The Jefferson Key (Cotton Malone 7)
“Pauline and I should come to terms. This needs to be over.”
“Careful. Make those decisions slowly. There’s a lot at stake.”
His gaze agreed with her. “I’ve served my country. For forty years politics has been my life. I’ve been a good boy the whole time. Never once took a dime from anyone contrary to the law. Never once sold myself out. No scandal. I stayed to my conscience and principles, though it cost me sometimes. I’ve served as best I could. And I have few regrets. But I’d like to serve myself now. Just for a while.”
“Does Stephanie know how you feel?”
He did not immediately answer her, which made her wonder if he even knew the answer. But what he finally said surprised her.
“I believe she does.”
A car wheeled into Kaiser’s drive, and Edwin Davis emerged from the passenger side. Fingerprints from both intruders had been taken more than an hour ago and she’d been promised an identification. Davis had then been only a voice on the phone, but apparently he was on the move. The neighborhood had come alive with people, police cars filling the street.
No way to keep this a secret.
“The car they used was found a few blocks over,” Davis said to her as he approached. “It carried stolen North Carolina plates, and the car was stolen, too. Registered to a woman in West Virginia. We’re still waiting for the prints to run. But that assumes these guys have either been in trouble, registered to buy a gun, taught school, or any of the other thousand things that requires fingerprinting. The one I’m hoping for is military service. That would provide a wealth of info.”
He looked and sounded tired.
“How are the president and First Lady?” she asked.
“I heard he paid you a visit before you left.”
She had no intention of violating Daniels’ confidence. “He’s upset over Stephanie. He feels responsible.”
“Don’t we all.”
“Anything from Cotton?”
“Nothing from him personally.”
She caught what he hadn’t voiced. “Who have you heard from?”
“Cotton wanted no backup on the scene.”
“And you went along with that?”
“Not exactly.”
HALE REALIZED THIS WAS THE FIRST TIME HE’D EVER HAD A weapon pointed at him. A strange sight, particularly given that he was lying naked in his bed. Kaiser held the gun like she knew what she was doing.
“I’ve been shooting since I was a little girl,” she said. “My daddy taught me. You used me, Quentin. You lied to me. You’ve been a terribly bad boy.”
He wondered if this was some sort of game. If so, it could be particularly arousing.
“What is it you want?” he asked.
She shifted her aim from his face to his crotch, only the blanket separating his bare skin from the gun.
“To see you suffer.”
SIXTY-FIVE
PAW ISLAND, NOVA SCOTIA
MALONE STUDIED THE CRENELLATIONS ON THE CRUMBLING walls for movement. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach. His heart raced.
Just like the old days.
He retreated to a stairway and quickly found the ground. Leading with the automatic, he crept forward into the darkness of the inner ward. He stopped in the shadows and allowed his eyes to adjust.
A deathly chill crept into his body.
One that primed every nerve to be ready.
The fort was like a maze on three levels, rooms leading one into another. He recalled what he’d read about its lowest levels and the 74 British prisoners who’d drowned. The courts-martial had revealed that the fort’s foundations rested on a tangle of tunnels, cut from rock, high tide filling them, low tide offering a respite. The colonial officers claimed that they had no knowledge of the fact and simply chose the underground locale as the securest place to hold their prisoners. Of course, none of the Brits survived to contradict that testimony and none of the hundred or so colonial soldiers refuted the account.
He heard movement above.
Footsteps.
His gaze shot to the ceiling.
CASSIOPEIA WAITED FOR EDWIN DAVIS TO EXPLAIN.
“Cotton was insistent that no one be there except him,” Davis said. “But I thought that foolish.”
She agreed.
“So I had the two Secret Service pilots who flew him there keep an eye on things from shore.”
“What is it you’re not saying?”
“I got a call just before I arrived. There’s a lot of gunfire coming from Paw Island.”
She didn’t want to hear that.
“I’m waiting for an update before deciding what to do.”
She checked her watch. 9:20 PM. “Kaiser should be home by now. She told us eight thirty at the latest.”
“Has anyone been inside the house?”
She nodded. “They went in a little while ago.”
“The prisoner? Still quiet?”
“Not a word.”
“Some lawyer, expensive and connected, will appear tomorrow and demand bail. He’ll get it, too. The Commonwealth takes care of its own.”
A soft chime came from Davis’ coat pocket. He withdrew his cellphone and retreated from her.
An agent exited Kaiser’s front door and stepped over to her, saying, “I think you should see this.”
HALE HAD BEEN CAUGHT OFF GUARD. HE’D ALLOWED THIS woman to seduce him, thinking all the while that he possessed the upper hand.
“How long have you been listening to my phone calls?” she asked.
The gun aimed at his midsection made clear that lying would not be a good idea. “Several months.”
“Is that why you’ve been involved with me? To find out about the president?”
“At first. But that changed over time. I have to say, it’s been a joyous union between the two of us.”
“Charm doesn’t work anymore.”
“Shirley. You’re a big girl. You’ve never used anyone to get what you want?”
“What is it you want, Quentin?”
The storm continued unabated outside.
“For my family to keep what it has worked three hundred years to achieve.”
MALONE ENTERED WHAT APPEARED TO HAVE ONCE BEEN A large hall, most of the walls and the ceiling gone. Above him, on an exposed walk, he caught no sign of anyone. The sky above glowed from an ever-brightening moon, a cool wind swirling from east to west.
His mouth was dry from anticipation and a light sweat prickled his chest.
He crept to the far end toward a massive hearth framed by a crumbling stone mantel. A rectangular chasm, maybe ten feet wide and eight tall, opened in the center beneath a flue. He knew the hole was for hot embers, swept below for easier removal. The vertical shaft above vented smoke to the roof. He stepped into the hearth and stared into the opening below. Nothing but blackness could be seen, though the sound of surf was louder. He could use his flashlight and learn more, but that would not be smart.
The flue above might provide a concealed way for him to climb toward the roof.
He turned his head to gaze upward.
The sole of a shoe slammed his forehead.
He staggered back, but retained a grip on his gun.
The scene before him winked in and out, but he managed to see a black form drop from the flue into the hearth.
The form rushed him and they pounded onto a pile of rubble.
Pain seared through his right arm, which caused his fingers to release their grip on the gun.
CASSIOPEIA ENTERED SHIRLEY KAISER’S BRIGHTLY LIT HOME and followed the agent through the entrance hall, to the kitchen and a small work area that opened off it, leading toward a laundry room and the garage. A granite-topped built-in desk supported a computer, printer, and wireless modem along with stationery, pens, pencils, and other office accessories, all in a matching flowery print.
“We decided to remove the camera upstairs,” the agent told her, “so we came inside. Our transmission line was through the house’s Internet connection. That’s when we saw this.”
He pointed to the computer.
She focused on the screen and read GAULDIN CHARTERS.
A closer examination revealed that the company operated private air flights out of Richmond to various locales along the eastern seaboard.
“We checked,” the agent said. “Kaiser booked a charter flight earlier today and left several hours ago.”
“Where did she go?”
“Pitt Greenville Airport. In North Carolina.”
Fear surged through her.
Though she had no idea how far away Bath lay from Greenville, she knew it was nearby.
WYATT FINALLY HAD COTTON MALONE WITHIN HIS GRASP. He’d watched Malone’s progress through the ruins, the night-vision goggles granting him a clear advantage. When he’d spotted his target entering the hall, he’d made his way down the flue in an easy climb. Malone’s appearance within the hearth itself just made things easier.
His hands went for the throat and clamped tight.
They rolled off the rock onto the rough floor and kept rolling until they collided into another pile.
He slammed a fist into Malone’s ribs, working the kidneys. Malone reeled but did not let go.