Bishop (Political Royalty Book 3) (10 page)

Walker scanned the audience and the press, even the jaded ones, paid attention. The rest of the audience seemed to visibly shrink. They knew what was coming.

“Except it doesn’t. Not only is corn ethanol more expensive than gasoline and has been for decades, it’s not all that energy efficient. It takes almost as much energy to produce as it generates. And in the meantime, demand for corn makes the price per bushel skyrocket, causing devastation throughout the dairy industry. In 2009, many farmers paid with their farms and their herds. The rest of us might have noticed a blip in milk prices but not enough to cut back on our consumption. All of it so we could give consumer-funded tax breaks to the companies who run the gas stations.”

“My God, he’s good,” said Justin. “There’s a chance he could spin this into something other than a complete disaster. Especially the part about the dairies. If we can get the regular news outlets to pick that up, he stands a real chance of expanding the general election base. Of course, it doesn’t help in the primaries.”

It didn’t. Primary voters wanted their candidates to have strong conservative values, intact families, and toe the tightest of party lines. The donors wanted fiscal conservatism, no expansion of expensive social services and a stability the market could depend on. But that core was rarely enough to win an election. To win the presidency, Walker was going to need more. Appealing to the Reagan Democrats would be a start. Alienating big ag donors wouldn’t help.

“I’m not promising anything. Damn it, Haven. I want this.” She could hear the frustration and the longing in Justin’s voice, and she nodded so he’d know she heard him. “This guy is the real thing, but I have to look out for myself too.”

“I understand.” She did. In his place, she couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t have been out the door already. Despite their years together, she knew the only thing holding him was the fact that Walker could win. Justin wanted that as much as she did, and he hadn’t done anything to jeopardize it.

“It would be a hell of a lot easier if you hadn’t fallen in love with him.”

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H
AVEN LEANED FORWARD in her chair and watched Becca’s fingers race across the backlit keyboard in front of her. The image on the TV screen tiled to include the campaign’s Facebook profile and the database Owen had been working on since his hire. Haven had decided to take a couple of days while they were between primaries to make sure the computer system was up and functional and that the captains on the ground knew how to use it.

She still couldn’t believe how lucky she’d been having Becca practically drop in her lap. The young woman was bright, easy to get along with, and had a knack of explaining Owen’s system to humans. Even Travis had benefited from her attention. He was looking decidedly less freaked every time she mentioned parsing poll numbers and data points. She also couldn’t help but think the work was good for the younger woman. She seemed stronger and more comfortable in her own skin. Not that something as simple as a job could fix what she’d been through, but regardless of Sandra’s motives behind the action, Haven was glad they could help Becca and her brother. And grateful to have her on the team.

“It’s okay to collect information like this?” Abby sat in a chair on the other side of Becca. Of all the senior staff, she seemed the most genuinely interested in how the database worked.

“To a certain point, but yes, the way we’re doing it is okay. There’s a tracking pixel on the website that lets us capture the contact info of the people who visit. From there, Facebook can generate an audience that lets us target our advertising to those voters. You’ve been doing that all along.” She pulled up the campaign’s ad manager page and showed the string of ad campaigns going back to the beginning. “What this database does goes a step beyond. With a volunteer’s permission, we have access to their friends list. Thestral can cross-reference that list with the database and see who is the best person to approach those potential voters.”

The way she said it made it clear she was impressed with Owen’s work, which in turn made Haven feel a little better about letting him name the database program after an invisible imaginary creature out of a children’s book.

“We all know people are more inclined to trust their friends than advertisements,” said Haven. “This lets the captains give volunteers a very targeted list of a limited number of friends to contact directly.”

Haven felt the air shift like some kind of crazy disturbance in the force. She didn’t need to turn around to know Walker had arrived. She felt it.

“And that makes sense from a time and resource standpoint?” asked Walker, coming to stand behind her, his hand resting on the back of her chair. He’d been at a string of town halls at the local VFWs with Justin. Meet and greets with the party faithful, nothing earth-shattering, but Haven hadn’t expected him back so soon.

“It does,” said Haven. She met his gaze and the look in his eyes raised the temperature between them. There’d been no time for them to be alone since they arrived in South Carolina. The senior staff was pulling double time, their work hours growing with every step they took toward the nomination. It made every interaction she and Walker had take on a deeper significance. “You know as well as anyone that a successful campaign is local, built one neighborhood at a time. Instead of throwing a bunch of things at the wall, this lets us make sure we’re not wasting energy.”

“And Thestral allows us to laser focus on the most receptive targets,” said Becca, smiling at the senator.

“Show me,” he said, pulling up one of the rolling office chairs and wedging himself between them.

Haven scooted over to make more room so she wouldn’t have to breathe in the subtle scent of his aftershave. She still hadn’t managed to get her Pavlovian response to him under control and the more time they spent apart, the worse it got. Staying in one place for a couple of days eliminated the distractions of traveling on the bus and amplified her feelings. It had been two days since she watched him speak the truth to the money at the Energy Summit. And two days since she and Justin talked about the tangled mess that was her personal life. It was a good thing she didn’t have time for a personal life.

“Let’s start with voter registration,” said Becca. “It’s late for the primaries, but I know you guys want to target turnout in the general. So we can take this list here because we got permission from one of our volunteers.” She opened a friends list generated from a Facebook profile. “We narrow it by the profile user’s town or voting precinct.” She clicked a few times and the list on the screen shrunk to a fraction of the original names. “And now we cross-reference it against the voter registration list for that specific precinct.”

Becca tapped on the crazy old school keyboard with the Tron lights glowing under the keys and the rest of them watched and waited. Within moments, a list of ten or so names appeared on the screen. Beside her, she felt Walker lean forward. Haven knew where the demonstration was going, but it didn’t make her any less excited to see the results. He was going to love it. She had no doubt his politician’s mind would geek hard over the practical applications for his campaign.

Holding her breath, she glanced between Walker and the screen. Becca made a few adjustments and the short list of names filled the center of the screen, overlaid above the databases used to generate it.

“What is that?” asked Abby, her voice filled with wonder.

Who’d have guessed she’d turn out to be a closet tech geek?
It made sense. One of the few things Haven knew about the woman was the orderly way her mind worked and the fact that she occasionally saw connections the others missed. Haven could see why Thestral (she’d never get used to that name) would appeal to her. It made her rethink the other woman’s role in the campaign, at least in the short term. Maybe she’d been missing an opportunity with Abby.

“The intersection,” said Walker, looking over his shoulder to catch her eye, the grin playing over the corners of his lips. He swiveled to face Becca. “It’s the intersection, right? The list of the volunteer’s Facebook friends who might not be registered to vote.”

“Exactly,” said Becca, clearly pleased with the candidate’s attention. “And if we change the parameters, let’s say to friends who voted in different party primaries over the past three or four election cycles—”

“You have possible independent voters who actually get out and vote, and a contact who knows them. Brilliant.” Walker shifted in his chair, his chin resting against his hand as he absentmindedly stroked his thumb over his bottom lip. “Can we use this? It’s micro targeting and very cool, but is it practical? How much do we end up spending in time and cash for each potential vote?”

“Beyond the cost to build the programs and buy into the databases, which we would do anyway, it doesn’t cost
us
anything. The volunteers are the ones doing the heavy lifting and this gives them an efficient way to do that. Most people would rather reach out to a handful of people they actually know than plaster their neighborhoods and spam their Facebook feeds,” said Travis. It had been the cost-benefit numbers that won him over.

“We’re still going to do all the conventional media buys we’d been planning on, and we’ll blanket the airways, especially in the swing states, but this kind of data parsing is a hundred times more effective than knocking on people’s doors and pissing them off by shoving a flyer in their face while the dog tries to tear its way through the screen.” Haven glanced between Walker and the list of names on the screen, unable to hide her smile.

The last option only worked in states with open primaries, but that included Virginia and Ohio. For closed primary and caucus states, they’d simply change the variables and targeting to something specifically relevant to that location and that user. And the best part was with Becca there to help shepherd them through it, the captains on the group could tailor the information to suit their specific needs and target goals. It was better than she’d imagined.

“It’s the difference between spending the day making cold calls as opposed to working with a list of already hot leads. More time spent with high-quality interactions and less time spent working on it overall. So less volunteer fatigue.” Justin met her gaze and she could tell he’d already started working through the logistics of implementing the program on the ground. There was no reason to wait before she let him loose with it. He’d be the one to turn the vision into real-world results.

“Work out a travel schedule that maximizes your priorities. Becca’s going to go with you,” she said to Justin.

He held her gaze for a moment and she read anticipation and concern in his expression. She didn’t need to ask to know he was itching to get started. But she also knew without asking that he was worried about what would happen between her and Walker if Justin was out of the picture. He’d been handling most of the one-on-one body work with both of the Walkers. He had to be worried about who would fill the void in his absence and they both knew she didn’t have a reassuring answer.

Beside her, Becca sat up straighter and any hesitation she’d had over whether the young woman was up for the trip vanished when she saw the proud expression on her fresh face. The glimmer of idealism made Haven smile in spite of herself. It had been eons since she’d felt that kind of black-and-white optimism. That fact that Becca could still feel it even after what happened to her gave Haven an unreasonable amount of hope.

“We’ve got five days before you’ve got to be back in Wisconsin. After that, we’ll keep the team working on this a couple of days ahead of the campaign primary schedule.” She paused for a moment, mulling the idea over for a few seconds before committing. “Abby? Would you be willing to go with the team? Assuming the senator can spare you?”

Unless she’d badly misread the other woman’s interest, she wanted to be part of the project and she was brilliant with logistics. After this first trip, Abby and Becca could probably handle things without Justin, freeing him up for the delegate wrangling that was becoming more important every day.

Abby glanced between the screen and Walker, clearly torn. Haven hadn’t paid much attention to her hero worship lately. She’d assumed it had abated, but from the looks of it, Abby’s feelings for the senator were as strong as ever.

“Go,” he said, clearly sensing the problem. “Justin’s going to need someone to keep him in line.”

“Nice.” Justin gave Haven the
can you believe this guy
look and she stifled her laughter. “It’s a scurrilous lie, but I’d be happy to have your help.”

Abby looked conflicted, but curiosity won out, at least for the moment. “I’d like that.”

“Great,” said Haven, pushing her chair back from the table.

H
AVEN’S PHONE DINGED WITH WALKER’S text, letting her know he was waiting in the car out front. She closed the door to the hotel room that served as a substitute apartment and hurried through the lobby and out the front door. The hotel wasn’t exactly homey, but there was laundry service and maid service. And she had a tiny kitchenette with a microwave big enough to heat leftover take-out and a mini fridge full of Diet Coke and peanut butter cups she’d overpaid for at the convenience store next door, all of which put the accommodations leaps and bounds above the campaign bus.