Bullseye (Michael Bennett 9)

rry at all. “It’s that kind of day, you know.”

“Yeah, you’re right. It did come out wrong,” Paul said, continuing to give him hell with his Southie Boston accent.

I was beginning to like Paul. He’d been totally hands-on in helping the PD and FBI response teams at the crime scenes—not exactly a common occurrence for an FBI boss. Not bad for a Red Sox fan, either, I thought.

“Anyway, Tom, we’re still smack-dab in the middle of this,” Paul said, putting his phone back into his pocket. “Anything else?”

“Actually, yeah,” Kask said. “Follow me. He wants to see you. Well, him, actually.”

“Who, me?” I said. “Who wants to see me?”

“The president. Who else?” said Kask.

Chapter 11

With that, Kask led me around a corner of the incredible lobby.

We walked past two more Secret Service presidential detail agents and an impeccably dressed desk clerk into a waiting elevator. The doors closed, and the button for 29 lit up by itself somehow, and we started to ascend.

Kask ignored me and began checking his phone while I did my best not to gape at the impressive surroundings. I’d been in elevators for work before, just never a lacquered, bird’s-eye mahogany–paneled one that was inlaid with art deco sunbursts and chevrons.

The elevator doors opened onto a small Oriental-carpeted foyer where four tall spit-shined Secret Service agents stood at attention. Between them was a set of bright-white double doors with the words WALDORF PRESIDENTIAL SUITE written in gold script.

Before I could ask someone to pinch me, I watched as Kask opened the door without knocking, and I saw President Buckland for the first time.

Beyond another small foyer, the president was sitting in a little living room on a love seat with his hands behind his head. His eyes were closed, and he was nodding as an aide read him something. Then he opened his eyes and saw me and stood up and smiled.

“Thanks, Tom,” the president said to Kask, who immediately left. “Detective Bennett, I believe I owe you a thank-you,” he said, offering his hand.

I stood there for a second, staring at his hand, stunned by it all.

“Yep,” I got out as I finally shook his hand. “I mean, no, of course not. No, sir. Are you kidding me? I’m just glad that you’re okay. I’m just glad to help.”

“Oh, thank you so much, Officer,” the First Lady said as she came out of another room. “The whole thing must have been terrifying.”

She was Snow White classically pretty, with her dark hair and pale skin. She had on a cream-colored pantsuit but was wearing slippers, I noticed, and I found myself amazed again that all this was actually happening. That I was standing in the Waldorf’s presidential suite enjoying a chat with the commander in chief and his wife.

I’ll never forget this, I thought.

I couldn’t wait to tell the kids and Mary Catherine.

“Officer, Alicia? Really? It’s Detective. Detective Michael Bennett,” President Buckland said, rolling his eyes. “You think you’d remember the name of the man who just saved your beloved husband’s bacon. I mean, did you even vote for me?”

“You’ll never know, Jeremy, will you?” the First Lady said, winking at me before she headed back toward the other room. “Thanks again, Detective Bennett.”

“So, Detective,” said the president.

“Please call me Mike, Mr. President.”

“If you call me Jerry.”

“Okay, Jerry,” I said, finally at ease. I definitely liked this president’s style.

“So, Mike, I wanted to talk to you to get your firsthand opinion. I hear advisers say things that they themselves were told, and on and on like a game of telephone, so I wanted to talk to you. You saw this guy, right? In your opinion, this guy was the real deal? He was going to kill me?”

I nodded. “I was in the blind. Looked through the scope myself, sir—I mean, Jerry. It was dialed in right on you. He’d been there a couple of days, it seems. Not to mention the way he killed my partner. It was a hell of a pistol shot. My partner never had a chance. Then he got away with rappelling equipment in the elevator shaft. That’s about as professional a killer as I’ve ever encountered.”

“Mr. President,” said his aide from across the room. “This just in off the AP wire.”