A Powerful Secret
Page 7
For now, that restlessness would keep him globe-trotting, searching for adventure.
Eventually, though, he’d have to settle somewhere. What then?
LANGLEY, VIRGINIA
It was finally quiet in the house at 11:00 p.m. The man shut the large double doors to his study and waited for the 11:30 call. He answered the instant it rang.
“The DOJ noose is tightening around Sandstrom,” his contact told him. “And he’s highly nervous. He’s trying to rein in Carson. I think he suspects Carson’s got a side deal going on. Everybody knows Carson is Sandstrom’s bagman for dirty work. Just never have been able to prove it. But word is, Carson has made himself a little ‘unavailable’ for Sandstrom lately.”
The information was exactly how the man liked it—condensed and straightforward. He narrowed his eyes. So let’s see how much hardball Carson will play.
Aloud he told his contact, “Keep eyes on Sandstrom, Carson, and the White House. We need to know their next moves even while they’re thinking about them.”
“Will do.”
The man behind the mahogany desk knew it would be a long time before he would sleep.
GRAVITY CANYON, NEW ZEALAND
As Sean’s eyes drifted shut at 3:00 a.m., his cell rang. It was Elizabeth. He hadn’t heard from her in several weeks. Likely she was in the midst of a big research project.
“Hey, Mr. Night Owl,” she teased, “you sound a little sleepy. Where are you, and what are you up to?”
“Gravity Canyon,” he replied.
“So you did it—the ultimate rush. And?”
“It was everything they said it would be and more.”
“Don’t think I’d ever be that brave . . . or that stupid.”
He laughed. Yes, Elizabeth was rooted—rooted to the ground and perfectly at home on the ocean. But plummeting to earth was not her idea of a good time. She’d been clear about that when he’d asked her to accompany him once.
“Jon said something similar.”
“He told me that too. But he added another word—crazy.”
“Yeah, well . . .” He couldn’t help it. He had to ask. “Were you able to see Jon while he was in town?”
“Don’t know how, but we finagled a whole afternoon and evening. Even did the touristy thing—visited the Space Needle and had dinner at the SkyCity Restaurant.”
Again Sean was stabbed with jealousy. Why hadn’t he scheduled to join them? He could have carved the time out of his start-up trips. Get a grip, buddy, he told himself. You weren’t there. And why shouldn’t two friends get together?
Still, he decided he needed to swing by the University of Washington soon.
“And Sean . . . ,” Elizabeth hedged, “you sure you want to get into politics for yourself?”
“Why? Do you find that so hard to believe?” Annoyance crept into his tone.
“Whoa. Don’t get feisty with me,” she shot back. “I’m only asking because it’s never been something on your grid. At least that you’ve talked with me or Jon about.”
So they discussed me and my next move. Sean hated that. It felt like betrayal.
“Neither of you know everything about me,” he said.
“Evidently not,” she replied quietly. “When you want to discuss and be civil, call me. Otherwise, have a good day.” Elizabeth ended the call.
Have a good day? Elizabeth was the last person on earth to throw out something as banal as that. Nor was she the type of person to hang up on anyone. That meant she was really angry.
Well, he wasn’t happy himself . . . or with himself.
Maybe that U of WA trip needed to wait awhile until he wrestled with his feelings and made a definite decision, one way or another, about Dr. Elizabeth Shapiro.
17
NEW YORK CITY
Will couldn’t help it. Now that the media frenzy over his aborted Senate race was over, his eyes and ears were attuned to American Frontier news. At last he gave in and did what he was good at—assessing a massive amount of information at lightning speed.
The announcement of the Polar Bear Bomber’s death had mostly played out in the press now. People didn’t care that they didn’t know his name. Knowing he was mentally unstable sealed the deal and provided a reasonable intent to bomb a building.
The lack of interest in the bomber was both good and bad for AF. Some people were still sympathetic since a supposed eco-crazy had blown a chunk out of AF’s building. But now the media attention was back on the oil-coated animals and the shorelines where the oil was migrating, generating anger. A worldwide audience was bending toward Green Justice’s cause, no longer viewing the organization as a wacko environmentalist one.
In complete transparency, Green Justice had opened their records to the DOJ and DHS, and the search of activist rosters revealed no trace of the man who became the Polar Bear Bomber. All three organizations had released statements from their offices to that effect.
Sean’s friend Kirk Baldwin had been in the news frequently and had done a lot of good for Green Justice’s cause. “If the man who bombed the American Frontier building was truly connected with environmental causes, he stepped over a line that no one I know in the environmentalist circles would,” Kirk stated. “We are about saving lives, not destroying them. One look at the history of what Green Justice has done makes that abundantly clear.” His even-keeled manner and well-seasoned words took the fire out of the opposition.
That the public’s opinion had changed direction was clear from the fact that in the past week, Green Justice had received a surge of funds—37 percent more than their average. Will expected to see that percentage inch upward in the weeks to come.
He hadn’t talked to Sarah lately about the criminal negligence lawsuit, but he knew she was still neck-deep. He rarely heard from her. Others might underestimate his sister, but Will knew better. When Sarah set her direction to do something, she was unstoppable.
Sean was the same way.
And so am I, Will thought. Except when my family is threatened.
What Sean was doing now—exploring running for governor of New York—made absolutely no sense. Then again, Sean was impulsive. His methods were often the opposite of Will’s, but he got results.
Will shook his head. Who knows? Maybe Sean will be the first Worthington to get to the White House. Wouldn’t that be something?
Sarah’s attorney instincts were in overdrive. Her mother had been too enigmatic, too unavailable for phone conversations. So Sarah took the first day off of work that she had since the siblings’ Chautauqua trip to announce the launch of Will’s campaign. She didn’t tell her mother she was coming. After a stop by their favorite bagel shop, Sarah simply showed up at her parents’ penthouse in the city at 8:30 a.m.
Ava was an early riser, but she never ate breakfast before 9:00. Her children teased her about it. She claimed that she had to allow her morning tea to settle and prepare her stomach for breakfast. They all rolled their eyes about it. Ava was the only Worthington who didn’t survive on multiple cups of coffee in the morning.
The minute her mother opened the door, Sarah’s heart sank. Ava’s light auburn hair was messy, and she was still in her robe. Sarah offered the bag. “Thought I’d bring you breakfast since Dad’s out of town.”
Her mother gathered her robe about her. “I didn’t know you were coming by.”
“You feeling sick?” Sarah stepped inside the foyer.
“No, just didn’t sleep well.”
Once in the kitchen, Sarah scanned the shelf by the coffeepot. No Irish tea. Something indeed was wrong. She swiveled to face her mother. “So, what gives? Clearly you’re not yourself. I’d like to help, if I can.”
Ava slumped. “I’m worried about your brothers.”
“Will? He gave us a shock, but he’ll be okay. And Sean? Why Sean? Other than the fact that he’s had to deal with a lot of heat over the aborted campaign?” She paused. “Are you concerned because he’s exploring stepping into politics himself?”
 
; Ava placed the bagel bag on the table and sank into a chair. “Will had to give up his dream. And Sean . . .”
Sarah sat next to her mom. “Will has given up two dreams. But he’ll find another one. He’s probably already strategizing his next move. After all, he’s a Worthington, and we’re tough cookies. I don’t think one of us has ever crumbled.”
“Yes, but I’m afraid he did it because of me.”
Sarah frowned. “What do you mean?”
Her mother looked down. “I told him I was worried about him campaigning—about what it might mean to our family.”
Sarah shrugged. “So we take a little heat. That’s nothing unusual. Anything we do is in the news or the gossip pages. Doesn’t matter whether it’s truth or lies. It’s easy for the media to sell either one.” She studied her mother. “So you were worried about Will getting hammered by the media, and now you’re worried about Sean because of the same thing? Because it will catapult us as a family even more into the spotlight? Seriously, when has that stopped any of us?”
When tears brimmed in Ava’s eyes, Sarah backed off her attorney mode. “I’m sorry. I’m not listening very well. Guess I’m doing a good job of preaching at you.” She chuckled. “I think that’s usually your role and I’m the one sitting in the pew.”
At that, her mom looked up. A smile flickered before her brow scrunched. “The last time I called Sean, he was in New Zealand. It sounded like a party was in full swing. And it was 3:00 a.m. his time. Since then he hasn’t picked up when I’ve called.”
Sarah opened the bagel bag. “So? That’s Sean. Has been for years. What’s different this time?”
“Ever since the aborted campaign, he’s been living faster than he ever has. He’s been on double the normal amount of start-up trips—and those are only the ones your father knows about.”
“I know, Mom, but you can’t stop him. None of us can. Sean will do whatever he wants to do, and he won’t fill us in sometimes. He was like that as a kid too. Besides, he’s probably trying to make up for the time he lost helping Will with the campaign, and cramming in as many trips as he possibly can before he knuckles down to the campaign in New York.” Sarah offered the bagel bag, and Ava absentmindedly took a cinnamon crunch one.
There really was something wrong. Ava hated sweet bagels, preferring the healthy whole-grain variety. Sarah had picked up the cinnamon one for herself.
“And then there’s the campaign.” Ava straightened in the chair, still holding the bagel. “Since when did Sean want to go into politics? He’s trying so hard to be someone he’s not.”
“Will, you mean.” Sarah’s jaw tensed. She was used to favoritism from her father, but it was disconcerting coming from her mother.
“Yes.” Ava’s eyes clouded. “To please your father. Earn his love.”
Recognition dawned. So she wasn’t the only sibling who felt that way. Sean had joked with her over the years about how Will was their dad’s favorite. But maybe it had hurt Sean as much as it hurt her. Maybe that was why he was shutting them out, to shut out the pain.
“What Sean needs most,” her mother murmured, “is a father’s acceptance. That’s what he’s missing.”
“I know he and Dad haven’t seen eye to eye. I admit that. But Dad’s been there for us over the years. Sean too,” Sarah countered.
Ava’s gaze turned distant. “Maybe.” She took a bite of her bagel.
Is something going on with Mom and Dad? Sarah wondered. Are they having trouble? Why else would Mom say that? A sliver of fear inserted itself into her heart.
But no matter how much Sarah tried her attorney logic and tactics from that point on, she couldn’t get another word out of her mother on the subject. Ava simply continued to eat the cinnamon crunch bagel without even slicing or toasting it. She brushed off the walk in the park Sarah wanted to take with her and said she was a little under the weather and needed to go back to bed.
Sarah finally gave up. As she exited the elevator on the main floor of her parents’ building, her thoughts tumbled.
“Will had to give up his dream . . .”
Ava’s statement leaped into Sarah’s recall, and she halted by the large umbrella plant in the lobby. Why didn’t Mom say Will gave up his dream? Why did she say he had to give it up?
Her attorney instincts on full alert, she strode from the building.
18
PARIS, FRANCE
Sean had been in Paris many times. While it wasn’t as exotic as places like Nepal, it was nevertheless a place where the old-world ways of business now collided with the new global economy. Sean had Worthington Shares investments in several new businesses involved in the world’s new energy economy, all based out of Paris. This time he’d come to tend to an exceptionally high-flying solar tech company, which was on the cusp of disrupting the utility sector with a new home storage battery capable of holding enough of the sun’s stored energy to power a small home for up to a week at a time. The start-up had utility companies all across the planet worried.
Sean had been at the company’s headquarters for two days when he got a call from Jon, who said he was working on a couple of big stories, plus continuing his work with Sarah and Darcy.
“Your sister’s really something,” Jon said. “A sharp attorney with a sense of humor—now there’s an unusual combo. Plus she can charm anyone, including the old coot at the table next to us who let anyone who came near him have it. She even got him joking with her.”
Sean chuckled. “Yeah, that’s Sarah.”
“Don’t know if it’s the Worthington side—raised with a silver spoon in your mouth, able to maneuver nearly anything or anyone your way. Not like some of us, who have to work extra hard to make a living,” Jon teased. “Or if it’s Sarah in particular.”
The two friends often bantered back and forth about the pros and cons of Worthington money. But this time, for some reason, Sean had to fight back his irritation.
Jon could have had it easier in life, if he chose. His older sister had gone to an Ivy League school paid for by their parents, but he’d refused. Instead he had gone to an in-state school on a cross-country scholarship. He’d only allowed his parents to pay for some room and board. Then, after a couple of years, he’d worked odd jobs to pay his own way. Jon said he never wanted to rest on anyone else’s laurels, or their money. He wanted to make his own destiny.
Maybe that was why the comment bothered Sean so much this time. He felt trapped. What would I be doing right now if I wasn’t a Worthington?
Jon continued. “All I know is that Sarah’s impressive. Not many could hold their own against her. Now, Elizabeth? Two peas in a pod. Those two could be good friends—or die-hard enemies. Neither ever backs down.”
Sean decided to bite the bullet. He had to know. Was his gut right, that Jon might be interested in Elizabeth? “How was Elizabeth when you saw her?”
“Fabulous. She’s quite a woman.”
Sean flinched.
“You remember a year or so ago, when we talked about the kind of woman we might give up bachelorhood for?” Jon asked.
Sure he did. It was the longest discussion they’d ever had. Both agreed on similar qualities they’d go for—strong-minded women who weren’t pushovers, loyal, family-oriented, globally knowledgeable, passionate about making their own mark on the planet in some way.
“I think Elizabeth is that kind of woman . . . if I was looking, that is,” Jon said.
Sean drew in a breath. “Well, are you? Looking, I mean?”
“Possibly,” Jon admitted. “You wouldn’t mind me pursuing that idea, would you? I mean, all three of us are friends . . .”
“Of course not. You’d be good together,” Sean said.
But he did mind. He minded very much. Sean was used to winning and losing in the business world. He played with high stakes every day. Somehow, though, this seemed like the biggest loss of all.
In spite of her testiness the last time they’d talked, he’d been able to think of no
one else but Dr. Elizabeth Shapiro. But maybe Sean wasn’t right for her. Maybe Jon—who was more even-keeled and seemed comfortable with himself—was who Elizabeth needed. She deserved the best the world had to offer, Sean was sure of that. Jon, with his quick intellect and stellar character, was the best of the best.
Why, then, when the phone call ended, did a heaviness descend over Sean?
He shook off his suddenly dark mood. For now, he must turn his mind to other things. Though running for governor was mere speculation at this point, bantered around Sean’s social circle, word had somehow gotten out that he’d had an exploratory conversation with Kiki and other political advisors. His cell was inundated with queries from the New York Times, the Washington Post, the Guardian, and others.
Funny how Jon hadn’t mentioned it, even when he and Elizabeth discussed it. Especially since Jon was a New York Times reporter, for heaven’s sake.
Sean’s stubborn streak kicked in. He might as well let the rumor reign for a while until he decided for himself whether or not politics was for him.
At least it would give the press something to gossip about other than his single status.
NEW YORK CITY
As soon as Will walked into his three-bedroom suite, Laura handed him the phone. He already knew what it was about. That morning the New York Times had had yet another post:
Rumors fly about the upcoming New York governor’s race. Will Sean Worthington finally take the family name into politics? And if so, will he stay the course, unlike his brother?
“Can’t you stop him?” Ava pleaded with Will over the phone.
He sighed. “Mom, I’ve never been able to control Sean—maybe only stop him momentarily when we were kids—and neither have you. He’ll do what he’s going to do. Whether the speculations are true, Sean will keep that to himself for a while. But for now, I can guarantee he’s enjoying letting the press have their field day on a new subject.”
That seemed to calm his mother for the time being.
19