The Governor's wife

by Mark Gimenez

  — "and on that ridge with that rifle at that very moment when Josefina made her escape attempt and-"

  The nonbeliever rolled his eyes.

  "Oh, for Christ's sake."

  "Exactly. And God gave me the ability to shoot those men and save her life. Because He wants me in the White House."

  "Well, He damn near got you killed at Kerbey's, you think about that?"

  "No, He didn't. He saved me that day. Sixty bullets they fired, but not one hit me or Becca. It was a miracle, Jim Bob, a miracle. See, I figure God put up a shield, like some kind of force field-"

  " Force field? "

  "Yeah, you know, that the bullets couldn't penetrate. How else can you explain me and Becca surviving that attack?"

  "Luck. She dropped her spoon."

  Bode pointed at Jim Bob like an eyewitness picking out the guilty criminal.

  "Nonbeliever."

  " Nonbeliever? "

  The Professor stood and gestured at Mandy.

  "She thinks she's gonna have your bastard baby and still be the first lady of America, and you think God's picking Republican presidential candidates-I'm in a fucking insane asylum!"

  Tears now streamed down Mandy's face. Her voice was childlike.

  "My dad died when I was only seven. I missed him so much, growing up. My therapist says that's why I've always been attracted to older men, that I'm subconsciously searching for a father-figure, a man to replace my dad."

  She wiped her face and looked at Bode.

  "Okay. I'll do it. For you."

  She put on a brave smile and started around the wide desk. The pregnancy had put a glow on her face that only made her more beautiful, if that was possible.

  "Because I love you."

  She extended her arms to him, and he reached out to her. Just as she rounded the corner of his desk and stepped between Bode and the window and blocked the sunlight from his face, her beautiful face exploded and her brains and blood splattered all over Bode, and she tumbled into his arms.

  " Jesus! "

  The next thing Bode knew, they were sprawled on the wood floor… blood was everywhere… Jim Bob screamed, "Help!"… the door flew open and Texas Rangers with guns drawn rushed in and shouted, "Get away from the window!"… someone called 911… "We need ambulances at the Governor's Mansion! The governor's been shot! The bullets came through the east window. We need Austin PD's SWAT on the scene now! Cordon off the one hundred block of Congress Avenue, the sniper had to be positioned there!"… and Bode felt Mandy's warm blood flow from her body and soak his shirt and wet his skin until he lay drenched in her blood… and he felt life leave her.

  Jim Bob Burnet stumbled out of the Governor's Office and down the hall and into his office. Eddie Jones followed him in and shut the door. He had rushed into the Governor's Office when he heard Jim Bob's call for help. He now holstered his gun.

  "You okay?"

  Jim Bob fell onto the couch. His heart was pounding out of his chest. He heard sirens coming closer. The last image in his mind was of Bode Bonner lying on the floor clutching Mandy Morgan's bloody head-what was left of it-in his arms.

  "Jesus, her face… it was just gone."

  "High-caliber bullet," Eddie said. "Small entry wound, big exit wound."

  Jim Bob shook his head. "Shit, if she hadn't stepped in the way, that bullet would have killed Bode."

  "The next one might."

  "The next one?"

  "Sending a sniper to Austin-that drug lord ain't quitting until the boss is dead."

  "Can you kill him first? You were in Iraq, doing all that mercenary shit. You could get a few mercs, cross the river at night and kill him, get the hell out."

  Eddie snorted. "You been watching too many action movies. Cartels got private armies, ex-special forces guys, and they're kicking the shit out of the regular Mexican Army. Sure, I could kill him. But getting out alive, that's the trick."

  "I had a million dollars set aside for Mandy. That money's available now."

  "One man with the right skill set… it's possible."

  "What if that were Bode instead of…?"

  Jim Bob couldn't clear the image of Mandy's face from his mind.

  "You were right," Eddie said.

  "About what?"

  "That she was either gonna come to Jesus or meet Him."

  Jim Bob lay his head back.

  "I didn't want this. I just wanted her to get an abortion."

  "She just did."

  "Saving those kids, surviving an assassination attempt, now this-maybe God really does want Bode Bonner in the White House."

  "Well, if He does, He'd better find a way to stop that autopsy."

  "What autopsy?"

  "On the girl. Homicide, they always do an autopsy. Problem is, they do an autopsy on Mandy-"

  Jim Bob snapped to a sitting position.

  "They find the baby."

  The Border Patrol agent named Rusty stepped through the front door of the clinic. Inez took one look at his olive green uniform and his badge and gun and jumped up from her chair as if she were guilty.

  "Doctor!"

  Jesse looked up from his desk. The Border Patrol agents seldom came into the colonias, and then only to chase drug bandits, and only if they had shot an agent. Lindsay turned away. Jesse walked over to the agent and stuck his hand out.

  "Rusty, how are you this day?"

  The agent's expression was grim.

  "Sorry to bother you, Doc, but I know you don't have a TV or nothing out here. Seeing how you might run for governor, thought you should know."

  "Know what?"

  "The governor's dead. Sniper killed him in the Governor's Mansion."

  The governor's wife screamed.

  Governor Bode Bonner stepped out the front doors of the Governor's Mansion and onto the veranda. Cameras clicked and recorded the moment. He stepped to the microphones clumped together on a stand. He was still wearing the clothes stained with Mandy's blood.

  "An hour ago, a bullet intended for me struck Mandy Morgan instead, killing her instantly. She was a wonderful, beautiful, smart young woman, and a tireless aide to me. She was my employee and my friend, but she was not my lover."

  He was lying, but Jim Bob said he had no choice.

  "Governor, from what location did the shooter fire?"

  "Apparently from the roof of an office building across Congress. The police and Rangers are investigating, but so far they've found no sign of the shooter."

  "El Diablo hasn't given up on killing you?"

  "Apparently not."

  "What are you going to do now, Governor?"

  "I'm going to bury Mandy Morgan."

  "Her mother wants to cremate her body," Jim Bob said.

  Two hours after Mandy had been murdered, Jim Bob Burnet had gathered himself. He had also convinced Mandy's mother that she did not want her daughter to be remembered as she was now but as she was before. Mandy Morgan's disfigured body now lay on a stainless steel table in the first-floor morgue at the Travis County Medical Examiner's office eight blocks away. Jim Bob had called to arrange a speedy transfer of the body to the funeral home, but the Chief ME was having none of it.

  "Only after we conduct an autopsy," Dr. Paul Janofsky said.

  "Why?"

  "To determine the cause of death."

  "Cause of death? How about a bullet through her fucking head! I was in the room, Paul. I saw the bullet hit her. I saw her die. So did the governor."

  "Jim Bob, I'm standing next to the body. I've seen hundreds of gunshot deaths, I know what killed her, but-"

  "Paul, an autopsy-the report, the photos-it'll all be public record. It'll be on the national news."

  It'll reveal that Mandy was pregnant.

  "Jim Bob, look-"

  "No, Paul, you look-at her. At her face. What do you see?"

  "Her brain."

  "Exactly. You want her autopsy photos splashed all over the Internet? Her mother sure as hell doesn't. She wants the world to rem
ember her daughter as the beautiful young woman she was, not with her fucking face blown off. Paul, she wants to cremate her daughter. Let her mother have her peace."

  He heard the ME breathing into the phone. Jim Bob gave him time to think it through. The ME finally spoke.

  "As Chief Medical Examiner for Travis County, I am responsible for investigating and certifying cause of death and manner of death in all cases of violent death. My investigation and certification as to cause and manner of death may, but is not legally required to, include an autopsy…"

  He sounded as if he were rehearsing his response to the inevitable questions from the media as to why he did not conduct an autopsy.

  "… and cause of death was clear and obvious, the death was witnessed by two credible witnesses, one of whom is the governor of Texas, and both of whom swore under oath as to the circumstances of Ms. Morgan's death. Thus, it was my…"

  He was rehearsing. Paul Janofsky had been the Travis County ME for over thirty years. He had handled numerous high-profile murders. He had experience with the media circus. He was the only Republican holding elected office in the county.

  "… professional opinion that, in light of the horrific trauma to her body and the family's wishes that an autopsy not be conducted and photos not be taken in order to preserve their daughter's privacy and dignity, an autopsy was not necessary or appropriate in this matter to determine cause of death. My official ruling is that Mandy Morgan died of a gunshot wound to the head. Manner of death was homicide."

  He paused.

  "Sounds good to me, Paul."

  "Okay, Jim Bob. No autopsy. No photos. I'll need those sworn statements from you and the governor, then I'll sign the death certificate and issue a certificate for cremation. We'll release the body upon receipt of the next-of-kin's signed release form. Time of death was nine-thirty this morning, so she can't be cremated until nine-thirty Monday morning-there's a forty-eight-hour waiting period. You're on the clock, Jim Bob. Won't be as much press coverage this weekend, but come Monday morning, all hell's gonna break loose. You'd better get this wrapped up and the body in the furnace by then, because if the district attorney gets involved-and he will-and he requests an autopsy, I'm required by law to do it. And the D.A.'s a Democrat."

  "The governor won't forget this, Paul."

  Jesse drove her into Laredo where there was cell phone service. She cried all the way. He was unfaithful, he was ambitious, he was a politician-but he was still her husband. She breathed with relief when she heard his voice.

  "Bode-thank God you're okay. The Border Patrol agent said they killed you."

  "They killed Mandy."

  "Oh, no."

  He exhaled into the phone. "Lindsay, you've got to come home. This guy ain't quitting. If he ever finds out you're right across the river from him-"

  "He won't. How's Becca?"

  "Daddy, I thought we were safe here. But if they can kill Mandy right here in the Mansion, they can kill us, too."

  Becca sat in her bed, where she sat or lay most hours of every day now, cuddling the oversized teddy bear Bode had given her for her twelfth birthday.

  "Honey, you're safe with me."

  "She wasn't. Hank, Darcy, now Mandy… They're not going to stop until they kill all of us."

  Tears ran down her face.

  "Daddy, who are those people?"

  "You killed his girlfriend."

  Four hours later, Hector Garcia had just arrived back in Nuevo Laredo and the compound. He was weary from the long drive.

  " What? "

  "It is on the news." Enrique turned the TV on with the remote. "See? You did not kill him. You killed her."

  Hector had the governor's head in his cross hairs when he pulled the trigger. He knew the local police would lock down the area, so he had left Austin immediately and driven south to the border without stopping.

  "Hector, go now and do not return without the governor's head."

  Darcy was dead. Hank was dead. Mandy was dead. Becca could be dead. He could be dead. But for Mandy, he would be dead.

  El Diablo would not stop until he had his vengeance. As a father, Bode could understand that. If those hit men had killed Becca that day, he would hunt El Diablo down and kill him. If it took the rest of his life-if it took his own life-Bode Bonner would have his vengeance. Just as El Diablo wanted his.

  Any moment, anytime, anywhere-a bullet could slam into his head. Bode turned his eyes up to the animal heads on the wall-now he knew how they felt. The only difference was, he knew he was being hunted. He knew they were coming after him.

  Bode Bonner had hunted all his life. Now he was the hunted.

  THIRTY-THREE

  Mandy Morgan's body, encased in a cardboard box, was slid into the natural-gas-fired furnace at the crematorium at nine-thirty the following Monday morning, exactly forty-eight hours to the minute after the time of her death shown on the death certificate signed by the Travis County Chief Medical Examiner. Ninety minutes later, the sixteen-hundred-degree fire had vaporized her body tissues and organs and reduced the physical being that was Mandy Morgan (and her unborn child) to skeletal remains. Which remains were collected and pulverized by the cremulator until they were ashes. She had weighed one hundred ten pounds in life; in death, her ashes weighed only three and a half pounds and were placed in a silver urn at her mother's request. Madeline Morgan, James Robert Burnet, and Governor Bode Bonner witnessed the cremation. Madeline cried; Bode sat stunned; Jim Bob paid the $500 cremation fee from the campaign petty cash fund. The Travis County District Attorney filed a written request for an autopsy with the Medical Examiner's Office at precisely 11:07 that morning.

  Jim Bob drove Mrs. Morgan to the airport for her flight back to Odessa with the urn containing her daughter's ashes cradled in her arms like an infant. Bode returned to the Mansion and found the kids playing soccer on the south lawn. With no adult supervision. He walked over to Josefina. She again wore the yellow dress, as if it were her only item of clothing.

  "Where's Becca??Donde esta Becca?"

  " Duerme."?Duerme?

  "?Que? "

  " Esta durmiendo. "

  Bode turned his palms up.

  "?Que? "

  "Becca… she…"

  Josefina put her hands together and lay her face on her hands and closed her eyes. As if sleeping.

  "She's sleeping?"

  " Si. Duerme. "

  Bode checked his watch.

  "It's almost noon."

  He went inside and upstairs to Becca's room. He knocked but she didn't answer. He opened the door and peeked in. She was still sleeping. He went over to the bed and sat next to his daughter bundled under a blanket even though it wasn't cold. Becca Bonner never used to sleep till noon. Back on the ranch, she'd be up at dawn to ride her horse or brand cows or practice volleyball before school. She had been an active, athletic, fearless girl. Now she was a frightened, fearful, depressed child hiding from the world in bed. It was his fault. His actions had put her in this state. He put his hand on his daughter over the blanket and gave her a little shake.

  "Becca, wake up. It's almost noon."

  No response.

  "Come on, honey, you can't stay in bed all day. It's not healthy."

  Still no response.

  "Becca."

  He stood and yanked the blanket off her. Saliva hung from her mouth. Her face was pale. He shook her hard this time and slapped her face. No response.

  She was unresponsive.

  "Becca!"

  "Don't tell Mom, okay?"

  Two hours later, Texas Rangers stood guard outside the emergency room at Austin General Hospital in downtown. Inside, Bode Bonner sat in a chair next to his daughter's bed. They had pumped her stomach. Alcohol and sleeping pills.

  "I wasn't trying to kill myself. I was just trying to sleep. I'm afraid to shut my eyes."

  This was his fault, too.

  "Daddy, I want to go home."

  "To the Mansion?"

  "To th
e ranch."

  THIRTY-FOUR

  The Double B Ranch comprised five thousand acres of Hill Country land outside Comfort, Texas, population 2,358. The ranch had been in the Bonner family since 1868, when Samuel Bode Bonner, fresh off fighting in the Civil War, returned to Texas and bought the land for $800 cash. No one knew how he had come into such a fortune.

  Samuel married Rebecca. They had five children. Two died before age ten; two more died without having married. Thus, the ranch went to the last surviving child, Benjamin Bode Bonner.

  Ben married Jean. They had one child who survived birth, Henry Bode Bonner.

  Henry married Elizabeth. They had two children. Emma Elizabeth, the daughter, died in a car wreck on Interstate 10 when she was sixteen. William Bode, the son, became governor of Texas.

  Bode Bonner turned the Suburban through the gates under the Double B brand. Becca sat next to him in the passenger seat; Lupe, Miguel, and Alejandro sat in the middle seat, and Josefina sat in the third seat.

  "?La hacienda? "

  "Yep. This is our ranch."

  Jim Bob had remained in Austin to write the keynote speech that Bode would give at the governors' conference in two weeks in Dallas. Bode had convinced his Texas Ranger bodyguards that if they stayed in Austin and made daily trips about town in the caravan of black Suburbans and Jim Bob issued daily press releases and tweets from the Governor's Office, everyone would think the governor was still in Austin; that he was safer alone than with large Rangers attracting attention. And besides, no one could find the Double B Ranch without a guide.

  At least he didn't think so.

  The long caliche road led to a modest house high on a hill that overlooked wide valleys east and west where the cattle grazed under the hot August sun. Bode parked the Suburban under the shade of an oak tree. The kids bailed out and stretched after the two-hour drive. A white-haired Mexican man rode up on a white stallion trailed by a big German shepherd. The man dismounted and embraced Lupe, his sister. The dog ran to Bode.

  "Shep!"

  Bode greeted the dog then stood to greet the man.

  " Senor Bode, it has been a while."

  Ramon Sendejo's hands were strong from a life of hard work, the last sixty years on the Double B Ranch. He had come with his own father when he was only eight; he had never left the ranch. He turned to Becca and held his arms out to her.