by Carsen Taite
She didn’t wait for an answer before she started for the door. She’d hoped Zoey had been about to take her up on her offer, but there was no way they could make plans with Dixon in the room. It was probably best this way since she had a ton of work to do. Senator Newman had probably blown up her phone with messages. Powerful people weren’t used to her going off grid, and they paid dearly for the privilege of being able to reach her no matter what. She’d agreed not to use her phone during the meetings today, but she wouldn’t agree to it in the future. If the military had a problem with it, they’d have to talk to the White House.
She was two steps out the door when she felt a grip on her arm. She turned around and came face-to-face with Zoey. “What are you doing?”
“I think the more appropriate question is what are you doing?”
Rook jerked her chin toward the corridor. “Heading out. Did you have a change of heart?”
“About?”
Zoey’s expression was genuinely curious, and Rook started to think she was losing her game. “Dinner? My place?”
“I came to escort you out of the building. Rules.”
Zoey’s determined expression made Rook feel feisty. “It’s your first day. Do you even know the way out?”
“I’m finding my way around. Are you scared I’ll get you lost?”
“Maybe I’m scared you’ll get us both lost.” Rook felt like they were talking about something other than navigating their way through the halls of the Pentagon.
“Only one way to find out.” Zoey didn’t wait for an answer. She took off down the hall, and Rook followed. When they reached security, Rook hung back for a moment, unsure whether she should try to resume their earlier conversation. Zoey saved her the trouble.
“I only have two conditions,” she said.
“Let’s hear them,” Rook said, bracing for some huge caveat.
“I pay for my own dinner and it can’t be tonight.”
“Another date?” Rook asked before holding up her palm. “Wait, no, don’t answer that. So, tomorrow then.”
“Yes, but I’m serious about going dutch.”
“Really?”
“It’s business. I can tell you’re used to a certain level of…Let’s just say fancy meals, expensive drinks, and cars idling curbside to take you anywhere you want to go. Anyway, that’s not me. I’m pretty basic, and if we’re going to hang out, you’ll have to get used to that.”
“So, we’re going to hang out?” Rook smiled and then spoke quickly for fear Zoey would change her mind. “Okay, burgers and beer it is. We’ll settle on the details tomorrow.” She didn’t wait for an answer before walking away. Zoey might think of herself as simple and basic, but Rook sensed there was a lot more to the major than allegiance to country. Tomorrow night she’d find out what made Zoey Granger tick.
* * *
Zoey looked up to see David Sharp standing in the doorframe of her office.
“Everything going well?” he asked.
Well wasn’t exactly how she’d define her first day. More like a scorching introduction to military politics. The trip to the White House, being saddled with Dixon, and learning key facts of the investigation from a civilian had Zoey feeling she might be in over her head. Not to mention Colonel Mitchell blowing off their appointment and refusing to return her phone calls. But Sharp wouldn’t want to hear any of that, and she wasn’t about to ask him to bail her out. “Yes,” she answered simply.
“You don’t sound very convincing.” He strode in and sank into the chair across from her desk.
Zoey considered her next words carefully. “I appreciate this opportunity. I really do, but I suppose I am curious about why you chose me.”
“You want the truth or the sugarcoated answer?”
“Truth, sir.”
He ticked off the reasons on his fingers. “One, you needed to be off base for a while because the people you work with are pissed off at you. Two, you might not have official experience, but you did solid work on Nine Tech, which brings me to reason three. The suits on Armed Forces like you, so I figured the White House would too. And finally, I trust you to look out for the best interests of your fellow soldiers. Is that enough?”
She resisted pointing out that her fellow soldiers probably thought investigating them was antithetical to looking out for their interests. “Yes, that’s enough.” She blurted out the next question without deference. “Is there a reason you didn’t tell me this case doesn’t just involve students at McNair, but also some flag officers stationed here at the Pentagon?”
His look of surprise appeared genuine. “I thought that was in your briefing materials. Are you sure it wasn’t?”
She’d only had an hour with the packet before Dixon had shown up to escort her to the White House, but she’d reviewed everything again after Rook left for the day and she’d seen no mention of anyone other than the students at McNair. The omission was probably an oversight, to be expected in this giant bureaucracy. “I’ll check again. We’ll resume interviews in the morning.”
His nod was the only additional acknowledgment of her concern. “So, how’s it going? Anything interesting come to light?”
She paused for a second before answering, naturally hesitant to disclose anything while the investigation was ongoing, but quickly shook away the thought. He’d assigned her to the case and was her direct command. Of course he had a right to know how things were progressing. “Nothing so far. Looks like a bunch of guys with poor judgment, but that’s it. Of course we’ve only interviewed the officers who were enrolled at McNair and we haven’t talked to Donny Bloomfield yet. Some of the other officers seem a little reluctant to talk to us.”
“That’s to be expected. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” He stood and started toward the door, waving her back to her seat when she started to stand as well. “Don’t work too late. Nobody expects you to solve the world’s problems on your first day.” He paused with his hand on the door. “And don’t let Rook Daniels bully you. This is our investigation and she’s here as a courtesy to the president.”
As the door shut behind him, Zoey processed his words, focused more on what he didn’t say. He hadn’t told her to back off, but he hadn’t encouraged her either. Neutrality was to be expected and she tried not to read anything into it, but he was in a precarious position, since his promotion was tied to his boss’s future. General Bloomfield was definitely the one with the most to lose if this scandal escalated, but she couldn’t fault him with any interference since he’d given her this job and not reached out since.
Sharp’s reference to Rook was mystifying, but it wasn’t the first time she’d gotten mixed messages from a commanding officer. When your only directive seemed to be “do no harm” it wasn’t easy to navigate the politics, especially since she didn’t know much about the internal issues between the Pentagon and this administration. Word was President Garrett was supportive of the military, but no one could blame him for being wary about any hint of scandal.
Another knock on the door interrupted her musings, but this time the person knocking didn’t wait for an invitation before barging in.
“Are you Granger?”
She quickly assessed the silver eagle on the uniform of the shorter than average man in front of her. “Colonel Mitchell?”
“Damn right. Where do you get off trying to drag me into your little game? Tell your pal Dixon to quit calling my office and take me off your list. I didn’t have anything to do with those women and I’ve got nothing to say to you or your little lackey about it. Understood?”
She nodded, not because she understood, but because she figured any other reaction would send him running. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’m just following orders, talking to everyone whose name came up in the records of the Lorraine Darcy Agency.” She could sense he was about to erupt again and held up a hand, careful to keep her voice low-pitched and calm. “It’s very likely your name was in their records by mistake, but I have to talk t
o you to get that sorted out. Are you sure you can’t find time to meet with us before I finalize the report?”
His shoulders relaxed slightly, but his face remained curled into a scowl. “It’s a big mistake. Likely one of those damn kids who got into McNair because of their name not their potential is trying to drag me down. I’m a hard grader, but I’m not about to advance piss-poor soldiers just because of some supposed birthright. I have a family, for God’s sake. There’s no way I’d do the things they wanted me to do.”
Zoey struggled to keep up, but Mitchell was speaking in riddles. “I’m sure no one expects you to do anything that isn’t right. I’m only interested in pursuing the facts, but to do so you have to be willing to talk to me so I can sort out fact from fiction.” She paused to think through her strategy. Protocol demanded she not interview anyone on the list without someone else present to witness what was said. Dixon was long gone, and she had no idea where Rook was or even if she could make it back to the building quickly. Maybe she could get some preliminary information and schedule a full interview for the next day. “Why don’t you give me a rough idea of what’s going on, and we can talk more about it tomorrow? If you don’t want to include Dixon, I’ll have someone else on hand who might be more responsive to your concerns.”
He backed toward the door, his body shaking, and spat out his final words. “Leave. Me. Alone.” The slamming door shook the frame and Zoey stared after him, completely mystified by his strange appearance and exit. On impulse, she picked up the phone and pressed the button that would connect her to Lieutenant Louden. When he picked up the line, she didn’t waste any time.
“It’s Major Granger. Can you tell me if I have access to a personnel file for Colonel Mitchell?”
“Hmm, let me check.” She heard the sound of tapping on a keyboard in the background. “He’s on your list of interviewees, right?”
“Right.” Zoey resisted the urge to gossip about the strange visit from Mitchell. More tapping. “The system says his file is restricted,” Louden said. “Must be a mistake in the system. I can check into it and get back to you tomorrow if that works.”
“Thanks. Probably overkill on my part, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”
“I’ll email you when it’s ready. Anything else?”
“No, thanks. Have a great evening.” Zoey hung up and surveyed the files on her desk. She was at a stopping point and needed to leave now if she was going to be on time to meet the movers. What she would rather be doing was meeting Rook for dinner. If the movers were quick, maybe she could make that happen. She pulled out her phone, but before she could type a text, years of discipline took hold. She’d meet the movers and then prepare for Donny Bloomfield’s interview. Resigned to her boring but industrious evening, Zoey packed up her desk and headed for the parking lot, unable to deny the growing excitement about the prospect of seeing Rook again very soon.
Chapter Eleven
Rook’s phone started ringing at six a.m. She was on her way to the treadmill, located on the top floor of her townhouse, and for a second, considered ignoring it until she got in her exercise for the day. But the second passed and she checked the screen and took the call. “Good morning, Senator Newman.”
“Do you have any updates for me?”
Fine. She didn’t want to waste time on niceties either. “Matter of fact, I do. I spent last night reviewing the tapes of the morning shows and my team performed an analysis of the resulting press coverage. Your favorables are up five percent since the story broke. If we keep—”
“Five percent?” His voice rose. “I get a five percent bump when I kiss babies on the campaign trail. You can’t seriously think that’s progress.”
Rook rubbed her pounding forehead. “Senator, this isn’t a campaign for votes. It’s a campaign for your future and maybe even your liberty if the DA decides to open a criminal investigation. Every tenth of a percentage point we can elevate your image is a potential juror deciding you’re too nice, too sincere to convict on a manslaughter charge. Trust me when I say that we are making progress.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, sounding more resigned than apologetic. “Jeanine is not happy about all this attention. The press is following us everywhere and they’re scaring the kids. I can’t get to my office without a Capitol Police escort.”
Rook searched for a solution, and something she’d seen on one of the news segments last night came to mind. “Didn’t Jeanine graduate from Columbia?”
“Yes. She grew up in Manhattan. Her parents still live there. But I don’t understand what that has to do with—”
“Bear with me a second.” Rook put the senator on hold and dialed Lacy on another line. “Lace, I know it’s early, but there’s some kind of women’s conference going on at Columbia this weekend. Farah Hamil is one of the organizers. I need you to contact Farah and get her to invite Jeanine Newman to attend. Small speaking role, not one where she’ll be subject to questions, just something to give her and the kids an excuse to be away from DC for a while. Get Harry to start working on her speech. Something along the lines of you can be a strong, modern woman and still stand by your man. I want to see copy by noon.”
“Got it. I have until noon to roll back decades of feminism.”
“Very funny.” Rook knew Lacy was kidding. Mostly. “If Farah balks, have her call me.”
“Will do. What time will you be in?”
“Not sure. This new case is going to have me running around for a few days.”
“The one from Julia?”
Rook appreciated Lacy’s discretion. “That’s the one. I’m not sure I need to involve the rest of the team right now, but I’ll keep you posted.” After Lacy hung up, Rook switched back to Senator Newman. “Your wife is about to be invited to speak at a women’s conference at Columbia. She’ll go and take the kids for a visit with their grandparents. In the meantime, you’ll go back to Ohio and schedule meetings with as many of your constituents as possible. You’ll do town halls and pancake breakfasts as if you’re running for office. You’ll answer every question that comes your way until the press is tired of talking about it or until some other story splashes across the headlines.”
“But I thought you didn’t want me talking to the press anymore?”
“I changed my mind. We’re going to divide and conquer. You two will represent like the power couple you are, and since you’ll be in two different places, the press will be spread thin. Every time you get a question about the case, you’ll give your stock answer and pivot to a pressing issue, like healthcare or the economy. Harry will work with you on exactly what you can and cannot say about the pending case. You’ll be so visible, the press will get sick of you. There’s nothing they like more than a slammed door because it means there’s something to dig for. You and Jeanine are going to show them everything and nothing all at once.”
“Are you going to be in Ohio with me or New York with her?”
Rook held back an audible sigh. “Neither. You don’t need a big gun if you don’t have to guard against big damage. Having me visible is a liability. Harry will be dedicated to whatever you need. Trust me, it won’t be long before the press is sick of you.”
Rook added a few more encouraging words to their pep talk and clicked off the line. A few miles at a fast clip on the treadmill provided a welcome release, and by seven thirty, she’d showered and settled in to eat breakfast and watch the morning news. She’d taken her first bite of grapefruit when her phone buzzed with a text.
Morning. Hope it’s not too early to text.
She smiled at Zoey’s message with its spelled out words and punctuation, and typed her reply. I’ve been up for hours. You?
Always. Hard habit to break. A few beats passed and then Zoey wrote: I was hoping to do that other interview offsite. What’s your schedule?
Available anytime after noon. Rook hesitated before hitting send, pondering whether she should include anyone else from her team in the interview of Donny Bloomfield. S
he reasoned with fewer people involved he’d be more likely to open up, but a small part of her nagged that she just didn’t want to share her time with Zoey. This case didn’t appear to be a big one, but the fact that it came from the White House elevated its importance, and normally she would have held a team meeting to discuss it before she’d ever met with Zoey. But she hadn’t and she didn’t want to now. Rationalizing that her team had a lot of other stuff going on right now and she wasn’t merely trying to spend time alone with Zoey, she sent the message and impatiently waited for Zoey’s reply. She didn’t have to wait long.
Perfect. Meet me at McNair at one.
* * *
Zoey sat on the hard plastic seat on the Metro train, focusing her energy on ignoring Dixon’s grating voice. He’d been talking for the last fifteen minutes about how he’d wanted to be deployed, but someone stateside was always in need of his skills, so he’d had to serve his country here at home. He seemed to be working very hard to keep his tone from being defensive, but it was pretty clear he was comparing his own experience against hers—overseas, in combat zones—and failing to measure up. After the first few minutes, Zoey had started concocting fantasies, the most appealing of which involved her pushing him through the doors at the next stop and waving gleefully as the train pulled away. Pipe dream.
Next her thoughts roamed to Rook and their dinner plans. She’d spent the morning wavering about her yes to dinner, and she’d come close to texting Rook to say she’d changed her mind. If she had she wouldn’t have to spend the entire day in eager anticipation. How was she supposed to concentrate on interviewing Donny Bloomfield when all she could think about was hanging out at Rook’s place pretending to be entirely focused on their work when she was incredibly distracted by the mystery of Rook’s public and personal personas?
The train lurched to a stop at Waterfront Station, and she stood too quickly, almost falling into Dixon.