First Family

by David Baldacci

  CHAPTER 34

  SEAN WAS ABLE to grab a flight to Nashville that night. Michelle picked him up from the airport. On the drive to her father’s house he filled Michelle in on what he’d discovered about Tuck and Cassandra Mallory.

  “She sounds like someone whose ass I would really love to kick,” she snapped.

  “Well, you sure wouldn’t have any trouble finding it. The lady tends to put it right out there.”

  “So who was the man who was meeting with Pam? The one Tuck thought was having an affair with her?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to follow that up.”

  After they rode in silence for a few seconds he said, “You really think your father killed your mother?”

  “I don’t know what to think. I only know that someone killed her and he’s acting like the prime suspect.”

  “Do the cops share your suspicions?”

  “He’s a former police chief and my brother Bobby is on the force here. They tend to cover their own.”

  “But if the evidence points in one direction, they’ll have to act.”

  “I know that,” she said tensely.

  “Have you talked to this Donna person? The one your mom was supposed to be meeting for dinner?”

  “Not yet. I was hoping you and I could do it together.”

  He gripped her shoulder. “I know this is hard, Michelle. But we’ll get through it.”

  “I know you’ve got your hands full with the Dutton case. I mean the First Lady and all. I feel sort of guilty pulling you into this.”

  He smiled reassuringly. “I’m a great multitasker. You should know that by now.”

  “I still appreciate it.”

  “Have they canvassed the neighborhood? Anyone see anything?”

  “There was a pool party going on next door. A sweet sixteen for the homeowner’s granddaughter. Cars parked all the way up the street. Lot of noise. Music. But no eyewitnesses to anything.”

  “Maybe something will pop on that end,” he said encouragingly.

  The Maxwell house was full, so Michelle had gotten Sean a room at a local hotel. He dropped his bag in his room and they drove over to the house. Sean expressed his condolences to everyone and then Michelle led him out into the backyard, where they could talk.

  “The funeral’s tomorrow,” she said.

  “Your brothers seem to be wondering what I’m doing here.”

  “Let them wonder.”

  “Do they suspect their father?”

  “Even if they did, they would never acknowledge it.”

  “And yet you have no trouble doing so.”

  “Whose side are you on?”

  “Yours, always. How do you want to start digging?”

  “I snitched my mother’s address book. A Donna Rothwell is listed in there. She’s the only Donna, so she must be the one. I know it’s very late but I thought we could call her and meet with her.”

  “On what pretext?”

  “My wanting to know who my mother’s friends were? Stories she could tell me. Quaint memories that might just lead me to a murderer.”

  “And if that person turns out to be your father?”

  “I don’t make exceptions to that rule. If he’s the one, so be it.”

  Donna Rothwell agreed to meet with them despite the late hour. She was in her early sixties, about five-five, with a compact, athletic build. She had meticulously styled hair and carefully applied makeup. She exuded considerable warmth and even vivaciousness. Her home was about four miles from the Maxwells’. It was large, richly furnished, and immaculate; a woman in full maid’s uniform had answered the door. The lady definitely had money, and from the many photos and mementos arrayed on shelves and tables, it was clear that she had traveled the world in high style.

  She explained, “My late husband, Marty, was CEO of a large computer company and cashed out early. We lived a good life together.”

  “Your husband passed on?” Sean asked.

  “Years ago. His heart.”

  “Never remarried?”

  “Marty and I were college sweethearts. Doubt I’d get anything that good again, so why take a chance? But I date. Going steady right now, in fact. Sounds like high school, I know, but things come full circle if you live long enough.”

  “So you and my mom were close?”

  “We did lots of things together. She was fun, your mom. I know this is all so horribly sad and depressing, but I want you to know that your mother knew how to have a good time.”

  “And my dad?”

  Donna picked up her cocktail and sipped from it before answering. “He didn’t get out as much. He liked to read, or so Sally told me. More reserved. He was a policeman, right? Seen the bad side of life for so many years. It probably does something to you, or at least that was my conclusion. Maybe causes you to be unable to have fun. I don’t know. I’m just speculating here,” she added quickly, probably noting the souring look on Michelle’s face. “Your dad is a nice man. Very handsome. Lot of women around here thought your mom was very lucky.”

  “I’m sure. So Mom was coming to see you the night she died?”

  Donna put down her cocktail. “Who told you that?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I guess not.”

  “So was she?”

  “We had talked about it, sure.” She paused, seeming to gather her thoughts. “I actually think we were going to do something. Dinner, maybe a movie. We did that about once a week.”

  “It wasn’t all that long ago. Can’t you remember for sure?” Sean said politely. “I mean, the police will want to know for certain.”

  Donna picked her drink back up. “Police!”

  “My mother’s death is a homicide, Donna. The police are investigating.”

  “I thought she had a heart attack or hit her head or something.”

  “That’s not how it happened.”

  “So what did happen?” When neither of them said anything, Donna exclaimed, “Are you telling me she was murdered?”

  “Why would you think that?” asked Michelle.

  “Because if her heart didn’t stop and she didn’t hit her head and the police are investigating, what else is there?”

  “What can you tell me about my mom’s life here? Other people she knew? Things she did?”

  Donna was staring off, her mouth moving but nothing coming out. Finally she said, “If there’s a killer loose…”

  “Nobody said that was the case. Now, getting back to my mom.”

  Donna gulped down the rest of her drink and said hurriedly, “She had a lot of friends. All female as far as I knew. We did things together. Had fun. That was it.”

  “Can I have their names?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to talk to them like I’m talking to you.”

  “Are you investigating this?” She eyed Michelle nervously. “Sally told me you used to be with the Secret Service. And that you’re a private investigator now.”

  “That’s true. But all I am right now is a daughter who’s lost her mother. Can I have those names?”

  Donna gave them to her along with addresses and contact information.

  As they drove off, Michelle’s phone rang. She answered, listened, and then clicked off. “Shit!”

  “What is it?”

  “That was my brother Bill. The cops just picked up my dad for questioning.”

  CHAPTER 35

  THEY DROVE with Bill Maxwell to the police station but despite Bobby’s connection to the force they learned very little and ended up waiting in the lobby drinking bad vending machine coffee. Two hours before dawn Frank Maxwell, looking pale and worn, shuffled down the hall. He seemed surprised to see them.

  Bill immediately put a hand around his father’s shoulders. “You okay, Pop? I can’t believe they pulled this crap.”

  “They were just doing their job, Billy. Just like you’d do.”

  “What did they want?” Michelle asked.

  “T
he usual wheres, whats, whys,” Frank said casually without looking directly at her.

  “What did you tell them?” she said.

  Now he gave her a hard stare. “The truth.”

  Michelle drew closer to her father. “Which was?”

  Bill stepped between them and put a hand on his sister’s shoulder. “Will you just back off? Mom’s funeral is this afternoon, for God’s sake.”

  “I know that,” Michelle shot back, tugging his hand free. “What did you tell them, Dad?”

  “That’s between them and me. And my lawyer.”

  “Your lawyer?” gasped Bill.

  “I’m being investigated. I need a lawyer.”

  “But you didn’t do anything.”

  “Don’t be stupid, Billy. Innocent men have gone to jail before, you and I both know that. I’m entitled to counsel like everybody else.”

  They drove home together, Frank and Bill Maxwell in the back. Neither of them said a word the whole way.

  Later, as Sean was leaving the Maxwells’ house to go to his hotel, he told Michelle, “Why don’t you watch your dad and I’ll take the list of friends and try to hit some before the funeral?”

  “No, I’ll go with you. We can do it afterwards.”

  “But your family—”

  “He’s got my four brothers. I doubt he’ll even miss me. It might be a good thing since we’re not exactly hitting it off.”

  “Okay, I’m going to grab a few hours’ sleep.”

  “Me too,” she said.

  Back at his hotel Sean raided the minibar, slept for four hours, then made some phone calls. Tuck Dutton had been discharged from the hospital. He called Pam Dutton’s sister in Bethesda. Tuck had come and gotten his two kids and gone to a rental house, she told him. Sean had Tuck’s cell phone number so he tried that.

  Someone picked up on the second ring.

  It wasn’t Tuck.

  “Jane?”

  “Hello, Sean.”

  “I heard Tuck moved to a rental with the kids.”

  “He did, I’m helping them all settle in.”

  “Where is the place?”

  “In Virginia. It’s a townhouse near the Vienna metro. The FBI uses it sometimes to put up visiting agents. The Secret Service is here as well, of course.”

  “How’re Tuck and the kids?”

  “Not great. Have you made any progress?”

  “Yes, can you put Tuck on?”

  “Can’t you tell me?”

  “I really need to talk to Tuck about this.”

  Sean heard a noise come out of the woman’s throat that made it clear she did not appreciate this slight at all. Still, a moment later he heard Tuck’s voice.

  “What’s up, Sean?”

  “Is Jane standing next to you?”

  “Yeah, why?’

  “You’re going to need some privacy when you hear what I have to say. Find it.”

  “But—”

  “Find it!”

  “Uh, hold on.”

  Sean heard him mumble something, and then other noises came over his phone that suggested Tuck was walking somewhere, and then a door closed. He finally came back on.

  “Okay, what’s this all about?”

  “I was in Jacksonville.”

  “Why?” Tuck snapped.

  “I needed a tan.”

  “Sean—”

  “I know it all, Tuck. In fact, I know way more than you do.”

  “I told you that—”

  “I spent all afternoon with Cassandra the Exhibitionist. That is, after Greg Dawson finished paying her off.”

  Tuck shouted, “Greg Dawson!”

  “Knock down the decibels, Tuck, I’m losing my hearing fast enough as it is. So here’s the scoop. Dawson found out about you and Cassandra and now the lady is working for him in screwing you out of your big government contract. I’m sure they’ve got pictures and everything of you two together in the sack to entertain DHS with.”

  “That asshole. And that bitch!”

  “Yeah. By the way, this is a real good lesson in why fidelity is the way to go.”

  “You didn’t tell Jane—”

  Sean broke in. “That’s not my job. In my book you’re a total shitbag for pulling this crap on your wife and the mother of your kids, but who cares what I think.”

  “She came on to me, Sean. I swear. She seduced me.”

  “Grow up, Tuck. Manipulators like Cassandra always come on to saps like you; that’s what they do. And it’s your job as a happily married man to tell her where to go. Hell, even I did when she flashed some ass at me, and I’m single! I could’ve jumped her bones without a guilty thought; luckily my good taste saved me. But I’m not a marriage counselor and that’s not why I called.”

  “So why did you phone?” Tuck asked nervously.

  “Cassandra said the two of you had a falling-out over the issue of Pam maybe having an affair. Is that true?”

  “Well…”

  “Either start telling me the truth or you can find Willa on your own.”

  “Yes. It’s true.”

  “That would have been really nice to know before, Tuck,” Sean said.

  “I… I was confused about stuff, not to mention having my head knocked in.”

  “Cassandra said you overheard some conversations and you actually saw Pam with a guy.”

  “That’s right. I couldn’t believe she might be cheating on me.”

  “Yeah, can you believe the nerve of the woman? Okay, here’s the next big question. I know your plane got in early. You said you never stopped, so where did you spend the extra hour or so you had between leaving the airport and arriving home?”

  “How did you—”

  Sean impatiently cut him off. “I’m an investigator, Tuck, that’s what I do. We’re wasting time and your kid is out there somewhere with some seriously violent folks. So where were you? And if you even think about lying to me I’m coming over there and, Secret Service protection or not, I’m gonna kick the shit out of you.”