King and Maxwell (Sean King & Michelle Maxwell 6)

“Do you think he’s involved in this?”

“We think he was set up.”

“By whom?”

“Not clear yet. But we have some leads and we’re running them down.”

The president rose. “Then I should let you get on with it. I have an appointment outside the office.”

Sean and Michelle stood.

“Thank you, sir,” said Sean.

“Anything I can do, let me know. I can’t drop everything I’m doing, but this is a priority for me.”

“Understood.”

Sean and Michelle followed at a distance as Cole and his protection detail, surrounding him in a hard diamond pattern, walked down the passageway.

They went outside where the motorcade was waiting.

The presidential limo, known as the Beast, sat there with its engine running. D.C. cops had already cleared all roads the motorcade would travel on. The Beast did not stop for red lights or anything else.

Before the door was closed Cole looked up at them. “I’m counting on you both.”

Then the motorcade was off.

Michelle looked wistful as the long line of vehicles sped away.

“It is impressive,” said Sean.

“Yeah,” said Michelle.

“But it gets old fast.”

She snorted. “Right.”

“This way,” said a Secret Service agent.

They were driven back to their vehicle outside the hospital.

As they climbed into the Land Cruiser, Sean, noting his partner’s subdued look, said, “That was your past, Michelle. You can’t live in the past.”

“Sure you can, Sean. If you’re not too thrilled with your future.”

CHAPTER

61

“HIS FATHER-IN-LAW?” SAID SEAN.

He and Michelle were sitting across from Edgar Roy at his farmhouse west of D.C. The place looked asymmetrical in that the interior and furnishings were rustic, but there was gleaming computer equipment everywhere.

Edgar had texted them on their way back from the hospital that he had news to share. They had immediately headed to his farmhouse.

Edgar sat at his desk, which was actually a large rectangular section of sanded and painted three-inch-thick plywood painted black that rested on four sawhorses. Sitting on it were three giant computer screens set next to one another.

Edgar nodded but looked oddly chagrined. “Yes, Dan Marshall is Alan Grant’s father-in-law.”