CHAPTER 19
AS THE YOUNG Secret Service agent carried the mail up from the box, his attention flickered to the package. There was no return address and the writing on the shipping label was done in block script. He relayed this information to his superiors and within thirty minutes a bomb squad truck lumbered down the street.
The explosives experts worked their magic and fortunately the neighborhood did not disappear in a nuclear fireball. Still, the contents were rather unusual.
A small bowl with the remains of hardened cereal and milk at the bottom.
A spoon with the same crusty residue.
And a sealed envelope containing a typed letter.
After the techs concluded there were no fingerprints or other useful traces on the box, envelope, or letter, the agents turned their attention to the contents of the letter.
Check the fingerprints on the bowl and spoon. You will find they belong to Willa Dutton. We have her. She is safe. We will contact you soon.
The box had been mailed to Pam Dutton’s sister’s house in Bethesda where John and Colleen Dutton were staying under Secret Service protection.
When the prints were run and compared with a set taken from Willa’s bedroom there was a clear match.
They immediately contacted the Postal Service in an attempt to track from where the package had come. The matter was given the highest priority. However, the closest they could narrow the target to was Dalton, a town in northern Georgia. At least that’s where the package had been processed.
Later that afternoon Sean and Michelle were contacted and told to come to the Treasury Department, which was located on the east side of the White House and had a statue of Alexander Hamilton out front. They were escorted down into the underground belly of the massive building where they entered a long tunnel that ran due west and connected with the White House next door. Sean had been down here before while pulling White House protection duty; however, it was a first for Michelle. As they passed by closed doorways along the long corridor, he whispered to her, “The stories I could tell about what went on in some of these rooms.”
“I see London, I see France,” Michelle murmured back.
The First Lady received them in her office in the East Wing. She had on black slacks, a pale blue sweater, and her black pumps lay underneath her desk. She looked far more tired than the last time they’d seen her.
Sean was surprised to see Aaron Betack hovering in the background. No, cowering was more like it, Sean assessed. The man didn’t look like he wanted to be there. Yet what the First Lady wanted, she usually got.
“These are the times I regret giving up smoking,” Jane said as she motioned them into chairs across from her.
“Weren’t you just on the campaign trail in Connecticut?” Sean asked.
She nodded absently. “I flew back early after they told me about the box. I asked Agent Betack to be here so he could answer any questions you might have on behalf of the Service.”
Sean and Michelle both looked at Betack, who didn’t appear remotely interested in telling them even what time it was. Yet he nodded and attempted a smile that came out as though he had really bad gas.
Jane said, “I have heard that the FBI has been somewhat less than cooperative with you. I trust that has been taken care of and that you have met with no resistance from any other agency?”
There was only one other agency really involved and it was represented by the big man standing behind her, his face reddening slightly with her words.
Sean said quickly, “Everyone’s been very cooperative. Particularly the Secret Service. It’s been a stressful time for everyone, but they’ve been there for us the whole way.”
“Excellent,” said Jane.
Betack stared at Sean for a long moment and then gave a slight nod, silently thanking Sean for the cover he’d just provided.
Jane Cox sat down behind her desk and took a few minutes to explain what had happened. Betack filled in the more technical parts on the box’s delivery and contents.
Michelle said, “So someone does have her. They say she’s safe and will contact us later.”
Jane said sharply, “We have no idea if she is really safe. She could be dead.”
“It’s troubling that they knew where to send the letter,” Sean said.
Betack nodded. “We’re theorizing that they might have researched the family and knew the aunt was local. Even if the kids weren’t staying there the box would have eventually reached us.”
“Or it could show the kidnappers have some inside info,” said Sean. He glanced sharply at Betack. “I’m not suggesting that’s coming from the Service, but there could be other leaks.”
Betack said, “You’re right. We’ll cover that end.”
“So what do we do now?” Jane wanted to know.
Sean said, “Can they determine where it was mailed from?”
Jane said, “Dalton, Georgia. At least that’s what the FBI director told me.”
Betack confirmed this with a nod.
“Okay, that’s something. If it was at a specific processing center then there’s a certain radius of postal pickups that are delivered there. That narrows the search down. It’ll require a lot of manpower but they can canvass the area.”
“FBI’s already on it,” said Betack.
Michelle said, “But if I’m the kidnapper I’ll know that and I’ll drive a long way from where I’m holding Willa to make the drop.”
Sean added, “Dalton is in northern Georgia. It’s in relatively easy driving distance from Tennessee, Alabama, and North and South Carolina.”
“Which makes it hard but not impossible,” noted Betack. “And it’s one of the few leads we have.”
Sean looked over to see Jane staring at a photo she held in her hands. She turned it around for them to see. It was a picture of Willa on a horse.
“She’d just turned six. She wanted a pony, of course. I guess all little kids do. Dan was still in the Senate back then. We took her to a little farm out near Purcellville in Virginia. She got right up on that animal and we almost couldn’t get her off. Most kids would’ve been scared to death.”
She slowly put the photo back down.
“A brave girl,” Sean said quietly.
Jane said pointedly, “She is brave and capable, but she’s still a little girl.”
“Does the FBI have any thoughts on motive?” asked Michelle.
“Not as far as I know.”
She looked at Betack, who merely shook his head.
“We talked to Tuck and went by his office.”
“Did you find anything useful?”
Sean squirmed slightly in his chair before glancing uneasily at Betack. “This might get personal.”
Betack looked at the First Lady. “I can leave, Mrs. Cox.”
She thought for a moment. “Fine. Thank you, Agent Betack. The president and I want to be made aware of any developments without delay.”
After Betack left she said, “What do you mean by personal, Sean?”
“Did Pam ever talk to you about any problems in the marriage?”
“Why do you ask that?” Jane said sharply.
“Just covering all the bases,” said Sean. “So was there anything?”
Jane sat back and made a steeple with her hands while she slowly nodded. “It was at the party at Camp David. We were talking about Tuck not being there. That he was away on business. It was really nothing. But—”
“But what?”
“It just seemed that she wanted to say something, but then didn’t. She made a casual comment about Tuck being Tuck. And that he’d be back the next day.” She looked between the pair. “What is it?”
Sean and Michelle had both snapped forward in their chairs. “Tuck was supposed to come back the day after the kidnapping happened?” Sean asked.
Jane looked unsure. “That’s right. I believe that’s what she said. But he was there the night it happened.” Jane leaned forward too. “What is going o
n?”
Sean glanced at Michelle. “Tuck might have been having an affair.”
Jane stood. “What?”
“You had no idea?”
“Of course not, because it’s not true. My brother would never do that. What proof do you have?”
“Enough to make us want to investigate it further.”
Jane sat back down. “This is… incredible.” She glanced up. “If you think he had an affair, you’re not implying that…”
“Jane, I can’t answer that question. At least not right now. We’ve only been on this thing for a short time. We’re doing the best we can.”
“And our priority has to be getting Willa back safe,” added Michelle.
“Of course that’s our goal. It’s the only reason I asked you to help.” Jane put a shaky hand up to her forehead.
Sean could easily read her mind. “When you start an investigation you really can never be sure where it’s going to lead. Sometimes the truth does hurt, Jane. Are you prepared for that?”
The First Lady placed a cool, rigid gaze on him.
“The truth is, at this point in my life nothing surprises me anymore. You just find Willa. And let the chips fall.”
All three turned when the door swung open. Sean and Michelle reflexively leapt to their feet as President Dan Cox strode into the room, winged by a pair of veteran Secret Service agents. He smiled and put out his hand.
Cox was about Michelle’s height, several inches shorter than Sean, but his shoulders were burly and his face, at age fifty, retained more vestiges of youth than it did the toll of middle age. That was somewhat remarkable considering his years under the unrelenting gaze of the world.
Sean and Michelle took turns shaking the man’s hand.
Jane said, “I’m surprised to see you.”
Cox said, “I canceled the rest of my appearances for today. My people weren’t thrilled, but the president does get a few perks. And when you’re up by twenty-five points in the polls and your opponent agrees with you more than he disagrees with you, a free day every once in a while is allowable. And even if I were behind in the race Willa’s safety comes first.”
Jane gave him a grateful smile. “I know you’ve always seen it that way.”
Cox walked over and gave his wife a peck on the cheek and rubbed her shoulder gently before turning to his two Secret Service agents; his gaze flicked almost imperceptibly to the door. Within moments the men were gone.
Sean, who had watched this little exchange, thought, How many times has a president done that very same eye flick with me?
Cox said, “Jane’s told me what you two are doing. I welcome your experience and input. We have to do everything we can to get Willa back safely.”
“Absolutely, Mr. President,” Sean said automatically.
Cox perched on the edge of his wife’s desk and motioned for the pair to retake their seats. “I was briefed on the flight about the package. I pray that will lead to something positive.” He paused. “Politics should not become involved in this and I’ll do everything possible not to allow that to happen. However, the opposition controls the Congress so I clearly don’t have absolute power there.” He gazed at his wife and smiled tenderly. “I don’t even have it in my own house, which is a good thing since my better half is far smarter than I’ll ever be.” His casual smile melted. “But officially the FBI leads this investigation. Some of my advisors don’t think I can play favorites here, but I’ve told FBI Director Munson that this case gets maximum priority. I’ll deal with the political fallout later. My wife trusts you with this, so I trust you. However, while you will continue to be provided access to the investigation, remember that your role is that of a private consultant. The FBI runs the show.”
“We understand, Mr. President.”
“They’ve been very cooperative,” Michelle added, without a trace of the sneer she was undoubtedly feeling coming on.
“Good. Have you made any progress?”
Sean shot a quick glance at Jane Cox. Her features were imperturbable yet somehow Sean was able to read them still. “It’s early yet, sir, but we’re working as hard and as fast as we can. It seems like they got a bit of a break with this package. Hopefully, as you said, that will lead to something else. Those things often do. The bad guys communicate and they let something slip.”
“All right.” Cox stood and so did Sean and Michelle.
“I’ll talk to you later, honey,” said the president.
Moments later he was gone, with no doubt his silent guards once more bracketing him.
Outside the White House the few square feet around the president demanded maximum protection, and some agents, using a football analogy, referred to it as the “red zone,” meaning that this was where the defense could never allow a score. That meant layers of perimeter walls rolling outward like the multiple skins of an onion. To get to the next depth, the intruder had to wipe out the layer above. The red zone was the last wall before you ran smack into the leader of the free world’s flesh and bone. It consisted of top agents who’d been excruciatingly vetted to get to this level, positioned hip and flank in the form of a diamond. A hard diamond. And every single one of those agents would automatically fight to the death and take a lethal round for the man, without question. That was the one layer that could never be breached, because it was the last one.
Yet even in the White House, the Service was always within a foot of the man save for one place: the First Family’s private quarters. In the field of presidential protection, you could never assume that you always knew where your enemies were, or whether your friends were really friends.
A few minutes later, Sean and Michelle were in the tunnel heading back to the Treasury, a Marine in full dress uniform leading the way.
“I’ve always wanted to meet the president,” Michelle said to Sean.
“He’s an impressive guy. But…”
Michelle’s voice sank to a whisper. “But you’ll always see him in that car in the alley with that woman?”
He grimaced but didn’t answer her.
“Why didn’t you ask Jane about the two C-sections and three kids?”
“Because my gut told me not to. And right now my gut is scaring me to death.”
CHAPTER 20
SEAN YAWNED, sat back, finished off his coffee, and rose to get some more while Michelle stared intently at the computer screen. They were at her apartment near Fairfax Corner. While outside cars and patrons streamed through the popular upscale shopping area, the two of them had been sequestered in Michelle’s cluttered home office staring at digital liquid on her Mac. Sean returned and handed her a fresh cup of coffee. It had taken a long time to sift through Tuck Dutton’s computer files. But some interesting information had been gained by the effort.
The man had been scheduled to come home the morning following the kidnapping attempt. Cassandra Mallory’s cell phone had been listed in his contacts. Sean had called it. A woman had answered and then he’d hung up. Her address was also in Tuck’s records.
“We might have to pay the woman a visit,” Michelle said.
“If she’s still around.”
“You think she was in on it?”
“Hard to say. I have no doubt they had something going on. You don’t use a coworker’s name as your computer password. But whether she knew about this, or whether Tuck was actually involved…” He shrugged.
She gave him a confused look. “I didn’t think Tuck’s involvement was an open question. If he wasn’t involved it was a helluva coincidence, don’t you think?”
“But we did a quick look at his financial account. There’s no movement of cash out that isn’t accounted for. So, what, they did this for free?”
“Maybe he has another account somewhere. The guy’s in government contracting. You telling me folks like that don’t have slush funds all over the place?”
“But if he decided to be at the house it apparently was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I checked with the airline. The
reservation change was made at the last possible second.”
“Like we discussed before, he might have thought about it and decided it was better cover to be there than not.”
Sean looked out the window. “I feel like we’re spinning our wheels. Maybe the trace under Pam’s fingernails will get a hit on a database somewhere.”
Michelle said excitedly, “Wait a minute, what if the ransom is the payment? That way Tuck doesn’t have to cough up a dime and there’s no money trail for the FBI to follow.”
“So these guys do all this on the come? You know the kidnapping
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