that particular description.”
“Thank you.” His return smile was uncharacteristically warm, charming enough to make her stomach turn a couple of flips.
Jesse leaned close to pick up the television remote control, his shoulder brushing against hers. Her heart jumped, and it took most of her control to keep from reacting to his accidental touch.
“They’re repeating your father’s interview.” He clicked the mute button to turn up the volume again.
“She’s gone missing and I have no idea where she is,” her father was saying to the reporter. “She left with a bodyguard after the wedding and failed to show up for the reception. Now the bodyguard has disappeared.”
“Do you think that’s true?” she asked Jesse. “Do you think those men disposed of Wilson’s body?”
“Maybe,” Jesse answered, his gaze fixed on the television as if trying to read her father’s mind.
“General,” the reporter said, “you’re the second retired military commander to make the news in the last three months. As viewers will remember, General Emmett Harlowe, a retired Air Force general, went missing in late August, along with his wife and daughter. All three were safely recovered but remain under protection, their abduction as yet unsolved. Do you believe your daughter’s disappearance could be connected?”
“I’m hoping my daughter is safe somewhere.” Her father gazed directly into the camera. “Evie, if you’re watching, remember how much your mother and I love you.”
“I still don’t understand what he’s doing here,” she admitted aloud.
“He’s talking directly to you,” Jesse answered. “What’s he telling you?”
She frowned, listening to her father’s words more carefully.
“Do you remember that Christmas in Falls Church, when you rode your bicycle up and down Oak Street? You loved that bike, but you had so much trouble learning to ride. Remember?”
She glanced at Jesse, grimacing. “So I was a little klutzy at age six.”
“But you never gave up,” her father continued. “And I don’t want you to give up now. Trust yourself—you know how to find the answers.”
“That seems really specific,” Jesse murmured.
“It does.” She looked at her father’s serious expression, trying to figure out why something about his demeanor seemed off-kilter. “He’s blinking a lot. Like he’s fighting tears. But his eyes are dry.”
Jesse watched for a second as her father looked into the camera, even as the reporter wrapped up the interview. “You’re right.”
“I don’t suppose there’s a recorder connected to that TV?”
“There is, actually. After your father’s interview aired the first time, I set the DVR to record the rest of this cable network’s news shows for the night. I thought we might want to see it again.”
“Can we replay it? I want to watch it again.”
“Sure.” Jesse bent close again, his shoulder brushing hers once more as he pulled a second remote from the coffee-table drawer. He pushed a few buttons and her father’s interview started replaying.
“See the blinks?” she asked. “It’s odd. They seemed almost—”
“Deliberate,” he finished for her.
“You see it, too?”
He nodded, his lips curving slightly. “The wily old leatherneck.”
“What?’
“He’s blinking in Morse code.”
Chapter Five
Evie leaned closer to the television. “You’re right.”
“You know Morse code?”
“Only a few letters,” she admitted. “I used to know more but I’m rusty. Can you tell what he’s saying?”
Jesse reversed and started the recording over. “It’s amazing he can blink code and speak at the same time.” Admiration tinged his voice.
“He’s always been a multitasker,” Evie said lightly, hiding her pleasure. It was an unexpected surprise to hear Jesse speak positively about her father, given their antagonistic relationship.
“Here we go.” As her father started to answer the reporter’s first question, Jesse muted the television. “I’m not such a multitasker.” He answered the unspoken question in Evie’s gaze. “The sound is distracting.”
Her father’s eyelids tapped out a cadence of slow and fast blinks. “It seems to be just words, not full sentences,” Jesse said after a few seconds. “One of the words is Espera.”
“We knew they were involved.”
Jesse nodded, his eyes narrowing to follow her father’s blinks. “Admin—administration. Definitely administration.”
“You think the conspiracy could go all the way to the president?”
“I’m not sure your father knows who. Just where to look.”
“What else is he saying?” she asked a moment later when Jesse didn’t say anything more.
“Ruthless,” he answered. “Deadly.” Jesse met her troubled gaze. “The last thing he spells out is be very careful.”
She stared back at him, shocked by her father’s message. “He wants us to investigate the Espera Group?”
“I don’t think he wants us to,” Jesse answered quietly. “I think he wants me to, and he’s giving me a place to start.”
“You mean D.C.?”
He nodded. “It’s where it all started, right? We know there’s someone high in the government pulling strings for the Espera Group. Thanks to my brother-in-law Evan, we also know there are people in the Pentagon involved in all this, and your father worked at the Pentagon, right? That’s why you and your family were living in D.C. when you were learning to ride your bike.”
“Right. And the Espera Group is doing a lot of lobbying on Capitol Hill these days.”
Jesse rose to his feet, his earlier calm control slipping away. He ran his hand over his crisp dark hair, frustration burning in his brown eyes. “We should have been looking there long before now. I don’t know why we don’t already have a crew in D.C. sniffing around.”
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