She doesn’t know that we’ve already figured out that Kyle isn’t here.”
Lorraine said, “We’d better get going then.”
“Right.” Steven used his cell phone to dial the number of the Commission pilot who had flown them to Denver as they walked out the door. “We’re heading to Albany, New York. Fuel the plane and file the flight plan. We leave in half an hour.”
Barbara dropped her change into the pay phone and dialed the cell phone number her escort in Denver had given her for Peter. The phone was picked up on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Peter, it’s Barbara.”
“Everything okay?”
“So far. Your friend picked me up and took me to the hotel where I checked in using my credit card. I checked out forty-five minutes later, he picked me up, and handed me a plane ticket back to Albany under an assumed name, along with a new driver’s license and credit cards.”
“Good. Where are you now?”
“At the airport waiting for the flight. They should be calling it any second. Want to tell me what all this was about?”
“You just helped confirm that Kate is in Denver.”
“Let me guess, Kate isn’t anywhere near here, right?”
“Right. You bought us more time. Thank you.”
“Any time. What are we going to do when they figure out they’ve been had?”
“I’m hoping it’ll take them a while longer. One step at a time. Do you think anyone followed you to the airport?”
“No. Your friend was quite competent. He managed to distract the one agent in the lobby while I went out a side exit.”
“Good. Barbara?”
“Yes?” She could hear his hesitation.
“Never mind, I’ll tell you when you get home.”
“O-okay. Well, they’re calling my flight. I’d better go.”
“Stay safe. I’ll call you tonight to check in.”
“Right. See you, Peter.”
Peter hung up the phone, holding it to his chin thoughtfully. He wanted to tell Barbara about Jay, but instinct told him to wait. He felt badly because he knew she’d be upset with him when she found out, but he’d have to deal with that later.
The Value of Valor
He opened the car door and got out, checking the house number again. He rang the doorbell and waited. It was several moments before he heard footsteps shuffling inside.
“May I help you?” a muffled voice asked through the door.
“Mrs. Conrad? I’m Peter Enright, a friend of President and Mrs.
Hyland.”
“Oh, dear. Do come in.” Mrs. Conrad, a frail-looking elderly woman, opened the door to admit Peter.
He noticed that she clutched some used tissues; her face looked red and puffy. “I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am. I’m looking for your husband. Mrs. Hyland sent me; she’s a little worried.” His voice trailed off as Mrs. Conrad began to sob uncontrollably.
“I-I’m s-sorry; I can’t seem to stop myself.”
Peter waited for her to gather herself. “It’s okay, ma’am. Take your time.”
“Y-you’re a dear. C-come in and sit down, please.” She motioned for him to follow her.
When they were seated in the living room, Mrs. Conrad said, “I’ve just had a visit from the police. They found Ben. H-he’s dead.” She began to cry again.
Peter went in search of ice water. “Here, drink this. You’ll feel better.”
“Thank you. You’re very kind.”
“Can you tell me what happened?”
She nodded, blowing her nose loudly. “Ben went to the hospital like he always did—it was the day the president died. I called him on the phone when I saw on television that the president had collapsed. Ben said he couldn’t talk because he was on his way to the emergency room to meet the ambulance.” She looked up at Peter, agony etched in her face.
“That’s the last time I saw or heard from him.”
“What did you do when he didn’t come home that night, Mrs.
Conrad?” Peter asked gently.
“I called the hospital to see where he was. They told me he’d been called away.”
“Did that seem likely to you?”
“No.” She shook her head vehemently. “Ben would never have left knowing the president was in trouble.”
“Okay. What happened next?”
“When Ben still wasn’t home hours later, I got worried. So I went to the hospital. No one could tell me where he was. His car was still parked in its normal space, and his keys and briefcase were in his office. It was very odd.”
“Did anyone try to stop you from going in his office?”
Lynn Ames
“No. Anyway, I went home and called the police.”
“They came to the house?”
“Yes, they came and took my statement and filed a missing person’s report.” She sniffled. “That was the last I heard from them until today.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Conrad. What did the police tell you about your husband’s death?”
“They said…” she stumbled over the words, “…they said he apparently overdosed on d-drugs.” She began rocking back and forth.
“My husband has never touched more than an aspirin in his entire life.”
She looked at Peter beseechingly. “Not my Ben, it couldn’t be.”
“I’m sure you’re right. Where did they find him? Did they tell you?”
“Rock Creek Park.”
“Well, I’ve taken up enough of your time. I’m so sorry to have bothered you.”
“I’m sorry I’m such a mess.” She blew her nose again as she rose.
“It’s perfectly understandable. You take care of yourself.” Peter let himself out the front door.
He narrowed his eyes as he got behind the wheel of his car. He needed to have a chat with Dr. Englert; he also needed to call Mimi Hyland and inform her of Dr. Conrad’s death. Somehow he had to convince her to leave the investigation to him—he suspected any more questions from her might garner her some rather unpleasant attention.
The last thing he needed on his plate was to have to worry about her safety, too.
“How is the patient doing?” Wayne Grayson asked as he sat behind his desk facing Dr. Englert.
“As specified, he is conscious but completely immobilized.”
“Does he know where he is?”
“I doubt it.”
“Does he know what’s happened to him?”
“As you requested, no one has talked to him. The only contact he has with anyone occurs when he’s turned to prevent bedsores and skin breakdown. Otherwise, he’s aware when his IV is being changed and when his vital signs are being taken.”
“Good.”
“I take it we are to continue under those instructions?”
“Yes, for now.” Grayson had considered simply questioning Hyland and disposing of him permanently, but the truth was, he was enjoying the man’s suffering. He rocked back in his chair. “It’s a shame about Dr.
Conrad. I understand the police found him dead of an overdose in Rock Creek Park.” He watched Englert’s hands as they trembled slightly.
“Such a waste, don’t you think?”
The Value of Valor
Dr. Englert ran his fingers under his shirt collar—he had never been told that Conrad was to be killed—just that he was to be detained so he wouldn’t be in the way. “Yes. Ben was a fine physician.”
“It’s a tough, unforgiving world out there. You ought to be careful, Jonathan; we wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”
Englert’s voice failed, so he merely nodded as he rose to leave.
When he was gone, Grayson flipped on the television. CNN was carrying live coverage of the special session of the United States Senate.
He smiled in satisfaction; with the exception of the troublesome Kyle woman, everything was going exactly according to plan.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the Senate, it is with a heavy heart that I have called you together for this extraordinary session,” President Wheeler began. “Tomorrow we will lay to rest a great man—a true visionary. Charles Hyland was a giant, and filling his shoes will be no small task.
“I am determined, however, to carry on his legacy—to fulfill the promise of this administration. It is imperative in this time of turmoil and grief that we, as leaders of this great democracy, work together. We must act swiftly and decisively, lest our enemies think us weak.
“I have given much thought and consideration to the next step I must take as your president. The Constitution makes provision, in these unusual circumstances, for the new president to nominate a vice president who shall then be confirmed by this body.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the Senate, I present to you the nominee for the position of vice president of these United States, Robert Hawthorne.”
He waited for the applause to die down.
“In selecting Bob, I have chosen a man who has held elective office, has a strong background in foreign affairs, and who along with me will be an able steward of this country.
“I urge you—no, I implore you—to act quickly to confirm Chairman Hawthorne so that we may move forward with the serious business of running this country. Thank you very much.”
Wheeler looked out at the assembled senators, knowing beyond question that they would quickly approve Hawthorne as vice president.
The president basked momentarily in the glow of his victory before his gaze fell upon his nominee. This was not the way he had dreamed of becoming president.
“Hawthorne.”
“Dad?”
“Emily? Is that you, sweetheart?” His heart constricted, her voice sounded so fragile.
Lynn Ames
“Yeah. I saw you on television being sworn in. Totally awesome.”
“Thanks, honey. Are you okay?”
“Sure, Dad. Well, I just wanted to tell you I saw you.”
“Where are you, Em?”
“It doesn’t matter, Dad. Don’t worry.”
“Emily, if you need anything…”
“Dad, I’m fine, really. I’ve got to go. Bye.”
He dropped his head into his hands.
“She’s fine for the moment, I assure you.”
Hawthorne’s head snapped up at the sound of Grayson’s voice.
“Where is she?”
“Safe and staying out of trouble—for now.”
“If you so much as harm a hair on her head…”
“Now, now, Robert. It is unbecoming for the vice president of the United States to threaten a scion of the business world.” Grayson’s eyes were cold and hard.
“What do you want?” Hawthorne asked through clenched teeth.
“I just wanted to say congratulations and to wish you well, Robert. I know you’re going to make a great vice president—the president and the Senate chose wisely.”
“Cut the bullshit.”
“Very well. I came to make sure you understand what needs to happen.”
“I get it. You don’t need to worry.”
“That’s good. Very good. I’m sure Emily appreciates your competence.”
“I’ll do what needs to be done. Leave my daughter out of this.”
“I sincerely hope we can,” Grayson said as the cell phone in his briefcase rang. “Grayson.” He listened for a moment, then said, “All right. Let me know when you have her.” He turned the phone off and stored it once again in his briefcase. “We’ll be in touch, Robert.”
Barbara inserted her key into the front door and shouldered it open; she was exhausted. Before she could flip on the light switch, a male voice said, “Don’t touch it. Move into the room slowly. Don’t try anything. I can see every move you make.”
Barbara’s heart beat wildly. “Who are you? What do you want?”
“We want to talk to you, Dr. Jones,” a female voice said.
“You could try calling me on the phone or making an appointment.”
“Very cute. We might have, but it seems you’ve been a busy little traveler today.”
Barbara’s eyes went wide in fear. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The Value of Valor
“No? Washington to Denver, Denver to Albany. I’d say that’s a pretty full day, wouldn’t you?”
Barbara said nothing, her mind racing as she tried to think of a way out of the situation.
“What took you to Denver, Doctor?”
“Surely, it wasn’t a ski vacation—you didn’t even stay long enough to get a weather report.”
Barbara’s head swiveled back and forth as she tried to see the faces behind the voices—two male and one female. “I had to see a patient.”
“The patient was staying at the Hilton?” the second male voice queried.
“No.” She felt a cold sweat trickle down her back. “The patient was at the hospital. I thought I would have to stay overnight, so I checked into the Hilton. As it turned out, I was able to take care of the problem in short order and return home.”
“Quick thinking, Doctor. We applaud your inventiveness. But we’re tired of this game. Tell us what we want to know, and we’ll be on our way.”
Barbara bit her lip determinedly. “I have no idea what it is you want to know.” Before she could finish the sentence, she felt the cold, steel barrel of a gun against the side of her neck.
“Where is Katherine Kyle, Dr. Jones?” the first man asked in her ear.
“Her ashes were buried this morning.” Barbara’s arm was bent roughly behind her back; she gritted her teeth, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of making her scream.
“I’m going to ask you one more time. Where is your friend?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.” A hand flitted across her field of vision just before she felt the blow to her cheekbone.
“Killing her won’t get us the information we need,” Lorraine said.
“No, but roughing her up a bit might make her a little less sassy and a lot more cooperative,” Steven answered. “Where is the bitch?”
“I’m telling you—I don’t know,” Barbara panted, as another fist rained down on her face.
“Enough of this, let’s get her out of here,” Paul said. “The Viper can get the information out of her.”
The last thing Barbara heard as she was dragged from her home was the ringing of the phone. She prayed it was Peter and that he would come for her.
Peter let the phone ring again. He’d tried Barbara’s number a half-dozen times already. He’d even called the airline—they’d confirmed that her flight had landed more than two hours earlier. His gut started to twitch.
Lynn Ames
He hung up and dialed another number.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Max,” Peter greeted his friend, Max Kingston, head of the DOCS Certified Emergency Response Team.
“Long time no talk, boss. Heck, the last time I saw you, we were rescuing Kate out at Attica. I’m so sorry to hear about her, by the way.”