The Housewife Assassin's Ghost Protocol (17 page)

“Yes,” Shelley admits. Still, she’s smiling as she adds, “But not everyone has your GPA combined with your stellar extracurricular record, and such extensive knowledge of what Berkeley’s bioengineering department has to offer.”
 

She sounds sincere. Considering my reason for being here, I wonder how much of it is an act?
 

I also wonder what coerced her to sell intel to the Quorum. The intel gathered from her cell phone would have given Acme those answers. I’ll have to figure out a different way to get to it.
 

I think I have my answer when Dr. Wollstonecraft hands Evan her business card. “This is my private email. I’d be interested in the experiment you mentioned, on the memory games you performed on the dogs.”

Hearing this, Evan’s smile broadens. “It was a blast to do. Of course, it scared the heck out of my dad. He didn’t understand why I built such an extensive kennel in the backyard.”

She looks around at the room. “Is he here with you today?”

Evan’s face loses all color. “Um…no. He’s no longer with us. Nor is my mother. I’m here with one of my guardians.” He beckons me over. “Professor Wollstonecraft, this is Donna Stone…I mean, Craig! Donna, this is Shelley Wollstonecraft.”

As I hold out my right hand, I initiate the app that releases the Trojan.

Now, all I need to do is keep her talking for the next four and a half minutes…

“It’s a true pleasure to meet you,” I exclaim fervently. “I have to apologize for missing the tour, but if it gave the two of you a chance to know each other better—”

“Excuse me, Dr. Wollstonecraft,” her assistant interrupts loudly. “Mr. Courtland is on the phone for you. He says he’s called your cell phone several times already. He insists on talking.”

Is it Todd Courtland? I wonder.

Shelley frowns. “Oh! …I’m so sorry, Mrs. Craig. If you’ll excuse me. Evan again, a pleasure.” She hurries off.

I look down at my watch: less than two minutes, darn it.

Evan chatters happily all the way to the car: about the department’s state-of-the-art lab, its most recent grants, and its cutting-edge research in neuroscience.
 

“What was that about some science project with the dogs?” I ask him.

“It was something I tried the summer of ninth grade—before Mom got the bug to run for the presidency.” He frowns at the thought. “I trained the three dogs to play with a toy mouse. Afterward, I trained them to attack it.”

“Interesting concept. What was the purpose in it?”

He shrugs. “I was trying to understand hate.”

“Were you successful?”

“In making the dogs hate the mouse? Unfortunately, yes—with two of them, anyway. The third dog refused to hate his. Before I could figure out why, Mom had made her decision to run for the presidency—and to give the dogs away. She said I wouldn’t have time for them once the campaign season started.”

Evan has so much to forgive Catherine for.

I wonder if he’ll ever quit hating her.

When we land at LAX, Mary, Jeff and Jack are already waiting for us in the passenger pick-up zone. They jump out of my van, and in no time we are enveloped in a group hug.
 

When I lift my head, I realize someone is missing: Trisha. “Where is the little one?”
 

“Still at her sleepover.
You’ll
want to pick her up later this afternoon.” His emphasis on the word “you’ll” is delivered with a smirk.

“Sure I will,” I respond coolly. “Care to go with me?”

As the kids jump into the car, he shakes his head adamantly. “Been there, done that. I’ve got the emotional scars to prove it. Her double-entendres and lascivious suggestions bordered on sexual abuse.”

“I’m sure you sidestepped it admirably. What I’d like to know is how close you had to get in order to upload the Trojan virus.”

He shudders. “Too close. Since when does crying on someone’s shoulder include a quick squeeze of his junk?”

“You’re telling me she had the nerve to—”

“I kid you not.” He raises his hand in a pledge. “I had half a mind to ask her to share her prognosis with my proctologist so that I can skip this year’s physical.”

I’m still laughing as I get into the front passenger seat.

From the rear-view mirror, I notice that Mary is holding Evan’s hand. Even before we hit the 405, they are in deep conversation regarding his take on the Berkeley tour.
 

Hearing Dr. Wollstonecraft’s name, Jack’s eyes shift to. “All is not lost,” he murmurs.

“Pray tell,” I implore him.

His shake of the head indicates I’ll get my answer later.
 

Instead, he glances in the rearview mirror. His eyes fall on Jeff, who is deep in thought. “You’re awfully quiet, young man. Is all this the talk about college admissions giving you food for thought?”

Jeff looks up. “What? …Oh! No. I’m just…” He shrugs. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

Jack smiles. “After we drop you kids at home, we’ve got to swing by the office, but we’ll certainly be home by late afternoon if you want to bare your soul to me then.”

Jeff shakes his head. “I’ll need another day on my, er, analysis.” Whatever is on his mind, it’s no joking matter.

“Will you be able to follow up with Dr. Wollstonecraft on your experiment?” Mary asks Evan.

“Yes. It’s somewhere in my boxes of things stored in your garage. I can dig it out.”

“Better sooner than later, so that you’re fresh in her mind,” Jack warns him.

“I’ve only got a print version. Should I send a copy by mail?” Evan asks.

“No, via email,” Jack suggests. “We’ve got a scanner at the house. Give it to us before we leave, and we’ll turn it into a PDF file and drop it onto a thumb drive, so that you can email it to her.”
 

Twenty minutes later we are home. Another twenty and Jack and I are scanning Evan’s report and the accompanying photos while he writes his cover letter thanking Dr. Wollstonecraft for her time, and summarizing the attachments.

“Fingers crossed,” Evan declares, as he hits the send button on his email program.

I wait until we’re back in the car before leaning over with a thank-you kiss for Jack. “It was kind of you to help him with his follow-up message to Shelley.”

“It’s not all altruistic. I have an ulterior motive, which you’ll hear when we join Ryan and the others.”

“As long as it helps Evan’s cause, I’m game.”

Given the grimace on Jack’s face, I may be asking too much.

Chapter 9

Funeral Arrangements

It is said that one of the saddest days in your life is when you have to make funeral arrangements for a loved one.

However, if your feelings for the departed are at best “meh,” here are some shortcuts you should feel free to take:

First, don’t let the funeral director talk you into an expensive casket. Suggest cremation, and tell him you’re passing on the expensive urn. To make your point, take a mason jar with you and leave it there.
 

Next, keep the eulogy short and sweet. The deceased’s name, rank, and serial number will do. If his crime toward anyone is part of the public record, feel free to read it out loud, so that if the victim is in attendance, they’ll feel vindicated. In fact, expect him to break out into a happy dance.

And finally, don’t invite everyone the deceased may have known. Just a few close friends and family will do. If you’re lucky, they’ll feel the way you do about him, and will conveniently have something more important to do that day—like spend the day with someone who made them laugh instead of grit their teeth.

Ryan, Emma, Arnie, and Abu are already in Acme’s conference room when we arrive.
 

We barely have time to take our seats before Ryan tersely declares, “We’ve got clearance on FLOTUS and Rudy Wells.”

“We still have to clear POTUS,” Abu points out.

“I have to pick up Trisha from Lion’s Lair. In fact, I plan on doing so when we leave here.” I sigh. “Sorry, Ryan, that I didn’t get to upload the Trojan on Shelley Wollstonecraft’s cell.”

Ryan tilts his head, stymied. “Sure you did. It was just activated.”
 

I shake my head in wonder. “But…how?”

“When you mentioned you missed your opportunity with Shelley’s phone, I attached the Trojan to Evan’s email to her,” Jack admits.

“Apparently she opened it, because we now have access to her photo archive, which is linked to her cell phone as well,” Arnie explains.

I glare at Jack. “Look, I certainly understand what’s at stake here, but if it rings any alarms with the school’s cyber-security support, it will affect Evan’s application for admission to Berkeley.”

Arnie waves my fear away. “Donna, come on already! Heck, I’ve cracked the White House. I can certainly slip by a few academic coders.”

Jack takes hold of my hand. “Donna, I know I should have discussed it with you first, but the opportunity fell into our laps. As our mission leader, I had to take it.”

“Great, then. Considering that Dr. Wollstonecraft is now in the clear, I’ll let you explain it to Evan if it blows up in his face.” I rise. “I need to pick up my daughter.”

“Don’t you mean
our
daughter?” Jack mutters.

“You’re right. She is our daughter. And once again, we are using her childhood close friendship to promote a mission. I get it, Jack: it’s a necessary evil. Still, it doesn’t make it any easier.” I walk away so that the others can’t see my tears.

Ryan follows me out. “Donna, I know you’ve always hoped to separate your personal and professional lives. I’m sorry it hasn’t always worked out that way. But I also know you’ll never jeopardize the success of a mission because of it.”
 

He’s not just saying this to appease me. Only recently I learned that Ryan was once married. When he revealed his government-sanctioned double life to her, the thought so repulsed her that she put herself in danger, and paid the ultimate price: her life.
 

When I learned of Carl’s duplicity, I had the same response, with a different result: I joined Acme to avenge him.
 

Still, on a daily basis I play hide-and-seek with death.

He knows I’ll get what Acme needs, one way or another.

The security detail at Lion’s Lair are so accustomed to seeing the Donna-mobile that they never look twice when I hand them my ID, and in fact reward me with the shadow of a smile. They know me as a friend of POTUS.
 

In reality, I’ve been on both sides of that particular coin so many times that I’m no longer sure of this myself. I have to admit I’d prefer he turn out to be the man I hope he is—if not for our friendship, then certainly for the sake of our country. I guess clearing him of the treason committed in the Oval Office is the best way to show my friendship to him.
 

I just hope he doesn’t catch me in the act.

He is there to greet me at Lion’s Lair grand entrance. He smiles warmly, and his posture is relaxed. As he helps me out of the car, he also pulls me in for a chaste kiss on the cheek.

“California agrees with you,” I reply.