Honor Bound

Chapter Twelve

"Is Dawn in the aerie?" Megan asked the agent who was simultaneously watching a bank of six monitors displaying strategic points throughout the apartment building and running a real-time video of the previous twelve hours that had been captured by the cameras mounted at each corner of the external perimeter. He was able to view foot and vehicular traffic directly in front of the building for any time and from almost any direction he chose.

Without taking his eyes off the screens, he answered, "No ma'am. She went upstairs briefly and then directly into the park."

Megan glanced at the far upper-right monitor that showed a panoramic view of Gramercy Park, the block-wide private park across the street from Normani's apartment building. It was surrounded by towering pre-war buildings and completely enclosed with a high wrought-iron fence. She couldn't actually make visual contact with Normani, the foliage was too dense to permit that. Nevertheless, she looked for her.

"That's where I'll be," she finally said.

"Roger that," he said, making a note on his handheld personal unit about something he had seen on the video that he wanted to review from a different angle.

Megan was very much aware that Patrick Doyle was still on site, but she had absolutely no intention of being his tour guide. She had work to do, and her most immediate duty was to inform Normani that she could expect several new faces in her security detail. Unfortunately, that was the least difficult of the topics they needed to discuss.

She let herself into the park by unlocking one of the gates that permitted access to those with clearance and a key. The park was nearly small enough to see across. At the midpoint, in front of a small fountain, she could make out John Fielding. He was standing, statue-like, to all appearances staring vacantly into space. She knew, however, that he held Dawn within his sight line and was in all likelihood turning at regular intervals to keep the entire square under careful watch. There was no way for a Secret Service agent to be unseen, and under some circumstances invisibility wasn't even desirable. The visible presence of a bodyguard was often enough to deter people from casual approach. On the other hand, Normani, like most in her position, understandably did not want every moment of her personal life witnessed. Because of that, the Secret Service agents were trained to walk a fine line between doing their job and actually impairing the lifestyle of those they guarded.

As Megan walked forward, she nodded briefly in his direction and he acknowledged her with an almost imperceptible motion of his head. She continued past him along a small gravel path flanked at discrete intervals by iron and wood benches to one of the most secluded and idyllic corners of the park. A riot of shrubs and flowers grew everywhere, a natural barrier offering privacy. Enough sunlight filtered through the overhead branches to outline Normani in a pale flickering glow.

Megan slowed as she approached, telling herself that she did not want to startle her. Actually, she just wanted a few extra seconds to observe her unaware. Normani was bent over a sketchpad, her legs drawn up under her on the bench. Her hair was loose, a riot of curls reaching down to her shoulders. Gone were her straightened hair and bangs, but she looked beautiful all the same. Megan knew how those tresses felt, flowing pillowy and silken over her hands as she kissed her.

She was wearing a sleeveless shirt that exposed her arms, muscled from hours in the gym and golden from the sun. She was striking in any lighting, remarkable in any pose, but never as much as when she was lost in her work. That was perhaps the only time, except after making love, when Megan had ever seen her at peace.

"Miss Hamilton," Megan said quietly.

Normani lifted her hair away from her face with one hand and looked at the taller woman standing nearby. The sunlight was behind her, casting Megan's face in shadows. "Good afternoon, Commander."