"We're flying straight to L.A. I can have your clothes laundered or we can buy something else while we're there," Tony told me as we buckled ourselves into seats on the jet about forty-five minutes later. "What do you want to do about clothing, Lissa?" Tony asked when I ignored him. Again, I was left in the dark and there wasn't any way that Tony was going to tell me anything. I still didn't have a clue why we'd searched the house, the dorm room and several other locations in the Atlanta area, and wasn't likely to ever learn those things. Obviously, the whole thing made me a bit grumpy and depressed. And why hadn't he asked me to pack more than one bag to begin with, for cripe's sake? I had plenty of clothes at his house in Virginia, and they did me no good at all if I was in one place and they were in another. Resigning myself to buying clothing from a discount retailer that stayed open late, I settled into my seat on the jet and considered not answering Tony's question. "Well?" Tony wasn't going to let me ignore him for long.
"It doesn't matter," I sighed and settled back in my seat across the aisle. Tony wasn't about to apologize to me in front of the others. I was a subordinate to him just as they were. He pulled out his laptop first thing once we got off the ground, preparing to write his inevitable emails.
One of Tony's two extra agents aboard the flight had a copy of the New York Times and he offered it to me after reading it. I thanked him, grateful for something to read. There was an article on the second page about the child disappearances in Great Britain. Nine had now been taken. Another two had been found just as the first three were, floating in water with their throats slashed. My skin itched. I wanted to make a phone call so badly I could barely stand it but it would have to wait.
Flying to the west coast meant another extended night for me as we loaded everything into a waiting SUV. The extra space was needed for the other two agents, both of whom were human (although not nearly as stiff as Bill). I learned their names were Gene Pogue and Dustin Howell. Dustin asked to be called Dusty, surprising me a little. I was getting used to being treated with contempt or as an inferior, sometimes both. The informality of the nickname was like a breath of fresh air.
Tony was on the phone during the ride to the hotel, but I didn't pay much attention to his conversation. I wondered in a distracted sort of way if he knew I could hear the person on the other end clearly and it didn't take a genius to know it was the Vice President. What had caught my attention in the newspaper I'd read, other than the children missing or dead in Great Britain, was that the Secretary of State would be in Los Angeles in three days for a conference and speech of some sort. I had a feeling that was why we were there.
Our hotel was in Beverly Hills and perhaps the nicest place I'd ever stayed. Hollywood stars stayed there, or so I'd heard. I didn't see any when we arrived but it was three in the morning. "Lissa, do you need money?" Tony asked when we got to our connecting rooms. Bill's room was across the hall this time and I was thankful for the added privacy. I'd had a talk with myself during the trip, reminding myself that Tony had an important job and couldn't hand off information to just anybody, even if we had shared a few lip-locks. At least I was in a better mood when we landed at LAX.
"No, I have some," I said. Merrill had given my envelope of cash to me, but I'd handed all except five thousand back to him before I left. I also had my credit card again. I didn't need anything else. "Why?"
"I've asked agent Howell to take you shopping," Tony said.
"Tony, the only thing that will be open is Walmart," I pointed out with a sigh.
"Get some jeans at least," Tony said. "Will you pick up a few things for me as well?" He handed a list over. His sizes were on it; he was asking for jeans for himself, along with shirts, socks and underwear. A few toiletries were also on the list.
"I'll do what I can," I nodded. "Dusty isn't going to fall asleep is he?"
"Not likely. He's going to be a day sleeper, just as you are. I'm assigning you two to be night guards."
"Good idea," I told him. "Where's Dusty, now?"
"The room next to yours." Tony was already heading toward his computer case to pull out the laptop. He was in work mode so I didn't ask any more questions.
Agent Howell answered my knock almost immediately. He was prepared and had keys in hand when he came to the door. "Ready to go?" he asked, grinning a little.
"Yeah. Let's boogie," I said and followed him to the elevator.
"Tony says you're on loan to us," Dusty said as he drove out of the hotel parking lot.
"Yeah. And I can't tell you from where," I said.
"He said that, too. That doesn't keep me from being curious," he said.
"You'll have to get used to curiosity, or get rid of it altogether," I muttered. "Lord knows I've had to." Dusty chuckled and nodded.
Dusty used the on-board GPS system to find the nearest Walmart. If not for their penchant for staying open all night, I might not have a wardrobe at times. We ended up at a store located in Culver City. Time was short so I rushed through the store. Dusty had to run to keep up with me and we barely made it back to the hotel before dawn arrived.
"I'll have everything cleaned," Dusty promised, taking the bags of clothing from me. I'd carried my share up to our floor. I thanked him and nearly slammed my door in his face since I was about to keel over. I did fall face-first onto the bed and didn't move again until nightfall.
* * *
"Lissa, you really don't have any control over this, do you?" Tony turned me over so I'd be face-up that evening. I blinked a few times to bring his features into focus. He was dressed very nicely in a tux and set about picking up the bags of toiletries I'd dropped in the floor on my way to the bed. Shampoo and other things had rolled across the carpet; the rest was scattered near the dropped bags.
"No, I don't have any control over it," I mumbled. "Some of the older guys can stay up a little later as long as they're out of the sun. They wake a little earlier, too. But not me. Sorry." I had a hand over my eyes; the bedside lamp Tony flipped on made my eyes water.
"Come on, lazy bones, get out of bed," Tony sorted out his toiletries, setting them on the bedside table. He then grabbed my arm and pulled me out of bed.
"I don't think lazy has anything to do with it," I snipped, wanting to smack him a little.
"Come on, I have your clean clothes here," he pointed to a pile of clothing, all wrapped in dry cleaner bags. "Get in the shower. Do you need help?" He had a hand at the small of my back. I stopped and turned to look at him.