Rick looked at him. They both knew what he needed to do politically. No doubt Madeline had no idea McBain was here. She’d be mortified if she knew Clever was begging to get her on his ticket as lieutenant governor after she’d turned him down so many times. Nonetheless, she’d feel betrayed by Peter if he backed Thompson. He knew firsthand how little impact reason had in matters of betrayal.
“Marcus, I only said we’d talk about my endorsement. You know very well nothing was promised.” He paused to take a sip of his drink and drained the glass on impulse. He was definitely thinking on the fly now. He took a fortifying look at his father, quiet and observant in the corner. The old man had decided to play the supporting role today. After an acknowledging wink at the judge, who winked back, Peter set his glass down and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I think it would be unwise of me to endorse anyone at this juncture,” Peter said and turned to leave the room. A rush of words followed him, from McBain mostly, and from Thompson. And from Acer, who was shocked as hell. Peter smiled at that thought as he walked into the hall to head downstairs to his gym.
Until he heard Rick’s loud and clear words.
“It’s too late, PJD.” The finality in his tone told him more than the words. He stopped dead. He didn’t turn. He knew the answer, but he asked anyway.
“What do you mean, Rick?” He concentrated on regulating his breathing, doing an old mental exercise he’d learned to control the adrenaline.
Rick closed the door to the study behind him and they stood in the quiet semidarkness of the hall. Peter turned to face him.
“The word already went out to the troops. Your decision to back Marcus Thompson is being set up to go public as we speak. A press conference is being arranged. You can’t withdraw your decision to back Thompson or your reputation is toast with the party and your credibility is shit with the voters.” Rick’s voice was low, hoarse. Peter could hear the nervous edge, could see his Adam’s apple bounce unnaturally. Rick wasn’t normally what he’d call a brave man, but considering Peter had punched him out less than a week ago, Rick’s admission could be classified as downright courageous. And Rick knew it.
Peter watched the belligerent self-confidence slide from his face until he looked more like a guilty kid waiting for his ten lashes. Part of Peter was angry, but only a small corner. The rest of his mind was busy backtracking to where he took a wrong turn so he could somehow get out of this mess. If he was angry, it should be at himself for being too damn impulsive. There was a fine line between decisive and impulsive. This was what happened when you crossed it.
One thing was certain: he was a master at keeping his eye on the prize. In this case, that was the office of governor. Madeline would have to wait a minute. If he didn’t support Marcus Thompson right now it would be political suicide. And he was not suicidal—not yet.
Without a word to Rick, he shoved past the man and back through the door to the library. He felt like he was about to dive into icy cold water and the best way to do that was to brace himself and get it over with fast.
From behind him, Rick said, “You’re not betraying Madeline. You’re making a necessary compromise.” Rick had read his mind. Peter’s stomach turned.
After Acer dropped his drink on the floor, Peter knew Rick would mop it up—literally and figuratively. The judge would go home and give a report to his mother that he was behaving as to be expected. He knew he disappointed the old man, but the judge understood. Not that that made Peter feel any better. He shook his head as he headed back down the hall again to his gym. He knew better than to dwell on his decisions.
His mind raced too far and too fast as he stepped down the stairs. Time to quiet it down. The thing to do, to keep everything else from his mind, was to pump iron.
The last thing he expected to see as he stepped into his gym and flicked on the light was Sam dropping nimbly to the industrial tile floor of the basement room from the high casement window.
They looked each other in the eye as the room was illuminated and they stepped in at the same time. Neither of them appeared startled. And neither of them was pleased from the looks of things.
“What did you find out?” Peter watched Sam’s smile, slow and subtle. Most people wouldn’t have taken the expression as a smile, but Peter knew his friend.
“I went to the Berkshires. They paid the nurse well, and she’s giving interviews as part of the deal. I think she can be scared into spilling it. We’ve cracked tougher bats. Got to catch her before she disappears, though. All the signs are there for a quick exit.”
“She’s planning a trip, is she? She the one who stole the medical records and then forged them, or was there someone else helping them from the inside?” Peter asked as he approached.
“If I had to guess I’d say she’s the only one on the inside—but you know how I hate to guess about these things. We’ll need a more, shall we say, extensive investigation before we have enough details to move in.”
Peter nodded his head. He knew he would be in on it. He knew Acer would be in too.
“Rock? You in? We can do it without you—could be too risky for you…”
“No. I’m in. It’s a good risk to take. And I owe her this much.” He thought if he couldn’t redeem her reputation by endorsing her politically at least he could expose the fraud. It wouldn’t be in time to do her any good in this race, but at least she would be intact to run another day.
“Rick could probably spin it if we got caught. We’ll come out as heroes exposing the bad guys. After all, I’m a DA and there is a crime. I have some solid-enough connections out west to pull it off. This is the kind of fraud that needs to be brought into the open. We’ll sell it as a big bright feather for someone in law enforcement’s cap.” Peter spoke rapidly. Sam nodded.
He took a deep breath as he realized he’d have to involve Madeline too. She would have to be the one to talk to the nurse. It was her medical records and her reputation that had been compromised. And she was the only one who the nurse could not lie to.
It was going to be one hell of a conversation when he saw Madeline next.
“Mad’s in too. Rick is out. We may need Bill and Bob. Find them. Fill them in,” Peter said. He didn’t take his eyes from Sam’s. He wanted it understood that he was in charge—as he’d always been. Sam nodded and hoisted himself back up out the window the way he’d come in. The message had been received.
The operation was rolling.
Upstairs in the Study
“The hell you are! Are you out of your fucking mind?” Rick didn’t bother keeping his voice down in spite of the fact that there were still media people outside the house. Peter thought idly that he ought to look into soundproofing the place as he stood in front of his campaign manager, who was busy poking him in the chest as he yelled. He couldn’t blame Rick really. This had all been a shock. “Don’t worry. I’ll take you through it,” Peter said.
“Don’t worry? You have rocks in your head Rock man! Ever since these special ops gorillas showed up you’ve acted like some character out of an imitation spy movie. Get a grip on reality, for Christ’s sake.” Rick’s tone turned to pleading as he turned away from Peter.
“I understand your concern. But it’ll all be legitimate. I’m in contact with the district attorney out west as we speak. It’ll be more like a sting operation than a black op,” he said. Rick was not appeased. Peter decided to plead. He needed his friend on board. “Look, I know it’s not a priority you necessarily agree with, but we both know it’s best for our long-term goals, if not the immediate one, to have Madeline Grace intact and with us.” Peter realized the words were true as he spoke them. He was speaking without thinking again, speaking from his heart. It was time. He stepped toward Rick and put a hand on Rick’s shoulder to prompt his friend to turn and look at him again.
“She’s not a throwaway, Rick.”
“I was afraid of that. For the record, I think she’s a lot more trouble than she’s worth,” Rick said.
He still scowled, but the man always knew when he was defeated. Maybe that was because he was always defeated by Peter whenever they argued. Rick played a great second fiddle.
“You know she’s worth more than gold—to both of us.” Peter patted his friend on the back and nodded to Acer, who was no longer confused since they started talking his language. He was not surprised to hear about Sam’s appearance, though Rick had accused Peter of hallucinating the whole thing.
Peter thought it would be good to have Bill and Bob back on close duty. They could protect him from his friends while his friends protected him from his enemies.
Chapter 19
“I’m going to ask Peter to do a press conference with me and publicly endorse me for lieutenant governor,” Madeline announced as she came to a sudden stop in her pacing in front of the group.
They were all seated in the living room suite of her hotel HQ.
“Once he endorses me, per our agreement, I would politely decline the generous offer and confirm that I’m staying in the race. We say we’re planning to bring the perpetrator of this fraud to justice. Peter will agree to have his assistant DA pursue investigation of the crime.” She finished her announcement and they all remained silent.
This week had been hard on the group. She was exhausted too. This afternoon she even fell asleep at her computer. That never happened. But she was no quitter, she reminded herself, and she was really getting mad at the injustice. They’d put the true story out to the media to no avail. The only angle that played was the betrayal. It was a case of the media flies being irresistibly drawn to the dead carcass of a fatal scandal.
There was no known cure.
But Madeline would be damned if she didn’t keep trying to come up with one—literally. Morty had made little progress. Either the mayor had nothing to do with it or he did it for free. They hadn’t given up that angle yet, because they had a few more names to track down now. The mayor’s daughter, for instance. Theresa was busy giving interviews to the press on what she thought of the entire matter. Which was odd, Madeline thought.
“He won’t do it,” Sarah fairly shouted and got everyone’s attention. She stood, and Madeline sat and paid particular attention. Her friend’s odd intensity had been escalating as of late.
“Why would he commit political suicide to help you salvage your tattered reputation?” Sarah spat the words at her. Valerie was about to retort and Madeline intervened, not because she thought she would convince Sarah of anything, but for the benefit of the rest of the group.
“Because he knows none of it’s true. I think he will help me because he needs to undo the injustice that has been perpetrated. His need to right the wrong will be stronger than the fear of the risk involved. He’ll know he can overcome it and save me—from myself.” She smiled. “He’s always wanted to save me from myself.” The discomfort she felt at that notion had lessened to an alarmingly small degree over the course of this week.
“Nice speech, but I think I’m right this time.” Sarah’s intensity had dissolved into a strange and more disquieting lack of countenance. “And to quote someone I admire very much, ‘Sometimes I hate it when I’m right.’” Sarah spun around and walked to a corner of the room. The uncharacteristic erectness of her spine lent finality to her move. Like her back, so was her position carved in stone.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Val shot at Sarah’s stone-like back as she reached the wall. Sarah turned slightly as if to respond. Madeline put up her hand in a stop signal and then placed it gently on Val’s arm to placate. She sent her warmest smile to Sarah’s odd countenance. Sarah did not look sad or angry or upset in any way, only resolute like a robot programmed and powerless to change her own mission. Sarah walked to a chair, thudded down into the seat, covered her eyes and sobbed.
Madeline sighed. There was something wrong here. Even for Sarah and even considering the stressful circumstances, Sarah’s behavior was off. She would have to dwell on that later. The primaries were only four days away.
Val went over and patted Sarah’s back. Sarah never looked up. Val turned to her.
“It’s a good plan. I think you’re right. After all, even Sarah admitted you usually are.” Valerie smiled at her and they all nodded in agreement, but Madeline could tell her troops were uneasy. So was she.
“How are you going to play this? He’d be going out on a limb just to go after the phantom perpetrators of an alleged fraud, let alone endorse you publicly as lieutenant governor. And don’t you think he might feel used?” Jon asked without accusation, but more to measure her mind-set, she thought.
“I’ve just been squashed like a bug. That’s the exact time when I need my friends. The only hope I have now is to retain some legitimacy to have another chance at it, and PJD’s support seems to be the only viable way. We’ll see if I can count on PJD as a friend.”
“Even though he’s your political enemy?” Jon asked.
“Ironic isn’t it?” Her words felt heavy. The others nodded at her, looking resigned. It felt very compromising, but she’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit she felt relief also. It should feel all wrong to be asking for his help, but it didn’t.
“How do we approach him?” Jon asked.
“I’ll pay him a visit tonight. That’ll give us a fresh start in the morning.” Madeline smiled and wanted to instill her own confidence in all of them.
“But if you go there it’ll cause a ridiculous media frenzy. The buzz will be so loud you’ll swear you were inside a buzz saw,” Morty said, looking proud of his metaphor as a latecomer in the game they all played.
The fax machine buzzed to life then, as if on cue. They all laughed and Madeline felt some of the tension seep from the room. Jonathan went to retrieve the paper.
“Don’t worry, Mort, it’ll be perfect.” She was pacing again. “Having all the media there will save us the time and trouble of calling a press conference. We’ll make the announcement right from Peter’s front steps. We’ll stand together and Peter will say that he’s standing behind me and if I want to run as his lieutenant governor, he’d be honored to have me. Then he’ll say he plans to prosecute those who stole the medical records and altered the documents.”
She stopped in front of Jonathan where he stood studying the fax as if it were long and complicated. She saw that it was only two lines. Without looking up he held out the fax to her with a shaky hand.
Madeline’s stomach pitched as she took the piece of paper. Before she even read it she felt the now familiar bout of dread coming on. But she was a quick learner, and so she clenched her guts and steeled herself. She waited for Jonathan to look up at her in the silent room before she looked at the fax. The tear in the corner of his eye drew her compassion. She touched his arm and gave him a steely, knowing smile to reassure him.
“What does it say?” Val broke the silence, but a new, tighter tension in the room had taken over. Madeline read it in an instant and put it aside. No need to dwell on it. She had already known what it would say when she saw the letterhead. It was from Peter’s campaign headquarters.
She looked up at them all, clamping down on her need to sob. She was finished with the self-pity.
“Peter announced his endorsement for lieutenant governor today. He’s endorsing Marcus Thompson.”
Mort reached for the TV remote and clicked on the news. Val’s jaw trembled.
The voice of the newscaster buzzed with the excitement of a fresh story. “On the political front today, frontrunner in the race for governor, Peter John Douglas, has announced he is endorsing Marcus Thompson for his lieutenant governor. Experts say this last-minute endorsement is a smart political move to distance himself from his former lover and previous frontrunner for the spot as his lieutenant governor, the now disgraced Madeline Grace…”
They all sat transfixed. Madeline sat on the arm of the nearest chair, shaking her head. “I thought I hated it when I was right sometimes, but I have to tell you”—she paused and looked around at the
ir stunned faces—“I can honestly say that I hate it much, much more when I’m wrong.”
Chapter 20
The TV news buzzed in the background. Madeline itched to jump up and turn it off, but she felt paralyzed. She really wished someone else would do it.
“The only thing we can do to salvage your reputation now is to expose the nurse as a fraud.” Jon stood, valiantly trying to take Clever’s place. Too bad he was right. She pushed her mind back into gear. If she didn’t think fast she’d never keep ahead of the tide of her emotions.
“There’s only three weeks till the election. After that the spotlight will be gone and the last picture of me that will play in everyone’s mind is that of a woman who betrayed her lover for political ambition.” No matter how much she fought it, the question of how close to the truth that came occupied her mind.
She finally had to admit it wasn’t true, but it wasn’t entirely false either. She betrayed herself, not Peter.
“I say we let sleeping dogs lie and save it for another time. They’ll forget. You’ll write another book and come back later and people will take a fresh look,” Sarah said.
What? That sounded all wrong. It was a 180-degree turnaround in attitude, and Madeline had never heard that pleading quality to Sarah’s voice before. She looked at Val. Val knitted her brows.
Now she really wished Clever hadn’t left. Morty stood and turned off the TV. Mad could use a fresh outlook. He was as close as she was going to get.
“Are you suggesting I withdraw from the election?” she asked Sarah with a calm voice and her arms crossed, leaving no doubt as to her opinion of that move.
“No. No. You maintain your story about the miscarriage. Don’t get into any pissing contests. Maintain your dignity and let the chips fall where they may.”
“She’ll look like an idiot trying to maintain that she had a miscarriage in the face of documentation of an abortion,” Jon said. His voice was distressed. “But that’s nothing. They have a live witness. She’ll look absolutely pathetic calling the nurse a liar with nothing and no one to back her. Not even PJD.”
The Scotland Yard Exchange Series Page 26