VirtuaScape

by Kelvin Kelley

“Do you believe it?” Mason yelled for the tenth time. Grace firmly held her cup of tea between both hands, as she continued to nurse her hangover. The wine before dinner, the wine at dinner, and the half bottle she had drank after Mason had come in last night, in conjunction with the double dose of medications she had taken had been too much for her to handle. Granted, she had slept like a rock last night, on the couch no less, but she was certainly paying for it now. She just could not bring herself to go into the bedroom. To lie next to him, to be in the same bed as him. And as he ranted all morning about what Bazir had said, she began to realize more and more that he was not the man she had thought she knew. He was not the same at all.

  “That son of a bitch!” Mason yelled. The first communication he had received that morning had been from his campaign manager. Apparently, late last night, Bazir Malek had announced that he would not be attending the debate scheduled for tomorrow night. He has expressed his extreme concern for all involved, based on the most recent attack on his hotel. And evidently the media was eating it up. Regardless of the channel, all of the talking heads were agreeing with Bazir, and confirming that canceling the debate would be the safest thing for everyone. By the minute it seemed to get worse, with no possibility that Mason could force Malek’s hand and make him appear. And this all culminated with Grace being rudely awakened by the beginning of Mason’s tirade.

  “Mason,” She began, “Maybe it’s for the best.”

  “For the best? For the best? What the hell are you saying, Grace?”

  “For the safety-”

  “Fuck the safety, Grace. You hear me! Fuck the safety!” He slammed his fist down on the table. “Have you seen the damn polls, Grace? Have you? The numbers are sliding, Grace. They are sliding, right over to that bastard’s side. And this...” He waived his hands. “This is exactly what that son of bitch wants. To shut me down. That little fucking sand cunt knows that he can’t beat me in a live debate. Fucker!” He slammed his fist down again, knocking his coffee cup over. He ignored the mess. So did she, as she held her aching head.

  “Where is Connor?”

  “Connor? Who the fuck knows!” He said, and jumped up, headed for his office. He went inside and slammed the door shut. Momentarily she could hear his muffled yells as he went off on some other poor soul on the other end of the telephone. She messaged Connor, and he instantly replied. He would be right over. She shakily got up, and managed to clean up Mason’s mess just before Connor knocked at the door, and then let himself in. He took one look at her, and shook his head.

  “A little under the weather today?” He asked.

  “Don’t ask.” She replied. Again Mason’s muffled voice came through the office door. It was muffled, but not so much that the expletives were not quite apparent. Grace blushed as she realized that Connor could hear his cursing. Connor looked perplexed as he reached for his weapon.

  “It’s Mason.” She said. He paused, his hand on his gun, he stared towards the office door, and then looked back to her. She nodded.

  “Mr. Alexander?” He said with disbelief. “Our Mr. Alexander? Your Mr. Alexander?” Again, she nodded. “What the heck?” He said.

  “The debate. Bazir has cancelled it.”

  “Safety?” He asked. She nodded. “Yeah, I don’t blame him.” He said. “I even suggested it to Mr. Alexander’s detail.”

  “Don’t tell him that. He’d rip off your head.”

  “Well it didn’t go anywhere. They shut me down as soon as I mentioned it. I guess they knew how he would react.” Another list of curses found their way out of the office, and Connor turned towards the door again, shaking his head. He looked back to her. “I’m speechless.”

  “Speechless?” She asked. He nodded.

  “I’ve never heard him talk like that before.” He said.

  “Me either. At least not until a week or so ago.” She said with a disgusted tone.

  “Stress?” Connor asked. She wanted to just say yes. Answering him, yes, would put Mason’s behavior in a neat little explainable box, where it could be tied up with a ribbon and set aside without concern. But she knew that his behavior was only a minor part of what was going on. Even at this moment she was reviewing the incriminating message on her contact.

  “Is there anywhere in this hotel where we can go?” She asked. “I need to get out of here.” He studied her for a moment, before he answered.

  “There’s a solarium on the roof. I was up there last night. It looks well protected. I think it would be safe.” She nodded, and headed for the door.

  “Let’s go.” She said. He followed her to the door, opened it, checked the hallway, and then escorted her out of the room. They walked in silence to the elevator, and rode to the solarium, each in their own thoughts. But when the doors opened, Grace gasped. It was beautiful. She walked slowly out of the elevator marveling at the lush vegetation.

  “It is so beautiful.” She said softly. He nodded, as he looked around.

  “Different in daylight.” He observed, walking towards a gathering area where a series of padded chairs formed small circular groupings. He took a seat. She joined him.

  “I’ve forgotten what outside even looks like.” She said, taking in a deep breath of the fragrant air. She sighed it out slowly. She turned towards him, and saw that he was staring at her.

  “What?” She asked.

  “Last night.”

  “I drank too much. My medication.”

  “I can see all of that, but that’s not what I’m talking about.”

  “What?” She asked, knowing full well what he was referring to. Last night she had been unsure if she should say anything to him, and then finally had decided to tell him, that is, until Mason barged through the door. Then later that night she decided that she couldn’t do it, but then again decided she had to. And now this morning, once again she had no idea what to do. All she knew was that this was more than she could bear.

  “You know what, Grace.” He said intently. He turned from her, and looked around. “You know, I was up here for hours last night. Couldn’t sleep. That was your fault.”

  “My fault?” She said. He nodded.

  “I don’t know what it was that you were trying to tell me last night, and to be honest with you, I don’t know if I want to know.” She felt her heart drop. If she couldn’t go to Connor with this, she had no idea who she could tell. “But it is obvious that whatever it is, it’s tearing you up inside.” He reached over and gently touched her hand. “Grace, I am assigned to your protection. This is my job, and I will do everything I can to make sure that you are safe at all times. I will keep you safe from known and unknown enemies. And I will keep you safe from anyone who is intent on doing you harm. And I will do so, even if it means my own loss of life. I think you know this, and I think you believe this. But I need you to know that I will also keep you safe from your husband, if need be.” Her eyes widened. A look of knowing crossed his face. “That’s it, isn’t it?” She looked away, so that he could not read her expression. But he did not have to see her face to know that he was right. “Has he hit you?” He asked. She shook her head.

  “No. Nothing like that.” She turned back to him. “It’s just...”

  “Yes?”

  “He’s so different lately. Not himself. Angry. Belligerent.”

  “Vicious?” He asked. She considered his observation.

  “Yeah, in a way, I guess. But it’s more than that.” She hesitated. Once she crossed this line there would be no going back.

  “Go on.” He prodded. She took a deep breath, and even as she was about to reveal her concerns, she suddenly recalled her father’s voice.

  “Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord. Ephesians 5:22.” She said, echoing her father’s words. She began to shake her head. She could not do this. Married in the eyes of the Lord, the two of them were one with God. Through thickness and thin, through sickness and in health, until death do us part. She could not do this. She could not bet
ray her husband.

  “I don’t understand, mam.” He said, the confusion evident in his voice. She looked to him.

  “I’m sorry, Agent Sloan.” She said, and quickly looked away. “It’s all been a bit much, I guess.” She said, as she switched gears and tried to down play the turmoil inside her. They sat in silence, neither sure what to say next.

  “I applaud your faith, mam.” He said quietly.

  “My faith? Why?”

  “Once...Once I held such a conviction.” He said, but then began to shake his head. He looked away.

  “Connor?” Suddenly she felt the shift in his demeanor, like a wave of vulnerability. He continued to look away from her. “Hey.” She said. He motioned to give him a moment, and gathered himself. When he turned back, she could see in his eyes that he was fighting an overpowering emotion. He was composed, but the glistening in his eyes was unmistakable.

  “My wife, mam.” He caught her eyes for a moment, but quickly looked down. “Every day we prayed that God would help us to find a cure. Every day we prayed for those that faced the same fate as she did, or worse. Every day...” He choked up. Again he composed himself before he continued. “And in the end...as I held her...” An uncontrollable sob escaped him. He closed his eyes tight. A tear escaped, and slid down his cheek. Grace’s breath caught in her throat, as she fought back her own sob.

  “Shh.” She managed to say. He shook his head.

  “As I held her, in those last few minutes. Her body wracked with a pain that the morphine could not stop...” Another tear slipped down his cheek. “She prayed that God would look over me...” Again he sobbed. “In that moment...those last few breaths of her life...it was me that she prayed for.” He choked, and turned to look out into the solarium. His body was wracked with sobbing. Grace sat silently, as she felt every ounce of his grief, and fought to not become overwhelmed by it.

  “She is in a better place.” Grace said quietly. Conner suddenly turned around, his face full of anguish.

  “Is she?” He asked angrily, looking directly into her eyes. Suddenly, a wave of peace overcame Grace. She could feel the pain leech out of her, and a warmth embraced her.

  “Yes.” She said softly. “She is. She is with our Lord and Savior, in the Kingdom of Heaven. She is free of pain. She is unburdened by any earthly concerns. She is filled with peace and love, and has life everlasting. And even now, she is watching over you, Connor. She knows your pain, and you know that she is still praying that you will find solace in our faith. That you will once again accept Jesus Christ as your Savior, and that you will embrace the love of our Lord. You know this.”

  “I...” He began, but could not continue.

  “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” Grace said, quoting the book of Matthew. He stared at her, the pain slowly drifted from his expression. He took a deep breath, and wiped at his eyes. She continued. “For God so loved the world...” She hesitated. A small smile crept onto his face.

  “John 3:16.” He said quietly. She nodded. He contemplated her for a moment, before he spoke again. “That he gave his only Son...” She joined him as together they completed the verse.

  “That whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” They sat quietly for several minutes. Connor was deep in his own thoughts, while Grace hoped that she had been able to help him find his way back to God. She knew more than most, that the death of a loved one could put one’s faith in jeopardy, even when the very life and death of Christ had been about salvation and ever lasting life. But she also knew that without faith, life on earth could in fact be nearly unbearable.

  “Grace.” Connor finally said. She looked up, putting her own thoughts aside. “Thank you.” She nodded. He hesitated for moment before continuing. “Mam...I think there is something I need to ask you.” Again he hesitated before he continued. “About your Husband.” He said. Suddenly her heart leapt into her throat.

  “Mason?” She asked. He nodded. “What?”

  “Mam...Grace...it’s something Frank...I mean Agent Lee, from Mr. Alexander’s detail...it’s something he mentioned.” He appeared to be struggling with what he was about to say.

  “Well, go on.”

  “Grace, mam, do you know a Teresa?”

  “Teresa?” She asked, suddenly bewildered. He nodded. Teresa, she thought. Teresa, Teresa, Teresa. “Not that I know of...wait, there was a Teresa back in the beginning. When we first started the campaign. She was in communications or marketing or something like that. I don’t think she is with the campaign any more though.” She shook her head. “I honestly can’t remember the last time that I even heard her name. Why?”

  “Mam, Agent Lee accidentally overheard a conversation-” Suddenly Grace’s veins ran cold with ice water.

  “What conversation?” She demanded.

  “It’s probably nothing, mam. The conversation was with this Teresa, and since he did not recognize the name, he wanted it checked out. Just to be sure we didn’t have any holes in security.”

  “And?” She fought to control her voice.

  “And...well mam, she is on the payroll of the campaign, but we could find no record in the last year where she actually worked on anything. No time cards, no paper trails. Nothing except for her still being paid. Quite highly paid, it appears. Agent Lee went a little further, asked around a bit, and you know? No one seems to know who she is. He asked if I might ask you about her.” Grace sat, flabbergasted. She could now recall the woman in question. Blond, attractive, very intelligent, and now that she thought of it, always at Mason’s beck and call. Could this be the same woman? Oh, what was her last name, she thought. Beal, Bell, something like that.

  “What is her last name?” She asked, suddenly recalling a variety of trips on which the woman she had joined Mason’s staff. Trips on which Grace had not been present.

  “Last name is Wilkes.” Grace almost sighed with relief. Whoever this Teresa was, it was a different woman. “Her last name was Belk, but evidently she got divorced a little over a year ago.” Connor said. Grace’s face blanched. Belk! That was her name! Teresa Belk, and now Grace remembered how that woman had looked at Mason, and how she had bent over backwards for him. And how she herself had been a little concerned about her. Not jealous, so much, as wanting to make sure she did not cross any boundaries. But suddenly she was gone, and Grace had literally forgotten about her.

  “I...I remember her.” Grace said shakily.

  “You do?” He considered this. “Mam, can you think of any reason, any job or assignment that she may have that would have her being paid so much?”

  “How much?”

  “It’s quite a lot, mam.”

  “How much?”

  “Agent Lee said that once a month, there is a direct deposit into her account.”

  “How much, Connor?”

  “Five times what Mr. Alexander’s campaign manager is paid.” Grace was shocked. Five times? Obviously the campaign manager would be the highest paid person on the staff. What in the world was this woman doing to be paid five times as much? And where the heck was she? Grace hadn’t seen or heard of her in forever.

  “Mam, are you okay?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “That’s why Agent Lee wanted me to ask you about. We don’t understand it either. Frank thinks it looks shady, but hey, we’re talking about Mason Alexander, I reminded him. It’s not like he would ever do anything that he could be blackmailed for.” Grace nearly fainted. Blackmailed? Oh my God, she thought. Mason, what have you done?

  Chapter 17