A More Perfect Union

by Carsen Taite

  The shuttle stopped to let someone out, and Zoey kept her eyes trained on Rook who was fully focused on the headstone in front of her. In the distance, the crack of rifle shots pierced the weight of silence. She flinched at the unexpected sound, and Rook did too. In that moment, Zoey felt the kinship of loss and filed the image of Rook, standing next to a grave, looking lost and alone, under things they had in common. The realization was strangely comforting.

  Chapter Ten

  Zoey pushed through the door of her office, acutely conscious of Dixon on her heels.

  “We need to figure out a way to keep Bloomfield’s son out of this,” he said, his voice a grating burr.

  She ignored him and sat down behind her desk, the universal position of power. When they’d left the White House that morning he’d been itching to talk about their approach, but didn’t dare for fear their fellow passengers on the Metro would listen in. Now, it was like he’d been lying in wait for her to get back to the office so he could share his ideas about how the investigation should go.

  “We’re not figuring anything out. We’re going to make sure Roo—Ms. Daniels and her team have whatever information they need to conclude their investigation so General Bloomfield can put this behind him as quickly as possible.”

  Dixon studied her hard for a moment, but she didn’t flinch, hoping he couldn’t read any of the raw emotion she still felt after seeing Rook at Arlington less than an hour ago. He nodded slowly as a smile crept across his face. “I get it. You’re right. The quicker we get them out of here, the better.” He looked at his watch. “I’m going to grab some chow. You want to come with?”

  “No,” she answered quickly, relieved he had misinterpreted her response. She softened her tone. “I’m good. I’ll meet you back here at two.” She was starving, but she’d rather go hungry than forego the opportunity for a break from Dixon’s chattering.

  She sent a quick email to Lieutenant Louden, to confirm he’d have a conference room ready later that afternoon. An hour wasn’t nearly long enough, but it would have to do. What she needed was a time warp to take her back to before she’d met Rook, before she’d become attracted to her, because that was the only way she was going to be able to focus on the task at hand.

  How had her worlds collided? She’d honestly thought that night at the park was the last time she’d see Rook again. The idea hadn’t been unreasonable—DC was a big city and they didn’t run in the same circles. Hell, she didn’t have any circles. Truth was she’d experienced a moment of relief when she’d spotted not one, but two familiar faces at the White House, but Julia and Rook were not her friends, no matter how friendly they might seem. Something was off about this whole thing, and Zoey was convinced Rook’s involvement meant there was more to the whole McNair scandal than she’d been told.

  She reached into her desk and pulled out the notes she’d made while reviewing the file. Lieutenant Donald “Donny” Bloomfield and three of his fellow officers had been suspended from the graduate program and brought up on conduct charges at McNair after a bust at a venerable luxury hotel in Maryland. Hotel security, responding to complaints from other patrons, had kicked Donny, his pals, and the girls out without contacting the police. But the room had been registered in Donny’s name, and it was probably just a matter of time before the press figured out Donny Bloomfield was none other than the well-known general’s youngest son. While the simple fact the general’s progeny had been tossed from a fancy hotel would be embarrassing, it wasn’t a career-killer for anyone involved. But when reporters started asking questions and found out high paid escorts were at the party, things would get sticky.

  Zoey flipped through the pages but didn’t find much else. In her view, the White House’s decision to hire Rook was overkill. You don’t flash a lot of cash if you’re trying to act poor, and you don’t hire the biggest gun in spin if you don’t have anything to hide. She might not possess the same skill set as Rook, but she knew how to conduct an investigation and she knew how to keep a secret, despite what many of her peers might believe. She supposed Rook might be helpful if they wound up having to navigate DC politics, but this entire case was nothing more than an embarrassing incident that should be handled internally.

  Even as complicated as things could get, Zoey had to admit she was looking forward to seeing Rook again. Spotting Rook at the cemetery had spurred her curiosity and given her a glimpse of Rook’s vulnerability—a far cry from the commanding presence Rook displayed in public. If she had a chance, Zoey was going to try to peel back some of the layers behind the very public persona of the charming Rook Daniels, but for now she needed to focus.

  Zoey finished looking through the file and then pushed it aside and rummaged in her bag for one of the PowerBars she usually kept on hand. Banana. Not her favorite flavor, but she’d been down to the last ones in the box and she’d jammed this one in her purse as she rushed out of the house this morning. Her alternative was to wander the halls looking for food, but she didn’t want to get lost with only an hour until her meeting with Rook, and Dixon would be back before that. She tore open the wrapper and bit off a hunk of the protein-filled wonder. She was still chewing when the knock sounded on her door.

  “Come in.” Annoyed that Dixon hadn’t waited the full hour, she didn’t try to hide the exasperation from her voice.

  Lieutenant Louden poked his head in. “Sorry to bother you, Major, but Rook Daniels is here for your meeting.”

  Zoey looked at the clock on her computer and back at Louden. Rook was an hour early. She was all about the motto that early was the new on time, but this was crazy. Suddenly, she wished Dixon were around to act as a buffer because she had no desire to wind up alone in a room with Rook. Or did she? “Thanks, Lieutenant, tell her I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  Louden cleared his throat and pushed the door open a bit farther. “Sorry, Major, I guess I wasn’t entirely clear. She’s here, as in right here.”

  Zoey looked past his shoulder at Rook’s face and barely resisted the urge to tell him he should’ve led with that information. Damn. “Come in, Ms. Daniels.” She started to dismiss Louden but mentally calculated how long she’d have to deal with Rook on her own and had an idea. “Lieutenant, where’s the closest place to get a sandwich?”

  “Food court.” He used hand gestures to give her directions. “If you get lost, just ask someone along the way.”

  She had no intention of asking anyone in front of Rook, so she hoped his instructions were as easy as he said. After she dismissed him, she stood up. “I’m starving. Come with me to get something to eat.” She didn’t wait for Rook to respond and instead took off walking down the hall. This was the perfect opportunity to set some boundaries and assert her authority, and as long as she didn’t get lost, it might work.

  The choices in the food court were all waist-thickening nightmares of the fast food industry. Making a mental note that she needed to start bringing her own lunch, she scanned the menus for the least stroke-inducing item and finally settled on a salad with grilled chicken and vinaigrette dressing.

  “Is that all you’re having?” Rook asked after Zoey placed her order.

  “Yes. Are you eating?”

  “I’m…No, thanks.”

  Zoey took the paper cup the clerk offered and started to turn toward the soda fountain, but instead she focused on Rook’s face. No familiar grin or knowing looks. Rook seemed tired, subdued and Zoey imagined what she’d witnessed at the cemetery had something to do with her current state. She started to ask, but decided the one question would lead to many. She settled on a simple, “Are you okay?”

  “What?” Rook asked before shaking her head. “I’m fine. Let’s just say this isn’t my favorite building in the city.”

  Zoey stared a little harder, convinced there was more to it but didn’t want to push. Her mission didn’t involve learning more about Rook’s feelings and it certainly didn’t involve soothing them. The personal peeling of layers would have to wait until a
more opportune time. Still, she felt a little rude for eating in front of Rook. “I guess I should have asked you before we headed down here, but if I don’t eat, I can’t be responsible for my actions.”

  “I hear you.” Rook flashed a hint of a grin. “One of my associates is the same way. I keep her desk stocked with candy bars for that very reason.”

  Zoey picked up her tray of food and led the way to an empty table. “How many associates do you have and why aren’t any of them here with you?”

  “Five, including George.” Rook fiddled with a napkin, rolling it between her thumb and forefinger. “They’re all working on various projects, and I haven’t had time to fill them in on this one yet. Besides, I figured I could handle the first round of interviews on my own.”

  Zoey looked around. She didn’t need a security breach on her first day, but she didn’t see anyone seated close enough to overhear their conversation. “You think we’ll need to interview them more than once? I was under the impression they’d already been interviewed extensively by the MPs who investigated the initial complaint.”

  Rook’s brow furrowed. “The MPs only interviewed the students from McNair, not anyone else.”

  Now it was Zoey’s turn to be confused. “Who else would they interview?” She shook her head. “Never mind. Dumb question. You mean the escorts, right?”

  Rook’s puzzled expression remained. “I don’t think they’re going to let you parade a bunch of call girls in here. I mean the other officers who’ve been visiting Svetlana and her pals.”

  Zoey’s head swam and she desperately wished she was better at hiding her surprise. Rook wasn’t making fun. A girl named Svetlana was mentioned in the report she’d reviewed—probably not her real name—but she didn’t have a clue what Rook meant by “other officers.”

  “You’re looking at me like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

  Zoey took a bite of salad that tasted closer to cardboard than the real thing. She stubbornly chewed to the end, preparing to square off. “Maybe you should take me at face value. What officers are you talking about?”

  Now it was Rook’s turn to look surprised. “They sent you to the White House without being fully briefed?”

  That wasn’t the point, and Zoey was annoyed that Rook was trying to push the issue. “Will you just tell me and spare the lecture?” She instantly regretted the outburst, but not more than she wanted answers.

  “Someone prowled around in the,” Rook glanced around to see if anyone was listening, “working women’s records and found they have other uniformed customers who aren’t students, and a good many of them work right here in this building. After we talk to your graduate students, we need to start interviewing the higher-ups to see how far this goes.”

  Zoey sensed a storm brewing. She’d rather be on the hot seat in front of the full Senate talking about Nine Tech and whistle-blowing on her pals than dealing with a sex scandal that might cost a four-star general a White House post.

  “You had no idea?”

  Rook’s voice was gentle, caring, but Zoey couldn’t help thinking it strange a civilian knew more about a scandal that was supposed to be dealt with internally than one of the military officers assigned to it, and the idea made her angry. She was being irrational, because it wasn’t Rook’s fault, but she didn’t even try to rein in her anger. “No, I didn’t. Unlike you, I don’t spin things for a living, so if you get information from me, it’s going to be the truth and nothing but. Understood?”

  Rook held up both hands, palm side out. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. I promise not to be the one who shuts you out of the loop. Okay?”

  Zoey spent a moment rolling Rook’s promise over in her head, but the syntax left her wondering if someone was indeed trying to shut her out of the loop and why.

  * * *

  Rook looked at her watch. She’d only been at the Pentagon for two hours and it already felt like twelve. The three officers they’d interviewed so far had ostensibly acted like they were happy to cooperate, but they all said the same thing. They didn’t know anything about anyone else who’d used the services of Lorraine Darcy Inc. To a man, none of them had a specific recollection of how they’d found the name of the agency, but they were pretty sure they remembered seeing an ad online.

  Of the men who’d been at the party, the only one they hadn’t talked to yet was General Bloomfield’s son, Donny. She was saving him for last on purpose.

  “Any more questions, Ms. Daniels?”

  She looked up at Zoey and saw only cold indifference reflected back. The lieutenant in the hot seat right now looked like he was about to piss his pants, and Rook doubted he actually had any new information to offer. Maybe when he left the room, she could get Zoey to tell her why she was giving her the cold shoulder. Yes, Rook had abandoned their one and only date, but she’d had an excellent reason. Besides, Zoey didn’t seem like the type to harbor a grudge. Maybe she was still mad about being left out of the loop regarding the depth of the investigation, but Rook didn’t get why she was the one bearing the brunt of her anger.

  Whatever it was, she’d have to wait until Dixon left to get to the bottom of it. He’d been hovering all afternoon. He was trying to read her notes right now, and she hoped he got an eyeful from the doodles she’d sketched of a naked woman lounging by the beach—something she wished she were doing. Her reliable memory meant she didn’t need to take notes, but she always pretended to since it gave interviewees the impression she’d never forget what she’d been told.

  “No, Major,” Rook said. “I don’t have any more questions.” She waited to see what Zoey would do after she’d dismissed the soldier. Now that they’d finished with the students, it was time to start down the list of higher-ranking officers Rook had given her, a much stickier subject, especially since Zoey hadn’t been fully briefed.

  “Major Dixon, please go check with Lieutenant Louden about the records I requested and see if Colonel Mitchell is available now for his interview.”

  Dixon responded to Zoey by pointing to the phone on the conference table. “The operator can connect you,” he said, his tone barely hiding derision at her authority. Zoey didn’t even look at the phone. “I’d rather you ask him in person,” she said, waving a hand toward the door. “Thanks.”

  Dixon stood in place for a moment, clearly taken aback by the dismissal, but well-trained enough not to disobey a direct order from a more senior officer. “I’ll be right back,” he muttered as he left the conference room.

  “That guy hates that you have seniority.”

  “I guess that’s it. Maybe he just doesn’t like me.”

  “As if. How long have you been stuck with him?” Rook asked.

  “The entire time I’ve been here, but it feels like forever.”

  Rook contemplated the vague response and pressed for more. “How long have you been here, exactly?”

  “I started this morning.”

  “Kind of a lot for a first day. Sudden reassignment?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Nothing.” Rook tapped her fingers on the table. It wasn’t nothing. Had Zoey known she was going to be transferred to the Pentagon a couple of weeks ago, and if so, why hadn’t she mentioned it?

  Zoey read her mind. “I didn’t tell you because I was asked not to mention it at the time.”

  “Orders?”

  “A good soldier always obeys them,” Zoey said, a smile playing over her lips.

  “And you’re a good soldier?”

  “So I’m told. Now, do you have anything else you want to ask me before Dixon gets back?”

  Rook was torn between formulating a strategy for interviewing the officers that had been mentioned in the Darcy Agency’s files and taking the opportunity to confront Zoey about the shift in her mood. She settled on a compromise. “I suggest we take up the rest of the interviews tomorrow, but you have dinner with me tonight so we can formulate a plan.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” />
  Zoey was probably right, but Rook couldn’t resist the urge to spend some time alone with her. “You’re just not thinking it through. This place is all about sucking up. What better way to show you’re willing to go above and beyond than to work overtime with the woman hired by the White House to make the military’s problems go away?” She watched Zoey’s face for a reaction, but she couldn’t get a good read and wondered if they taught stoicism in boot camp or was it advanced officer training? She resisted asking. Barely.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to talk about any of this at some restaurant.”

  Rook started to protest but quickly changed tactics. “Agreed. We’ll have dinner at my place.” She held up a hand. “Before you say no, you should be aware that my speed dial is set for all the best DC restaurants.”

  “Not much of a cook?”

  “Let’s just say I’d like you to live to work another day.”

  “Low bar. I might have conditions.”

  “Name them.” Rook was prepared to agree to pretty much anything, in part to get out of this building and away from Dixon’s watchful gaze. Zoey started to answer, but Dixon chose that moment to walk back in, his hulking frame casting a shadow over their conversation.

  “He didn’t have the records, and Colonel Mitchell isn’t available. He said he’d speak to you on his own terms,” Dixon bellowed. “Told you we should have called before I traipsed all the way over there.” He stood between them, staring daggers at Zoey.

  Behind his back, Rook rolled her eyes and watched Zoey struggle to suppress a grin. “I need to get back to my office anyway,” Rook said, stuffing her notepad into her briefcase. “Let’s start up again tomorrow. Major Granger, why don’t you let me know when and where?”