by T K Eldridge
Cullen looked up at his brother, the water bottle twisted in his fingers. “Alright, I’ll do it. I’ll talk to Jeanine and I’ll take the job as your co-President. I appreciate you wanting me at your side, Connor.” Hand outstretched, Cullen waited for Connor to shake. Instead, Connor rose to his feet, came around the table and tugged his brother up out of his own seat and into a hug. “I love you, brother. I’m glad you’re coming back to where you belong.”
Cullen hugged Connor back and grinned. “Love ya too, punk. Come on, let’s go tell Em and see if Joel’s around so we can tell him he’s finally getting what he wanted.”
Connor smirked as he shoulder-bumped Cull. “Still don’t know how she puts up with you.”
“Me neither,” Cullen replied. “Me neither.”
Chapter 14
On the private jet, the trip back was a bit different than the one to Dublin. Ryan’s ashes were in an urn, packed with the luggage while his ghost hung out with the team. Kian was still in Ireland for a few months until he could be judged safe to fly home for more rehab. He was healing and working hard to be ready for the fancy prosthetics PLEA promised him.
Everyone had expected to stop in New York and drop off Connor and his assistant before heading on to Boston, but Edmund had sent a message asking them to come to DC for a few days first. He wouldn’t expand on why he needed them there, but when the President asks, one does their best to make it happen.
Emlen curled up against Cullen and fell asleep for most of the trip. He gently nudged her awake when the captain announced the approach to Andrews.
“Buckle up, love. We’re about to land,” Cullen said.
Emlen’s fingers fumbled with the buckle for a moment before it clicked and she settled back in the seat. Cull handed her a warm washcloth and she used it to wipe the sleep from her eyes and clean her hands. “I wonder what happened that Edmund couldn’t tell us over the SAT phone or through the classified servers. I’m wondering if it has something to do with JJ,” Emlen said. “I dreamt that JJ was out and causing trouble – okay, had a nightmare that he was out.”
Cullen reached for her hand and gave it a light squeeze. “If JJ got out, PLEA would have been alerted.”
“True. Okay, that helps,” Em said, gaze settled on Connor across from them. “I’m glad you’re working with Connor again, and doing something you love.” She lifted Cullen’s hand, still clasped in hers, and kissed his fingers. “Having something that challenges and fulfills you is important. Something outside of what you and I share.”
“Knowing I’ve got a secure position for as long as I want it, helps. I will admit I was wondering how I would be able to effectively contribute when the kids got here.” Cullen raised a hand to stop her from interrupting. “Yes, I know you’re an heiress and neither one of us needs to work, but I was raised to take care of myself and my family. I need to feel I’m doing my part – and this position with PLEA allows me to do that.”
“I understand,” Emlen said. “And I’m also glad that it’s forced you to make the changes you needed in order to heal. I need a healthy, stable partner to raise these magical twins we’re about to have.”
Cullen leaned in to kiss her, hand caressing her belly. “You, and they, deserve the best and I’ll do what I can to deliver that.”
The plane bumped to a stop and the crew bustled about. Once all the belongings were collected and the door opened, a pair of Secret Service agents boarded, showing their ID. “Ambassador O’Brien, Mr. and Mrs. O’Brien, the President has sent an escort to bring you to the White House by helicopter. The rest of your entourage will be driven to Mayfield. After your meeting and dinner at the White House, you are all invited to stay at Mayfield until you depart for home. Is that acceptable?”
The three O’Briens nodded and took a minute to shuffle papers and bags so they had everything they needed. Emlen made sure Ryan’s ashes would be secured at Mayfield, and the three moved to follow the agents down the stairs and across the tarmac to the waiting copter. Conversation was minimal during the ride, even with headsets, with everyone wondering what warranted this level of rush and secrecy. They landed on the White House lawn and took golf carts to the residence entrance. Edmund and Patrick were waiting with hugs and refreshments, not addressing the reason for their presence until the agents had left the room.
Emlen sat her cup of coffee down and gave Edmund a look. “President or no, you’re still my uncle and I’m telling you, this unplanned side trip has us all imagining the worst. What the hell is going on?”
Tina shimmered into visibility in the room and gave Emlen a smile. “Hey, Em. Glad you’re back.” Before Em could say a thing, Edmund looked at Tina. “Hello, Tina.”
Everyone went silent except for Tina, who chuckled. “Yeah, he can see me.”
“Um,” Emlen started. “It seems Edmund can see ghosts now, too.” Em shook her head and turned to Edmund. “Okay, you can see ghosts. But why has that warranted us coming here instead of you just letting us know?”
Cullen and Connor both moved their chairs closer so they could touch Em and hear Tina.
“Because of what I told him,” Tina said. “JJ has been writing letters, but not mailing them. Yet, they’re disappearing from his room and replies are appearing. Someone is using magic to communicate with him. He writes something, puts it in a clay jar and sets the lid on top. The next day he opens the jar and pulls out a different letter.”
“Well, hell,” Emlen muttered. “Did you see who was writing to him?”
Tina nodded, “The only thing I saw was the name “Peter”.”
“Peter Wolfe,” Connor said.
“Who is Peter Wolfe?” Tina asked.
“The man responsible for the attacks we’ve suffered while in Dublin,” Cullen replied.
“And the man responsible for the E street explosion here in DC,” Patrick added. “Whomever he is, he has a real hatred for both the Order and the Garda, or PLEA now.”
“Well, magic or no magic, if he’s writing letters, he has to touch the paper, correct? Prints are prints. I think it’s time we grabbed one of those letters and found out who this Wolfe really is,” Connor said.
“Cullen and I can go visit him and while I’m talking to him, Cullen can grab a letter,” Emlen said.
“That’s probably the easiest way to do it. Bring Tina and he can talk to her again. It will keep him engrossed enough that I could toss his whole room and he wouldn’t notice,” Cullen said.
Emlen looked to Tina. “You okay with that?”
“Sure. After being around him all this time with no way to smack him for his stupidity, I’d love to be able to actually connect for a few,” Tina said.
Patrick chuckled, “Don’t bloody him too much. They’d blame Em and Cull.”
“Hell, I’ll take the blame if you break his nose,” Cullen muttered.
“Yeah, let’s not. I don’t want to give birth in prison,” Emlen retorted and everyone chuckled.
“Okay, so what is the procedure for going to visit?” Connor asked.
“I’ve already told them to expect a visit from family tomorrow morning. That way we can have dinner and you can go to Mayfield and rest. The facility is closer to Mayfield than here, that’s why I’m not asking you to stay here,” Edmund said.
“Food sounds great. I’m starving,” Em said and Cullen laughed.
“Well, you are eating for three.”
“Wait…three?” Edmund stared at Emlen. “You’re carrying twins?”
“Yes, a boy and a girl,” Emlen said.
“Well, congratulations. Now put your feet up and I’ll let the chef know we’ll be eating in the dining room up here so you don’t have to walk too far. Do you need some water?” Edmund started to fuss and the others laughed.
“Relax, Edmund. I’m perfectly healthy, just a little tired from the flight. I’d like to wash up and brush my hair before we sit down for dinner, if that’s okay?”
“Of course, of course. I’ll just…” E
dmund trailed off. Patrick gave him a hug, saying. “Breathe, she’s not having the babies now and she’s fine. We’ll soon have two to spoil, so start shopping. I’ll show her where the bathroom is located.”
“Thanks, Pat,” Em said as she got to her feet and grabbed her purse.
Soon they were all seated around the cozy table in the family quarters. Cozy for the White House residence sat ten people in a room decorated with some of Edmund and Patrick’s things mixed with White House antiques and treasures. Emlen couldn’t stop looking around the room until the first course was served and the scent of the rich soup reminded her how hungry she was.
“I can’t get over how beautiful this place is. Isn’t it weird, living in a museum?” Em asked.
“It feels like home most of the time, but sometimes it catches me up and I realize I’m living in the same house Lincoln lived in. Then it’s weird,” Patrick said.
“Now that I can see them, it gets to me when I’m walking down a hallway and Willie Lincoln’s ghost jumps out at me. Or President Harrison, President Taylor or Mrs. Wilson start a conversation while I’m on a conference call. Harrison’s the worst for that. He’ll just start talking and I have to mute my phone and ask him to please wait because I’m speaking to others. He doesn’t understand because he can’t see anyone else in the room,” Edmund said.
“Oh, right. Because he died before the telephone was invented. He died in 1841 and Bell got the first patent in the 1870’s,” Connor said.
“My brother, the purveyor of random facts,” Cullen teased.
“That’s the truth, though,” Edmund said. “When I explained to Harrison how the phone worked, he kept trying to look under the desk for the people I was speaking to. It would have been funny if I weren’t trying to talk to eight people and two interpreters.”
Laughter and good food filled the evening and soon the travelers were settled back at Mayfield, sleeping the sleep of the jet lagged.
* * *
The trip to the facility where JJ was living took only about twenty minutes from Mayfield. He’d been moved, for security reasons, to a private location with enhanced protection provided by PLEA and the Secret Service. What had once been a retreat for a rich family now held a selection of cottages where the staff and their patient lived in pastoral comfort.
They were checked through the gate and wound up the mile long drive to eventually stop at a stone house with a dark green metal roof. Faint smoke curled from a chimney at one end and wide windows boasted dark green shutters and white trim. A covered porch held a pair of wicker chairs beside a table and a few potted plants. The guard standing under the porch overhang at the top of the stairs disrupted the image of domestic bliss. Cullen helped Em out of the car, then nodded to the guard. The agents that came with them stepped up onto the porch and spoke to the guard before one moved to the other side of the porch entrance. Another opened the door and went inside while a third walked around the back of the building and took a position at the back door. The one inside came back out and nodded to Cullen and Emlen, and only then did they go up the steps and into the house.
The furnishings were simple and comfortable, fitted to the country cottage theme without being overly feminine. JJ sat on the sofa until he saw Emlen come in and then he leaped to his feet.
“Emmy, oh I’m so happy to see you,” JJ moved to give her a hug and Em stepped back.
“No, I don’t think so,” Emlen said.
JJ kept moving forward and Cullen stepped in his path. “My wife said no. Back off.”
JJ smirked. “Wife. Right. You married her the same day my brother in law married his pet.”
Emlen stepped around Cullen and slapped JJ in the face. The agent stepped one pace towards them and Cullen waved him back. “I think she’s done.”
JJ snarled and stepped back. “If she touches me again, shoot her.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen. The shooting, I mean,” Emlen said as she reached out and grabbed his arm. Tina stepped up to JJ and smacked him in the back of the head so hard his head snapped forward.
“What the actual fuck, Johnny? Are you completely off the rails?” Tina screamed at him. “She’s carrying your goddamned grandchildren and you’re going to threaten to shoot her?”
“Grandchildren, plural?” JJ said and then he laughed. “Figures. Bitch is going to have a litter.”
Cullen snarled and reached for JJ, but Emlen pushed him back. “Don’t, he’s not worth it.”
She kept her hand on JJ’s arm and pushed him down to the couch. “Sit there and do yourself a favor and only speak when spoken to.” Em then perched on the arm of the chair and looked up at Tina. “Okay, you’ve been haunting this dickhead since he lost his mind in the State of the Union Address, now’s your chance to say all the things you’ve been holding back.”
“Wait, she’s been following me since then?” JJ started to get up and Em pushed him back down. “Sit there and behave or I’ll have the agents handcuff you to a chair for this.”
“You can’t treat me like this. I am your fath…”
Emlen lifted a finger and arched a brow. “Yeah, don’t try that one on me.”
“You can’t treat me like this, I was the President.”
“Yeah, you were. Because you murdered the last one. Then you went crazy, so yeah, shut up.” Tina said. “Unless I’m asking you to answer a question.”
The agent snorted a soft sound of laughter, then calmed himself when Em gave him a look.
Cullen left the room and went into the bathroom. Once he was certain JJ was focused on Tina, he slipped out and went into the bedroom. The clay jar was on a bookcase and he went right to it and opened it. Inside was a folded up letter, so Cullen grabbed his handkerchief and reached in to pull the letter out. A shake of his hand opened the paper enough to see that it was a letter to JJ. He sealed it in a baggie, put it in his pocket, then closed the jar. He spent a few more minutes searching and found a stack of letters under the mattress. He used the handkerchief to pick up the whole stack and there were a lot of them. Too many to stuff into the baggies he had with him. Instead, he took a hand towel out of the bathroom and folded the letters up in it, then stuck them under his shirt in his waistband. Back in the bathroom, he flushed the toilet and ran some water, then came back out. Cullen gave Emlen a thumbs up and stepped out of the house. Back at the SUV, he got the agent standing near the vehicle to take custody of the towel-wrapped letters and put them in a sealed bag, then took the sealed one and wrote the time, date, and case info on both. Chain of custody was crucial in any case and Cullen didn’t want to damage the letters by sweating on them.
Tina paced back and forth in front of JJ, fingers curled into fists. “I want to just keep hitting you until you get brain damage that might make you a decent human being again, but I know things don’t work that way.”
“And that would make you more like him. Not worth it,” Em said.
“I never beat up a woman,” JJ started. “I always treated…”
“No, you paid someone to kill your pregnant wife and unborn son. You paid someone to try and kill Emlen when she was a toddler and ended up killing her mother. You’ve killed more people than I can keep track of and you want to argue that you never personally hit a woman so it’s okay?” Tina would’ve been spitting in his face if she were alive, her fury putting her within inches of his nose.
JJ lifted a hand and Emlen lifted hers so Tina disappeared. “Watch yourself, asshole,” Emlen warned him. “Tina, step back.” After a moment, Em put her hand back on JJ’s shoulder. “Try that again, JJ, and this conversation is over.”
Tina was across the room, arms folded under her breasts. She glared at JJ and then started to speak. “You stinking piece of shit that once was my brother. Tell us about Peter Wolfe.”
JJ’s expression went from antagonistic and cocky to pale and terrified the moment he heard that name. “Wh…who?”
“Peter Wolfe. You know, the guy you’ve been exchanging letters
with for however long,” Emlen said.
“I don’t get mail here. Not that isn’t checked by the guards and such first. I’m not allowed.”
“Right,” Em said, then turned to the agent. “Go get it.” The agent turned and went into JJ’s room, then came out with the clay jar. “Care to revise your statement?” Em asked.
“That’s just some decorative thing. What are you talking about?” JJ said.
“Oh, so it’d be okay if the agent over there dropped it?” Tina said.
“No, it’s probably an antique. Don’t drop it,” JJ turned to look at the agent. “Just put it back.”
“Naw, I think it would look great in my den. Since you’re family and all, I think I’ll take it home. Hand it over to the agent outside to put in the car, would you?” Em said. The agent walked toward the door and JJ bolted to his feet. Em grabbed his hair and jerked him back around, shoving him face-first into the sofa, a knee in his lower back. “Bring your cuffs over here, would you?” she asked the agent. He set the jar on a table and brought his cuffs over, fastening JJ’s hands behind his back before propping him back upright on the couch. JJ was cursing and spluttering the whole time until the agent put his hand on his gun and glared at him. Only then did JJ quiet down.
“Smart man,” Emlen said, voice low. “You’re only alive on my tolerance right now, so I suggest you answer the questions. Who is Peter Wolfe?”
The agent handed the jar out the door to the other agent who set it into a bubble-wrap lined box and put that box inside a lead lined case in the back of the SUV.
JJ looked from Emlen to Tina and started giggling. The giggling turned into full-blown laughter before Tina moved closer and slapped his face. “Johnny, snap out of it. Who is this guy?”
Tears from the laughter were running down JJ’s face as he coughed out. “Brian. He’s your beloved Brian.”
Tina looked horrified and then angry. “That’s not funny, Johnny. Brian was killed. I saw him in the car when it blew up.”
