“Dad, don’t you think you could ask George how she is first, instead of yelling?” Nancy asked diplomatically.
Carson Drew caught himself. “I’m sorry,” he said. “How are you, George? Is there anything I can do?”
“I’m fine, thanks. But I think I’ll go soak my aching bones in a nice hot tub.” George vanished discreetly.
Nancy and Senator Kilpatrick exchanged glances. “Dad, have you had any lunch yet?” Nancy asked. Not waiting for an answer, she went to the door and asked the guards to order something up. Behind her, Carson Drew and the senator began to exchange words.
“Carson, believe me, there was no way I could have foreseen that Nancy would be in danger. Or George—or Teresa Montenegro, for that matter.” Something in Marilyn Kilpatrick’s voice made Nancy’s father grow sober and attentive. “No one knew Roberto was going to try to smuggle that hit list to me. No one other than the San Carlos dictator and his hit squad knew the list existed.”
“Except this Roberto,” Nancy’s father retorted with irritation.
“Roberto knew because he was a member of an underground group trying to overthrow the dictatorship. A moderate group,” she stressed. “He found out somehow and got in touch with me because we’d talked when I was down there some months ago. He was afraid if the word leaked out to the more radical rebels, or here in Washington, somebody might decide that the people on the list were expendable for propaganda value. He knew he’d be putting his life on the line smuggling the list to me, and he lost his life.
“But he didn’t think Teresa would be in danger. A young female tennis star? She’s one of the best publicity gimmicks her government has! So I thought Nancy would be perfectly safe posing as her for the few minutes that the contact would take.”
“But Teresa’s not safe,” Nancy said aloud. “Why? And why did those guys shoot at George? Just because she played a practice game with Teresa? None of this makes sense.”
Then she gasped. “Suppose they weren’t at the stadium to follow any of us. Suppose they’ve decided Teresa’s expendable! What you said about the people on the list—wouldn’t the murder of Teresa Montenegro, while she’s in this country and you’re having those secret peace-making sessions, be the biggest possible provocation against peace? Especially if the other side, and the U.S. government, could be blamed? Please, call the FBI and have them search the stadium.”
In the shocked silence that followed, they all heard the door of the other bedroom open. Bess stood in the connecting doorway. Her face was glowing, but her eyes were anxious.
“What have you been up to?” Nancy asked with effort. “Or should I say you and Dan?”
“We’ve been driving around, sightseeing, but—” Bess stopped and her glow faded. “What is it? You know, don’t you?”
“George was shot at, and she fell off the top of the scoreboard in the process,” Nancy said rapidly. “Don’t worry, she’s only bruised and shaken.” Then she paused and looked at Bess curiously. “What do we know?”
“I’m upset, too. Give me a minute to catch my breath.” Bess sat down on the bed, locking her hands together.
“Dan took me for a romantic drive around the tidal basin,” she said wanly as the others waited. “Past the monuments and the Capitol . . . you know. He had the morning off because of the business with his car last night. We ordered him a new one. Brown,” she added irrelevantly. “In the meantime he’s using a car from the police car pool.”
“All in all, you two managed to have a pretty good morning,” Senator Kilpatrick said dryly.
“It started out that way . . . I like Dan,” Bess wailed. “I really do. He’s strong and funny and sensitive. He says just the right things.”
“Or at least what you want to hear.” Now George appeared in the connecting door, wrapped in a terry-cloth robe and turban.
“George, that’s not fair . . .” Bess swallowed. “Senator, when he saw there were guards here he dropped me off and went to find you. We heard on the police radio that the airport police collared a pickpocket at the airport last night. He tried to bargain his way into a lighter charge by supplying information. He saw somebody arrive on a plane from the Bahamas. Somebody called El Morro.”