by Casi McLean
Ash paused in front of a door and turned. “This entrance takes us through the rear of the morgue. Watch Quint’s face the moment he sees you.”
She nodded. “I’m ready.”
Opening the door, he waved a hand to allow her to step in first. “Quint-ster. I have someone I want you to meet.”
The man sitting at a long desk cluttered with files glanced up. His eyes went wide, and he stood, knocking the chair to the floor. Lowering his glasses to perch on the tip of his nose, he stared over them and his jaw dropped. After a long pause, he finally spoke. “Holy shit.”
Chapter Eight
“Democracy dies in darkness,” Emily blurted out in a moment of silence. The phrase seared into her memory the first time she read All The President’s Men and she shivered at how the quote held so much credence now. She hoped today’s corruption wouldn’t make Watergate look like a child’s tea party. “I can almost hear your thoughts, Dr. Brannon.” She rolled her eyes, releasing a warm stream of air in her sigh. “Please, don’t blow off the possibility of deep state corruption as a conspiracy theory.” She stood and slapped her coiled fist on the corner of his desk. Smacking the metal far harder than she intended, she winced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to hit the surface so hard. But can you at least consider that complacency invites corruption?”
Quint leaned back and crossed his legs. “It’s Quint, dear. Please, relax and have a seat.”
“Fine.” Emily sat with a plop then crossed her arms. “Just hear us out before you make a decision.”
Quint harrumphed. “Actually, your theory, far-fetched as the idea might sound, doesn’t strike me quite as out there as you might think. I’ve done a lot of autopsies and have seen more than a few murders committed for power and greed.”
Lacing his fingers, Ash murmured, “Several come to mind.” He stepped toward the window and gazed outside. “She has a good point, Quint. What if this shadow government started decades ago?” He turned with a searching stare as if envisioning his own thoughts then pulled a toothpick from his pocket and pressed the sharp end against his lower lip. “What if…” –– pausing, he wrinkled his brow––“What if a group of renegades with a similar vision for America’s future connected? A bipartisan faction…not Democrat or Republican…perhaps with roots to other countries…” Ash twirled the toothpick between his fingers as he spun his theory. “What if this group believed in world order over democracy? Could they not groom and financially back individuals then inject them into key government positions? What if, over decades, these elected officials seeded by global titans infiltrated our government and, little by little, altered the direction of our country?”
A tingle whirled in Emily’s stomach. Ash wasn’t fully convinced himself, yet he totally defended her position. Another pang of attraction quivered between her thighs as she considered his blind support. She shifted her gaze to the Medical Examiner.
Quint leaned forward. “You’re talking about a worldwide faction, Ash. Look, there’s no doubt global unrest runs rampant these days, but a secret society like that would be impossible to coordinate, let alone control.” He scowled, shaking his head. “Ha, if your theory was possible, why stop there. A shadow government could undermine the constitution…make patriotism illegal…or better yet” ––he pushed away from his desk then stood and paced the room––“why not propagandize American kids?” Withdrawing his glasses, he held a temple to his lips for a long beat before continuing. “They could infiltrate the public-school system…teach children whatever they want them to believe and…BAM...a new generation evolves, convinced democracy is immoral and a global order government would change the world into a Shangri-La utopia. Hell, most kids think their parent’s knowledge is obsolete already, right? What easier way to energize change than injecting propaganda into the passion of youth?” Replacing his glasses, he adjusted the nosepiece as the mocking smile he wore strangely wilted into a pensive sneer. “Damn,” he whispered then inhaled deeply.
“Wait. What just happened? The color in your face went pale.” Emily stared in wonderment. Something he said rang true and she couldn’t help but hope his revelation might convince him to assist Ash with his plan.
“I intended my off-the-cuff meme to rein-in the absurdity of a worldwide underground conspiracy…but as I verbalized the wacky scheme, it didn’t sound so far-fetched…maybe propagandizing vulnerable factions of our society isn’t such a stretch. The thought gave me the chills.” Quint drew his glasses from the perch on the end of his nose and placed them on his desk. “Mark Twain once said, ‘When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned in seven years.’ Twain nailed an age-old datum. Kids think they know everything. The absurdity is, it’s not a stretch to plant seeds in kid’s minds.” He tapped his fingers on the desk. “This day and age––with social media and Internet––if a force was so inclined, they could feed, encouraged, and reinforce propaganda in the minds of vulnerable kids. That’s how terrorists recruit blind followers, right? It’s plausible an emerging generation filled with youthful passion would push their beliefs––like they did back in the 1960s protesting the Vietnam War. The difference is the new generation would have no idea they were brainwashed.”
Placing a hand on his shoulder, Ash continued. “Look who’s reinforcing the conspiracy theory now.”
“Gotcha.” Emily pinched together her facial expression, praying Quint now sensed a glimmer of the looming threat. “Consider this, guys. America’s democracy thrives because of compromise. Parties with different points of view discuss issues with a give-and-take process until they reach solid ground. But throw money and power into the fray…temptation and or blackmail can coerce even the most honest individuals. How much time do you think would be involved for a rich, powerful world order to gain a foothold in our government? The nation would never see the silent coop coming––until it was too late.”
“Of course, this is all a conspiracy theory…right?” Ash smirked at Quint.
Scratching his chin, Quint nodded. “A shadow government might explain the mystery behind the FBI response to Miss Rose.”
Emily gulped hard, her throat tightening. “What FBI response? Why would the FBI have any interest in me?”
Ash’s gaze flashed to Emily. “He means Alyssa. Quint knows the FBI has an unusual interest in this case, which gives merit to your shadow government premise.” Sitting on the edge of Quint’s desk, Ash continued his diatribe. “Political corruption started decades ago and will never stop if we the people don’t curb the lobbyists who feed the lion.” Ash raised a brow. “You know damn well politicians––on both sides––are swayed by special interest groups. Candidates promise anything to get elected, but when was the last time an elected official kept a promise, for God sakes? I stopped listening to the political spins Washington spews a long time ago.” His gaze caught Emily’s and he tipped his head toward Quint.
Unsure what he apparently requested of her, Emily recognized he yielded the floor. She puckered her lips in a sideways sneer. “For the record, I’m Libertarian, my brother, Wyatt––he’s Republican and Alyssa was a Democrat. We’re not political hacks, and our belief regarding the Deep State isn’t rooted in politics.” She searched Quint’s face and body language for a reaction but saw none. Thoughts swirling, she pinched her brows together. “The point is, America is in trouble…and I can’t help but think my sister’s murder had something to do with government corruption.”
Quint’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You two really believe other countries could be influencing our elections?”
Emily shrugged. “Why not? China, Iran, North Korea, Russia, even Isis would love nothing more than to see the United States collapse, and what easier method than to pit our two political parties so far against each other the divisiveness sparks violence and anarchy? Foreign governments don’t have to defeat us…we implode,
eating our own in a cyber-induced civil war. So busy casting blame, we let down our guard, leaving the door wide open for enemies of the state. A few sleeper cells placed in high-ranking positions––and voila.”
Drawing in a deep breath, Ash stood, ran his fingers through his thick hair then leaned against the wall. “This theory didn’t begin with Emily, Quint. And more to the point, after listening to her, a lot of my loose-ended cases began to make sense.” Ash pushed off the wall and approached him. “Emily knows her sister…and Alyssa’s concerns could have placed her in peril.” He flicked the toothpick he’d been chewing into the trashcan. “Here’s the bottom line, buddy…we brought up this shadow government premise because we need your help to dissuade the FBI and anyone else interested in this murder…I trust you, man.” He leaned his fists on the desk and glared at Quint. “In order to find Alyssa’s murderer, we want to temporarily reinvent the morning we found her body. And Brad has to corroborate the details we manipulate.”
Emily gazed directly into his eyes. “Quint, Ash’s plan won’t change the world or bring back Alyssa. The charade may not even faze the Deep State. But we might find Alyssa’s murderer and, with any luck, discover who set the plan in motion.” Shifting the conversation back to her sister sent a wave of emptiness swirling down Emily’s spine. She drew in a long breath and, tucking a random strand of hair behind her ear, blew out softly to regain her composure. “Whatever answers we uncover will at least allow my brother and me to understand why we’re burying my sister.” She crossed her arms, and the knot twisting in her stomach slightly relaxed.
Glaring at Emily, Quint scratched the stubble on his chin. “I might regret this, but you’re a very convincing woman, Emily Rose. That little lady in the back room didn’t deserve what happened, and if I can play a part in finding her killer, I will.” He shifted his gaze to Ash. “You’ll have no problem with Brad, but I guess you already know that. I’ll keep my assistants at bay, too. But you do know the FBI is due to take the body and the case on Friday. If we want to set your plan in motion, we need to start today…right now.”
Ash’s lips curled into a soft grin. “That’s why we’re here, man. You know what you have to do with the files. It’ll be my pleasure to call the FBI.” He glanced at Emily and sent her an are-you-ready-for-this gesture. “You good to go?”
She nodded. “Yes. Alyssa would have done the same for me. Let’s do this.” Emily’s nerves had her tightening every muscle, and until that moment she hadn’t realized how tense her jaw clenched. Releasing the tension sent a wave of dizziness and she clutched the table to steady herself.
Ash grabbed her shoulder and the confident glow of attitude she’d seen on his face earlier faded, flushed with a more compassionate demeanor. “I’m not gonna lie, Emily. Playing Alyssa now won’t be as easy as switching places in high school. But I’ll be with you as often as I can without drawing attention to us. You will be putting on the show of your life, and one slip-up could get us all blacklisted…or dead. No matter what happens, you can’t cave. Stay in character.”
She squeezed her eyes into a squint. “No pressure, right?”
He grasped her hand. “You’ll have an active wire on or next to you at all times, and we’ll have eyes on you.”
“I know. I’m an investigative reporter, Ash. And this isn’t my first gig. I’ll be fine.” But would she? Even though Emily had played Alyssa many times before, she didn’t know anyone on The Hill. She had no knowledge of Lyssa’s routine or what she uncovered. Once the thug who killed her got wind of her miraculous recovery, he––or she––would come back to finish the job. Emily shuddered at the thought of placing the same target on her own back.
After manipulating his phone screen, Ash put the phone to his ear as he stepped into the hallway.
“He’s making plans at the hospital. Ash has quite a few friends in DC he can trust, and I’m one of them.” Quint sat at his desk, opened a folder and thumbed through a few papers before proceeding to his computer. “Did I hear you say you’re an investigative reporter?”
“Yes, in Atlanta. I’m not nation-wide, if that’s what you’re worried about. Just local news.”
“I’m not worried, Miss Rose, at least not about you. Perhaps putting my entire career in jeopardy has me a tad concerned.” He glanced up. “Ash told me on the phone your brother is a decorated Marine. I understand he’ll be here tomorrow. Is that correct?”
Running a finger along the edge of the cold metal desk, she nodded. “Yes. He enlisted in the Marine Corps after high school, and he worked his way up to Staff Sergeant. Deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan on two separate tours, he most recently specialized as an Explosive Ordnance Disposal…sorry, I mean a bomb technician, disarming and destroying IEDs…um, improvised explosive devices. Wyatt’s a hero, Quint. And I’m certain he’ll want to be involved in our plan in some capacity. Speaking of a plan…have you implemented one of Ash’s plans before?”
Continuing his work, he answered. “Many times, but none quite so dangerous as this has the potential to be. Ash knows what he’s doing. He’s got a second sense with investigations and I’d trust him with my life.”
Emily’s heart kicked up at the thought of Ash having a psychic sense like hers. She hoped he hadn’t read her––as she had him.
Quint shifted his gaze to Emily and lifted his brow. “You’re lucky Ash found your sister. I don’t know of any other detective on the force who would have entertained this…how shall I put it…”
“You don’t have to say anything, Quint. I’m well aware my Deep State viewpoint isn’t widely shared, but that would defeat the purpose of a clandestine revolution, would it not?” Emily wandered toward the window and peered outside. “Since his tour in Afghanistan, Wyatt and a group of his military cohorts have exposed volumes of evidence proving the existence of the Deep State. Most of which is top secret and well beyond my pay grade. The battle between good and evil began with the birth of humanity, and despite our intellectual evolution, the war still festers. Alyssa and I chose careers to assist America against terrorists, external or internal, whose greed and power knew no boundaries. That faction might be what killed my sister, and I have to do whatever I can to expose the perpetrators.” She turned to face him. “I know you’re skeptical, Dr. Brannon. But what if I’m right? Could you live with yourself knowing you blew off the possibility of derailing a foreign takeover?”
Chapter Nine
Georgetown University Campus, located directly across the Potomac River from the Marriott Key Bridge, could be easily seen from Emily’s hotel room. The hospital lay to the left and a bit farther back. Ash pointed out the location, standing behind her as they gazed out the window. The fresh scent of honeysuckle still lingered in her hair. Guilt for his visceral responses stabbed his chest. The woman came to bury her sister, for God’s sake, not to indulge in a meet-up. But standing so close, he couldn’t repress the sensual prickles that ran down his neck and back until they gripped his groin. Damn it, Ash. Stop it. He took a step back. “You see where Key Bridge splays out on the other side of the river?
She shifted her gaze then nodded. “Um hmm.”
“Look below the bridge to the left and you’ll see the old Aqueduct. It looks like a walking bridge to nowhere. See the graffiti?”
“I think so.” She squinted and tilted her head.
“That’s where we found Alyssa. The call came from an anonymous jogger. See the running path there between the canal and the Potomac? He was out for his pre-dawn run before work and saw something suspicious in the river.”
She drew in a quick breath. “Oh Lyssa…I can’t bear the thought of her floating in that water? It’s so cold this time of year and––” She stopped herself mid-sentence and lowered her gaze.
“I’m sorry, Emily. I didn’t mean to upset you more. I should just shut up.” He turned and wandered toward the king-sized bed.
“It’s okay, Ash. You didn’t know I’d have such a reaction…I didn’t either.” She tur
ned and gathered the rest of her things together. “I wanted to see Alyssa, but when Quint opened the drawer, I couldn’t look. I had an overwhelming sense she didn’t want me to carry that vision forever. At the same moment, I felt her presence as if she drifted into my body and her thoughts guided me to focus on finding her killer.” Emily turned to face him, rolled her eyes then shook her head. “I’ve seen that look before. You think my feelings irrational, right?”
Ash raised a brow. “Nonsense. Everyone reacts differently to the death of someone they love.” The words flowed from his script, but he couldn’t help but wonder if she had the presence of mind, she’d need to pull off the charade. “We should get going. Are you sure you packed everything? We need to expunge any trace of you being here. I’m sure Quint has erased the paper trail by now. He’s a wiz with computers. I’ll keep your things at my place until our masquerade is over.”
Closing her eyes tightly, she took a long breath before opening them. “I’m perfectly capable of handling this sting.”
Ash snapped around and glared into her eyes. Did she hear his thoughts? How could she have used my exact terminology…a sting? Was she psychic…if that was really a thing? Angling his head, he pinched his brows together. “Did you…I mean…what made you choose those words?”
“You could say I’m psychic, but a lot of people question the term.” Closing her suitcase, she grasped her purse then slung the strap over her shoulder. “My brother can vouch for my aptitude. I prefer to use the term ‘sense.’ I’ve sensed things since I was a little girl, especially with my siblings. Some people are easier to read than others. You ready to go?”
Ash chuckled. “Wait a minute. You can’t just lay something like that on me then nonchalantly walk away. This information presents new possibilities and could be a game-changer. But I need to know details.” He scooted in front of her and opened the door. Holy crap. If Emily is psychic, our deck is stacked. “What situations give you the clearest pictures?”
