The Senator's Choice (7 page)

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Authors: Noel Nash

Tags: #Suspense, #Political Thriller, #thriller

BOOK: The Senator's Choice
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“If it

ll get you cooking faster? Yes.”

Hammond scurried off to the kitchen and clanged several pots and pans together, getting Zellers

attention.

“Go help him,” Matthews said. “He might be our favorite chef, but he

d be lost if you weren

t there to hold his hand and make sure he didn

t burn the house to the ground.”

Zellers chuckled and headed toward the kitchen.

“Better them than me,”
Jones quipped.

“Yeah,” Matthews said. “I prefer to eat food that hasn

t been seared black and tasteless.”

“That was only one time.”

“You

ll never live it down.”

Matthews walked over to Shepherd
’s desk.
“Got anything yet?”


You won

t believe this. The guy who owns this vehicle works for Ophion Investments.”

“And who exactly is Ophion?”

“No, what exactly is Ophion? They

re an investment group based out of Denver that specializes in environmental advancements.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“That

s what the website says, but they

ve been involved in some high-level action on Wall Street over the past few months. They

ve been buying up land and small oil fields along a corridor between Oklahoma and Texas.”

“Any correlation between them and the senator?”

“Not sure yet, but I just started digging around on their server and came across some encrypted files.”

“Found anything yet?”

“Not yet,” Shepherd said as he cracked his knuckles and gave Matthews a wry smile. “But this security is child

s play. I

ll have it hacked in no time.”

“Get goin
’. We don’
t have any time to lose.”

CHAPTER 9

SENATOR DANIELS PACED across his office. He only stopped when he reached the window that provided a view of the nearly empty courtyard. Without a thought, he began chewing on what was left of his fingernails.

The intercom on his phone beeped, snapping him out of his stupor.

“Is there anything else you need, Senator?” asked his assistant.

“No, you

re free to go home. Thanks for all your work today.”

“My pleasure.” Click.

Daniels slumped into his chair and checked his watch. It was 6:05 p.m. and Sarah Roberts was late. Not that he was thinking much about the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. His thoughts rested with Luke. But he couldn

t help thinking about Sarah when he thought of Luke.

When Daniels met Sarah two years ago at an art gallery opening, he almost felt guilty for his schoolboy crush on her. And based on their first interaction, he couldn

t believe she even gave him her number.

“See anything you like?” he asked.

“I

m more of an impressionist kind of gal,” she said, glass of Chardonnay in one hand and twirling her brunette ringlets with the other.

“I tend to like realism myself.”

“Realism? You must be a practical man.”

“Practicality comes with the territory of public office, but I like to know that what I

m seeing is the real thing.”

“So, who
’s your favorite? Rembrandt? You’
re not that unimaginative are you?”

“Actually, I prefer Thomas Winslow.”

She stepped back, surprised by his response. “That

s a nice change of pace. What

s your favorite painting of his?”

“The Reaper. It

s what I aspire to in life as all it seems like I do is sow and water and plow — but never reap.”

She stuck out her hand. “Sarah Roberts. And I can assure that I

m as real as it gets.”

Daniels spent a week mulling whether he should call her. He felt as if allowing that part of his heart to come alive again thirteen years after his wife

s death was almost cheating on her. Barbara had meant everything to him. He finally resolved that Barbara would want him to be happy, so he called Sarah. And instead of trying to woo her with some romantic date, he invited her to a Clippers minor league baseball game with Luke. Sarah didn

t seem annoyed at all and took to his son quickly. She even attended a couple of his lacrosse games when Roberts was sequestered for the afternoon with a committee meeting.

Daniels looked at his watch again: 6:10 p.m. He couldn

t tell Sarah
— the news would break her heart. And he couldn

t tell Sarah
— they might really kill Luke. If he could get through the night without her questioning what was going on, he

d consider it an Oscar-worthy performance.

Tap. Tap. Tap.


Come in,
” Daniels said.

Sarah Roberts glided into the room, shimmering in her black evening gown. Grinning wide, she twirled around and shot a look toward Roberts seeking his approval. “Well, what do you think?”

Mouth agape, Daniels stood in silence for a moment.

“Put your tongue back in your mouth. I think I already have the answer to my question.”

Daniels smiled.
“I

m going to be with the best-looking woman at the fundraiser tonight.”

“Just tonight at the fundraiser?”

“Tonight at dinner before the fundraiser, at the fundraiser or any time after that wherever we go.”

“Nice save. Are you ready?”

He glanced down at his watch and smirked. “I

ve been ready for quite a while now. I was just waiting on you.”

“I hope it was worth it.” She smiled, teasing him with an alluring glance.

He walked next to her and offered her his arm. “Shall we?”

She nodded and they headed toward the door.

Then Daniels

phone buzzed.

“Excuse me,” he said as he looked at the number flashing on the screen. “I need to take this real quick. Can you wait out there while I finish up this call?”

She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes. “Is everything all right?”

He nodded. “It

ll only take a minute.” He retreated into his office and shut the door. “
Hello?

“Senator Daniels, it

s good to hear your voice. I was wondering if you

ve received our letter yet.”

“Who is this?”

“One question at a time. You answer my questions and maybe I

ll answer yours.”

Daniels loosened his collar and tie. “I got your stupid letter, okay. Now where

s my son?”


Patience, Senator. I

m not done asking all my questions.”

“Now you listen to me—”

“No, Senator, you are going to listen to me and do what I say if you want to see Luke alive again.” A pause. “Now, have you contacted the authorities?”

“You told me not to.”

“That

s not an answer. Did you contact the authorities?”

“No.”

“Good. I at least know I

m dealing with an honest man. We know you haven

t because we

re monitoring all your communication and tailing you. If you get any wise ideas about bringing the authorities into this, the deal

s off and we

ll do with Luke as we see fit. Understand?”

“I wanna talk to my son.”

“I

m sorry — did you say you understand?”

“Yes, now let me talk to Luke! I want proof of life before I do anything for you.”

“Very well then.”

Daniels heard some scuffling along the floor and a few voices mumbling — at least three distinct voices.

“Dad?” Luke
’s voice quaked.

“Son, are you okay?”

“Yeah, Dad, I

m good, but please help me. I—”

Silence.

“Sorry, Senator. I

m sure you understand that I can

t allow you to have a lengthy conversation with your son. But remember the parameters of our arrangement as it regards to help. The only help you

re going to give him is the kind where you acquiesce to our demands. Is that clear?”

Daniels gripped the phone and set his jaw. “If you as much hurt one hair on his head, I

ll hunt you down and kill you myself.”

“Just stick to the arrangement, Senator. I

m a man of my word. And I mean that in every sense.”

Daniels slammed the phone down and let out a sigh. He ran his fingers through his hair and buried his head in his hands.
Think, Daniels. Think.

A light tap on the door and it swung open. Sarah stuck her head inside. “Is everything okay in here?”

Daniels turned and exhaled. “Yeah, everything

s fine.

“It sure didn

t sound fine. Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I

m just dealing with some aggravating constituents.”

She stared at him for a moment. “It sounded like it was more than that. Do you wanna talk about it?”

Daniels shook his head. “It

s nothing. Let

s just get out of here and have a wonderful evening.”

“Nothing like having a good time to get your mind off of work.”

He forced a smile and then offered her his arm.

***

WHEN THEY CLIMBED into his car, Daniels thought he saw a flicker out of the corner of his eye. He paused before pushing the ignition button on his BMW Active Hybrid 7. He looked around again but didn

t see anything.

“Are you sure everything

s all right?” Sarah asked.

“Yes, I

m fine. I

m just dealing with a lot.”

“It

s not Luke, is it?”

Daniels shot her a glance. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you guys didn

t have a big blow up or anything? He didn

t get in trouble at school or anything like that?”

He relaxed. “Oh, no. He

s fine except for being under the weather.”

“Awww. What

s the poor little guy got?”

Daniels chuckled. “Don

t ever let him hear you call him a little guy. He hates that. Anyway, it

s just a nasty cold. He

ll be fine in a few days.”

He buckled his seat belt and pulled out of the parking garage and onto the road. Then he saw it again — this time it was a pair of headlights that seemed to come out of nowhere. He decided to take a sudden right.

“What are you doing, James?” Sarah asked. “Oakhurst is west. Why are you going east?”

Daniels paused for a moment.
Why am I having so much trouble making up something. I

m a politician!
“I got a road construction alert on my phone. We need to take a different route.” He glanced in his rearview mirror to see the vehicle he suspected was following him make a quick lane change and fall in behind him.

He daubed the sweat beading up on his forehead with his sleeve.

“Are you sure you don

t have what Luke has?” Sarah asked. “You don

t look well.

He forced a half-hearted cough. “Maybe I
am
coming down with something.”

“And you still want to go? If you

re not feeling well, don

t think you have to go on my account. Half the fun for me is just getting dressed up.”

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