William Chester,
Lou thought. The bodyguard had to be working for the seed magnate.
Lou spread his legs and set his palms on the wall, grateful that he had left the knife in the kitchen. When the driver finished, he escorted Lou down the outside stairs to the town car, idling by the curb. The car’s tinted rear window slid down as they approached. Lou was surprised to see a striking, well-groomed woman sitting alone in the backseat. She looked out at him, smiled thinly, and nodded.
Lou caught his breath as recognition took hold.
He had seen Darlene Mallory on television, in the papers, and in magazines, but this was the first time he had seen her in person. His initial impression was that none of the photos or video footage had done her even remote justice.
CHAPTER 37
Darlene opened the car door and slid over halfway to make room.
Lou stayed where he was, scanning the street.
“Is there a problem?” she asked.
“That depends.”
“On?”
“On whether there are any thick-waisted, bad-tempered, neckless men watching us, and whether your driver can handle himself the way I think he can.”
“Victor is Secret Service and very protective. He shoots anyone who even looks at me cross-eyed, then he asks questions later.”
“Good thing I can’t cross my eyes,” Lou said through the window. “Nice to meet you, Victor.”
“And you, Doctor. Not to worry about the other thing. I have an agent at the end of the street covering our back. Besides, I hear you’re a decent boxer.”
“Only when the other guy isn’t hitting back.”
Lou climbed in next to the First Lady.
“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, Dr. Welcome,” Darlene said.
Lou’s throat went dry as he struggled to find his voice. In the ER, he knew he was sometimes known as Dr. Cool, for the way he kept it together even in the worst emergencies. In fact, over the years, he had treated a number of prominent politicians and even a couple of well-known celebrities without losing his objectivity, except once when he asked for a photo signed to Emily from the previous year’s winner of
American Idol.
But in the presence of this woman, he felt extremely unsettled.
“Please call me Lou,” he managed. “I’ve found that being called doctor often carries with it heightened expectations.”
“I’ve noticed the same thing,” she said, her grip on his hand warm and confident. “Darlene works fine for me.”
“That’s right, you’re a doc. Do you miss it?”
“Only every day.”
“I’m not surprised. Even after all these years and a gazillion patients, I still love it each time I step into the hospital. It’s the one place in the universe where I actually feel like I know what I’m doing.”
Her smile canceled out his self-consciousness. “Same here,” she said. “My office was my sanctuary. I still think I could tell you something special about every single one of my patients. Pardon me for asking, but are you okay? You look a little pale. Sorry if I’m out of place, but once a doctor, always a doctor.”
“And a perceptive one, at that. You’re the second woman who asked me that question in the last hour. My thirteen-year-old daughter, Emily the Sorceress, diagnosed me over the phone as not being my usual bubbly, positive self. Forgive me … Darlene. I didn’t tell Em, but just a day ago, I was being chased through a cornfield by some professional killers who, when they weren’t shooting at me, were trying to run me down with a combine harvester.”
“Ouch! As the daughter of a wheat farmer, I know those harvesters. Thank goodness they’re not too maneuverable.”
“Actually, I was six-foot-nine before this one got me.”
“Well, no wonder you look a little peaked.”
Lou loved her laugh.
“Under normal circumstances, I’m a certified, dues-paying nonsleeper,” he said, “but there’s
no sleep
and there’s running for your life from people who want to shoot you or chop you up
no sleep.
I’ll look less chalky soon.”
“I’m working on a pretty endless day, myself. I promise we won’t be long, but I want to hear about everything.”
No, no, take as long as you like,
Lou found his inner voice saying.
Take all night.
“Don’t worry about that,” he said. “I’m tough.”
“My daughter, Lisa, is locked into me like a Patriot missile, just like Emily is to you. She has a tougher time getting a read on her father, but as you might have discerned if you’re at all political, not many people do, if any.”
Darlene’s expression was enigmatic, and Lou wondered if the statement was calculated or had just slipped out. He suspected it was spontaneous. This was not a woman who measured her words.
“I vote,” he said. “Does that count as being political?”
“It counts more than everything else put together. Good answer. Hey, Victor, this guy comes as advertised. I like him. Let’s go to Plan B.”
“You got it.”
Keyed by Victor, the window between the front and backseats glided shut. As the Lincoln eased away from the curb, Lou turned to look behind them, but never made it past Darlene. He was stunned to realize that the First Lady was staring at him as well.
She made no attempt to look away.
He could not remember ever being so immediately attracted to a woman who was not Renee, and warned himself to remember he was compromised by stress and exhaustion, and she was more than compromised by the obvious.
He felt a slight burning in his cheeks and suspected he no longer looked pale.
Darlene spoke first. “Do you need anything to drink?” she asked. “Water? Soda?”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
He wondered if she knew that he didn’t drink alcohol. He could see the car had a small well-stocked bar. She could have offered him a cocktail. Victor knew about his boxing. Had she been studying up on other aspects of his life? She said he came as advertised. They had to have done some homework on him.
“Before we begin,” she said, her directness not at all surprising, “You should know, if you don’t already, that my chief of staff and I did a little research on you when I knew we two might meet. Nothing too elaborate—mostly a little background checking, some phone calls, and Google and Yahoo, plus a dab of LexisNexis.”
“You wouldn’t be the first. What did you learn?”
“Let’s see. From several sources, we learned that you don’t get along all that well with the head of the Physician Wellness Office. We also learned that the poor doctor who went crazy in Virginia was back at work because you felt he was ready.”
“That about summarizes it. Anything else?”
“From Google, I learned that you dug yourself out of a hell of a hole about nine years ago, and have helped a lot of other troubled doctors over the years since then. From Google Images, I learned that you don’t photograph well and that your eyes are your best feature.”
“My dentist, Dr. Moskowitz would say it was my teeth, except he worries that I grind when smart, terrific-looking women say nice things to me.”
“Thanks. Are you grinding now?”
“Down to the nubs.”
That smile.
“I won’t say stuff like that again, Lou,” she said. “Sorry. I can be a little flip and flirty at times, and I have a tendency I’m not proud of to fish for compliments.”
“Not to worry, I have dental insurance. So … you checked me out, you emailed me, I’m here. What can I do for you?”
“Well, first of all, I wasn’t the one who emailed you.”
“No?”
“It was a man my chief of staff, Kim Hajjar, and I call Double M. It’s short for
mystery man.
”
“And who is your mysterious Double M?” Lou asked. “And more importantly, what’s his connection to Kings Ridge, Virginia?”
“Believe it or not, I don’t know. Our guy is either extremely cautious or absolutely paranoid. He has made it clear to me that his life may be in danger if his identity becomes known. He contacted me because of my friendship with Russell Evans—”
“The Secretary of Agriculture?”
“Former. He and I played in the Kansas dirt together when we were children. It was through me that he became friends with Martin. I’m sure you heard about the scandal involving him and a young woman, and his subsequent resignation.”
“Of course. I’m glad to hear that he’s not guilty, but I tend not to judge people, so I hadn’t formed any opinion.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. Double M wants me to convince my husband to reinstate Russ and get him back to work. He said the secretary was framed because of certain of his policies, but he didn’t say which ones.”
“Do you have any thoughts about that? I had heard that the FDA and the Department of Agriculture were at war over lots of things.”
“Because the food manufacturers don’t have to tell people precisely what goes into the food they’re eating. For example, the way the current legislation is set up, most products that are GMOs are exempt from the label saying they’re a genetically modified product. Their argument is that foods developed using new genetic methods don’t differ from the real-deal foods in any meaningful way. For instance, cows that are fed on GMO grain—are they GMO cows or not? The problem is that the government hasn’t made it clear who is in charge of what.”
“Go on.”
“I’ve recently been given new information from Double M. It’s that information I’ve come here to discuss with you.”
“Do you trust him?”
Darlene sighed. “Alas, my best quality and worst shortcoming are the same. I trust everyone—at least until they’ve given me serious reason not to.”
“In that case, I can’t think of a worse game for you to be in than politics,” Lou said.
“Amen to that. But don’t forget, I didn’t choose politics. I chose Martin.”
Lucky Martin.
The thought popped uninvited into Lou’s head, and began to nest.
“I voted for your husband,” Lou said, “partly because I have the same problem you do with trust, and I read more about you as a doc than I did about him as a politician.”
“Well, then, you’ll want to listen to this.”
Victor continued driving as Darlene handed Lou an envelope containing the materials Double M had compiled regarding the call girl he knew only as Margo. Using a set of headphones Darlene provided, Lou listened to the audio of the girl prepping to entrap Russell Evans and being obliquely threatened should she fail to perform up to expectations.
“The man’s voice, whoever it is, is digitally altered,” Lou said, pulling the headphones away as if they were burning his ears. “Whoever your Double M is, he is an expert in electronics or has one on his payroll.”
For a time, they rode on in silence.
“Tough stuff,” Darlene said finally.
“She sounds awfully young. I can’t help thinking about Emily.”
“Same with me and Lisa when I first heard it.”
“Do you know what’s become of this girl?”
Darlene’s expression grew strained. “Supposedly accidental drowning while staying with her mother in Florida. Lots of alcohol in her system.”
“Damn.”
Victor cruised past American University, then down Arizona Avenue, and finally to a parking spot just off the Palisades Playground.
“You okay?” she asked.
“A little shaken, but I’m anxious to hear how this all connects with Kings Ridge.”
“In that case, let’s walk a bit.”
They stepped out of the car into heavy, damp air and headed down a narrow, paved bike trail, deserted this time of night. Lights from the city reflected off the rippling water of the Potomac. Victor followed a good distance behind.
“I took Emily here when she was younger,” Lou said.
“I like to ride here when I have time.”
“With the president?”
“That would happen only if it would help him in the polls. Plan B was for Victor to come here unless I gave him a signal that I wasn’t interested in talking to you.”
“Let’s hear it for Plan B,” Lou said.
CHAPTER 38
“Martin absolutely deplores Russell Evans for humiliating him at a time when the polls have him at an all-time low. Russ’s father was a farmer like my dad, but Russ got a master’s degree and ended up going into academics. I always felt close to him. He and I are mutually interested in kids’ nutrition. Martin has forbidden me even to mention his name.”
“That’s got to be hard,” Lou said.
Walking slowly through the dense night, the two physicians shared information along with bits about each other’s lives. Their conversation was easy and animated except for Lou’s account of the almost-certain death of Anthony Brite, which was obviously painful for her to hear. After a while, it was as if he and Darlene Mallory had been longtime friends. Still, the tension that had brought them together was never far from the surface.
Lou sensed another feeling building inside him as well—the excitement of merely being close to her.
“Assuming those killers are connected with Russ Evans and Double M,” she said, “Anthony’s death only underscores the importance of our figuring out what’s going on.”
According to Double M, she went on, Gretchen Rose, whose name the president had submitted to Congress as Evans’s successor, had strong views on states’ rights and limitation of federal involvement in setting agriculture policy. Evans was close to her polar opposite.
“And that horrible tape?” Lou asked.
“Martin is quite the skeptic, and is already extremely prejudiced against Russ. I needed to find the girl on that recording to convince him that someone was manipulating his administration. Sadly, that’s not going to happen now. But Double M has another plan—something that he’s asked me to make happen. That’s where you come in.”
“Tell me.”
Darlene tucked her hands into the pockets of her Windbreaker. “It’s all about corn,” she said.
“That’s about as far as I had gotten in Kings Ridge,” Lou replied, “before the well ran dry. I feel like the six blind men each trying to describe an elephant.”
He described the findings that led him, Cap, and George to refer to William Chester’s crop as Frankencorn.
“Double M has never mentioned anything about this to me until today,” Darlene said, “but he called and said that rather than try to get Russ Evans reinstated when the president won’t even allow his name to be spoken, I should concentrate on stopping a shipment of corn that’s loaded on a cargo train scheduled to head west. I don’t know who supplied this corn, or precisely where it’s going or when, but I’ve been told that this shipment must be stopped.”