CSA Case Files: Campaign of Desire Part 3

"If there's nothing between the two of you as you claim, then why do you two have to state it verbally? It seems to me that it's you who doesn't want it to be officially over."

Kimmie was facing the kitchen, resting her head on her hand with her elbow placed on the back of the couch. Her eyes shone with so much humor that Phoebe had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from saying something in retaliation. Leave it to her sister to point out the obvious. Phoebe didn't want to admit out loud that she needed to see Lach's reaction when she brought up their past tryst. Had it really meant so little to him?

Chapter Seven.

Lach walked into the lobby of Phoebe's apartment building off Main Street and immediately saw Ethan and two of the sentries that would take over first s.h.i.+ft. The security guard for the luxury apartment complex kept s.h.i.+fting his gaze toward them as if he was uncomfortable having armed men roaming the building. Lach had no doubt that Ethan had already spoken to him, as well as the Managing Director of the property management firm. He took his time crossing the marbled foyer, not really looking forward to the conversation he and Phoebe were about to have. She'd made her stance perfectly clear months ago. There really wasn't any reason to rehash it.

"Did you have time to talk to Taryn this morning?" Ethan asked, stepping away from Brent and Jacob. Lach had met them briefly yesterday, once Crest had chosen which guards from Gentry Security would be taking the rotating s.h.i.+fts. They seemed competent and the experience listed on their dossiers was certainly extensive. "The emails Dunaway and his staff are receiving are being pinged back to servers in practically every country. Taryn said she's switching tactics in hopes she can locate the MAC address of the originating machine within twenty-four hours. Whoever is making these threats has extensive computer knowledge, enough to mask their IP traceroute and obscure the true originating server."

"Yes, but I caught Taryn before her morning run." Lach surveyed the lobby when two men in suits exited the elevators. "She wasn't in a talkative mood."

"You've got to catch her at five thirty," Ethan informed him, shaking his head in amus.e.m.e.nt. "Taryn has her schedule down and if you mess with her she'll hit you upside your head with one of her tentacles."

Lach wasn't in the mood to banter and nodded toward Brent and Jacob, changing the subject. "I spent most of the evening back at Dunaway's campaign headquarters, going through the list of media personnel that will be in the bullpen today. The press conference is going to take place at ten o'clock this morning, although you'll be with Kimmie at the college."

"Anyone stand out?"

"No." Lach shook his head and knew from the pounding in his temples that he hadn't had enough coffee this morning. He only drank the java from the indie coffee shop down the street. Now they knew how to brew a cup of joe and it certainly wasn't the sludge they made at the office. "The conference is going to take place outside in front of the campaign headquarters' building with a reporter from every news outlet in attendance. Seems Dunaway has already taken the lead in the polls for his party."

"Then the s.h.i.+t's about to hit the fan." Ethan lifted a Styrofoam cup to his mouth, taking a sip of the steaming coffee within. Lach couldn't tell where it was from, but he felt envy deep in his stomach. "Every political reporter on either side of the fence will have something to say to get the public riled. What about Daytime America? Do you have that covered?"

"Yes, the station is sending a two-man crew out to interview Phoebe. It should be a milk run if I can keep the reporter from getting too artsy." Lach, Ethan, and Connor all shared the same information on anyone in contact with their objectives. "Did you notice anything on the volunteer list?"

"Stewart Barnes and Hannah Ward." Ethan nodded his head. "Stewart has a juvie record a mile long and his father, who happens to be a fellow senator of Dunaway's, asked for his nineteen year old son to work on the campaign to keep him out of trouble. He'll probably be smoking weed out back of the building by mid-morning. Just the kind of thing the press would love."

"And Miss Ward's father has been known to get his a.s.s thrown in jail for protesting a little too irreverently on political issues. He doesn't care if it's left or right, either. Odd mix of politics, I guess." Lach had already sent in his SITREP to the office last night with his comments, and he knew that by the end of today there would be a more thorough look into the two volunteers. "Kevin is tackling the Dunaway family's personal friends, while Jax is looking into the other candidates and their immediate staff. I'm sure a lot of them will cross reference."

"Everyone seems to be pulling double duty, between this protection detail and Ryland. It wouldn't surprise me if Crest hired a few more prior servicemen and women to add to the agency's depth. Our caseloads are getting to be a bit much." Ethan turned and started walking toward Brent and Jacob. "Jax and Emily are planning Derrick's first birthday party. It would be nice to have all the roadblocks cleared by then."

"That's two months away," Lach replied, falling into step. "A lot can happen in that time frame."

Lach acknowledged the two men and the day's itineraries were covered on the ride up in the elevator. John was relieved of his duty and reported that the night had been quiet. He'd pulled a twelve-hour s.h.i.+ft, but it was a one-time thing. Sam Grider was Phoebe's second-s.h.i.+ft guard and he started today. According to John, neither woman had departed. Lach lifted an arm and looked at his watch. Right on time. He knocked on the door and they waited for Phoebe or Kimmie to answer. He couldn't prevent his jaw from locking up at the upcoming conversation. It was best to keep things short and sweet.

Footsteps could be heard and Lach instantly knew it was Phoebe from the rhythm of her steps. Kimmie's tread was a little heavier and more erratic. He could tell from the pause that she'd looked through the peephole and it wasn't long after that he heard the deadbolt release. He clenched his teeth the second the door swung open to reveal Phoebe wearing a conservative yet s.e.xy as h.e.l.l black and beige dress. The upcoming conversation would be short. Nothing sweet about it.

"Good morning," Phoebe said, making eye contact with each one of them. Lach felt a rush of conquest when her blue eyes darkened upon meeting his gaze but he quickly squelched it. "Please come in. Kimmie is almost ready and I've got coffee if you'd like some."

"I'll take a refill, thank you." Ethan entered first, following behind Phoebe and preventing Lach from watching her hips sway. It was for the best. "Kimmie has a full schedule, but do you know if she'll be spending another night with you?"

"No, she'll head back to her apartment closer to campus." Phoebe gracefully entered the kitchen while both men walked around to the front of the island. Brent and Jacob remained outside. Lach continued standing while Ethan propped himself on the stool and held out his cup to Phoebe. "Do you take it black?"

"Yes, please."

They all turned at the sound of Kimmie entering the kitchen. Lach knew she'd exited from the spare bedroom, as he'd searched the layout of Phoebe's apartment yesterday. Kimmie was wearing another old St. Thomas sweats.h.i.+rt with designer jeans and her long brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She looked younger than her twenty-four years and her carefree att.i.tude was refres.h.i.+ng, but not under these circ.u.mstances. Ethan would have his hands full.

"Good morning." Kimmie went behind Phoebe and reached up into one of the cupboards, bringing down a travel mug. She twisted the lid off and held it up for some coffee. Phoebe poured the steaming liquid into both Kimmie's cup and then into Ethan's Styrofoam. "Ethan, try to remind me to bring back the other dozen coffee mugs I've borrowed from poor Phoebe. Also, I need to make a stop at my apartment on the way to campus. I have some notes I need for my first cla.s.s."

"If you want a personal a.s.sistant, hire one. That's not my job. Speaking of which, I need you to come with me and meet Jacob. He'll be close by, probably sitting in the back of the rooms where you'll be. I don't want to hear a complaint about either." Ethan stood and then patted Lach's shoulder as he pa.s.sed by and headed for the door. "Phoebe, thank you for the coffee."

"You're welcome." Phoebe had grabbed a ceramic coffee mug and poured the rest of the contents of the pot into it. It was obvious that she and Lach were staying behind to have their conversation. "Kimmie, be careful and please listen to what they say."

"It'll be a joy, I'm sure. Ethan obviously woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Anyway, I'm not the one going on live television today." Kimmie breezed through the kitchen and met up with Ethan at the door, s.n.a.t.c.hing up her tote by the side table. "So how's Fallon today?"

Lach missed Ethan's comment as the two departed, closing the door behind them. Was Kimmie referring to Fallon Canna, a profiler for the FBI? He'd have to ask Ethan about it later. Maybe Ethan was having Fallon run up a profile on their person of interest. It wasn't a bad idea, although Lach wouldn't have thought they had enough evidence to hand over. A few emails and letters made it hard to pinpoint a motive.

"Why did you say yes when my father came to you?"

Lach looked over the coffee mug that had been placed in front of him on the countertop to see Phoebe standing there looking like the most delicious breakfast a man could have. Her blonde hair was fuller than usual while her long bangs brushed lightly across her forehead. The pink shade he was coming to like on her lips glistened as one of the lights in the kitchen seemed to spotlight them just for him. He reached for his coffee instead.

"I wasn't given a choice."

"I find that hard to believe." Phoebe didn't move from where she was standing and he got the feeling she liked having a barrier in between them. "You seem like a man who does what he wants, when he wants."

Phoebe's cheeks flushed and Lach knew she was remembering their time in Iraq. It seemed to stir a bit of anger as she turned with the pot in her hand and shoved it on the burner with a little too much force. She turned back around to face him, leaning her back against the opposite counter.

"Your father asked Crest for security, not me. He got it." Lach tasted his coffee and was pleased to know she knew how to make a d.a.m.ned good one. "It's that simple."

"It's not that simple. We have a past of sorts and that could get in the way of you doing your job professionally." Phoebe took a deep breath, as she must have realized she'd just questioned his competency and he didn't like that. Not at all, but he refrained from speaking. This was a conversation she wanted. She could have it, but he didn't need to defend his skills. "What I mean is do you really want to be uncomfortable for however long this might go on?"

"You made your position quite clear." Lach took another drink, not breaking eye contact. She was f.u.c.king gorgeous. He'd had enough of this circ.u.mventing the core of her unease. "We slept together. You didn't want it to continue. End of story. I'll do my job. You just concentrate on doing yours, obey my instructions when it comes to security, and we'll get along just fine."

Phoebe looked as if she wanted to say something more, but bit the side of her mouth instead. He could tell from the way her right cheek hollowed just so. It reminded Lach of when she'd had him inside of her mouth. He felt blood rush through him and he s.h.i.+fted his stance.

"That isn't exactly the way I remember it." Phoebe took a step forward, her hands fisted at her side. "Yes, we slept together, but it was you who took it casually and made reference to the fact that it was a one-time thing. It is what it is. I just followed up with what you didn't. You can't blame me for the way the facts turned out."

Lach tightened his grip on the mug, wanting to keep going down this path she was obviously set on pursuing but knowing it was pointless. What exactly was a man to say to a woman after they'd joined together in such a spontaneous act, one that had taken both of them by surprise? If she misunderstood his words as him saying he wouldn't do it again, she was mistaken. The sad part was that now it didn't really matter.

There was no reason to tell Phoebe that he'd spent day after day thinking of her and wis.h.i.+ng she'd wanted to continue what they'd started. They were both adults and both knew that not all relations.h.i.+ps were meant to lead into something more. Regardless, he would have enjoyed spending more time with her, getting to know her. To realize she'd taken his statement wrong twisted his gut, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

"Regardless if there was a miscommunication, it's OBE." Lach finished his coffee and set the ceramic mug down with a thud. He didn't let on that he'd used that action to stop himself from reaching out to her. If she knew what he really liked to do in his spare time, he had no doubt she'd reiterate her claim that he didn't fit into her life. She was too refined and contemptuous to ever think his s.e.xual inclinations were up to her standards. Looking back, maybe the way things had ended was for the best. When he saw her confusion to the acronym he'd used, he clarified. "OBE-overcome by events. I gave Crest my word that this would remain professional, and contrary to your belief, that's exactly what I am. That seals this arrangement with a big red bow. Now that we've discussed terms, we need to leave. You need time to prepare for the press conference and I have some security details to work out with the crew."

Lach walked around the small wall, not stopping until he reached the coat rack and pulled off her long dress coat. Turning around, he found her standing in the opening with her hands on her hips. The frown that marred her face did nothing to detract from her beauty, and if anything reminded him of her tortured sensual expression when she came. It was definitely time for them to vacate.

"Wait a minute. Are you telling me that Gavin Crest knows we slept together?"

"Absolutely." Lach held up her coat, indicating they needed to leave. Phoebe stubbornly stayed in place. "Complete disclosure is essential is my line of work."

"Complete disclosure?"

"We really need to go." Lach didn't understand why his candor needed further explaining. There were a lot of pros to being direct. He wasn't seeing them right now, but he knew he was right. "I want to be at campaign headquarters before the three ring media circus descends."

"What do you mean you gave your word this would remain professional?" Phoebe had tried to mimic his voice and failed miserably. Had this not been such a complicated, serious, and downright f.u.c.ked up conversation, he would have shown her his lighter side. He did have one, but this was no place for it. "You told him you weren't going to have s.e.x with me?"

Lach realized from the moment Phoebe phrased her last question that they weren't leaving within the next minute. He hung her coat over his arm and planted his boots more firmly on the marble, getting comfortable. If she needed things spelled out, he'd do just that.

"One, we obviously had a miscommunication back in Iraq." Lach saw that her eyes were focused on his hand, in which he was using his fingers to count his bullet points. "Two, we now have a professional relations.h.i.+p. Three, I gave my word to Crest that our past wouldn't interfere. I'm not seeing where the confusion is."

"So what you're telling me is that you would have wanted to continue our relations.h.i.+p." Phoebe finally s.h.i.+fted her gaze from his hand to his face. Her blue eyes darkened just the way he liked, but there was a fire within that he'd never seen before. If he wasn't careful, it would start an inferno. "It wasn't a one-time thing."

"It turned out to be a one-time thing," Lach said, stressing to her that there was no going back and changing the past...or future. "Nothing will change that now."

Chapter Eight.

Phoebe sauntered into campaign headquarters, feeling more alive than she had in months. Brent was following her and she knew that Lach wasn't far behind them. There was a sense of self-a.s.surance she now felt that she wouldn't share with her father. This type of comfort was a h.e.l.l of a lot different than he wanted her to have. She truly hadn't realized how walking away from Lach had affected her until today. The entire drive here was spent reminiscing over her life and the choices that she'd made. Maybe it was time to actually take control and seize what she wanted...what she desired.

"Phoebe, Mr. Mooney told me to ask you how many pins you wanted for the rally next week," Hannah asked, looking a little too timid for Phoebe's taste. The young college girl needed to toughen up if she wanted to work in the field of politics or the wolves would surely make a meal of her. "I didn't want to bother you, but he said that you wanted to use a specific company and that you'd taken over the purchasing of promotional items."

Phoebe refused to allow Paul to ruin her mood, so she smiled and placed a gloved hand on Hannah's shoulder. After giving her the information she needed to complete her task, Phoebe felt a rush of heat go up through her spine. She had no doubt that Lach had walked through the doors and she couldn't resist turning to meet his stare. His expression didn't alter and she wondered if he was aware that things had changed.

"Phoebe, did you go over the notes I sent you?" Paul's question had her looking back in front of her, finding the pompous a.s.s standing there with a cup of coffee and a smirk on his lips. She knew d.a.m.n well he was referring to the cliff notes attached at the bottom of her father's speech, where it stated she was to stand at her father's side looking serene. "Bill did an excellent job writing it. Your father is pleased."

"There's no further need for you to add additional comments on my role or appearance." Phoebe slowly pulled off her gloves one finger at a time, ensuring that Paul knew she wouldn't be rattled or bullied into acting the way he thought she should act. She'd been in the political limelight her entire life and her mother had taught her well. Paul hadn't been too thrilled when he found out that her role in the campaign stretched further than the typical daughter. "Although you might want to have Bill add on why Kimmie won't be here today. It would seem odd to leave such a gaping hole for the media to speculate about, don't you think? An ounce of prevention in this particular case."

"What do you mean, Kimmie won't be here? And who authorized that?" Paul's smile immediately vanished. "We've had this planned for over a month."

"She had an exam her first period and there's no reason for her to miss it." Phoebe looked past Paul and saw that her father was sitting at his desk and looking rather forlorn. It was such a rare occurrence to see him like that and concern washed away the irritation she felt for Paul. It would be better for everyone if the two of them worked together and she didn't mind being the first one to take that step. "Paul, I promise that I'll represent my father the same way my mother would have. It's okay that Kimmie isn't here. In fact, it's for the best and maybe if Bill wrote something along the lines of Dad not wanting this campaign to interfere with his daughter's education, it might just go over well with some of the parents that are still on the fence."

Paul studied her before he nodded in accordance and headed in the direction to where Bill sat at one of the desks. There were more volunteers here today due to the fact that the phones were going to start ringing off the hook within a couple of hours. She knew the men and women would have all been vetted through Lach and his team, but she'd still take the time to introduce herself and make them feel welcome. Switching her attention back to her father, she finished taking off her gloves and placing them in her purse before maneuvering her way through the desks.

"Dad," Phoebe called out with a quick rap on his door. He hadn't looked up once since she'd been here and she knew he wasn't aware that she'd arrived. When he glanced up from the paper he was reading, his eyes brightened and a sigh of relief went through her. "You okay?"

"Yes, yes." Stan smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He continued talking while she hung her coat up on the standing wooden rack in the corner of his office and then set her purse on one of the guest chairs. "I'm just getting the key points down on the speech Bill put together. Did the rest of your evening go well?"

"Kimmie spent the night." Phoebe walked over to the coffee pot and poured herself a cup. "I told Paul that Bill should put something in this morning's address regarding Kimmie's schooling and how you don't want the campaign to interfere with her studies."

Phoebe walked back to the other guest chair and took a seat. She looked up and found her father scrutinizing her with a tender smile. Her heart lurched as he rarely took time to reflect on anything other than his work. She parted her lips to speak, but no words formed.

"Your mother would be so proud of you," Stan said softly as he scanned her appearance. "You've grown into such a beautiful woman, taking on the world in her stead. You have her patience, her compa.s.sion, and her drive to make the world a better place. And now here you are, putting your life on hold to support me and my campaign."

"Dad, Kimmie and I both know what this means to you." Phoebe tried not to let on that her throat constricted at his praise. He didn't like when she or Kimmie got too sentimental, and yet here he was doing the exact same thing. "As for Mom, she would have loved to have been here, side by side with you on the front lines."

"I know my career hasn't always been easy on you girls, but after your mother pa.s.sed away, it was the only thing that kept me...sane." Her dad tossed the papers in his hand onto the surface of the desk, leaning back in his chair and running a hand down his face as if he were tired. "I wasn't always the best father and I know that."

"Dad, that's not true. You always made an effort." Phoebe might have told a little white lie, but she could see her father was feeling a lot of guilt that really wasn't needed right now. He worked through most of her teenage years, but she didn't harbor any resentment at being left to raise Kimmie along with the domestic staff. She loved her sister and family meant everything to her, just like she knew what it meant to her father. "Losing Mom was hard on all of us. We all dealt with her loss our own way, each of us differently."

"Honey, I want to tell you this before we go out there. I need you to know that nothing means more to me than you and Kimmie." Stan waved his hand toward the bullpen. "The reason I went into politics to begin with was because your mother was so h.e.l.l bent on making the world a better place. We were young and idealistic. But this was my way of helping her, and when she pa.s.sed it was my way of keeping my promise. I-"

"Felt closer to her." Phoebe finished his sentence, her voice just as low and she realized she was afraid he would actually stop talking. This was a side of her father that she never got to see and she found she liked it. "I understand, Dad. Why do you think I took over her foundation? She had a way of making a person want to be better and to take on some responsibility for something greater than one's self."

"That she did. But I found that the path we'd chosen had become my destiny and I want this presidency more than anything. I can make our country stronger." Stan stood and walked around his desk, opening up his arms. His affectionate action immediately caused Phoebe to tear up and she placed her coffee on his desk, knowing otherwise it would be spilled onto the floor. She stood as well and walked into his warm embrace, placing her cheek against his chest. "Thank you for being by my side. I love you, honey."

Once again, Phoebe couldn't form her words around the lump in her throat, so she just tightened her arms around his waist. When she woke up this morning she hadn't expected the day to be filled with so many revelations. It was emboldening and gave her strength to finally admit that it was time to live her own life rather than trying to live up to her mother's expectations.

"Excuse me," Bill Pierce said, knocking on the half open door. "I have the revised text for the speech."

Stan slowly pulled away, but not before he placed a tender kiss on top of Phoebe's head. She made sure she was turned away from the door, wiping the wetness that had gathered underneath her lashes. It wouldn't do to have smudged mascara on live television. She would represent her father to the best of her ability while working on claiming her own life back. It was freeing to know that she wasn't the only one who needed to feel closer to her mother and that it was okay to walk on her own path.

"Dad?" Phoebe had reached down and grabbed a hold of her father's hand. When he stopped and looked back, she squeezed his fingers. "I love you, too."

"The press conference seemed to go well," Ethan said, his voice coming in loud and clear over Lach's cell phone. "Kimmie watched it in one of the student lounges at the college with a crowd of other cla.s.smates."

"There were no security issues." Lach was sitting across the street at a cafe, sitting inside the window. The location gave him a perfect view of Dunaway's campaign headquarters and Lach was able to scan the area without people noticing. Brent was inside with Phoebe, along with another guard for Dunaway himself. Connor was about, but Lach didn't have a lock on his position. "How are things at the college?"

"Jacob is sticking close to Kimmie while I hang back. It was a good idea to match her with a younger looking personal security agent. He blends in well with the other jocks and preppies." There was a long pause on the line, almost as if Ethan was making sure that he wasn't overheard. "There's this student that's paying a little too much attention to her, and not in the college frat boy kind of way if you know what I mean, or whatever the h.e.l.l they call postgraduates. I gave the name to Taryn around fifteen minutes ago. Knowing her I'll have his blood type in another ten."

"What's his name?"

"Austin Bentley. Mid-twenties, pampered. Most likely a mama's boy, but he's a bit odd and he set off my radar."

"Speaking of setting off radars, did you give Fallon the info on our threat?" Lach picked up his soft drink and took a swig. He should have gotten a cup of coffee for how cold it was by the window, but he'd needed to cool off after this morning's meeting with Phoebe. When they'd left her apartment building, he'd have sworn they'd been on the same page. Upon walking into headquarters, he wasn't so sure. "I heard Kimmie mention Fallon's name as the two of you were walking out the door this morning."

"f.u.c.k. No, I haven't spoken to Fallon about our current situation." Lach could hear Ethan's uneven breathing and he knew immediately whatever contact his friend had with Fallon was more on a personal level. Lach grinned and waited, all the while keeping his eyes on the building across the street. "It was nothing."

"I mean, it's not a bad idea to have Fallon look at it if she has time." Lach tilted his phone just so, enjoying giving Ethan s.h.i.+t. He was the clown of the team, even going so far as to bring popcorn to formal settings as he got enjoyment out of other people's misfortune. All in good nature, of course. It was nice to see the tables turned for a change. "Since she's on your speed dial, why don't you hit her up?"

"f.u.c.k you. If we need her expertise we'll go through proper channels." The way he emphasized the one word gave Lach insight to how Ethan thought of profiling. Some people just thought it was random psychobabble. He must have stopped wherever he was, since the background noise had faded. It didn't surprise Lach when he switched topics. "I'm heading to Masters tonight. You up for it?"

Masters was a kink club that the majority of the team members frequented, which happened to be jointly owned by Jax and Connor. Both were into that type of lifestyle and it just so happened that so was Lach. There was something about the power exchange between a man and a woman that allowed both partic.i.p.ants to be themselves where trust could be fostered and grown. There was both give and take in those scenarios, as well as both search and discovery within themselves. It was a beautiful experience of fruition and a journey of equals dependent on trust. Lach hadn't had that type of occurrence lately and staring across the street finally hammered home the reason why. d.a.m.n it.

"Yes." Lach watched as an old blue rusted-out Ford POS slowly made its way down the street, memorizing the license plate. It was the second time this morning and could be just a coincidence, but he wasn't one to take chances. "I'll let you know when Phoebe's night s.h.i.+ft takes up position."

"Sounds like a plan, brother," Ethan murmured and then disconnected their call.

Lach shoved his phone into the inside pocket of his black leather jacket after texting the license plate number of the vehicle to Taryn and then left a five dollar bill on the table. It was thirty minutes before Phoebe's interview with Daytime America. He'd already done a quick background check on the crew that would be working the cameras and they all came up clean without any flags. He'd stay in the background, giving himself the opportunity to observe Stewart Barnes and Hannah Ward. He hoped that Phoebe had gotten over her bizarre behavior from earlier. He hadn't opened the door when his phone vibrated with an incoming message, indicating that Taryn was on the ball.

Victor Ward. Father of Hannah Ward. Kevin taking inquiry.

Taryn's text went on to give detailed information, but it was enough to give Kevin something to go on. Was Hannah's father keeping tabs on his daughter or did he have more on his agenda? Lach, Connor, and Ethan would continue with their details, but they were a little better armed while Kevin and Jax ran the ground investigation. As for the personal aspect of this case, he wasn't so sure why he was agitated with the way things had gone earlier. The facts were stated and understood-by both of them. Phoebe had an image to uphold and he knew that she wouldn't do anything to jeopardize that, so this uneasiness must stem from suffering from the age old cause, lack of enough action. Lach would have to fix that tonight at Masters.