She was already thinking, staring into the distance. “Yes. We can. We will. Then we’ll have a gate, and we’re going to need it.” She looked back to me. “You’re doing big things, Jason.” A new worry came to her. “What will Mother think?”
“Keep us apart,” I said. It was not a joke.
We all had too much to think about, and it was an edgy evening. I finally told Eric to take a guest room when he couldn’t bring himself to leave. We didn’t go to bed, though, and finally Governor Bright made his awaited appearance.
He read his statement at the press-room podium, flanked by aides and officials, stating his shock at the allegations and promising a complete investigation. His tone was stentorian, authoritative, and somber. He also added his regret that “this young Mr. Boyer” couldn’t have first brought the evidence to him, the state’s highest official and guardian of the public trust, instead of sensationalizing it.
He took questions because he had to. There had been a lot that he hadn’t said in his statement, and the reporters had noticed.
Did he still have confidence in his Secretary of Transportation and Secretary of Finance?
“I am sure Mr. Howland and Mr. Gilbert are as anxious as I am to investigate every accusation.”
That was the most truthful thing he’d said so far. I almost laughed.
Bill Sandoff went for the big one. “Mr. Governor, did you personally have any knowledge of these alleged criminal practices?”
The look in the governor’s eye showed what he thought of Bill. Then his mouth started speaking.
“I will personally oversee the investigation, and I am sure it will find no evidence of anything criminal in my administration.”
Surely he hadn’t said that. But he had, with a straight face.
“Mr. Governor, shouldn’t the investigation be independent?” This was a newspaper reporter. “Would the public trust you to investigate your own administration?”
And then Clinton Grainger’s careful spin went out of control.
Harry Bright turned red, which looked very patriotic with his white hair and blue suit. “Trust? The public placed their trust in me at the last election. If you want to find criminals, I’ll tell you where to look. Follow these accusations back to their source. Melvin Boyer was poison to this state, but in one month his son has already done worse damage than his father ever did.”
The reporters were momentarily stunned by his outburst. “Why do you believe Jason Boyer is making these allegations?” asked one loud voice.
Bright had strayed from his script and couldn’t find his way back. “Because he’s trying to cover up the murders of his own father and mother. Well, I won’t be intimidated by his attack. We’ll get to the truth of it all.”
Every mouth I could see dropped open. This stunned moment was longer but ended in greater chaos.
“Be quiet,” I said to the two mouths that could hear me, and we listened to the reporters shouting and watched the governor realize he may have gone too far. He stood, glaring, while the room quieted and the unanswered questions finally settled in a heap on the floor.
“I will not answer any further questions at this time,” he said, still glaring. “I will only promise you that the police will uncover every crime, and that every person responsible will be brought to justice. Every person. Any further questions may be directed to my press office. Good night.”
With his head high and a steely glint in his eyes, he turned and left the room.
Then we saw a different head staring at us. “This is Bill Sandoff. As you have just seen, Governor Harry Bright has bluntly given his answer to the allegations of corruption brought against his administration. While he did not flatly deny charges against his senior officials, he has made a strong accusation of his own, that those charges are politically motivated, or worse. Obviously, the investigations of fraud and of the Boyer deaths are now linked. Could Melvin and Angela Boyer have been murdered in connection with corruption at the highest levels of government? Will the facts take the investigators to the governor’s office? And what of Jason Boyer, whose motives for exposing his father’s business deals have been called into question? The answers to these, and many other questions, are now of the utmost importance. Bill Sandoff, Channel Six News.”
Good questions, especially the last one. What of Jason Boyer? He was turning off the television, that was what.
“Jason.” In her expectations of billionaire existence, Katie had not imagined an event quite like this. She didn’t even know what to ask.
“It’s okay.” I didn’t know what to answer. “But you can see what its going to be like for the next few weeks.”
“Do you know what you’re doing?”
“I’m doing my best.” I took her hand in mine. “This is just part of the job. I didn’t start it.”
She nodded. “All right, Jason.” She was shaken. This was outside her experience, and she needed some way to deal with it.
Then the confused look drained from her face, replaced by her own steely glint. She knew her part in this war. “Tomorrow night we’ll be in our new house.”
And finally Eric had regained his voice. “What did he mean, our mother’s murder?”
“He meant Angela,” I said.
“Oh.” He was breathing; I could see shoulders moving. Otherwise, he didn’t look very alive.
“Get some sleep, Eric. You’ve been through too much today.”
“Okay.”
Maybe some food would have helped, but if they felt like I did, they weren’t hungry. I called the police to ask them to keep our street clear.
I was still waiting for a good night’s sleep, but again I didn’t get it. I couldn’t keep my mind clear. Friday afternoon on the boat, I’d thought it would be painless to get addicted to power. Tonight it was very painful.
22
Thursday morning police barricades stood a hundred yards on either side of our driveway, and they were besieged.
The newspaper had made it through. I only glanced at the governor’s picture and name in the headlines, and tossed it into my office.
“I have to go,” I told Katie. “I’ll be back by noon.”
“I’ll be all right. The vans will be here in half an hour.”
I could imagine the stir that would cause on the street. “Call me if you need reinforcements.”
“Mother’s coming.”
“We could ask the police to keep her out.”
Katie smiled. “I’ve asked her to move into the new house with us.” It was hard to tell, but she was teasing.
“Okay, I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ll be nice to her.”
“Thank you, dear.”
Eric was munching cereal in the kitchen. Rosita fluttered around him, drawn to hunger like a moth to a candle.
“Motorcycle Boy,” I said, “I need you.”
Ten minutes later, at eight o’clock, we were in our leather disguises, pushing the Goldwing through the backyard, through the gate into our back neighbor’s yard, and then zoom zooming out his driveway. At eight twenty, my chauffeur dropped me off at the lobby and prepared to head back to guard Katie.
“One assignment,” I said to him as I handed him the helmet and jacket. I had not worn the leather pants. “If Katie doesn’t need you, read everything in the paper. I want to know it all.”
“No problem. I think I remember how to read.”
My own bodyguard awaited on the top floor. Pamela leaped from her desk when she saw me, gave me an
