Veil Of Fear. Judi Lind
happened? Did your taxi get snarled in traffic?”
A light flush crept up her cheeks. Jonathan had been bedeviling her for weeks about walking alone in the city. Mary was willing to make some changes in her life to please her fiancé, but she wasn’t about to give up walking. Instead of answering directly, she took a drink of water and murmured, “The time just got away from me. Sorry.”
In an effort to change the subject, she turned and teased the rotund senator seated across the table. “So, Brad, what’s new with you? Have you voted yourself any new pay raises lately?”
“Mary!” Jonathan blurted out in consternation. “Really, dear, your sense of humor—”
“Oh, leave her alone, Regent. She’s probably the only straight-talking person left inside the Beltway.” Brad Castnor leaned back in his chair and roared with unabashed delight. “Voted myself any pay raises, that’s rich! Wait till I tell that one up on Capitol Hill this afternoon.”
Camille Castnor, the senator’s wife, took a tiny sip from her glass of chardonnay and gave Mary a wan smile. “I hope I’m not speaking out of turn, Mary, dear, but after you and Jonathan are married, you will have to watch your...little witticisms. Someone might overhear and misunderstand.”
It was on the tip of Mary’s tongue to remind Camille that her husband’s voting history was a matter of public record, and he had, in fact, been one of the ringleaders involved in the latest senate pay hike. She was saved from her own candor by the waiter who approached their table, glistening white cloth draped over his arm.
“May I bring ma’mselle a cocktail before her meal?”
“No, thank you. Water will be fine,” Mary said, and picked up the menu.
After they ordered, the mood became more festive when Brad proposed a toast to celebrate the announcement of Jonathan and Mary’s engagement.
“Ah, yes,” Camille said, holding her glass for her husband to fill. “I saw the happy couple made the cover of Newsweek. I’m impressed.” Her tone implied she was anything but impressed.
“Is that so?” Brad boomed. “Hope you saved it for me.”
Camille smiled sweetly. “I cut the article out for my scrapbook, but you can read it. Let’s have the toast now. To Jonathan and Mary, an unusual but adorable couple.”
“So when’s the big date?” Brad asked after the foursome had clinked glasses.
“We haven’t set a date yet,” Jonathan answered. “Probably sometime in the early fall. I was willing to wait until we could book the cathedral, but Mary said she’d rather have a small, more intimate ceremony.”
Camille raised an eyebrow. “A small wedding means some important people will be left out. That could come back to haunt you at election time, Jonathan.”
He shrugged. “Perhaps. But this was Mary’s decision.”
Mary set down her salad fork and took a deep, calming breath. “That’s not fair, Jonathan. We discussed this and I thought we’d agreed.”
He reached across the snowy linen cloth to take her hand in his. “Why so prickly? I was just having a bit of fun with you, dear. Your feathers are ruffling awfully easily today. Are you sure you’re all right? I mean, you seem a bit... edgy.”
He’d hit the nail squarely on the head, Mary conceded to herself. She was tense. That incident on Wisconsin Avenue was bothering her more than she wanted to admit. She hated to bring up the subject in front of the Castnors but felt she should at least explain her sudden moodiness.
Mary ran a fingertip around the rim of her water goblet, trying to find the right place to begin. “Do you remember last week when I told you that I had the oddest impression that someone was watching me?”
“Certainly.” Jonathan smiled. “And I told you that I didn’t want to let you out of my sight, so I was having my imagination follow you around.”
Camille rolled her eyes. “Oh, God, that’s just too, too sweet for words.”
Ignoring Camille’s sarcasm, Mary continued. “Anyway, I’ve had that feeling several more times since then. When I was walking here today, suddenly I just knew someone was behind me.”
“Good heavens, Mary, I thought we discussed your walking around the city by yourself.”
Mary raised her chin and stared into Jonathan’s pale gray eyes, now dark with irritation. “Yes, Jonathan, we discussed it, but the day was so beautiful I decided to walk.”
“But you see what happens? There probably was a mugger trailing you, just waiting for the right moment to snatch your purse. I wish you’d listen to me, Mary. I know this city.”
“Jonathan, whether or not I should walk around Washington on my own isn’t the issue here. Besides, you’ve said all along that this...this feeling is nothing more than premarital jitters.”
The senator hooted. “I wonder what Freud would say about the symbolism—she’s engaged to one man and fantasizing about being pursued by another!”
“That’s not funny,” Jonathan snapped.
“Sorry. It was meant to be.”
Mary stifled a grin. She rather enjoyed the senator’s sense of humor. People in politics tended to take themselves quite seriously, if her recent introduction into the Washington social strata was any indication. In fact, it sometimes seemed she and Brad Castnor were the only people within the Beltway who had a sense of humor.
Apparently satisfied that his friend’s apology was sincere, Jonathan turned back to Mary. “Darling, exactly how often have you had this feeling of being watched?”
She closed her eyes and considered. “At least five or six different times. And they weren’t all when I was out in public. Once when I was at the hairdresser’s, I sensed someone staring at me through the front window.”
Camille leaned forward. “Mary, how horrible! Why didn’t you say something? I could have asked Henri to give you a more secluded booth in the rear.”
Mary shook her head. “I can’t go through life riding in taxis and hiding in the back rooms of beauty salons. If someone is following me, then I need to take some reasonable precautions.” She placed a strong emphasis on reasonable. “In fact, I’m thinking about buying a gun.”
Jonathan threaded his fingers together and stared at her. “I don’t think that’s wise. I believe statistics will bear me out here, Mary. Unless you’re completely prepared to use that gun and perhaps take another person’s life, owning a firearm is more of a liability than an asset. Besides, I really don’t believe a weapon is necessary.”
“I’m surprised to hear you say that, Regent,” the senator interjected. “If someone is really following Mary, she could be in danger.”
Jonathan shook his head. Rather than respond directly to his friend, he continued addressing his remarks to Mary. “Forgive me, my dear, but I’m still not convinced that what you’ve been experiencing isn’t merely a case of nerves. But if someone is lurking around beauty shops, I’m sure it’s that unemployed waiter you used to date.”
Mary stifled a grin at Jonathan’s description of her previous boyfriend. Despite her continued protests that she and Mark Lester had never had a serious relationship, Jonathan still acted jealous whenever Mark’s name came up. And he knew perfectly well that Mark had only worked as a waiter a few nights a week to help cover his graduate-school expenses.
She couldn’t seriously believe that Mark was skulking around behind her, watching her every move. He hadn’t been that interested when they were dating.
Camille, as if annoyed that the conversation was centered on Mary’s welfare, pointedly shifted the subject. “Well, I’m sure Mary will take every precaution just in case some