Page 21 of Shadowed Agenda

Finlay knew what she was doing. Isla’s ego inflated at the sound of praise, and her smile became genuine. “That’s kind of you to say. There was no doubt that Regan would make it to the top.”

“Nice meeting you,” Finlay said, ending the conversation before Isla could ask questions. She looped her arm through Regan’s and waited for Pavlo to join them. They headed down the sidewalk.

“So, what’s this all about?” Pavlo asked, slightly turning so he could see Isla’s reaction. She had her cell phone to her ear.

“Make sure no one is following us,” Finlay said, turning her head toward him. “They could have posted someone at the hotel door.”

He arched an eyebrow in response.

She laughed. “I know you have skills. Investigative reporter, remember?” The cheerfulness in her voice disappeared as she added, “Shadow Defense helped a friend of mine out of a jam.”

Pavlo didn’t press for more information. He figured Finlay wouldn’t provide it, and there would be a good reason.

“What restaurant are we headed to?” Regan asked as they strolled down the sidewalk.

“The hot dog cart five blocks away. They make the best dirty water dogs in New York City,” Finlay said and grinned. “I thought a treat might perk you up, and there’s a small park nearby. The benches are far enough apart that no one will overhear us.”

“I know the hot dog cart and the park,” Pavlo said, motioning for them to join the throng at the corner of the block crossing the street. Whatever Finlay wanted to share with them had to be important.

Pavlo steered them to a store window front so he could use the reflection in the glass to check out the street. They crossed the street again. Regan and Finlay posed for a cell phone shot so he could get a good look at the people on either side of the street. He hadn’t spotted anyone, but that feeling he got in the field when he knew someone was watching wouldn’t leave.

His cell phoned dinged with a text message alert. Pavlo pulled it from his pants pocket and swiped his thumb across the screen.

Spidey sense tingling?

It was Drake.Pavlo texted back.

You finally showed up.

It was his friend he’d sensed following them. Drake’s surveillance skills were the best Pavlo had ever seen. The former SEAL had the uncanny ability to blend in with his surroundings, no matter where he was. It was as if he’d simply disappeared. Pavlo would have been disappointed if he’d spotted his friend.

Room 708. Nothing was available on your floor. There’s a book convention going on in the hotel.

Pavlo grunted. His cell phone dinged again before he’d figured out an appropriate smart-ass response.

Check your email.

Javier had just sent the background info on Wyndham. The Senator has invested heavily in two of his companies. It took Javier a while to track it down. Shell companies. Whoever set it up did a good job of hiding the connection. The Senator was listed as a shareholder with no position. If someone found out, there’d be no conflict of interest with his position in the Senate.

Regan’s ex showing up may not be a coincidence.

Maybe the Senator encouraged Wyndham to run for the legislative assembly. He’s his mentor. Wyndham is running in a district with no incumbent.

With the Senator backing him, Wyndham had already won the election. Campaigning was just a formality.

Who’s the other woman?

Pavlo expected the question but didn’t text back. Drake wouldn’t like the answer. Pavlo couldn’t blame him. His thoughts turned to Mia. Drake had been burned badly, but his screwup hadn’t jeopardized the nation’s security. Pavlo got the gold star for that one.

“I’ll grab the dogs, and you fill in Pavlo,” Finlay told Regan as they approached the hot dog cart.

“I’m paying for lunch, remember?” Pavlo grinned and passed Finlay a twenty.

“This isn’t quite the establishment I think Isla was imagining,” Finlay said and laughed. “The two of you better get your stories straight before you head back.”

Regan moved away from the long line, and Pavlo followed. She pulled out her cell phone, and a few seconds later, Pavlo’s cell dinged.

He looked at the photos she sent. Their significance was lost on him. Isla was entitled to have a life. “Who took these?”