“He also fornicates with staff and hookers. I’ve got it from a good source that he likes his agents—a lot.”
The vice president, or acting president, bristled.
Tiegan blushed, and Alfie…she looked like the cranky old hag she was.
“I don’t like what you’re…,” she began.
That was it.
Elizabeth was done.
“Saddle up, boys. We are out of here. I’m not getting jerked around by number two here. I spent the last seven years being screwed over by number one. We are done. Happy hunting,” she said, saluting the president with one very specific finger.
“WAIT!”
Yeah, that showed exactly how desperate he was.
She stopped.
“Just take it easy on her. She and her daughter are really distraught. They were just told their husband and father was killed. She knows why. They both do. The First Lady is not stupid.”
She didn’t doubt that statement at all. She was pretty sure Landry Dean stuck around because the man’s name was attached to the leader of the free world. She was younger, and he was a disgusting, perverted troll. He was fucking anything that walked by him—hookers included.
Yeah, wives were smart, and when a husband was dead, they were first up when it came to suspects—especially if they knew the hubby was practicing infidelity.
“Lead the way.”
“The Secret Service requests you leave your gun…”
Callen laughed loudly at that absurd request by the younger woman. It was clear they were out of their damn minds.
“Oh, hell, no! You abducted my wife, and now, you want us to walk into that building where your crazies are armed and our crazies aren’t? Nope. She’s not walking in there without her gun or any of us. So, if interviewing the First Lady alone is request number two, denied.”
She agreed with her husband.
It was clear they were going to go there next. They actually bristled at his comment.
Good for Callen for spotting that one ahead of time. She’d given them too much credit to even go there.
For the record, she confirmed it.
“We are going to carry. You can take it or leave it. You’ve lost any leverage when it comes to controlling our interview. Maybe you should have thought of this before you abducted me. Had you not, I would have turned my sidearm in.”
He sighed.
“Fine,” he stated. “Lead the way,” he stated, and Tiegan did just that.
No one spoke.
The mood of the whole place was somber.
Inside, she eyeballed every agent who was milling around. When they got to the East Wing, where the First Lady had her office, she left Ivan outside the door.
Not to protect her, but because he’d been saluting fellow Marines. She knew he’d snoop around and get her anything he could while she spoke to the not-so-merry widow.
Inside the room, Landry Dean was sitting there, and she was crying. Beside her, her daughter was there, and she was trying to comfort her mother.
Tearfully failing, but still trying.
“Excuse me, but Director Elizabeth Blackhawk is here to interview you,” Gordon stated. “She needs a moment of your time.”
Landry looked up.
Then cried, even more, the second she saw her. It was a full-on sob fest.
Jesus.
Elizabeth hated interviewing victims’ loved ones. This was exactly why. They cried.
Not only did she feel sorry for them, but it wasted a shit ton of time.
“Madam First Lady, I’m sorry for your loss,” Elizabeth said, taking a seat across from them. Behind the two women, there were two agents. “You can both leave,” she offered, excusing the Secret Service agents.
“Yeah, I’m staying, respectfully,” the younger one said, as he stayed behind Graycie Dean. “I saw what you did yesterday in the carnage.”
Oh, he went there, did he?
Well, that opened it up for her to do the same.
“Yeah, I’m mean like that when I’m held hostage. Go figure. If you’re staying, what’s your name? I like to know who is shooting daggers at me while I try to find the person who killed their loved one,” she said, pointing at the First lady and her daughter.
“Agent Griffin Maloney. I am Miss Dean’s personal agent. It’s my job to follow her around and make sure she’s safe at all times.”
Yeah, whatever.
He’s just lucky he wasn’t involved in yesterday’s mess or Callen likely would show him the door.
Then the wall.
Then the floor—with his face.
“And you?” she asked the man standing behind the First Lady.
“I’m Agent Otto Sawyer. I’m the First Lady’s personal security.”
She made a mental note that this man might be someone she had to interview again.
ALONE.
If his job was to follow her, he would know where she’d been when her husband was getting his face removed by some object.
“Thank you.”
Only, she wasn’t done.
She pointed at Alfie and Tiegan.
“You two definitely get to leave. I want honesty, and I don’t want you driving this bus. I’m crazy like that.”
Both went to protest, and the vice president stopped them from doing so.
“I’ll be here. Allow her to do her job. We need to find this person.”
They headed out.
Once they were gone, the vice president sat beside the First Lady and held her hand supportively.
“Landry, I know this is upsetting, but she’s investigating his murder. Try. We all owe it to Damian to do our best to help her out.”
She wiped her eyes.
“I’ll try, Gordon. You’re right.”
Elizabeth watched them.
They were a tad bit too friendly. She saw the way he soothed her, and she thought about how Chris did that for her. It was tender, gentle, and spoke of something more than just friendship.
Interesting.
She was willing to bet the man had some deeper personal connection to the woman, but what?
“Madam First Lady,” she began, “Again, I’m sorry for your loss. Can you please tell me if anyone, lately, has been threatening your husband?”
Landry focused on her. The second the question was out of Elizabeth’s mouth, her true nature made an appearance.
This wasn’t going to be an easy one.
“Well, you did,” she said snottily. “It’s ironic that you’re investigating his death. Maybe we should ask you where you were,” she stated.
Elizabeth laughed.
It caught everyone there off guard—including the First Lady.
Oh, well, if Landry was going to bring on the bitch from the get-go, so be it. Elizabeth had planned on being nice.
That.
Was.
Done.
“Yeah, well, I have an alibi. I was with my husband, and we left the shindig early. It’s also not my husband who was brutally killed while his wife had no clue where he was a whole day later…”
She bristled.
Yeah, this lady did NOT like her.
Good.
Pissed off witnesses were better in the long run. When they were upset, they lied poorly.
It was time.
“So, where were you?” she asked, pulling out a notebook from her pocket.
“That’s very nineteen nineties. Aren’t you good with tech? It’s simple. Even you could master it.”
She lifted a brow even as the vice president opened his mouth to say something. She stopped him.
“Oh, look. It seems the mourning is over, and the all too merry widow is now in the mood to crack jokes. That’s not suspicious at all. Keep going. It just makes me want to break you even more, and I will. I always do.” Elizabeth looked down at her notepad. “Yep, you’re still number one on my list of suspects. That hasn’t changed.”
She closed her mouth.
“For th
e record, if you’d like to really know why I’m not using my fancy tech, your buddy here, the vice president, doesn’t want this getting out. I personally don’t give a shit. Your husband was a dick. As far as I’m concerned, if you live your life being an asshole, you tend to get what’s coming to you.”
She gasped.
It was totally fake.
Normally, Elizabeth wouldn't go at a victim’s family like that, but she was testing her. She would bet her badge this emotion was phonier than a three-dollar bill.
Elizabeth was good with people, and she smelled that shit-filled truck backing up.
The woman knew her husband sucked. She could tell. Her eyes told it all.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep—went the truck as it prepared to dump its load, but it wouldn’t be on Elizabeth.
She was ready for it.
“I loved my husband. He was a good, decent man. While he was busy upstairs, I was talking to any number of people. I was with the head of the US. Marshals. We were having a pleasant conversation.”
Well, that would be easy to check.
And she would.
It was time to get down to the facts. Since this woman now seemed perfectly fine, she’d go the direct route. Elizabeth wanted out of there.
“Who was he meeting with?” Elizabeth asked. “Since he was your date, and husband, you should know, right?”
“I didn’t get involved with his work.”
“He went upstairs for sex.”
That hung there.
“You’re lying.”
She shook her head.
Only, there were no more tears. They’d miraculously dried-up, and in their place, there was iciness.
That told her all she needed to know.
Landry Dean knew her husband was having an affair, or whatever it was, with someone. Yeah, someone was staying at the top of her suspect list.
“I don’t believe you.”
She didn’t go there. Elizabeth knew the truth.
“Did you hire someone to kill your husband?” she asked, instead, going in for the kill.
It was the daughter who gasped.
“My mother wouldn’t do that! She isn’t that kind of person!” she defended.
Elizabeth stared at her.
“What kind of person is she?” she asked, checking out the young woman. If she was eighteen, she’d be shocked. Elizabeth remembered reading about her.
She was a classically trained pianist at a young age. She was thin, pretty, and clinging to her mother.
“My mom is a good person! She’s kind! She helps people! My mother wouldn’t hurt my father. EVER!”
Landry hugged her child.
“She’s right. I wouldn’t kill him.”
It was time to set them up. The only thing that was genuine in this room was Graycie being pissed at her for accusing her mother of murder.
That was legit.
“You loved him, huh?” she asked Landry. “His death had to come as a horrible shock to you.”
“Yes, I loved him! Of course,” she stated.
Right.
“Callen, I need a lie detector, right now. Someone is shoveling previously mentioned bullshit, and I’m done with it.”
He pulled out his phone.
Her face said it all.
PANIC.
She was afraid.
“I am not submitting to a lie detector. This woman is nothing but…”
“Is a married woman, too, and she knows love when she sees it. You just found out an hour ago that he’s dead, and already, you’re using the past tense for love. Why?”
She squirmed.
“Oh, let me guess. He was the power player, and you liked being in the spotlight.”
“Elizabeth,” Gordon stated.
“Hey! I’m not judging. She didn’t love him. Madam First Lady wouldn’t be the first person who had a marriage of convenience. Now’s not the time to sugarcoat things. If she wants to find his killer, she needs to be honest. If she doesn’t want his killer found, she is on the right path—only, that makes her look guilty as hell. This is going to hang over her for the rest of her life if we don’t close this case.”
She bristled.
“I see why my husband hated you.”
She laughed.
“Yeah, I tell the truth. He wasn’t fond of honesty, and now I’m seeing why you were with him. Neither are you. Well, I can’t do anything here. If everyone is going to lie…”
“She did love my father!” Graycie stated, standing up. “She was always here for him. How dare you judge her? She’s the best mother in the world!”
“Sit!” Elizabeth barked. The girl, and both Secret Service agents, jumped.
She was a mother, too, and she was done with this.
“I am not here to play these games. I am here to find a killer. I don’t give a shit if you loved him, hated him, or thought he was Jesus Christ on a magic carpet. I am here to figure out WHO killed him. Don’t waste my time!”
“I didn’t kill my husband.”
She stared into Elizabeth’s eyes.
“I’ll be honest. I want this over with, and I want his killer found. I know that once this gets out, I’ll be the one who is suspected of it. I had nothing to do with his death.”
“Then let me prove it. What do you have to hide?” she asked, sensing there was something.
Was it the vice president?
Was she sleeping with him?
Something was behind that door, and she just didn’t know what it was.
YET.
“We were not intimate, so I didn’t know where he was. I left the party in the limo, and I was told he was running late with some issue with China. Why wouldn't I believe that? The world is a hot mess.”
Okay, that was the first truth she’d heard from her. The woman was staring into her eyes, she was calm, and she wasn’t bullshitting her.
Elizabeth’s bullshit detector wasn’t going off anymore.
So far, so good.
“So, you left, and you have a separate room.”
“Yes. My husband, since you’re hellbent on knowing, had issues.”
“Like what? Did he like dancing naked in the moonlight with a witch doctor? He couldn’t stop pulling his dick out and waving it around like a flag? What kind of ‘issues’? There are many different kinds.”
“He couldn't keep it up. Well, not with me anyway. So, we had an agreement. I would stay his wife until after his term. We would QUIETLY go our separate ways. Graycie is almost eighteen, and she doesn’t need us to stay together anymore.”
“It’s okay, Mom.”
“See, that helps me. That shows me the real man beneath the job, and that helps me find who hurt him. I don’t want to hurt you, Madam First Lady. I really don’t. I do want to get justice for your husband.”
“WHY? He wanted to break you and fire your husband. He loathed him.”
“Well, because this is my job. Do you like digging holes in a garden with a bunch of kids?” she asked, pointing at her designer duds.
“Not particularly.”
“Then why do you do it?”
“I see. It’s my job. I took it on, and I’ll finish it up.”
That was exactly what Elizabeth was doing. She may have loathed the man, but no one had a free pass to kill people all willy-nilly.
“Now, this next question isn’t to upset you. I have to ask. Who was he sleeping with, ma’am? I need to know so I can find who did this. I saw his body. It was someone who was very angry.”
She closed her eyes.
“Madam First Lady…”
When she opened her eyes, there was nothing but calm, cool resolve.
“Director Blackhawk, you are going to have your work cut out for you.”
“Why?” she asked.
“He slept with everyone. No one said no to him. No one.”
Yeah, and that was going to really suck.
Elizabeth knew the odds.
&nb
sp; And they were NOT in her favor.
Chapter Seven
I t had been an emotionally taxing interview for everyone who was involved. Granted, she didn’t have any ties to the president, but she did have a responsibility to make sure whoever did this paid. That was her duty.
Her job.
Now that she’d interviewed the First Lady, basically beating a dead horse, it was time to get out of there. On the walk out of the White House, Ivan was more than willing to share what he’d learned.
“Why are you smiling?” Elizabeth asked as Ivan had that good ol’ boy grin on his face. It was very telling. Marines were damn good at keeping it neutral.
“What do I get if I have some juicy gossip for you?” he teased.
Elizabeth paused, pretending to think about it for a little bit. Then she smiled.
“I won’t tell Blue you were checking out that hot, young intern in the short skirt.”
He looked horrified.
“There was no intern…”
And then Ivan understood it when she was the one smiling at him.
“Jesus! You’re evil. There is no limit to your viciousness, is there?”
Callen laughed.
“And now you know why we buy her things.”
She snorted.
“Yeah, you both have my number. I’ve been told I’m the Evil Queen. Now, spill it, Quasimodo. What did you find out in there?”
They got into the vehicle, this time, Elizabeth getting into the front so she could talk to Ivan about what he’d rooted out.
“Well, I heard from one of my brothers that Damian and Landry had a huge fight the day of the event,” he stated. “It was over a woman.”
“Who is this coming from?” she asked. “Is it a viable source?” she asked.
“It was a Marine. A lot of them who work here DO NOT like the man. You don’t have to like the person you’re tasked to protect,” he said.
“Yeah, I know. I’m a thorn in your side—or so you tell me every damn day.”
That wasn’t the truth, and he knew it.
“No, you’re actually the best duty out there—well, except that you’re a crazy magnet, and people shoot at you every damn day. I love this commission. I love you.”
She stared at him like he was insane.
“Callen, we have to get to a hospital. Something is wrong with Ivan. They’ve injected him with some virus. He’s acting…human.”
All the King's Henchmen Page 28
