Angelica smiled kindly as she pulled out her press badge and driver’s license. “I’m here to see House Ways and Means Committee Chairman, John Kaye.”
“Is he expecting you, ma’am?”
“Angelica responded confidently. “Yes, he is… I’m Angelica Bradley with the Liberator Magazine.”
“Just one moment, please.” The office took her identification and stepped into the booth. Angelica watched as heavily armed security officers with dogs and mirrors inspected her car.
After a few moments, the officer stepped out and handed her license and press badge back to her. “Okay, that way. Have a nice day!” The security officer pointed her in the direction of the administrative offices. Angelica hadn’t been worried about getting through security. She was in their system – as a member of the White House Correspondents’ Association, she frequently attended meetings and the annual dinners. The trick would be getting past Kaye’s secretary.
Inside, Angelica followed the directory to John Kaye’s office, passing congressmen, lobbyists, and other officials along the way. Finally finding his office, she opened the door and was immediately face-to-face with his secretary, sitting at an ornate mahogany desk facing the door. The woman looked up, “Ms. Bradley?”
Angelica nodded. “Yes.”
“He’ll see you,” the secretary said. “Go on in.”
Angelica took a subtle breath, walked over, and opened the door. “This was too easy,” she thought.
“Well, hello, Ms. Bradley! How may I help you?” John Kaye stood up from his desk. “Please have a seat.” He pointed to the brown leather, wingback chair in front of his desk. John Kaye was younger than she had expected. She had only seen him briefly, from a distance, once before. He appeared to be in his mid-forties, dark-brown hair, an average build with somewhat of a normal square face. His thick neck bulged out around his white, pressed shirt, tucked neatly under a navy blue suit that looked like it was perfectly hand-tailored for him. His voice was deep and assertive, giving Angelica the impression that he wanted to appear older.
Angelica looked him straight in the eyes. “Chairman Kaye, I have a few questions regarding your connection to the billionaire, Francis Giano,” Angelica stated confidently, awaiting his response.
John Kaye shifted in his chair and eyed Angelica speculatively. “Francis Giano, huh… Now what sort of question would you have for me in regards to him?” He smirked while maintaining eye contact.
Angelica felt a lump in her throat. She immediately thought, “Another asshole to deal with… great.” She knew it wasn’t going to be easy, just walking in on him like this, it never was. John Kaye had a forceful and downright dominating persona, and he was trying to intimidate her. Remembering what got her where she was in her career, thus far, she continued. “Let’s not pretend, sir. You’ve been seen with Mr. Giano at the Newton Air Force Base. I’ll just cut to the chase because I have had a long two days – What is going on at the aerospace facility?”
The chairman paused and then spoke very calmly. “Oh yes,” he said, “the aerospace facility. I‘ve heard mention of it but, dear – I know nothing about it. As for the Newton Air Force Base, I met him there briefly through some colleagues a while back… Afraid I can’t help you, Ms. Bradley. You’re barking up the wrong tree.” John Kaye smirked.
Angelica slid up closer in her chair. “I see how this is going to be. With all due respect, Chairman Kaye, I’ve dealt with your kind throughout my entire career here in D.C. and you don’t intimidate me. You can pretend all you like, but I will get to the bottom of what you men are up to, and when I do people will read about it, and…”
The Chairman cut her off, “Look here, Ms. Bradley, you come barging into my office unannounced, and I give you the courtesy of an impromptu meeting because I respect your magazine, but you aren’t being very polite. No small talk, no questions about the First Lady’s outlandish dress last night at the dinner with the Iranian ambassador… You are obviously tougher than I gave your pretty face credit for, but I suggest you get back to chasing Senator’s with a taste for the exotic because you are in way over your head on this one, honey.”
Angelica relentlessly continued… “Can I quote you on that?” she asked sarcastically. “As I understand it, you have a great deal of power. The power to influence tax laws and generate revenue for the federal government as you see fit, within Constitutional parameters, of course. Is that correct, sir?”
John Kaye tilted his head. “Yes, that is correct. Where is this going, Ms. Bradley?”
“Are you using tax payer’s money on the aerospace facility, Mr. Chairman? You know -- the one that Mr. Giano is involved with?”
“That facility is privately funded.” John Kaye’s lips tightened after his response.
Angelica noticed his face was turning a shade of scarlet. He appeared flustered.
“Ms. Bradley, I will not be answering anymore questions today.”
Angelica didn’t let up, and kept at him. “What is your involvement with Francis Giano?” Angelica sat sturdy, staring at him, wishing she could smack the condescending grin off his face.
“Do I need to escort you out?” he asked, appearing irritated.
Angelica ignored his question. “Are there ETs involved?” John Kaye laughed. “I find this incredibly entertaining to watch you come at me from all angles – ETs, now that is funny! Is Jesse Ventura waiting outside to tackle me?”
Angelica knew who she was dealing with. John Kaye held one of the most powerful positions in government. The Chairman of the House Ways and Means Committee was considered by many to be the most powerful and influential position by the people in Congress. John Kaye controlled the finances in regards to how much of the country operated. He was in a respected and sought after position with a great deal of power. Angelica had done her research, and wasn’t naïve. She knew she couldn’t overpower him, but perhaps she could cause him to slip up. “Please answer my question, Chairman. What is your involvement with the billionaire, Francis Giano?”
“Ms. Bradley, you can either leave peacefully or I will have you escorted out,” John Kay said as he sat back in his chair like a cat hiding a canary.
Angelica reluctantly stood up and smirked. She turned and walked toward the door, and right before opening it, she looked back around. “I don’t believe you were what our founding fathers had in mind,” she spoke softly, sarcastically.
John Kaye’s eyes were piercing. “Ms. Bradley, the United States Constitution arose from the necessity to create a new government, rather than fix an inadequate existing one. We are in a new era and times are changing in ways… well, Ms. Bradley this conversation is over. Good day.” he said as he stood up from his chair.
Angelica turned around. “Really… how so?”
John Kaye chuckled sarcastically. “Ms. Bradley, you just be careful now about turning over too many rocks -- never know what you’ll find underneath one of them. Things that like damp, dark spaces can be dangerous when…” His words were unsettling and they were clearly threatening.
Angelica’s scalp prickled as the hair on her arms stood on end. “Can I quote you on that, sir?”
John Kaye narrowed his eyes and smirked. Angelica smiled. “I suggest you do the same. Sometimes things that like damp, dark spaces have great difficulty surviving when they are forced into the light.” Angelica smirked. John Kaye stiffened.
“Look, Mr. Chairman, a friend of mine was murdered in Elberton, Montana, right in the shadow of Newton’s Air Force Base. My laptop was stolen. In the last few days I have been followed all the way from Denver to the parking lot of my magazine. If any of this can be traced back to even a semblance of what you are embroiled in, I promise you I will make it my life’s mission to see that you personally hand deliver your resignation to the President. I won’t be intimidated. Not by you… Not by anyone! Good day, sir,” Angelica stated, her muscles tight, before disappearing, leaving the door open behind her.
John Kaye instinctuall
y yelled out… “You just be careful, Ms. Bradley,” before he sat down, leaned back in his overstuffed leather chair and rubbed his thumb and index finger across his top lip.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Angelica shut her car door and slumped back, raising her hand to her forehead and letting out a sigh. “Asshole!” she shouted. She opened her purse and found her cell phone. There was a missed text from Gail, along with two new voicemails.
Gail was short and to-the-point. “How’d it go with Kaye? You should stay the night at my place to be safe!”
Angelica responded to her text, “Good idea, thanks! I’ll fill you in tonight. Need to stop at my place and grab a bag first.”
Angelica started the engine and pulled out while listening to her voicemail. The first was from Dr. Goolrick… “Hello Angelica, this is Walter Goolrick. My flight lands at nine in the morning. My colleague is expecting us. Meet me inside the Regents Hall building at the Georgetown University Campus at eleven o’clock in the morning. Hope this message finds you well my dear.” Angelica nodded to the security guard at the gate as she drove past.
The next message was from Dr. Marc Bishop. “Hi Angelica, Marc Bishop… Have everything arranged. Can you leave tomorrow afternoon? Just let me know. Thanks.”
Angelica called Dr. Bishop back immediately and got him on the second ring, “Hi Marc, Just got your message. There’s a slight problem, I have a meeting in the morning… I won’t be able to make an afternoon flight unless it’s late in the afternoon.”
“I see, well, I suspected it might be inconvenient. There is another flight out. Could you leave around six o’clock tomorrow evening?”
Angelica was glancing around while driving back toward her townhouse. “That would be better. What time do I need to be at the airport?”
“Meet outside of United at five tomorrow evening. I’ll make the reservations now. I’ll try to upgrade us to first class. If not, I’ll buy you a Scotch in coach,” his tone playful.
“Okay, perfect!” Angelica said as she nervously looked out of her rearview mirror.
“The aerospace facility is right outside of Vegas. Is there somewhere you prefer to stay?” he asked.
“Oh, let’s see. You know, I’m not that picky,” Angelica said sarcastically, “but I do like the newer, more modern hotels when I stay in Vegas… How about the Cosmopolitan? I’ve never stayed there, and I’m sure it will be crowded with people,” Angelica finished, feeling that would make her feel safer.
“Works for me!” he said enthusiastically.
“And Marc, The magazine will take care of the cost for my room and flight, just keep the receipt. Thank you for doing this – going with me and making the flight arrangements!”
“Angelica, no, thank you for letting me tag along! See you tomorrow!”
Angelica passed the Bistro a block from her townhouse. She looked over at the very spot where she had stood with Michael earlier in the day while they were waiting for his cab. Angelica remembered the firmness of his hand behind her neck as it caressed her. It felt protective and strong. She wondered where he was at that moment. God only knew how much she needed him, she thought. Angelica suspected he was already at his loft in Midtown, Manhattan, getting ready for dinner, and she felt a tingling pinch in her chest.
Angelica pulled up to the curb outside her townhouse and hurried up the steps, as she glanced around nervously at her surroundings. After opening the front door, she immediately went through the kitchen, and into the butler pantry to pour a small glass of single malt Scotch. Taking a single ice cube from the freezer, she dropped it in, hearing the familiar crackling sound as the cold cube met the warm golden brown liquid. Angelica took a couple sips. “Wow, what a day!” she blurted. She set the glass down and went upstairs to pack, in case she had to head straight to the airport after finishing with Dr. Goolrick.
Angelica noticed Michael’s white undershirt, left behind on the upholstered white chair in the corner. She recalled the details of their sensual love-making the night before. How it had started in the chair as he sat down to slip off his shoes. Angelica had slipped off her clothes, then walked over and gently ran her hand through his thick black hair, sliding her hand down and gliding her fingers along the curve of his broad shoulder, watching him shiver slightly. Michael caressed her thigh and pulled her to his lips, kissing her with soft pressure by pushing his lips firmly on her skin along her thigh.
The image of Michael’s warm tongue as it slid up her thigh to meet her moist petals of flesh played through her mind. Angelica put her fingers to her slightly open mouth and felt her warm breath, as she felt another sudden flutter in her stomach. She missed him. Her body began to heat up. Angelica pressed at her lips with her fingers as she remembered Michael’s lips release from the wetness between her thighs as he lifted her up onto the bed.
Suddenly, there was the sound of a car horn outside her window. Angelica hurried over and peered out. Startled back into the present moment by the abrupt noise, she turned her attention to her bag in the corner, letting the image of the evening with Michael fade away.
Chapter Fifty
Well over her price range by several million, but Angelica still loved Georgetown. She enjoyed visiting with Gail over lunch and shopping on an occasional Sunday afternoon at the upscale restaurants and boutiques along the cobblestone streets. Gail was like an older sister or even at times like a mother to Angelica. Since Angelica lived far from her mother in Asheville, and had no siblings or immediate family, she considered Gail an ideal substitute.
Gail lived in a two hundred year-old restored white house with black shutters, close to the Potomac River and the O & C Canal. With a passion for gardening, Gail spent most of her free time planting flowers and creating beautiful English inspired landscapes. Gail had created a garden with rows of boxwood’s along mossy cobblestone pathways leading to the fountain in the middle of her backyard, bordered by dark, crisp green hostas… where she and Angelica spent many evenings.
Angelica enjoyed spending time with Gail at her home in Georgetown, especially in the spring and summer when they could relax in the café style furniture with overstuffed cream cushions, under the veranda trellis covered with delicate soft pink roses.
Gail was the perfect host, lighting candles and sitting out tapas as snacks. An elegant and sophisticated woman in her late forties. Gail had undergone a few facelifts and although she looked flawless, it was evident she was slightly older than she would like you to believe.
They had relaxed many evenings into the late hours of the night talking about politics, men, and design… and even on a rare occasion, after too many glasses of wine, Gail would nostalgically speak of her husband who had passed away of a heart attack eleven years prior. However, those conversations about the love of her life were short. Gail was never able to hold the tears back long enough from the deep emotions still lingering under the surface. Angelica remembered how Gail wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, choked up, and abruptly stopped the conversation.
Gail had never remarried and Angelica suspected she never would. After all, she said she was committed to her career, and that was consuming enough to fill the void left by the loss of her best friend and lover.
Angelica pulled up, grabbing her bags she stepped out of her banged up BMW. Gail’s golden retriever was lounging on the perfectly manicured lawn. Theo saw Angelica and wagged his tail in excitement.
“Well, hello there Theo!” Angelica announced.
“Hey you! Look at your car! Whoa!” Gail was wearing gardening gloves, standing beside the flowerbed along the front walkway. She appeared shocked.
“Hey! Yeah, I know… lovely isn’t it? Aw, hey Theo!” Angelica leaned down and patted his head after he had slowly made his way over to her. “How are you, buddy?”
Angelica glanced up. “Theo’s happy to see me!”
“Come on in… I’ll open up some wine!” Gail said, as she took off her gloves and tossed then on her tan and hunter green garden
wagon.
Angelica stepped in and passed by Gail smelling the lilac scent of her perfume. Gail looked around outside suspiciously before closing the front door.
Angelica stepped into the foyer between the grand entertaining rooms, with arched openings. The house was enormous. A historical home, it had thirteen-foot ceilings and each room had a wood burning fireplace, maintaining its original architectural details. Extravagant crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling in every room, making the home comfortable as well as elegantly decorated. Gail certainly wasn’t cheap and spared no expense overstocking it with furnishing. She had a preference for alabaster lamps – and she had several.
Gail looked over at Angelica and smiled. “You can sleep in your usual room. I just put fresh sheets on the bed for you.”
“How sweet! You didn’t have to go to the trouble, Gail.”
“Don’t be a silly girl! Come, let’s have some wine!” Gail turned and walked down the hall toward the kitchen.
Angelica left her travel bag by the staircase and followed Gail down the long hall.
Gail’s kitchen was bright and airy with several tall narrow windows to take in the reconstructed replica of the gardens at Colonial Williamsburg’s Governor’s Palace. The house was surrounded with old concrete ornaments, shrubbery and flowers in soft shades of light pink and white.
Gail’s decorating style was no doubt extravagant; she had even installed a large crystal chandelier above the island in the kitchen. Like the rest of the rooms, the kitchen also had a wood burning fireplace.
Fresh flowers were placed throughout, a tradition Gail continued after her husband had died. He was a hopeless romantic. Gail had shared the sweet details with Angelica on many occasions, over wine, telling her once of how he would get up in the mornings and cut fresh bouquets from the rose bushes surrounding the house. When she would come down in the mornings for coffee, the house was filled with the lovely fragrance of roses. He would glance up from his paper and smile at her.
The Bovine Connection Page 26