“I can imagine. The president of the United States and the president of Worthington Shares probably didn’t find much time to inhabit the same space.”
“I don’t remember doing anything with Thomas and his family when I was young. But Drew? He’s been around since my earliest memories.”
“He says you Worthingtons are family. I don’t think he’d ever let anything bad happen to you on his watch.”
“No, he wouldn’t.”
“Nor would I,” he said softly. Quickly he added, “I’ve got to go. My editor’s flagging me down with that ‘potential big story’ look in his eye. Talk soon.”
With Jon, there was no guessing. She knew he’d do just what he said.
Her next call was to Drew to take him up on his help. He said he and Jean would contact a couple high-end realtors they trusted and let them start the hunt.
Drew chuckled. “You know Jean. After the realtors do their job, she’ll take a look and narrow the field herself before we pass any choices to you.”
“I know, and I’m grateful.”
After the call ended, she refocused on the attorney general next steps. If she was confirmed on Thursday, she’d likely be sworn in sometime the following week. Then she’d need to move to D.C., a short distance from her finagling and sometimes overprotective family. That might be a bit of a relief. Then again, the Worthingtons stayed in close contact no matter where they traveled.
A thought leaped into the forefront of her mind, startling her. Jon travels to D.C. a lot to report on events there.
She recalled his comment, “Nor would I.”
Had he really said that, or had she imagined it?
21
Jon’s call on Monday morning was short. “I just received a surprise you have to see. Can you get to the Times—my desk—within the next hour?”
“Any hints?” Sarah asked.
“Nope. This one you have to see to believe.”
She was there within 45 minutes.
Jon held a baggie out to her. It was tagged with a note: Check this against Justin Eliot’s suicide note. Run the fingerprints.
“Wow,” she said, “can’t get any clearer than that. I can get it to Darcy on my way back.”
“No need.” He pointed.
An out-of-breath Darcy hustled toward his office. “Hey, I was working on the DNA match. What’s so important that—” She stopped in her tracks when Jon dangled the baggie in front of her.
By Tuesday noon, they had their answer. The fingerprints on the pen were undeniable. It was Jason Carson. A direct match to Will’s crystal-clear recall.
Now Darcy was moving heaven and earth to get a warrant as swiftly as possible for his arrest.
Will was on a call with the CEO of a potential acquisition when Drew walked into his office.
“Sarah,” Drew mouthed, holding out his cell.
Will knew Drew wouldn’t interrupt him on a call unless it was critical. He put the CEO on hold and took Sarah’s call.
“Carson will be arrested as soon as we can get the warrant,” she declared. “He won’t have a chance to see it coming.”
“Well, you certainly have been busy. But arrested for what exactly?”
“A surprise package dropped into our laps. A $700K pen with Carson’s fingerprints on it, and the ink matches that on the suicide note,” she reported.
“Wow. You think you have enough to make it stick against Carson?”
“Yup. But if the little minnow can help us catch the bigger fish, then, depending on how deep the waters the minnow got himself in, he may swim free to cause havoc elsewhere.”
“That stinks, but I got it. And now I have to go back to my other call.”
Drew nodded, looking satisfied. Evidently Sarah had filled him in as well.
Will didn’t know the details, but he knew Drew had been tracking Carson ever since the aborted Senate race, looking for a weak moment. All they needed was one in order to get Carson talking. Drew had said they were close. What Sarah had just learned tipped the balance of the scale in their favor.
On Thursday, the full Senate vote was in—58 to 41. Sarah would be sworn in on Wednesday, the following week, at the Warner Theatre in D.C.
The media flew into a frenzy, swarming the outside of the DOJ office for an official statement from her. She gave a simple one: “I am honored by the American people’s faith in me in leading this department and committed to preserving and pursuing equal justice for all.”
Her supporters ramped up their news comments.
“She’s tough, well-respected, and a veteran in the area of law.”
“Her proven record and significant experience in handling difficult cases says it all.”
“I have no doubt she’ll use the law to protect equality for Americans, since she’s a devoted champion of all the law protects.”
“Even in law school, she worked pro bono and defended the disadvantaged. She can’t be swayed from doing what is right.”
Her detractors didn’t dispute her qualifications or background but took issue with her potential politics and her connection to President Rich.
“She’s part of a wealthy, pro-Democrat family. How can she not be biased in her rulings?”
“She was nominated by Rich. She’ll protect him at all costs.”
“With Rich’s ratings dropping after the AF scandal, she’ll do what she can to support issues that could get him reelected.”
She rolled her eyes. If they only knew what she thought of President Spencer Rich . . .
22
NEW YORK CITY
“Found the perfect place for your sister in D.C.,” Drew announced as he walked into Will’s office Friday morning. “Or, shall I clarify, my wife found it. She’s spent more time with it than I have, so the realtors started calling her.”
“They know where the real power lies.” Will grinned. “But I already knew,” he admitted.
“Jean called Laura?”
“Yesterday, as soon as the vote was announced. Laura filled me in.”
“So you know they’ve settled on a place in the Longwood neighborhood of Bethesda?”
Will nodded. “Laura said Sarah loved the idea, especially since it’s close to the McCrillis Gardens.”
“Sarah’s going to take a look as soon as she gets there this weekend, just to confirm. If she likes it, Jean will handle the details with the realtor and push things along. Sarah will stay at the Ritz in the meanwhile. Jon offered to drive her to D.C. and haul anything she wants to take.”
Will lifted a brow. “Really? You know Sarah. She’ll likely just pick up whatever she needs in D.C.”
“You’re saying Jon really doesn’t need to drive with her.” Drew said it straightforwardly, but Will caught the amusement in his eyes.
“At least not for practical reasons.”
“Oh, but I think he does.” Now the enigmatic Drew was smiling.
Will crossed his arms. “If you have something to say, come right on out and say it.”
“Okay, I will. I think Jon is far more interested in your baby sister than a simple colleague would be. And I think, even if Sarah doesn’t realize it yet, the attraction is mutual.” Drew cocked his head. “That wouldn’t be a bad thing, would it?”
“No,” Will said shortly. “Maybe that’s why it bothers me.”
“You didn’t think Sarah would ever find a guy? Get married?”
“After that jerk of a TV producer, she signed off on dating in general. Said she had more important things to accomplish in life than to be used by some fatheaded, pompous—”
Drew held up his hand. “I get it. You hated that guy. You want to protect your sister.” His tone gentled. “But with Jon, there’s nothing to protect her from. You asked me to check him out long ago, when you first had an inkling that Jon could be interested in her, or vice versa. I did. The guy’s clean. Sterling reputation. Impeccable career. Doesn’t back down in the face of anything. Always does what’s right. As close a match
to Worthington character as I’ve ever seen. Even volunteers with special needs kids.”
Will sighed. “You’re right. I just want my sister to be safe . . . and happy.”
Drew nodded. “Understood.”
A SECURE LOCATION
He’d received multiple calls from the man over the past couple of days. The warrant for Jason Carson hadn’t moved as swiftly as they’d hoped. Finally, the man ordered him to intervene by pulling a few strings.
It was a done deal by 10:00 a.m. He phoned the man to report the news.
“Carson was looking rather squeamish as he was led away.”
“Now they—and we—will get some more answers. If he can fill in the missing pieces,” the man said.
“Then we both know what’s going to happen.”
“But it’s got to happen quietly. No one can know we’re involved—that I’m involved,” the man said. “You know what’s at stake.”
“Leave that to me.”
NEW YORK CITY
Sarah had bid her co-workers good-bye at the DOJ’s Criminal Division that afternoon. No one was surprised by her swift exit. They’d all known the vote was pending. Even John Barnhill, her now ex-boss, had shaken her hand, looked her in the eye, and said, “Nicely done.” It was the closest thing to a compliment the gruff, no-nonsense veteran had ever given her.
It had only taken her 20 minutes to pack up the few personal belongings from her office. It was a strange feeling walking away from the building where she’d spent so many years.
Now, finally, she had the opportunity to return Darcy’s earlier call.
“Carson’s in custody,” Darcy declared with satisfaction.
“Was there a holdup on the warrant?” Sarah asked. “I wondered when I hadn’t heard, but I’ve been too busy to check in.”
“Don’t even want to go there with what I’ve been through to get it.” Darcy’s tone was caustic. “But then suddenly, as if Oz was pulling the strings behind the magic curtain, it came through this morning.”
“So now everybody gets their crack at him—NYPD, FBI, DHS, you name it.”
“Yeah. He’s not going to be sitting comfortably anywhere.”
“At least we might get some answers, even if I can’t technically be involved anymore,” Sarah said.
“Well, unofficially involved person, we’ll still keep you up-to-date on what’s happening.”
She grinned. “I’m counting on it.”
23
Sean was grappling with the financials of a new NGO when his sister called to announce Carson was in custody.
“What took you so long?” he teased.
“What’s taking you so long?” she fired back. “You still don’t have a ring on Elizabeth’s finger. What are you waiting for?”
“Give it a rest, sis.”
She laughed. “You know I won’t give up until I get what I want. What I know you want.”
He knew she was right. What was he waiting for?
But he also didn’t want his sister to know how close she was to hitting the mark. So he employed an age-old technique—he changed the subject.
“Jon is going with you to D.C., huh? How exactly did that happen?”
Sarah was silent for a moment. “Are you implying . . .”
He grinned. “You can dish it out, but you can’t take it, can you?”
“Oooh,” was all she said before she hung up.
Now he knew the interest was mutual. He couldn’t wait to tell Elizabeth.
Will was happy for his sister. He had no doubt she’d be an excellent attorney general. Not that it would be easy, but Sarah never backed down from any challenge.
He was also uneasy. She’d never explained why she was digging more into Frank Stapleton and his son, Philip. Will hadn’t pushed her. Only he and Drew knew that Stapleton was behind trying to take the Worthingtons down, but neither could prove it.
Will hated it when his hands were tied, and when his sister was potentially pursuing an angle that could get her in big trouble.
Maybe this career move was exactly what they all needed—to distract her from the Polar Bear bombing case and get her out of harm’s way.
Late evening, Darcy called Sarah again to report on Carson’s interrogation.
“Started with the song and dance of ‘Sandstrom made me do it or I’d lose my job.’ Basically the same info he’d given when he blew the whistle on the $25M quid pro quo.”
Sarah cut in. “Which doesn’t get us anywhere, with Sandstrom already behind bars.”
“Carson said Sandstrom didn’t like Will pushing for more research before AF moved into the Arctic. When the fiasco happened, he was convinced Will would use it to take over AF, rallying the board and shareholders around him. Sandstrom was shocked when Will just walked away. But that didn’t solve the problem, with Sean and Jon being eyewitnesses in the Arctic. When news leaked of what was really happening, the president went ballistic on Sandstrom for making him look bad. Loughlin threw a fit when Will decided to run for Senate and cashed in his favors with Sandstrom. Sandstrom told Carson it was time to take care of the Worthington problem.”
“So that’s when they set up Sean,” Sarah reasoned.
“Yep,” Darcy said. “Sandstrom handed Carson a name and address and ordered Carson to hire some guy—who we now know was Justin—at an underground show. All Justin had to do was show up at a local bar, have a few drinks, and chat with the guy they described to him. Carson gave Justin a disposable cell for contact. He also hired a photographer to hang out at the bar and paid a woman a couple hundred bucks to act like she was an executive assistant for one of Sean’s clients and set up a meet via phone. As soon as Sean left the bar, Carson met the photographer and picked up the photos.”
“What about the backpack?”
“Sandstrom asked Carson to pick up a package and contact Justin again. Carson claims he only saw Justin one more time—to deliver the backpack and instructions in a sealed envelope. Says he showed up at the apartment to pay Justin, but he wasn’t there. So Carson left the envelope inside the apartment.”
“Let me guess,” Sarah said. “Carson claims he didn’t know the contents of either the backpack or the envelope.”
“You got it. Says he never opened them, just delivered them. After the bomb went off, Carson says he confronted Sandstrom, but Sandstrom threatened him, saying he was in too deep to get out now. That he had to finish what he started. Carson admitted to the photo setup. Shrugged and said that kind of stuff happens all the time in big corporations. But he insisted he had nothing else to do with the bomber. He didn’t have a clue about the suicide note until the press announced it.”
“So if Carson didn’t kill Justin, who did?”
“A good question,” Darcy said. “Now we have to dig up the answer.”
A SECURE LOCATION
He placed the call the man was waiting for. “Once confronted with the evidence, Carson was singing like a songbird.”
“What exactly did he say?”
“Everything we already know, except he insisted he didn’t write the suicide note.”
“And you believe him?” the man growled.
“He offered to take a lie detector test.”
“Did he say anything about the C-4 and the bomb elements stashed in the apartment?”
“Claims he didn’t see anything like that when he was inside the apartment. He just left the envelope on a desk.”
“Mr. Eliot’s death?”
“He insists he had nothing to do with that.”
“So the other players are more involved than we originally thought.”
“Certainly looks that way.”
24
NEW YORK CITY
Saturday morning Sarah was wildly throwing a few personal essentials and some clothing into a couple of suitcases. Jon would arrive at 10 to drive her to D.C. She’d decided to leave her car in New York City for the time being, until she was settled in a more permanent location in D.C. Jean Si
mons had set up an appointment with the D.C. realtor for Sarah to look at her potential new place on Sunday. If she confirmed interest, she’d close on her new home within a month. In the meanwhile, she’d be at the Ritz.
Though she wouldn’t be sworn in as attorney general until Wednesday, Sarah had wanted to be there early before the media hoopla kicked in. That way she could scope out the area more effectively than she had in her visits there and also shop for furniture once she’d seen her new place. Unlike Sean, who simply let an interior decorator have her way with his abode since he was rarely there, Sarah liked to do her own decorating. She’d already decided on Asian minimalistic—other than her walk-in closets. She planned on stocking those thoroughly with apparel appropriate for an attorney general.
But for today, she was just Sarah—in jeans, a sweatshirt, and tennis shoes.
As she was dragging one of her suitcases toward the door, a knock sounded.
She smiled. It was Jon—right on time, as always.
WASHINGTON, D.C.
Will waited in the audience on Wednesday, the day Sarah would be sworn in as attorney general. The Worthingtons had arrived the previous evening and had enjoyed a late family dinner. All knew with Sarah’s schedule it might be awhile before they’d have the opportunity to do so again.
Now, minutes before the ceremony, Spencer Rich entered the room.
Will studied the president’s expression. Smug. As if he’d played a tennis match and won.
That meant the president thought somehow he’d gotten the upper hand.
So he thinks he can control Sarah—or us as a family—by getting her into this position, Will reflected. He grinned. He doesn’t know my sister.
Sarah was officially sworn in by Chief Justice Larsen, with President Rich looking on. With her left hand on a Bible, Sarah raised her right hand and vowed to use the law to protect equality.
Then, with cameras flashing, she addressed the American people. “My sacred charge is your protection, your liberties, and your rights. I will be a devoted champion of all the law protects. Thank you for your faith and trust in me,” she concluded.
A Primary Decision Page 9
