sensed this excursion had become far more serious—and potentially dangerous.

“Do you have any idea when the records went missing?” she asked.

“I honestly can’t tell you,” he began, but then he seemed to have an idea. He stood, pushing his chair back. “But…let me check something. I’ll be right back. I might be able to at least give you a time period, if my theory is right.”

He stepped outside, leaving his door open.

Gus immediately turned on him. “I knew you were lying to me. You never meant to take me along. Your promises and your ‘deal’ were just one big manipulation.”

She wanted to do this here? Now? Fine by him. “I lied? That’s pretty hypocritical, baby, since you’re the one who sneaked in here to illegally search a doctor’s office. You know, you’re lucky he didn’t call the police. How would that have looked?”

“He wasn’t going to catch me. You’re the one who made it a close call.”

Roman gritted his teeth. “Why the hell are you here?”

“No, you go first.”

He clenched his jaw even tighter, lips pressing into a grim line. He couldn’t admit here all the things he’d been keeping from her all along. He couldn’t drag her any deeper into this conspiracy and put her in more danger.

She pointed a finger his way. “See, there you go with the stonewalling. You’re not going to say a word, are you?”

But he didn’t have to admit anything. Gus knew he was investigating. She was a smart woman and no matter what he did, she would put two and two together all too soon. “I’m here because Zack thinks something was…odd about his mother’s death. He’d like answers.”

“Okay, I’ll be the one to say it. She was very likely murdered.” Gus sat at the edge of her chair as though she might jump up at any moment. Her eyes were alive with suspicion. “You don’t look surprised at all. I think Constance was murdered, just like my father. I’ve thought a lot about this. My dad must have known something, Roman. I know what all the police reports said, but I think someone covered up his murder, too. I want to know what happened and why.”

Roman’s breath caught. Damn it. He’d always thought she was brilliant, but damn… She was even smarter than he’d given her credit for. He couldn’t not tell her why her father had died. Dax might kill him later, but in that moment he knew he couldn’t lie. “Yes, I’m here because I believe your father knew something about Constance Hayes’s death…and that’s why someone in the Russian mafia paid your father’s aide to first discredit him. They later leaned on Holland’s uncle to rule that the admiral’s death had been suicide.”

Color leeched from Gus’s face. Suddenly, her hand was in his again. The way she squeezed him, seeking comfort, tugged at his heart.

He stood and pulled her into his arms. “This is why I’ve lied, baby. I don’t want you involved. I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt or… I can’t lose anyone else. Not after everything.”

She clung to him. “But I need answers, Roman. This is far more my fight than yours. I won’t let you keep me out of it. Whatever’s going on has cost me dearly. I lost my father and two of my closest friends. I have to know why.”

True, and he felt guilty every time he thought about the enormity of what they were keeping from her.

“I also know you’re angry with me,” she went on. “And I’m angry with you. But I won’t let you send me back to the manor and put me under house arrest.”

He was fairly certain that would be impossible now. Roman sighed and held her closer, letting her scent wash over him.

Funny how it used to merely arouse him. In the past when he’d inhaled her, he’d thought of nothing except getting her into bed. Now being this near Gus calmed him surprisingly.

No, he didn’t want her in danger. But she had come here of her own free will. He could hardly make her unlearn anything she’d discovered on her own. What point was there in keeping these deep, dark secrets from her anymore…and potentially driving a wedge between them?

“No, you can stay, but we’re doing this together. And we’re going to have a long talk first. I’m going to know everything you know.”

“Yes, it was just as I…” The doctor stopped short, cleaning his throat. “Oh, sorry to interrupt.”

Gus started to break away, but Roman merely shifted his body so he could keep his arm around her.

“My apologies, but when my girl is this pretty, I’m afraid it’s hard to keep my hands off her,” Roman quipped. “You were saying?”

He helped Gus sit before joining her.

The doctor stepped behind his desk, finding his chair once more. He adjusted his glasses as he paged through a file. “Here it is. It’s as I suspected. You see when we move the paper forms to our archives, we have to sign them in and out. Mrs. Hayes’s form was signed out to be scanned, but it was never signed back in. The lad who did our scanning services no longer works here. He was a college student interning for us. I can certainly get you his name, but it’s been six years and he’s back in India now, as far as I know. You’ll have to look him up.”

That would be hard. Connor might have some contacts. “So why wasn’t the file in the computer system?”

“I suppose our intern didn’t actually scan it. Or he did and someone mistakenly deleted it. Normally, I would suspect her son of arranging that mishap, but you’re here on his behalf.”

“My boss had nothing to do with it,” Roman assured.

“Wait, the files must have been in your system at one time because when I ran oppo research during the campaign, Constance’s stay here was one of the things we easily uncovered. Despite the fact that she registered under an alias, her records had to be kept under her real name. I dug that up over three years ago, so the file must have been deleted and stolen since then. Can anyone in your employ look through your computer systems to find out if you’ve been hacked or if any purging of files has occurred?”

“A firm that handles our computer systems now should be able to answer your question. Should I advise our legal department of this?” The doctor looked wary again.

Roman leaned in, adding a hint of menace to his tone. “You lost complex and valuable information about the mother of the president of the United States.”

It never hurt to have leverage.

Gus laid a soft hand on the doctor’s desk. “Doctor… Charles, I don’t think that’s necessary. Please excuse Roman. He forgets about manners sometimes. We all want to keep this situation quiet. Is there any way you would allow our computer experts to talk to your company? Perhaps we can find some answers together. We don’t want to read the sensitive records of your other patients, but we might be able to assist with technical issues. If you’ll agree to that, we can all handle this matter discreetly. I’d hate for the public or press to catch wind of this snafu.”

The doctor nodded, obviously having no idea he’d been subtly threatened. “Perhaps that’s the best solution. I’ll let them know you’ll be calling and that they should give you their full support. I hope the president understands the hospital did its utmost to preserve the integrity of those files and that we’re committed to restoring them. We take our patients’ privacy seriously. This has never happened before. I can’t apologize enough.”

“Is there anything you personally remember about Constance’s case?” Gus asked.

Roman sat back. She had this guy eating out of the palm of her hand. And staring at her breasts, but then if he was in the doctor’s position, he would be staring at them, too. Augustine’s breasts were a national treasure. Actually, they might qualify since he was fairly certain the sight of those gorgeous things had bought the country an enormous amount of goodwill with world leaders.

“As I explained to Mr. Calder, I was secondary on her case. I only really checked in on her when her primary physician was on leave. I recall she was normally a model patient. She was quiet. She liked to spend her time alone, reading books and magazines.”

“Exactly what ailments was she diagnosed with? Alcoholism?” Roman couldn’t remember a time when Zack’s mom hadn’t had a glass of wine or a martini in her hand.

“She was treated for a chemical dependency, yes. But her main diagnosis was paranoid personality disorder,” the doctor explained. “Constance always thought someone was trying to kill her. And if I recall, she had trouble with hearing voices in her head, specifically a baby crying. She believed she’d accidentally killed a child, but according to everything I recall, that never happened. She attended intense therapy sessions, and we tried to relieve the guilt she had no reason to feel. But nothing changed her mind. As far as I know, she believed people were coming after her, seeking vengeance for the child, up until her untimely death in that car accident.”

Roman sat back as the information rolled through his brain. He didn’t want to think about the implications. Wouldn’t think about them until he learned what was true and what had merely been a delusion in Constance’s mind. “Do you know if her primary doctor had transcripts of his sessions with her in that file?”

“Of course,” Doctor Billings replied. “We record all our sessions and save them with the rest of the files.”

So if the files had been stolen, rather than misplaced—a terrible likelihood—Zack’s enemies could have documented proof that his mother believed she’d murdered a child.

The conspiracies began to spin in his head. Had Constance Hayes killed her own child? Had Frank Hayes, conscious that Constance couldn’t bear another, replaced that child with another? Maybe his Russian nanny’s?

Was Zack actually Sergei?

“Do you remember anything else?” Gus asked. “Why was she driving the night she died? How did she escape the facility?”

“I don’t know all the details. I wasn’t there that night. Her death was a heavy weight on Dr. Richards for the rest of his days. But Mrs. Hayes didn’t escape. We maintain strict security standards so that our patients aren’t a risk to themselves or others, but there are several ways a patient can be temporarily granted limited freedom. Most of the time it’s because they’ve been declared low-risk and have completed the initial mandatory lock-in period, so an approved person could sign them out for up to six hours. Family visits and fresh air often cheer these people up, you understand.”

“But according to everything the family heard about the accident, Constance was alone in the car, rented in her name. How is that possible?” It didn’t make sense to Roman. How would a woman on lockdown have managed that? There was no evidence that Frank had been in the country. His passport records showed he hadn’t left the US until a full twenty-four hours after Constance’s death. That trip had been only long enough to retrieve his wife’s body for burial.

So who had signed her out that night?

Doctor Billings shook his head and set his glasses aside. “I’m afraid I can’t shed any light on that. Much of those records were sealed away because of the lawsuit. You need to talk to Franklin Hayes. I understand he’s in no state to explain, but if you ask the right questions, you might learn a thing or two. With dementia patients, it’s all about setting a proper stage and finding the lucid moments. But I can’t give you those records. They’re sealed.”

All of this was news to him. “There was a lawsuit?”

“We paid the Hayes family an undisclosed amount of money and they signed a nondisclosure agreement. Your client should have mentioned that.”

“Frank Hayes signed that NDA,” Gus tried. “Zack didn’t.”

“You’ll have to talk to our legal department. I’m not authorized to help you. Now, I have a hospital to run. I’ve given you everything I can.” The doctor stood, his decision obviously made. “I think your best bet is to deal with our technology department and talk to the president’s father.”

Gus stood, too, holding out a hand to the doctor. “If there’s anything else we can think to ask, we’ll call you. Thank you so much. We’ll be sure to tell the president how cooperative you and your staff have been.”

The doctor seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you. And yes, please feel free to call me with further developments. If I can help you, I will.”

Roman took Gus’s hand and headed for the door. The minute they were out of the doctor’s earshot, he turned to her. “I still had questions to ask.”

“He was done,” she said with a shake of her head. “He got spooked when we asked about her death. He wasn’t going to touch that lawsuit. We need to find another way.”

“I never heard a word about that lawsuit. I’m not convinced it’s real. If that’s the case, we can force him to talk,” Roman insisted.

At the time of Constance’s death, he’d already assumed responsibility for most of the family’s legal issues. They would have told him about such a lawsuit, right? Yes, and let him handle it. Even though the suit would have been filed in England, he would have been the one to vet the British solicitor and advise Franklin.

But if it was real…why had he been left utterly out of the loop?

“Not without some legal pressure. The minute we apply that, we run the risk of our investigation becoming public. The press will ask questions.”

She was right, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t keep quietly digging. He might know someone else they could interview.

He stopped at the desk where Yolanda was once again doing her nails. “Hey, can you tell me if any of the nurses still working here were around ten years ago?”

Yolanda looked between him and Gus. “Did the good doctor pause treating the ‘stars’ long enough to play matchmaker?”

Gus grinned. “No, my boyfriend and I had a mix-up in our schedules. I was trying to surprise him by getting some of his errands done. You know men can’t multitask.”

Yolanda waved a hand. “Don’t I ever! There’s a reason there aren’t many male nurses. Men couldn’t handle being a nurse, if you ask me. Trying to remember all those tasks while handling the emergencies. Well, this place would fall apart if it was all run by the docs.”

“Yes, the nurses are important.” Roman didn’t want Yolanda to get off topic. He got the feeling she could talk forever if he let her. “I’ll be honest, the doctor wasn’t as helpful as I’d hoped. He doesn’t recall much about our patient. I thought talking to one of the nurses who was here at the time might be beneficial.”

“We have a small staff and a lot of turnover. I think it’s because they’re tight fisted with the cash, if you know what I mean. We get these bright-eyed young nurses who come here thinking they’ll make a fortune and meet a man, then realize that village life ain’t as charming as those romance novels make it out to be. The doctors are all old and married, and most of our young men leave here for London. So they find out that their real choices are between slow Jimmy and Alfie, who’s a bit too close to his mum, if you ask me. Now Jimmy ain’t slow in the traditional sense, so don’t throw your political correctness my way. He’s just lazy as pie and I’m fairly certain he talks to his sheep.”

Gus snorted, a sound she somehow made adorable. “So you have a lot of turnover?”

“Oh, yeah. If those doe-eyed girls last a year, we count it as a win. They run right back to London, they do. Marjorie House was the director of nursing for the longest time. Now she was a local. Went to university and come right back home. ’Course she came home pregnant, which was a scandal at the time, but she was here for some twenty-five years.”

“Did she retire?” Roman asked.

“Yes, but she died two years ago.” Yolanda’s words killed Roman’s hopes. “Such a shame. Only murder we’ve had in this town in fifty years. Police think some punk was looking for drugs and shot her when she couldn’t give him any money and ran off. We were all scared for a long time after that.”

Naturally his only witness was dead under suspicious circumstances. Roman knew he’d have to hunt down her police report, too. Frustration welled inside him. Every turn seemed to lead to another dead end.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” There was nothing left to say here, and they were losing daylight. No, he didn’t have to hurry back to London now, but his gut told him every minute that ticked by only made this tangle more dangerous. He glanced down at Gus. “You ready to go?”

She nodded, slipping her phone back into her purse. “Yes. Thank you so much.”

Yolanda gave them a little wave and picked up the e-reader near her elbow.

As he led Gus to the parking lot, the stiff set of her shoulders made Roman suspicious. “How did you get here? Do you have a car?”

He intended to return hers to the nearest facility because there was no way he was allowing her to drive all over the countryside, not when Constance had probably been conveniently murdered here. Marjorie House, too. Yolanda was most likely wrong about the cause. The nurse had died for no other reason than she’d tended to Constance Hayes.

“I took the train,” she murmured as the gray afternoon enveloped him. It had rained earlier and the clouds above suggested storms yet to come. “Then I caught a cab here. Apparently the only one in the area, according to the cabbie.”

“Then you can ride with me. I rented a car.” He gently took her elbow, steering her toward the Benz he’d driven up in. “Are you going to tell me how you knew to look here? I told you what you wanted to know.”

“Well, I knew Mrs. Hayes had died in this area. But when I was searching Kemp’s room, I spotted a notepad. He’d pulled off the top sheet, but I found this address left behind as an impression. When I looked it up, it led here.”

“And you didn’t bother to mention that to me?”

“I was going to, but then you told me you’d turned everything I’d already given you over to Connor. Sure, you promised me updates, but I wanted in. This is my fight, too. And I knew if I gave you the address, you’d only cut me out of this excursion.”

He stopped in the middle of the parking lot. “I wasn’t cutting you out. I was protecting you.”

“It’s the same thing. And have you considered that leaving me completely in the dark puts me at risk? I realize now that I could have screwed up everything by talking to the doctor today. I had no idea you were coming here, much less had a meeting scheduled with him. If he had been the suspicious sort, he could have easily had me arrested for trespassing.”

“Yet another reason for you to trust me to handle this. I’m taking care of it.”

“You’re still not listening.” She huffed and shook her head as she approached the car. “You want me to just give it all up and sit back at the house like a good girl and forget how many people I’ve lost. That’s the sort of woman you want, isn’t it, Roman?”

“Don’t make me sound like some kind of caveman. I’m worried. Everyone who has touched this case is dead. Doesn’t that strike you as suspicious?”

“It certainly does now. How are these events connected to Mad’s death? I don’t get it. Had he figured something out? He must have, but I don’t understand what he would have seen or learned that would have led him to uncover a conspiracy like this. Mad didn’t care about politics.”

“Mad didn’t care about much except getting laid and his next party,” Roman muttered.

Gus stopped, fists clenching. “That’s not true. He cared about many things, but politics wasn’t one of them. He wouldn’t have gotten mixed up in Zack’s campaign any further than to write him a check and show up at his victory party. Although he had an alternate plan. He called it a consolation bash and asked me if it would be poor form to offer Zack his choice of hookers if he lost.”

Roman couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of Mad trying to figure out how to buoy his friend’s spirits after losing a presidential election. It probably would have involved a shit ton of liquor and likely made The Hangover look like a kiddie film. “Yeah, I can see that.”

“Naturally he stopped talking about it after Joy’s death. He said that attending a closed casket funeral for the wife of one of his dearest friends took the party right out of him.”

Roman unlocked the car with a beep but didn’t get in. Instead, he opened the passenger door for her. “I’m sorry I said anything negative about Mad. I have complex feelings for him, but I miss him every single day. I wish he was here because things never seemed as grim when he was around.”

She glanced away, but not before he saw the haunted look in her eyes. “Yeah, Maddox Crawford made even the worst things seem a little better.”

God, he hated the jealousy that snaked through him every time she said Mad’s name. Neither one of them deserved it. They’d been adults and single, and Roman had been plain when he’d ended things with Gus. But it still fucking hurt that Mad had never once asked him if touching Gus was okay.

Not that he’d asked Dax. As far as Roman knew, whatever developed between him and Dax’s sister was going to come as a hell of a surprise.

He held out a hand, blocking the open door so she couldn’t get in the car. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you by sending Connor here. I was simply worried. There’s more you don’t know. I want to tell you, but, damn it, Gus, you can be so reckless. I’m worried if I let you in on everything, you’ll try to fix this on your own. You’ve always broken off from the pack and done your own thing. But the implications are bigger than just Mad’s death or Constance’s, or even your father’s. And now that whoever is behind all this is trying to blackmail Zack, I’m sure you’ve figured out this is serious. I can’t let you go rogue.”

She laughed, the sound tinged with bitterness. “Roman, I’ve never broken off from the pack to go it alone intentionally. I didn’t have a pack to run to, and I was never one of you. Even when I was sleeping with one of you. At the time I thought no woman ever would be included in the inner circle, but I was wrong. You’ve accepted Everly and Lara, and Holland fits right in. Joy was on the inside, too. I know if Mad had lived and married Sara, she would have been included with you all. I’m the only one who gets shut out.”

Because she’d picked the wrong gentleman. She’d picked the one who couldn’t love the way the others did. Roman frowned, but that didn’t stop his hard truths. He’d been handed someone amazing at a young age and he’d kicked her to the curb because she hadn’t been who or what he’d thought she should be. She hadn’t fit the ideal in his mind of whom he should love.

He stood frozen as she sat and buckled her seatbelt.

She wouldn’t look at him, and he didn’t blame her.

With a long sigh, Roman closed the door. Gus was here with him, but she still felt alone. That much was apparent. He couldn’t ignore the fact that he was, at least in part, responsible. And the only way to fix the situation was to betray his best friends and potentially put her in danger.