Dinner that evening had been a black tie affair, with a select few donors in a highly secure formal dinning room of the hotel. There had been as many people on the security detail as there had been guests. The attendees had all been long time supporters of Mason’s, and therefore not strangers to Grace, but she felt completely alone throughout the event, nonetheless. During the entire dinner, Mason had only spoken to her when required. As hard as she tried to put her revelation out of her mind, now it seemed that she could find a double meaning in every word that her husband uttered. This could not be happening, she kept saying to herself. This cannot be real, she tried to convince herself. But every time she tried the message popped back into the forefront of her mind, when not actually displayed on her contact. Even as she had joked with one of the Senator’s wives, the words had been superimposed over her face. There could be no doubt. She had double checked the time the message had been sent. It had been only an hour before Bazir had arrived at his hotel.
Though the dinner had only lasted two hours, it had seemed to take forever. Finally when she could no longer take it, her stomach in full churn mode, she excused herself and went back upstairs, Connor right behind her. They waited quietly at the elevator for the car to arrive. He stood solidly beside her, his watchful gaze keeping a check down the hallways to ensure there were no dangers. The car arrived and the doors slid open. He glanced inside, confirmed that it was empty, and then escorted her inside. She pushed the button for their floor and the doors slid shut. He remained silent at her side as the elevator began its ascent.
“Connor?” She asked, as they stared at the closed door.
“Yes, mam.”
“How long have you been in the service?”
“Ten years, mam. The Secret Service, that is.”
“And this is not your first protective assignment is it?”
“No, mam. This is my second protection post.”
“Who was your first?”
“Assignment? I’m not sure that I can reveal that information, mam.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not sure it’s appropriate, mam.”
“But not against policy?”
“Well, no mam, not that I know of.”
“Then who was it?”
“It doesn’t matter, does it?”
“Maybe...maybe not.”
“I’d rather not discuss this, mam.”
“But you will...won’t you.” For the first time, he shifted his gaze away from door and looked at her. She caught his eyes. “Won’t you.” She repeated.
“Why?” He asked. She didn’t answer, but still held his gaze. “Mrs. Alexander...why is this important to you?” She stared back silently, rolling through her mind why she had even asked the question. The weight of her newfound knowledge about her husband was overwhelming, and though she felt that she had to do something, she had no clue as to what to do, nor to who to turn.
“Grace.” She said finally. “Please, Connor, call me Grace. When we’re alone at least.” He watched her for a moment, and then nodded.
“As you wish, mam.”
“Grace.”
“Yes, mam...Grace.” They stood silently again. “Mam?” He asked.
“Grace.” She replied.
“Grace?”
“Yes, Connor.”
“It was Johnson, mam. Arthur Johnson.” It took a moment before the name sunk in. She recognized it right away, but as the pieces clicked together in her mind she realized what he was saying. She turned to him.
“You were there?” she asked. He nodded. “When it happened?” Again he nodded. It all came flooding back to her. She had seen the videos of when Arthur Johnson, a front runner for the candidacy, had been assassinated last year. There had been two gunmen that had infiltrated the crowd at his speech, and both had opened fire during the live coverage. It had been a horrifying thing to witness. And she remembered watching as the Secret Service agents leapt to cover Johnson as he fell to the ground, and now she recalled vividly the one agent that had jumped from the stage and tackled one of the shooters, even as he continued to fire. “You were shot.” She said breathlessly. He hesitated, looked away for moment, but then turned back to her.
“Yes, mam...Grace.”
“But you’re okay? Now I mean?”
“I’m healed. There was only one injury that was a problem. The others were through and throughs.”
“Good Lord, how many times were you hit?”
“Four, mam. They took out my spleen, and put me through six months of torture that they affectionately referred to as physical therapy. Now I’m as good as new.” He smiled slightly. She just stared at him. “Grace?” He asked, touching her shoulder. “You okay?” She pulled herself together, and nodded.
“I’m fine. Just surprised that’s all.”
“It’s all in a days work, mam. Most agents don’t get the opportunity to serve more than once on a protection detail...after there has been a threat like that. I consider myself honored to have been assigned to your protection.” The elevator came to a stop, and the doors slid open. He motioned for her to stay put, and advanced into the hallway. After a quick check, he motioned for her to follow. They walked towards her room.
“Does it bother you?” She asked.
“How? I’m sure you saw similar action when you were active duty.” She thought about this, flashing back to when she had been shot, and nodded. “It’s no different really, just in a different kind of war.” He explained. “On the battle field, you put the safety of your squad ahead of the safety of yourself. This is really no different. I have to put your safety ahead of mine.”
“But Connor, to take a bullet for someone else...someone you hardly know...” He nodded.
“But I have. And I would. For you, mam.” They reached the door to her room, and he activated the lock, and opened the door just wide enough to slide inside. “Stay close.” He directed as he drew his weapon. She stepped into the room right behind him. The door closed and locked behind them. “Stay here.” He said, as he began to check the suite. A moment later he was back, weapon holstered. “We’re clear.” She nodded, and relaxed a little. She went into the bedroom to change out of her evening dress. He waited patiently in the main living area. As she put away the dress, and changed into shorts and a loose fitting top, she pondered if what she was thinking of doing was as bad idea as it felt like. She had to confide in someone. She could not carry this burden alone. But if she told Connor about the message, wouldn’t it be the ultimate betrayal of Mason. Could she really do that to him? She was conflicted, and completely unsure of what she should do. She left the bedroom, only to find him still standing by the front door.
“Mam...Grace...if you’re done with me for tonight, I’ll turn in.”
“Wait.” She said. “Come sit with me for a minute.” She walked into the main living area, and sat on the couch. He hesitated, but soon followed, and sat in a chair across from her. “I have a question for you.” She said, still uncertain what she would say.
“Yes, mam.”
“Have you ever known someone...I mean really known someone. Known them so well that you could anticipate their every thought. Their every whim?” He looked puzzled by the question, but appeared to consider it. He nodded.
“Yes, mam. I have.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, who was this person?” He hesitated and shifted in his chair, his body language clearly indicating that he did not want to answer the question.
“Mam, I’m not sure this is an appropriate-”
“It’s okay, Connor.” She interrupted, staring at him intently. “I wouldn’t want you to do or say anything that you’re uncomfortable with.” She held his gaze for a moment more, and then shook her head. She brought her hands to her face, and turned away from him. She was on the brink of tears, and fought to control the emotions flooding within her.
“My wife, mam. It was my wife.” She slowly turned back to him. “Before she passed.” He looked down at the floor, purpo
sely not making eye contact with her.
“I’m sorry...how-”
“Cancer, mam. Three years ago now.” As usually blank as his face was, it was anything but now. She could clearly see his pain, and now wished she had not asked the question.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” She said sincerely. He nodded, and in a moment his face transformed back into one devoid of emotion. She got up abruptly and walked to the window. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought any of this up.” Tears began to come, but she did her best to cry silently, her face still turned away from him. “I’m sorry.” She said again, and then added. “You can go now.” She raised her hand towards the door, but still did not face him. She heard him rise up, and step towards the door, but did not hear it open.
“Are you okay, mam?” She nodded, though she still faced the curtain. She did not turn to look, but she knew he still stood by the door. “What were you going to ask me...Grace?” Oh Dear Lord, dare I go through with this, she asked herself. Once she had opened this door, there would no shutting it. What if somehow she was wrong? What if it was all just some kind of bizarre coincidence? What if Mason was truly innocent in all of this? What if? She heard him open the door. It was now or never. She quickly wiped her tears and turned to face him.
“It was Mason.” She said. Connor still held the door open. “The person I was talking about. It was Mason.” She took a couple of steps towards him. “For all the years we’ve been together...we’ve been so close. I have never doubted who he was, or what he stood for...but...” He watched her intently, as she continued to try and come to terms with what she was about to reveal. “But recently...I just don’t know...” The tears had begun to flow. “I was going to ask-” Suddenly the door swung wide open, and Mason walked in.
“Ask what?” He said, as Connor stepped out of his way. Grace spun around, desperately trying to bring herself under control. She did not want Mason to see her tears.
“I just...” Grace began to stutter. Connor had seen the fear that suddenly befell her expression as she turned away.
“She was just asking me when you would be up, sir.” He said. Mason turned to him, and eyed him for a moment.
“Well, I’m here now. Go on Connor, get some rest.” Mason said, nodded and then went into the bedroom. Grace glanced back at Connor. He held her gaze for a moment, nodded to her, and then left. She watched with a feeling of dread as the door swung shut behind him.
Chapter 16
VirtuaScape Page 15