Authors: Kathryn Le Veque
“I’d like
you to meet Hunter.”
He nodded.
“Then I’d love to come,” he said. “As soon as I’m done with Russ, I’ll be
over.”
“Good,”
she said, settling back in the seat with a sigh as he took off from the red
light. “Hey, did you see Senator Dane come back in? He came in right after you
left.”
Colt
nodded. “I did,” he said casually. “Did he come back to your office?”
She
nodded. “He said he had a question about next week’s environmental meeting with
Director Marcia Woods from the department of the interior. He wanted to know
if I had an agenda yet and I didn’t. He could have just emailed me. I don’t
know why he had to come back.”
Colt was
careful in his reply; having seen Dane through the window of Casey’s office,
speaking with her, he seriously wondered if she was going to mention his
reappearance. Not that he didn’t trust her, but the truth was that no matter
how crazy he was about her, he was just coming to know her. He wasn’t going to
say a word about Dane’s return because he wanted to see how she would handle
it, if she would tell him about it or if she would just keep it quiet. The
fact that she brought it up spoke volumes of her honesty and he was deeply
relieved and deeply impressed.
“He came
back for the same reason I would have come back,” he said quietly. “He wanted
to see you again.”
Casey
sighed faintly, looking over at Colt as the man took a left hand turn. “If he
does it again, I’m going to have to say something,” she said softly. “I’m not
comfortable with him just dropping by like that.”
Colt
shrugged. “Be careful,” he said. “He’s a powerful senator. You don’t want to
make an enemy.”
“I don’t
want to encourage him, either. That’s disrespectful to me and to you.”
He smiled.
“Angel, don’t worry about me,” he said. “I know you can handle Dane. If it
looks like he’s stepping on my toes, I’ll let him know. Don’t worry about it.”
She
reached out and grasped the hand that rested on the gear knob. Colt held her
hand tightly.
“You know,
I was thinking something,” she said as she looked out the window.
“What?”
“Thanksgiving
is coming up in a couple of weeks. Do you already have plans?”
He shook
his head. “I took a shift to let one of the guys with a family have the day
off,” he said. “I’ll be working.”
“Oh,” her
face fell. “I was… well, I was hoping you could spend it with us but you
probably spend it with your parents, right?”
He looked
over at her. “Not usually,” he said. “I’ve worked Thanksgiving for the past six
years to let those with families have the holiday off. I can’t think of
anywhere I’d rather spend the day than with you.”
She
smiled. “You’ll have to fight Brody and Hunter for the turkey legs. They
snatch them first.”
He
wriggled his eyebrows. “I’m a little bigger than they are,” he said. “Maybe I
can hold one of them off.”
She
giggled and clasped his big hand between both of hers, caressing his fingers.
“What about Christmas?” she asked softly. “If you’re not doing anything, you
can come to my house.”
He smiled
at her. “I’m already there.”
She smiled
brightly and he brought her hand to his lips, kissing her soft fingers. They
held hands in warm silence the rest of the way to the Children’s Medical
Center, where Colt came up to Brody’s room to see how the boy was doing. Brody
was eating lunch, allowed a hamburger, which he thought was crappy, so Colt
took fifteen minutes to drive down the street to a burger joint and bring the
kid back a real burger. The gesture scored big points with both Mom and Brody.
But he did
have to run, unfortunately. His men had already set up a security net at
Andrews but he needed to get over there, so he bid Brody good-bye and pulled
Casey out into the hallway with him, giving her a juicy kiss and words of love
before departing for the elevators.
Casey
watched him go, her heart swelling with adoration for the man. She still
couldn’t believe how the past couple of weeks had panned out for her. She felt
like she was living a dream every single day, with Colt Sheridan right in the
middle of it.
Life was
good.
The doctor
decided that Brody was well enough to go home, so Casey called her sister about
an hour after Colt left because she knew he’d be in the middle of preparations
for the President, whose plane was landing any minute. So she called her
sister to come and take them home, and although Riley pretended she wasn’t
thrilled with the request, she was secretly glad she had an excuse to get out
of work early.
The nurses
were helping Brody get dressed to leave while Casey stood at the nurse’s
station and went over Brody’s at-home care with the doctor. As she and the
doctor reviewed the medication schedule for Brody for the next ten days, the
television overhead was blaring frightening pictures. It was muted so there
was no sound, but there were pictures of Air Force One, the President, men with
guns and ambulances. Someone finally looked up, saw the chaos on CNN, and
turned on the sound.
Casey
could hear the faint chatter of the television but she wasn’t paying attention
until one of the nurses softly exclaimed ‘oh my God’. Then, the doctor
casually looked up, noticing that most of the staff had come to a halt and was
watching the television. Because he was looking up, Casey looked up. Then,
she saw it.
‘
Assassination
Attempt’
blared across the bottom of the images. Casey’s eyes widened as
she demanded someone turn up the volume. Shocked, she listened to the rather
breathless reporter talk about shots fired at Andrews Air Force Base, aimed at
the President.
Shocked,
she ran into Brody’s room to grab her cell phone, calling Maggie. Maggie
picked up on the fourth ring, rather upset, but she didn’t know anything more
than what the news said. No one seemed to, but the west wing was in chaos and
Casey told Maggie that she would be there shortly. Hanging up, Casey went to
dial Colt’s number but stopped herself, knowing the man would be extremely
busy. Shaken, she went to call her sister to find out where the woman was
when Riley suddenly walked into Brody’s room.
“Hey!”
Riley nearly shouted. “I heard on the news that….!”
“I know!”
Casey cut her off. “I have to get to the White House. Give me your keys.”
Riley
plopped her car keys in her sister’s hand as Casey rushed to Brody and kissed
him. “Sorry, baby,” she said. “I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I’ll see you
at home.”
“Wait!”
Riley grabbed her. “How are we supposed to get home?”
Casey was
already running out of the door. “I’ll send a town car or a taxi over,” she
called as she headed down the hallway. “Get Brody home and stay with him,
please?”
Riley just
nodded, waving her sister on as the woman jumped onto an elevator and
disappeared. She felt some anxiety for her sister, for the situation in
general, but she pushed that aside because Brody, who was very sensitive, was feeling
some apprehension. She didn’t want to the kid to worry.
Distracting
him with talk of going home, her mind was nonetheless with her sister and the
very frightening situation at hand.
Casey
arrived at the White House in record time, parking her sister’s car in the
customary parking structure and practically running across the street to the
west wing. The White House was on heightened security as she was ushered on
through the north entrance. Still running in four inch heels, she raced into
the lobby of the west wing, which was full of uniformed secret service agents.
She
recognized several of the men, agents she’d become familiar with over the
months. The agent who had delivered flowers to her the previous week met her
as she came to an exhausted halt.
“What
happened?” Casey panted. “I came as fast as I could.”
The young
agent shook his head. “The cabinet is convening in a few minutes,” he grabbed
her arm and pulled her along. “They’ve been looking for you.”
Casey
trotted after the agent, down the twist of corridors to the cabinet room. The
first person she saw was Vice President Anthony Peck. At forty-nine years old,
he was bespectacled and balding, but extremely sharp and amiable. He balanced
out Russ’s election ticket nicely with his Ivy-League education and calm
demeanor in contrast to Talbot’s fast-talking cowboy image. Peck turned to
Casey as soon as she came through the door.
“Casey,”
he stood up and went to her. “I’m glad you’re here. We’re going to need help.”
Casey’s
heart was pounding from both anxiety and exertion. “Anything I can do, Mr. Vice
President,” she said. “What happened? Nobody had told me anything.”
Peck
sighed sharply. “It’s coming to us in pieces, but from what we know so far,
Russ was shot at by an airman we have yet to identify. He’s stationed at
Andrews and took six shots at Russ before he was subdued. He’s in Secret
Service custody right now.”
“Oh, my
God,” Casey breathed. “Is Russ okay? Was anyone hurt?”
Peck
nodded. “Russ wasn’t hit, but Tracy was,” he said. “So was the new Special
Agent in Charge – what’s his name – Sheridan? He was apparently hit when he
threw Russ onto the ground and shielded him with his body. From what we heard,
he was still able to get Russ into the Presidential limo and on to safety. That’s
dedication.”
Casey
suddenly felt like she couldn’t breathe. She grasped at a chair to steady
herself, struggling against the explosive grief that was bubbling up inside of
her.
“He… he
was hit?” she swallowed, laboring to keep her composure. “Is it bad?”
Peck was
distracted by more cabinet members entering the room. “Bad enough,” he said.
“We heard he was hit in the neck, but we don’t know for sure. The President is
at the hospital with Tracy and that’s all we really know right now.”
Casey was
starting to feel woozy. “How bad is she?”
“She took
one in the belly,” Peck replied, now completely distracted by the cabinet
members filling the chamber. “Gentlemen, take a seat. We need to get started.”
As Casey
struggled not to cry, Peck’s cell phone suddenly rang. He looked at the caller
I.D. and answered swiftly. “Russ,” he said as he picked up. “How’s Tracy?”
Everyone
in the cabinet room seemed to freeze, knowing that the Vice President was
speaking to the President. But Peck suddenly looked over at Casey as if she was
the only one in the room.
“Okay,
keep us posted,” he said. “Casey? She’s right here. Yes, I’ll make sure.
Okay. Just let me know what you want me to tell the press; we’ve called a
press conference in a half hour. What? Sure. Okay, let me know.”
Peck hung
up the phone and pointed at Casey. “The President wants you at the hospital
right now,” he said. “He’s sending a Secret Service car for you. Go out front
and wait for it.”
Casey
didn’t even question him; she just nodded her head and stumbled out of the
room, heading for the lobby of the west wing to wait for a car. She was trying
so hard not to cry that she was starting to hyperventilate, but she saw Lisanne
as she neared the lobby entry and tried to avoid her. It didn’t work.
“Casey,”
the young girl ran up to her. “Did they tell you what happened?”
Casey
nodded, swallowing the massive lump in her throat. “I’m heading to the hospital
now,” she said tightly. “I can’t tell you what they told me, not until it’s
formally announced.”
Lisanne
was looking at her face, carefully. “Are you okay?”
Casey
nodded, trying to breathe and calm down. “I’m fine,” she lied. “It… it’s just
been a busy few days with Brody’s accident and now this. I guess I’m just a
little worked up.”
Lisanne
stroked her arm comfortingly. “I know,” she said. “You call me if you need me
to do anything for you, okay? They had me shut the switchboard down because
it’s going crazy.”
Casey put
her hand on Lisanne’s arm. “There is something you can do for me,” she said.
“Brody is being discharged from the hospital but I took my sister’s car. Can
you please send a car over to the Children’s Medical Center to pick them up and
then call Riley and let her know? Tell her I had to go to Walter Reed where the
President is.”
Lisanne
nodded. “Sure,” she said. “Anything else?”
Casey just
shook her head and Lisanne fled. Casey came to a halt at the entrance to the
west wing, trembling as she waited for the Secret Service escort. The cloudy
day turned to rain and still she stood there, wondering if Colt was dead or
alive, trying not to let her anxiety overwhelm her. She was a bundle of nerves
just waiting to pop. As she stood in the mist, waiting, a black Dodge Charger
roared up.
Peter was
behind the wheel. He rolled down the window, waving Casey over. “Get in,” he
told her.