The Candidate (Romantic Suspense) (The Candidate Series) (27 page)

Ben felt something drop into his right coat pocket. He glanced around the room to see if anyone had been watching, but no. The thick crowd seemed preoccupied bantering with their lunch partners, or else they were perusing their smart phones. 

Will my life ever be normal again? Ben wondered.

Ben slipped his hand into this pocket, where he found a round tin. He shook it gently. The rattle of the thumb drive was music to his ears.

He nodded his thanks before jumping out of the line and making for the door.

It was Fred’s idea that they grab one of the tall booths at Chief Ike’s Mambo Room to confab on what to do next.  He knew for a fact that it (a) wasn’t a spook or government wonk hangout, and (b) there were no security cameras.

 In fact, Ike growled if he saw a smart phone on the premises. What happened in the Mambo Room stayed in the Mambo Room.

Abby downed a whisky as she broke the news to Ben about her encounter with her uncle.

“Preston is in on it, too?” Ben’s hands curled into fists. No wonder Maddy was so wounded.

So, Preston Alcott was X.

“Yes,” Abby and Fred said at the same time. 

Ben and Abby stared at Fred. In unison, they asked, “How long have you known?”

Fred shrugged. “Since Lavinia handed me the thumb drive.”

“You mean—she’s your source?” Abby and Ben asked at the same time.

Fred threw up his hands. “What is this, a vaudeville act?” Old habits are hard to break. His eyes darted in all directions as he murmured, “Lavinia and I met at your wedding, Abby. She felt I had the right sort of job to investigate her suspicions. One day she overheard Talbot and Preston going over the fine points of Flamingo . Your uncle was angry. He thought it was too risky, but he signed on.”

Hearing this, Abby downed the last sip in her whisky glass. Ben did the same. It just gets better, he thought wryly.

 “Lavinia was angry at her brother. The Alcotts fought in Washington’s army. Abby, as you’re well aware, your father’s folk, the Vandergalens, were among New York’s first settlers. The day of Andy and Maddy’s trip, Preston was on one of his New York junkets. Lavinia allowed me into his private study. The files on the thumb drive were downloaded from his computer. I tried to decipher it at Langley and realized too late that the file had a worm that warned the Ghost Squad of a leak, and where. The rest, as they say, is history.” 

Abby nodded. “Where does that leave us? Who can we trust?”

Ben frowned. “Good question. Fred, I presume you had your reasons for playing dead.”  

“You’ve got that right. Two of the names on the memo’s pass-around list are my superiors. In fact, the list is a Who’s Who of muckety mucks. Not just those in the government, but in major corporations, media conglomerates, you name it. 

 “I guess that means the press is out, too,” Abby murmured.

“How about Barksdale?” Ben asked. “Did he get the memo, too?”

“I was pleasantly surprised to see that it specifically spelled out the dire consequences to be had, should he learn of Flamingo.”

Suddenly Ben leaped up. “I know who should deliver the message.” He grabbed Abby’s hand and pulled her out of the booth with him. We have to hurry, before it’s too late!”

“Who?” Fred asked, as he stuffed a couple of twenties in the waitress’s hand. 

“Supreme Court Justice Roberta Gordon. But we have to act fast. Today she is submitting her resignation to the president.”

Chapter 55

Fred’s kamikaze driving got them down Sixteenth Street without a police escort. “What are we supposed to do, just waltz right in without an invitation?” he asked.

“I was one of Barksdale’s largest donors. The First Lady, Sarah, is quite aware of this.”

“Abby, I hate to remind you, but the First Lady just attended your funeral. Despite your reputation for sainthood, I doubt seriously she’ll take a call from you.”

Abby smiled. “She’ll take one from Maddy. Especially when Maddy reminds her that Abby underwrote the restoration of the Roosevelt Room’s oil painting of Teddy, during his Rough Rider stage. She knows Abby was to have picked it up this week. I’ll tell her that I’ll be there in her stead, with the restorer and his aide, so that he can complete the work before he is due to return to the Louvre next month.”

 “Brilliant.” Ben breathed a sigh of relief. “Once we’re inside, we’ll be steps away from the Oval Office, where President Barksdale is to accept Roberta’s resignation.”

Fred let them out on Pennsylvania Avenue, a block from the White House’s East Executive Avenue guard station. The undulating crowd—which consisted of tourists, government workers, and the always ubiquitous protesters—soon closed around them.

The two-man White House security detail was wary when Abby approached them, but her knowledge of the First Lady’s direct line convinced them that she might indeed be someone who Sarah Barksdale was expecting.

Their escort arrived in a golf cart. The journey from there to the West Wing was the longest of Ben’s life.

 It was Justice Roberta Gordon’s opinion that Benjamin Brinker was a sight for sore eyes, no matter where she should find him.

Not that she expected him to be dashing down the hall toward her, just as Vice President Talbot was escorting her into the Oval Office.

Hearing Ben call out her name, she turned around—

As did Talbot. 

She watched as Talbot’s eyes narrowed; how he gave a slight nod to the Secret Service agent closest to him.

She turned toward Ben. Despite his congenial smile and declaration to Talbot’s security detail that they should have “No worries! The Supreme Court Justice and I are old friends…” the look in his eye was one she’d seen before—when he was younger, and determined to be the champion who could right all wrongs. It was the look he had when he was excited about the candidates he felt—no, he
knew
—could make the world a better place. 

She had been worried about his silence these past few days, since the horrible crash that took Andy and sweet Abigail’s lives. Whatever Ben was up to, she knew it was important, and that she had to help him succeed.

Talbot’s Secret Service agent tried to block her old friend from reaching her, but Ben’s underhanded toss sent something tiny—a USB flash drive, from the look of it, with some comic book character drawn on it—hurtling her way.

The urgency of Ben’s words—
“Make sure Barksdale sees this, no matter what”
—intrigued her, as did the fact that Talbot was more angry than surprised about the chain of events.

The flash drive dropped and skittered to a halt right in front of her. 

So when Talbot reached down for it, Roberta thought nothing at all about pressing her heel on his hand. 

When he jerked it away, she grabbed it first. “I think this was meant for me,” she purred sweetly. 

Before he could respond, she strolled into the Oval Office, shutting the door behind her.

Roberta was determined that Ben’s detention with his Secret Service interrogators be short and sweet: perhaps no longer than her meeting with President Barksdale.

She didn’t resign, as intended and expected. Instead, she insisted the thumb drive was a gift to the president—

One which he should open right then and there, in her presence.

Her calm but steely tone encouraged him to oblige her.

She read over his shoulder as he opened one file after another on something called Operation Flamingo. 

Should it succeed, thousands of Americans would lose their lives. Political factions would rally a frightened constituency to insist he declare war on a country that had nothing to do with the tragedy. And to Barksdale’s horror, his second-in-command, a man he despised, would use the incident to catapult himself into the presidency. 

He sat silently, numbed by the evidence confronting him.

 “You must arrest the vice president immediately,” Roberta reasoned with him. 

 “But Roberta…I—”

She waved his hesitation away with an elegant hand. “He is committing treason, and framing innocent men for his crimes. And he has murdered his political opponent. It could just as easily have been you, Mr. President. After all, only you now stand in his way.”

Barksdale blanched at that thought, until she added, “Edward, you must protect your presidential legacy. Otherwise you too will be implicated, and you too will face impeachment and criminal proceedings, for high crimes, based on this evidence.” 

Barksdale sighed. She was right. The last thing he’d want his enemies to chant was: “What did Barksdale know, and when did he know it?”

He buzzed for his chief of security. 

When the man came, Roberta sat silently as the president growled, “Arrest the vice president.” 

“Oh, and Mr. President? The young man who uncovered the scheme must be released immediately from Secret Service custody. I suggest he be brought here to you, so that he may fill you in on all he knows.”

Chapter 56

By the time Ben, Abby and Fred had been debriefed, there were less than five hours to go before the Pacific Time countdown to midnight. 

Talbot was denying everything. He pleaded the fifth, and asked to see his lawyer.

Talbot was put in lockdown, but his staff and family were told that he had joined the president at Camp David. His cell phones and computers, both at his office in the Eisenhower building and in his official residence—Number One Observatory Circle, on the grounds of the United States Naval Observatory—had been confiscated, and were being searched for any incriminating evidence.

Fail-safe for Operation Flamingo was to be confirmed via text from Smith to Talbot, from a cell phone listed under the name of Talbot’s six-year-old grandson.  

Smith would text:
Grandpa, thanks for taking me to the movies this weekend!

The mission would be aborted if Talbot texted back,
Sorry, Jimmy, I’ve got to work

Talbot never texted back.

Because he didn’t trust Talbot, Smith texted his mole inside the veep’s office to ask about his boss’s whereabouts. The response—
with POTUS, at Camp David with families
—made him breathe easier.