The other problem was going to be breaking the news to Madeline that the enemy was one of her own.
Chapter 21
“The Tonight Show called. They want a follow-up guest appearance. They’re giving you first refusal. If you don’t do it they say they’ll call Madeline Grace,” Rick said after he hung up the phone. He snorted. The phone rang again almost immediately but Rick didn’t answer it. After a while all the ringing phones blended together and Peter found he could ignore the sounds mostly coming from the library where a few people on the financial staff were installed.
“Yeah, sure.” Peter didn’t look up from his morning paper. This article was worse than most. The Chili Fest was covered like it was a family reunion. The nurse was quoted again calling Madeline a manipulating liar. He could afford to remain calm because he had a plan to deal with Nurse Ratched. They would fly tonight, and it was none too soon if he could go by St. Cyr’s latest article starring his favorite blackmailee, Theresa Torini. Peter idly wondered what St. Cyr had on the nurse. But then she could be doing it for money. That would make things trickier. He could guess that was maybe where Mrs. Senator Brown fit in. She had money. But why would she pay? Wasn’t that the mayor’s job? St. Cyr must have something to help motivate her to pay serious money. With these thoughts, his sense of urgency grew. And he still had to deal with Rick. Talk about tricky.
He was still getting used to Rick staying with him at the house. Unlike the others, Rick didn’t go home at night, and here he was at 6:00 a.m. sharing coffee and the stack of newspapers with Peter.
“Maybe you should pose nude to pick up more of the female vote.”
Peter put his paper down and winked at his friend’s attempt to get his full attention. “Now, Rick. You know I have no problem with the female vote—but we don’t want to alienate their husbands and boyfriends, do we? After all—one look and they’d be chasing me like dogs after a ham bone.” Rick’s response was something like a guffaw, Peter supposed, if he tried to describe it. He also supposed Rick was in this lighthearted mood because their poll numbers were up. They’d pulled even with the other party since he won the primary with Marcus in solid as their running mate. More importantly, for Rick anyway, there was a distance between him and Madeline. She was still in the race officially, as an independent candidate. But her numbers had faltered. Badly.
Peter figured that was what pleased Rick the most. Rick’s focus was on party politics, and the opposing party was an opponent he understood how to fight. Conventional political warfare was what Rick did best. That was why Peter put him in charge. That was what Rick wanted.
Peter wondered again what Acer and Sam were doing. He looked at his watch. Bill and Bob would arrive shortly to pick up him and Rick for the first appointment of the day.
They planned to leave for their trip to the Berkshires clinic after an appearance with the state police brass for their official endorsement. It took them long enough, waiting until the eleventh hour with only two weeks left until the election. He supposed that was because they were originally planning to endorse Madeline Grace. She had been a superstar, a veritable idol to the rank and file with her record as a member of the parole board. Her stats were legendary. Even he was impressed. He couldn’t help continuing to be impressed with her, as much as he’d rather not be.
But since the primary vote was over, there was little point in going back over his decision—having second thoughts was extremely unlike him anyway. He had to look ahead. He had to get them both out of this personal and professional quagmire.
It was tougher than ever to get away. He had Sam and Acer at the clinic now scouting and making preparations for their arrival. Benny Chen, the DA for Berkshire County, was on board with the investigation.
They needed to get on with what amounted to a sting operation to uncover the scheme to sabotage Madeline’s reputation, and the toughest part was going to be getting around Rick Racer. He didn’t know how he would get away from the campaign without telling his manager.
While he mulled over whether or not to break the news to Rick now or after it was all over, his wireless rang.
“Hi.” It was Madeline.
“Mad. What a surprise.” He wasn’t sure why, but he wasn’t going to bail her out of her awkwardness.
“Are we all set? Have you got any more information?”
“No need to concern yourself. I’ve been ‘looking into things’ all along.”
“What do you mean?” She sounded put out.
“It’s just as much my business as it is yours. After all, it was my unborn child.” He should have regretted his words the instant he heard her gasp, but part of him wanted to inflict some pain.
Only a small part.
“I’ve got the operation set up. We roll tonight.”
“Don’t try to talk me out of coming with you. I want to confront Mrs. Boyd.” She was all business now.
“You mean Nurse Ratched?” he said. He hadn’t planned to argue with her participation. If anyone could get a confession from the woman it would be Madeline. After all, the nurse couldn’t lie to Madeline, the one person who absolutely knew the real truth—that she never had an abortion.
“Pick one person from your staff to drive you to the rest stop outside of Lenox on Route 88. We’ll meet at 1800 hours.” He paused and she was silent.
“You okay, Mad?”
“Yeah. Thank you, Peter.”
“See you there.” He clicked off. He was not ready for any sappy appreciation. He wasn’t sure what the hell he wanted from her at this point. Right now he didn’t have time to figure it out. It was time to deal with Rick.
“All the papers talked about how graciously you’re handling the betrayal. What a classy guy PJD is to forgive Madeline Grace and not publicly trash her. PJD makes up with Mad is trending on twitter and there’s a big article here about how you two kissed and made up,” Rick said from behind that morning’s Boston Globe.”
“Technically it was only a hug,” Peter said. He kept the disgust from his voice. The picture of the two of them at the Chili Fest had been splashed all over the internet, newspapers and TV.
Didn’t they think he would hate having their most personal lives on public display as much as she did? The last thing he wanted was more trash in the papers about it. It gnawed at his mind in such a constant manner that he expected an image of the inside of his skull would show a little rat inside chewing a giant hole in what used to pass for his brain.
Compared to that, what did a few media pieces here and there matter? He was used to the constant hounding—no matter where he went, no matter what he did, no matter what the agenda. It was the first question he was asked, and often the tenth and the hundredth and the last: “How do you feel about Madeline Grace now?” He wondered how the reporters managed to keep coming back after the repeated rebuffs.
He figured they must be bred for it. He picked up the paper and looked at the words in the article quoting Nurse Ratched.
“Madeline Grace is lying and I have already given the proof. I felt it was my duty as a citizen to expose her as a manipulating liar.” She had said this or St. Cyr put the words in her mouth. He couldn’t guess which was more likely. Neither would surprise him. The other party was reacting with outrage and delighted in playing him and Mad against each other. And here he was playing right into their hands, running with the safe bet, Marcus Thompson.
“Rick?” he said. Rick looked up from his paper, highlighter poised for marking.
“Yeah?” He gave Peter his full attention with apprehension in his voice. It was like Rick had been under a dark cloud waiting for the storm to start. Peter decided to tell him about his plans to go to the clinic to expose the truth. He had to give the man credit for knowing his candidate—really well. Peter smiled and Rick looked really worried.
“I’m calling Sam. We’re taking a trip. We’re going tonight—one night, all night.”
“Something tells me you’re not talking about a campaign trip.
”
“We’re going to the Berkshires to visit a certain nurse—and we’re taking Madeline Grace with us.” PJD stood as he spoke and he was no longer smiling. He was running the plan in his head. He looked at Rick, not really paying attention to the man. He hardly heard Rick when he yelled, although he was aware of it.
“No! You son of a bitch! You can’t do this. You’ll undo everything.” Rick threw his papers aside and stopped talking. Apparently he knew PJD was not listening.
The Mad Road trip
“You didn’t have to come along.” She was talking to Dennis, but from the passenger side of their minivan she looked back and realized she meant Valerie and Jon too. In the end she couldn’t choose only one of them in spite of Peter’s instructions. Morty stayed behind saying he had some numbers to crunch and Sarah said she’d hold down the fort, but she wouldn’t say where she was staying. Madeline didn’t like the fact that her only connection was by cell phone. It seemed as if Sarah was intentionally making herself scarce. And her demeanor… Madeline should have had that talk with her, but Sarah managed to avoid being alone with her for the past few days.
“I’m sure it’s not a good idea for us all to be leaving town,” Madeline said. They passed the sign with an arrow pointing toward Tanglewood. It was too late to be worried about that now. But her biggest worry was leaving Sarah behind.
“What the hell, why not leave town? It’s not like we had to cancel anything—everything was cancelled for us. From the upcoming debate down to the fucking chicken dinners. And fund-raising events—what’s that? I couldn’t book us a PTA meeting right now.” Dennis railed at the injustice.
She needed to keep their spirits up. The only problem was who was going to keep her spirits up?
“Listen, I know it looks bad right now. But we’ll fix it. And if we don’t, it’s not the end of the world—only the end of my political career.” She meant it, and not as a joke.
“For a while anyway,” Dennis quipped and quieted.
“It’s not your fault, Mad. Someone set you up,” Valerie said. “I don’t know if the mayor’s daughter is involved, but she didn’t do us any favors. The articles featuring her latest interview dropped like a stink bomb sinking our numbers and PJD’s, according to the scoreboard this morning. The only thing worse than us losing would be if PJD lost too and the other party got in.” She voiced her concern with such force it was as if she’d been holding in her darkest fears and now that all might be lost, she let it out.
Madeline hoped to God they would uncover the fraud and she could regain some of her credibility. It had been a struggle this past week. She’d been watching PJD’s name on the scoreboard now, unable to do a thing about how low her numbers had sunk.
“Maybe we should have gone on The Tonight Show again. That could have been your last chance to redeem yourself,” Dennis said. His face looked dark and grim. Madeline realized he didn’t believe this escapade was going to do them any good. Possibly do a lot more harm if it backfired. She couldn’t argue with him on that point.
“Shut up, Mr. Traitor. Your leaving was probably half the reason she lost credibility.” Valerie was not kidding around. Dennis stepped on the brakes and pulled over. They were somewhere near the Berkshires, so it wasn’t as dangerous as it might have been at six o’clock on a Monday evening in late October.
Two short weeks before the election.
Dennis turned to her instead of facing Valerie. “You shouldn’t have gone along with this crazy scheme. It’s not too late to call him and tell him you’re backing out.”
“It is too late, Dennis. Besides, I threw myself at his mercy and asked for his help. But not for the sake of this campaign.” She stopped short of saying more.
“So where is he? He’s probably sent us on a wild goose chase. This entire plan is ridiculous. We’re out here in the middle of nowhere and he’s probably out campaigning,” Dennis said.
“Of course he’ll be here,” Madeline said.
“I don’t see him, do you?”
“Yeah, I do,” Jonathan said. Dennis shot a dagger look at him and Madeline frowned.
“Don’t be cute, Jonathan,” she said.
“No, really.” He peered out the back window. She heard the door slam of an unmarked van that had stopped behind them.
“Is everything all right, ma’am?”
She jumped at the unmistakable voice and twisted back around to find a man in dark glasses and a serious face staring at her through her window. She felt the grin split her face and a giddy feeling of relief filled her. She realized that Dennis’s cynicism must have gotten to her. But who could blame them for wondering whether Peter would really do this? After all, he and Marcus Thompson were off and running, having left her in the dust since the Forum speech. This was not a smart political risk for him to take.
“No, sir. I’m being harassed by these unruly people,” she said as she opened the door and got out.
“What the hell?” Dennis was not happy.
“Problem, McBain?” The man who suddenly appeared at his window, asked without politeness.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Sam. We’re on this treasure hunt together.” Sam glanced in the window at her crew and they stared back at him like a bunch of kids at the zoo seeing a tiger up close and personal for the first time.
Peter looked around at the abandoned gas station that Acer had chosen for their rendezvous point. It would do. Punching in the number for the local DA, Benny Chen, on his wireless, he left a short text message for the man to let him know they were in town. He looked at Mad as she stepped hesitantly toward him with a no-holds-barred smile lighting her face. She looked damn good dressed in black. He only nodded at her and leaned in the window to address McBain. It annoyed him that McBain was the wheelman. That was too important a job for him. He’d have picked Jonathan.
“Pull it around back.”
“What?”
“You got a hearing problem?” Sam told Clever Dennis from the other side. If PJD didn’t know better, he’d say Sam was enjoying giving Mr. Slick and Clever I’m-from-the-big-leagues a hard time.
“I was right about you, I see.” Peter pushed Madeline toward his windowless gray van.
“Oh?”
“You don’t follow instructions well. You weren’t supposed to take them all along. I said one man to drive. That’s it.” He wasn’t really angry. He glanced at the very unsure look on her face. Man, was she out of her element. She looked like a six-year-old at a whorehouse.
“They’ve been with me this far. I couldn’t choose who I should leave behind.”
“They all wanted to come? Can’t buy loyalty like that.” He smiled his most cynical smile and shoved her in the van as the door slid open.
Morty sat there with headphones on in front of an LCD screen wired to numerous metal boxes.
“Morty!” Accusation was unmistakable in her voice. Peter almost regretted the crack about loyalty when she wheeled around to glare at him. It was a neat trick in the confined space of the low-ceilinged van. Acer, his pal, stomped on the gas so that he and Madeline lurched backwards, falling into the same seat.
He grabbed her, instinctively wrapping his arms around her to protect her from the jolt with his body. He caught his hip on the edge of one of the whirring metal boxes and didn’t bother wincing, figuring this would be about as rough as this mission was going to get.
Which wasn’t so damn bad after all, as he found himself seated with Madeline in his arms and on his lap. She turned to him with a startled look and he didn’t bother to hide the sudden shot of lust that hit him. She opened her mouth as if she would speak but could think of nothing to say.
So he kissed her. He grabbed onto her lips with his while they were there for the taking, knowing the timing was all wrong, knowing she wouldn’t be okay with it with so much unresolved between them. What the hell was his last coherent thought before he lost himself completely in tracing his tongue over hers. They still had this c
hemistry no matter what else they lost along the way.
For about one second it mattered that Morty and Acer were throwing speculative glances their way, and then the sensation of Peter’s lips crushing hers and the velvet touch of his tongue finding hers made their friends seem utterly irrelevant. Her heart jumped with a palpitation when he grabbed a fistful of her hair to pull her mouth tighter, and she felt the exquisite sensation of their mouths fused and hungry for each other. The moist cushion of his lips and her tongue running along the sharp edges of his teeth became her world. At least for a fleeting time before the uneasiness set in.
She raised her arms around him and struggled with the conflict between her wariness about his intent and her desire to be closer. It would have been physically impossible to get closer without being part of him.
The van pulled to an abrupt stop, and they pulled apart. Her surroundings popped back into focus. Morty and Acer were still there and still watching. Madeline felt herself actually blush. She should not have let herself indulge in kissing in front of these people when she couldn’t explain her relationship with Peter to herself let alone the friends surrounding them. What was wrong with her? But even if she was confused about her feelings, there was one thing she was sure of as she sat on his lap. And that was that he was aroused, never mind that it wasn’t like him to be anything but completely under control. At least they still had this chemistry.
He was in on this mission to be with her as much as any other reason. And he was with her, all right. Sam had been ballistic about the notion. Sam figured he could have handled the entire operation on his own, right down to the media announcement. Peter sighed. Nothing was that simple. This plot was personal, so they were getting him in person. It just so happened that Senator and Mrs. Brown had a second home nearby. That was no coincidence. That warranted a visit. He convinced Benny Chen to work with him, keeping his role in things quiet until they knew what they had. Benny was a good man, but PJD would owe him for this. It shouldn’t be too hard. He was ninety percent sure this was not a professional operation. Based on the info they got from Theresa, it was most likely a bunch of amateurs playing games. But it wasn’t one hundred percent clear yet. He’d promised Benny that it was bound to lead to a major feather in his cap either way. He would deflect the credit to Bennie Chen in exchange for the paperwork to cover for doing whatever he had to do tonight. This was easier than a typical mission for him.
The Scotland Yard Exchange Series Page 29
