Hearts in the Crosshairs

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Hearts in the Crosshairs Page 10

by Susan Page Davis


  As for Carl, Dave had seen a tendency in him to hog the glory for the unit’s successes, but accept none of the blame for their lack of results. Only a few days ago, Wilson had called Dave into his office and asked him some hard questions about the investigation. The lieutenant’s probing had prompted Dave to hope Wilson would remove Carl from the lead position in the investigation. So far he hadn’t hinted at such a course.

  But Dave was still the one briefing the governor twice a week. He’d gotten the assignment by default that first day—the two more senior investigating officers had gone off duty before the governor was free for a meeting. Somehow, he’d hung on to the duty. He hadn’t asked why, for fear the responsibility would be passed to Carl and he would no longer see Jillian regularly.

  Those briefings were Dave’s only contact with her. He didn’t want to lose that. He couldn’t.

  Jillian both loved and hated public hearings. They were a good way to get information to and from the people. Anyone could attend and ask questions of the lawmakers before they passed new legislation. However, when a controversial topic drew a large crowd and the question-and-answer time got out of hand, a hearing could turn into a free-for-all.

  The bill under consideration today, which would fund large-scale alternative energy studies, threatened to be one of the noisy ones, where extra security was needed.

  “I’m not sure you should go in there,” Andrew Browne said Friday morning in her office. “There’s a big crowd downstairs, and we’ve moved them to a larger room. The chairman is having a hard time quieting them down.”

  “It’s a subject everyone has an opinion about,” Jillian noted. “But it’s also one I campaigned on vigorously. I promised my constituents that we’d take a fair look at all the options. I owe it to them to show up and confirm that we’ll go forward with these studies. Maine needs to become more energy independent, and I’m not giving up on this because some people disagree with me.”

  “All right, if you insist.”

  “Andrew, I’m not trying to make your job more difficult. However, I need to live up to my promises.”

  “I understand.”

  They stepped into the outer office. Lettie stood and walked over to her.

  “Chin up, my dear. Stick to what you’ve planned to say, and you’ll be fine.”

  A uniformed officer joined them as they left the office. He took up a position outside the hearing room. Detective Stephanie Drake was waiting to accompany Jillian and Andrew inside.

  A hush fell over the room as the Utilities and Energy Committee’s chairman, Louis Moore, introduced her. Jillian was glad he would moderate the meeting. He always kept things moving and knew procedure inside out. She tried to project confidence as she strode to the lectern. Moore stood back, holding his ceremonial gavel with both hands.

  “Welcome, Governor.”

  “Thank you, Senator Moore.” Jillian turned to face the audience and was glad to see Dave slip in the side door halfway back. His presence always calmed her. “Thank you all for turning out on such a brutally cold day.”

  A slight ripple of laughter spread through the first few rows. She didn’t see many faces she recognized, other than the small contingent from the press, a couple of lobbyists and the committee members.

  She launched into her prepared statement about the need for low-cost and environmentally friendly energy.

  “In addition, I want to see the exploration for oil go ahead in Maine waters,” she concluded. “The required safety measures would make this doable, without the threat of disaster. We want to contain our energy costs and bring more jobs to Maine.”

  Sporadic clapping began, but a murmuring overrode it. Jillian moved aside and let Moore speak into the microphone.

  “The governor has graciously agreed to take a few questions. Her tight schedule won’t allow more, so keep your queries brief.” He called on a reporter from the local newspaper, the Kennebec Journal.

  “Governor, would you advocate the return of nuclear power plants to Maine if the federal government approved it?” the woman asked.

  “I don’t see this as an option any time in the near future, so it’s not high on my list of energy alternatives,” Jillian explained. “As you know, the Maine Yankee plant closed in 1996, and we haven’t had a nuclear energy presence in Maine since. Other sources of energy are much less expensive and less controversial, although nuclear plants are safer now than they were in the past. If the economic situation changed and the option arose, I would ask the people of Maine whether or not they wanted to go that route again.”

  She glanced at Dave, but he wasn’t watching her. Instead, he was watching the crowd. Jillian cast aside her mild disappointment. He was doing his job, and looking at her wouldn’t keep her safe.

  The moderator called on a man Jillian didn’t recognize, but he carried a notebook and wore a sport jacket and tie, which led her to assume he was a journalist.

  “Governor, what makes you think drilling for oil in the Gulf of Maine won’t ruin our ecosystem?”

  The murmuring swelled. Jillian couldn’t tell if the crowd disliked his question or her stance on the issue.

  Moore leaned toward the microphone. “Folks, let’s settle down and let the governor speak, please.”

  She looked out over the packed room. At least two hundred people had squeezed in, and the air felt close. Everyone waited for her answer. “As I’ve said before, I’m in favor of exploring any economically viable sources of energy. I’ve done a great deal of research on this topic, and I’ve talked to people who are experts in petroleum production. I’ve also consulted the governors of Texas, Alaska and other oil-producing states in order to educate myself on this issue.”

  The people again began to talk among themselves. Jillian waited for the buzz to subside, but it didn’t. Once again, Moore asked the audience to give her the floor.

  Jillian pulled in a deep breath. “We need to be sure that anything we do to help our economy won’t endanger the fragile ecosystem in the gulf. Not only—”

  A man at the back of the room shouted, “So, Governor, you want to ruin our fishing and kill our tourism?”

  Jillian scanned the faces, but couldn’t pick out the heckler. She saw Dave take several steps in the direction of the voice.

  “On the contrary,” she said firmly into the microphone. “I want to make sure we don’t do that. I have solid plans for developing renewable energy sources while we investigate this further. We want to be sure a project this big is truly good for Maine before we put a lot of money into it.”

  “You sound like a bureaucrat, lady! You’ve sold out to Washington.”

  Jillian’s heart raced and she felt her face flush. She clenched her teeth and zeroed in on the man who had shouted. Dave and two other security officers moved toward him through the crowd.

  As the officers took hold of the man’s arms and turned him toward the door, she forced herself to smile. “Thank you for your input.”

  The people in the nearer rows chuckled.

  “Maybe now would be a good time to make your exit,” Louis Moore said quietly.

  She smiled at the audience. “Again, thank you for coming.”

  Stephanie was at Jillian’s elbow. A few steps away, Andrew was clearing a path for them toward the nearest door. The moderator tapped on the lectern with his gavel. “Folks, calm down or we’ll have to dismiss the hearing.”

  In her peripheral vision, Jillian caught a glimpse of Dave and the officers hustling the heckler down the hallway toward the exit. Andrew walked quickly ahead of her toward the elevator. Stephanie stayed a step behind her all the way.

  As they left the elevator and crossed the open area toward Jillian’s office, the guard swung the door open. She and the two detectives went inside, and he closed it behind them.

  Jillian looked at Andrew and Stephanie. “Whew.”

  Lettie rose and hurried toward her. “What happened? Bad crowd?”

  “It got a little dicey,” Andrew
admitted. “Governor, maybe you should sit down.”

  “Yes,” Lettie said. “Can I get you some tea?”

  “Thank you, that sounds good.” Jillian walked to her inner office and sank into the chair behind her desk. A public meeting had never shaken her so much. Was it just that one man, or did the whole roomful of people oppose her? Or were these jitters because of the shootings?

  Lettie entered a few minutes later with a cup of tea on a tray, followed by Stephanie.

  “Are you all right?” Lettie asked.

  Jillian nodded and reached for the china cup. “Yes. I shouldn’t have been surprised. I got a little taste of this during the campaign. But today…”

  Stephanie nodded. “That guy was a little scary.”

  “They’d all been through a metal detector, though,” Lettie added.

  “Yes.” Stephanie’s voice held some reservation, and Jillian looked up at her quickly.

  “Do you think the environmentalists planted that heckler?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. Our investigators will look into it, you can be sure.” Stephanie grinned. “Dave Hutchins and Carl Millbridge are probably duking it out right now over who gets to question that guy.”

  TWELVE

  Dave arrived at the Blaine House after dinner on Friday evening, almost three hours later than usual. Bob Caruthers met him on the stairs and directed him to the den next to Jillian’s office. Dave stopped in the doorway, surveying Jillian curled up in a recliner. Naomi sat on the sofa with a large bowl of popcorn on her lap. Both were watching television.

  “Oh, hello, Dave.” Jillian lowered the footrest of her chair.

  “Hello, ladies. Please don’t get up. It wasn’t my intention to interrupt you when you’re getting a little relaxation for a change.”

  Jillian shook her head and stood. “I know you’re late because you’re putting in overtime on my case.”

  Naomi kept her place on the couch, but smiled a greeting. Jillian led him to the connecting door and into her office. Dave noted that it was the first time he’d seen her in casual attire—black pants and a soft, powder-blue pullover. She looked great. But Dave thought she looked great no matter what she was wearing. He hoped today’s events hadn’t upset her too badly.

  They sat down and Jillian gave him a weak smile. “I’m told you’ve questioned the man who made such a ruckus at the hearing this afternoon.”

  “Yes. We let him cool his heels for a few hours while we did a detailed background check, and then let him go.”

  “Who is he?”

  Dave pulled out his pocket notebook. “Nathan Sedge. He’s worked on the Green Party campaign for the last three elections. He’s against oil drilling, wind turbines, river dams for electrical power stations—you name it, he hates it. And nuclear power plants are anathema to this guy.”

  “Okay. How does he expect us to heat our homes and get to work? I’m sure he didn’t walk to the hearing this afternoon.”

  “I think he wants someone else to bring oil and coal to the Maine-New Hampshire border and sell it to us there without stepping foot over the line. He envisions a pristine Maine in our future.”

  Jillian put a hand to her forehead and sighed. “Would you join me for coffee?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She picked up the phone and spoke into it quietly. As she hung up, her brow creased in thought. “Do you think this man is harmless?”

  “I think he intended to call attention to his cause today. In fact, he may even have gone to the hearing intending to get arrested.”

  Jillian gazed at him. “Stephanie thought he might have been planted by the anti-oil lobbyists.”

  “Sure. Anything’s possible. But you’re not really opposed to his cause. He tried to paint you as an out-and-out industrialist, but you’re not. My opinion is, he just wanted to stir up some media coverage.”

  Coffee and dessert arrived. As Beth set out plates of cheesecake, Jillian rose and moved to a chair near the small table.

  “I wonder if Naomi would like to join us.”

  “I believe she’s retired, ma’am,” Beth said.

  Jillian looked at the clock. “It’s later than I thought. After nine already.”

  Beth left the room a moment later, and Dave studied Jillian as she poured their coffee.

  “Are you tired?” he asked. “Don’t let me keep you up.”

  “No. I’d like to discuss this a bit more.”

  Her smile still enchanted him. If anything, weathering the trials of the past two months had enhanced her beauty. He imagined what it would be like to tell her so.

  “I’ve asked my mother if she’d like to come live with me here,” Jillian said.

  Dave accepted a mug and cradled it between his hands. “That’s great. You could spend more time together.”

  Jillian shook her head. “She said no. She doesn’t want to leave her house empty.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She turned mournful eyes on him. “She also says she doesn’t feel safe here.”

  Dave looked down, groping for a comforting reply.

  “In fact,” Jillian went on, “she’s pestering me to move home again. She thinks I have a better chance of living out my term if I don’t stay here.”

  Dave set his coffee on a coaster. “Is that what you think?”

  Jillian shook her head, clamping her mouth in a thin line. “No. It would just cause a lot of headaches for you and the rest of the EPU.”

  “You’re right. It would be harder to protect you at your house in Belgrade, and the traveling back and forth would present greater risks.”

  Her large, blue eyes held his gaze, and he wanted desperately to ease her mind.

  “We’ll find out who was behind the shootings. Maybe then Mrs. Clark will come and stay with you for a while, if not permanently.”

  She exhaled slowly. After a sip of her coffee, she glanced up at him and smiled. “Our chef makes fantastic cheesecake. You’ve got to try it.”

  He eyed the plate nearest him. “That looks positively decadent. Will you join me?”

  “Why not? It’s been a stressful day.”

  Dave nodded. “Comfort food. Dig in, Governor.”

  Her eyes flickered, but she reached for her dessert. She took a bite, closed her eyes, chewed and smiled. “Perfect. Let’s talk about something else.”

  “Not cheesecake?”

  She laughed, and the sound set a flood of warmth through him. “I meant, not the shootings or today’s hearing or Mom. What are you doing this weekend?”

  “Uh…I plan to go ice fishing with some buddies of mine.”

  “Hmm. That surprises me.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugged and smiled at him mysteriously as she cut another piece of the cheesecake with her fork.

  He popped a bite into his mouth. After a moment, he realized she wasn’t going to answer. Should he let her off the hook? He couldn’t resist—he had to know. “Why does it surprise you?” he asked again.

  “I don’t know. I guess I figured you for skiing or taking a date to the ice show in Portland.”

  “I’ve got a couple of friends who like to go ice fishing. One of them is handicapped. Getting out on a lake with his fishing gear makes him feel like he’s on a level playing field with the rest of us.” He took another bite.

  “Isn’t it late in the season?”

  “It’s been cold this winter. The ice is still good.”

  Jillian set her plate aside and reached for her mug. “How long have you known this friend?”

  “About five years.”

  “Since Iraq?”

  “You’re good.”

  “Just call me Sherlock.” She smiled, then sobered. “He was injured there?”

  Dave nodded. “He was in my unit. The only kid who got hurt.” He grimaced at the memory. “I thought we were heading home scot-free, but two weeks before our tour was up, a roadside bomb got him. He lost a leg at the knee.”

  “How great t
hat you kept in touch, and that you still do things with him.”

  Dave looked down at the half piece of cheesecake on his plate. Why should he be here now, eating dessert with a beautiful woman? It wasn’t chance that had brought him home safe, twice, when so many hadn’t made it. God had engineered every day of his life. But he still felt unworthy.

  “I try to keep up with the men who served under me.”

  “You were an officer.”

  “Sergeant.”

  She nodded gravely. “And now you’re serving here.”

  He smiled slightly. “I like my job.”

  “I guess this is a piece of cake compared to Iraq.”

  “Yeah. Cherry cheesecake.”

  They both laughed. He looked intently at her face, and she didn’t look away.

  “What are you doing this weekend?” he asked finally.

  “I’m going to my mom’s tomorrow.” And I’ll probably go visit a couple of my law partners. On Sunday morning, I’ll go to church here in Augusta, then meet with a group of Swedish businessmen.”

  “You have to work Sunday?”

  She raised her shoulders in a helpless shrug. “I’m governor 24/7, and that afternoon is the only time our schedules would allow. I’m entertaining them in the reception room downstairs to discuss exporting some Maine products to Sweden.”

  He wondered if so many plans in so many places on the weekend was a good idea, even with Stevenson gone. On the other hand, getting out of her routine and her usual territory—even with a couple of EPU officers in tow—might be good for Jillian.

  “If you weren’t busy, I’d invite you to go fishing with us.”

  “Ha. Sure you would.” Her laugh warmed him again—better than the coffee did.

  Dave was surprised when Bob Caruthers tapped on the door.

  “Yes, Bob?” Jillian smiled, remaining relaxed in her chair.

  “I just wanted to let you know I’m leaving, ma’am. Ryan and Penny will be with you overnight.”

  Dave looked at his watch, amazed at how much time had passed.

 

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