“Vanessa’s office.”
“Remember, everything you say is probably being monitored.”
“They’ll just assume I’m up to my old tricks. Turn down the TV.”
The sudden silence was as jarring as the racket had been. “Good morning,” Barrie said pleasantly when her call was answered. “My name is Sally May Henderson. I represent the Daughters of the American Revolution. We would very much like to present the First Lady with one of our distinguished service awards in recognition of her ongoing campaign to feed and shelter the homeless.”
She emphasized that the organization wished to present the award in person. “The publicity would bring to the nation’s attention the continued need for the shelters and soup kitchens the First Lady has been so instrumental in organizing.” Politely, but firmly, she was told that a meeting wasn’t possible in the near future. The First Lady was still recovering from her recent indisposition.
“I see. Well, please extend to her our warmest regards. We’ll be in touch again.” She hung up and turned to Daily and Gray. “Her staff has been instructed not to schedule any appointments for her until they get the go-ahead from Dr. Allan.”
Gray turned up the volume on the TV again, then said, “David is going for broke.”
“It seems so.”
Daily was rubbing his jaw, looking worried. “Are you suggesting what I think you are?”
Bondurant said, “Vanessa has become less of an asset and more of a liability. David eliminates liabilities.”
“You’re guessing,” Daily stressed.
“Uh-uh. I know.” Gray returned to the sofa and sat down. For a moment no one said anything.
Finally, Barrie spoke up. “My career has been a joke. I’ve screwed up more often than not. God knows, my gut instinct is anything but reliable. But this time I know I’m right. Our president is a criminal.” She looked up at Gray. “I may distrust my instincts, but I trust yours.”
“Thanks.” He glanced at Daily, then back at her. “Look, you two should take an extended vacation, somewhere out of the country. If David is convinced that you’ve given up, that you’re no longer a threat, he’ll relax his vigilance. I’ll take it from here, and hopefully save Vanessa before David can implement plan B.”
“Not bloody likely,” Barrie said heatedly. “We’re talking about the attempted murder of the First Lady. As a citizen, I can’t turn my back on that. Not only that, but I was the first one Vanessa approached for help. If I hadn’t misread the signs, she might be safely with her father now. Because I dropped the ball, she’s still under her husband’s tyranny.
“And it’s because of his treachery that I’ve lost everything that was important to me. Cronkite, my home, my job. I’ve got a vendetta against that son of a bitch in the Oval Office. And God help him. Because
I’m the worst kind of enemy to have. One who has nothing left to lose.”
“Except your hide,” Daily said, wheezing.
“No,” she said softly, “except you, Daily.”
“Don’t turn those teary eyes on me, missy. You’ve got shit for brains. Both of you,” he said, cutting his eyes between her and Gray.
“How can we not expose Merritt for what he is?” she asked gently.
“You’re talking crazy. Have you two listened to yourselves? He’s the freaking President of the United States. The highest office in the land and the most powerful individual in the world. You fuck with him, you’ll wind up dead.”
Barrie looked at Gray and saw in his eyes a commitment that matched her own. Ironically, the very thing that had kept them apart now bound them together.
Turning back to Daily, she said, “If Merritt plans to have me killed, I at least want to put up a fight. But I refuse to place you in danger. Take the long vacation.”
“You should leave this afternoon, as soon as arrangements can be made,” Gray urged.
“Where would you like to go, Daily? Mexico?”
“And get the trots? Hell no.”
“The Bahamas?”
“There’s a hurricane in the Caribbean. Don’t you watch the news?”
“Australia?”