War Party (A John Tall Wolf Novel Book 2)
Page 23
“I am, Madam Vice President.”
“Good, but the Secretary of the Interior, in consultation with the the president and me, has decided to restructure the BIA’s Office of Justice Services to allow for greater efficiency and flexibility.”
Marlene sat stone-faced and mute.
John was the one who felt a chill. “I beg your pardon, Madam Vice President. What kind of changes are you talking about?”
“For one, you’re no longer Special Agent Tall Wolf; you are Deputy Director Tall Wolf.”
John couldn’t help himself. He winced.
“Something the matter?” the vice president asked.
“I’m very flattered, Madam Vice President, but I’m not an administrator. I’m a field man.”
“Just what we have in mind. You’ll be the chief investigator. The only time you’d be called on to act in any other capacity would be if Director Flower Moon might need to step away from her desk again or should pursue other opportunities on a permanent basis.”
The light dawned. Nelda Freeland’s days of filling in for Marlene were over.
John nodded. “Yes, I suppose I could do that.”
Marlene looked as if she’d been paralyzed.
“As deputy director, you’ll also decide which of the pending cases at the Office of Justice Services need your personal attention,” the vice president said.
John bobbed his head. He liked that, too.
“And you’ll have full responsibility for deciding which of the recruits Director Flower Moon finds will be chosen to become special agents. Do you think you can do all that?”
“Yes, ma’am, I think I can.”
“Good. Madam Director, do you have any questions?”
“None,” Marlene said, having no desire to prolong her humiliation.
She turned to John and said, “Congratulations.”
But the look in her eyes promised only new and more dangerous confrontations.
“Are we done here, ma’am?” Marlene asked the vice president.
“You are. I’d like Deputy Director Tall Wolf to stay a minute.”
John wasn’t sure the vice president noticed, but he heard Coyote snarl as she left.
“Deputy Director DeWitt of the FBI recommended you for your promotion,” Jean Morrissey told John. “He said you would handle it well. I’m trusting him on that, though from what I’ve seen I have to agree.”
So, John thought, another powerful woman would be keeping her eye on him.
“DeWitt also said that anytime your workload at the BIA hits a lull your services should be made available to the FBI or other government agencies. Are you up for that?”
“I already help out at the Environmental Protection Agency,” John said.
“Yes, well, we’re thinking of a broader portfolio.”
“Wherever I’m needed, ma’am,” John told her.
“Good. There’s someone who has heard of your contribution to resolving our recent difficulties and would like to meet you.”
John’s scalp began to tingle and, instinctively, he came to his feet.
Jean Morrissey opened a door and the most famous woman in the world appeared.
“Madam President, it’s my pleasure to introduce you to John Tall Wolf, the new deputy director of the Office of Justice Services, Bureau of Indian Affairs.”
Patricia Darden Grant extended her hand and John took it.
The president said, “I like your Ray-Bans.”
— Chapter 36 —
Gallatoires Restaurant, New Orleans, Louisiana, Saturday, September 21st
John Tall Wolf and Rebecca Bramley sat at a table for four. Their two dinner guests would be arriving shortly. Rebecca sipped a glass of Lillet. John chose ginger ale as his aperitif.
They’d arrived in town the previous night and celebrated John’s promotion with Marcellus Darcy and Edmee LaBelle at the Krazy Korner. They listened to Dwayne Dopsie and the Zydeco Hellraisers. They talked and danced and laughed into the wee hours. Rebecca amused everyone with her Alberta accented French, laughing when they said she spoke French like a Texan.
John told the others what he’d recently heard from Ellie Booker. The publishing arm of WorldWide News had paid a seven-figure advance for Corey Price’s baseball memoir, Take the Extra Base. It told the story of a player who had all the talent needed to make the big leagues but kept setting himself back with injuries because his irrepressible nature forced him to try to stretch singles into doubles. Doubles into triples. Tearing up his hamstring.
Federal law prohibited convicted persons from profiting from their crimes, but Price’s book was about baseball not bank robbing, and he’d had interest in the book from a publisher before his role in the robberies was known. A judge said the deal could proceed.
With WorldWide’s investment in the book, the movie money grew exponentially.
Corey Price could have been a rich man when he got out of prison, but he settled for being affluent. His lawyer set up a trust giving each of his seven teammates an equal share. A decision that when made public would boost both book and movie ticket sales.
For no fee whatsoever, Price gave Ellie the exclusive insider’s story of the bank robberies.
Diminishing Louis Mercer’s opportunity to exploit his story to the vanishing point.
When John and Rebecca got back to the Renaissance Arts Hotel that night they were tired but still found the energy to make up for the time they’d spent apart.
Saturday night was planned to be a more refined affair.
Then John made the mistake of bringing up political speculation.
As to whom would succeed Patricia Darden Grant in office.
“You really think Jean Morrissey will run for president?” Rebecca asked.
“Of course, she will. That’s what politicians do. They take their oath and plan their next campaign. Where else can she go but the Oval Office?”
Rebecca bobbed her head and smiled. “I like her.”
“Sure, she played college ice hockey and she’s from Minnesota. She could be your cousin.”
“Will you introduce me? Will you be working out of Washington full time?”
John hadn’t thought of that. Wasn’t sure he liked the idea.
What was he going to do, though?
Say reservations weren’t the only place he wouldn’t work?
Rebecca asked, “When Jean becomes president, do you think she’ll have a bigger job for you?”
John told her, “The only way I’d take over the BIA would be if your PM made you ambassador to the United States.”
Rebecca slapped his back, laughed loudly and said, “Wouldn’t that be a hoot?”
There was no end of places in New Orleans where such behavior would fit right in.
Gallatoire’s, however, wasn’t one of them. Other diners glanced their way.
Their looks said John and Rebecca might be more at home in a honky-tonk.
Rebecca blushed and settled down. “Can’t take me anywhere.” Lowering her voice, she added, “Still, I’m really jazzed thinking about the future.”
Then, in a sense, the future arrived in the form of John’s parents.
Their disapproval of Rebecca wouldn’t be a deal-breaker.
But John was hoping for a warm and mutual embrace.
They greeted each other effusively, propriety be damned.
Ten minutes later, they were old friends.
Hayden and Serafina sat spellbound as John told them of his recent case.
They beamed when he said, “Rebecca was the Mountie who slapped the handcuffs on Lamar Dekker.”
As the first test of the perks of his new job, John had pulled the strings for that.
And it worked, giving him more of a thrill than he’d ever expected.
He decided in that moment he would have to be careful.
Drinking wasn’t the only bad habit that could bring a man down.
About the Author
Joseph Flynn has been publish
ed both traditionally — Signet Books, Bantam Books and Variance Publishing — and through his own imprint, Stray Dog Press, Inc. Both major media reviews and reader reviews have praised his work. Booklist said, “Flynn is an excellent storyteller.” The Chicago Tribune said, “Flynn [is] a master of high-octane plotting.” The most repeated reader comment is: Write faster, we want more.
Contact Joe at Hey Joe on his website: www.josephflynn.com
All of Joseph Flynn’s novels may be purchased online at amazon.com.
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