pipeline?'
'No, of course that's not true.'
'So you'll veto the bill if the legislature passes it?'
'I can't answer a hypothetical question.'
'Sounds like you're dodging the question.'
God, feel free to step in anytime and smite these reporters down.
He gave up on Texas reporters and gestured to a network reporter.
'Governor, is it true that you employ illegal Mexican immigrants at the Governor's Mansion?'
'No, that's not true.'
'What about Guadalupe Sendejo?'
'Lupe? She's family. She's been with my family since I was a boy.'
'But she's undocumented. As are the Mexicans you employ at your ranch.'
'They're family, too.'
'But they're residing in the U.S. illegally. You're employing illegal immigrants while demanding that the president secure the border to keep illegal immigrants out-isn't that hypocritical?'
Please, God. A little help here.
A good-looking broad bounced up and down with her hand in the air. Surely she wanted to ask him about the shooting. He pointed to her. She jumped up.
'Governor, did your wife leave you?'
' What? Of course not.'
'Well, where is she? She hasn't been seen at her regular charitable duties in weeks now-the food bank, the homeless shelter, the AIDS clinic. Everyone is wondering where she is.'
He hoped he wasn't sweating through the armpits of his powder-blue shirt for all the world to see. He felt a single bead of sweat pop from a pore on his forehead. He couldn't reach up and wipe it off-the cameras would catch him sweating, just the kind of photo op he didn't need. So he ignored the sweat bead as it started its slow descent down his broad forehead. He tried to frown it off, but it hung tight to his skin. He finally reached up as if to brush his hair off his forehead and swiped the sweat bead with his palm. But his sweat pores erupted like Mount St. Helens with the next question.
'Governor, does your wife's absence have anything to do with the rumors that are running rampant around Austin that you're having an affair with your aide, Mandy Morgan. Is that true?'
' Mandy Morgan? She's barely older than my daughter-who's probably watching this press conference on TV. You should be ashamed of yourself for asking that question.'
'Which you haven't answered.'
He glared at her, which usually worked, but she held her ground. Oh, God, your good buddy Bode is in deep doo-doo here!
'Obviously, my political opponents have fed y'all with a lot of rumors so you'll air this on your shows and print it in your newspapers. Getting me to deny an affair with an aide is almost as good for ratings as me admitting it, right? This is exactly what is wrong with the liberal media in America today. You live for scandal because scandal drives ratings. So even if there's no scandal, you create scandal. And nothing drives ratings higher than a sex scandal involving a political hero, right? But the people of America will see this for what it is, a left-wing media attack. This is exactly what the liberal press does when the people embrace conservative heroes, when the liberal media's power to influence the people is challenged: you launch personal attacks. Tea Partiers are racist, Sarah Palin is dangerous, I'm an adulterer… It's disgusting, and the people hate you for it. But worse than that, it's a cancer on democracy, a cancer that's destroying this country. I'm a tough guy, I played football, I took big hits, I'm used to cheap shots. But only football games were at stake. Our country, our way of life, is at stake now. And the press-so important an institution that it is protected by the First Amendment-goes down into the gutter to report filthy rumors like this. You can't hurt me. But you're hurting my wife and my daughter, and you should be ashamed of yourselves.'
But the reporter didn't seem the least bit ashamed.
'So it's all a lie? Your wife hasn't left you, and you're not having an affair?'
Bode jabbed a big finger at the reporter.
'It's a goddamn lie.'
Sorry, God, I'm winging it here. Alone.
He walked away from the podium and out the door. Jim Bob caught up with him a few steps down the corridor. Two Texas Rangers shadowed them as they marched down the Capitol corridor and out the east doors and climbed into the waiting Suburban. Bode exhaled.
'What the hell was that all about?'
'That,' Jim Bob said, 'was the national press. See, Bode, you've played politics only in the friendly waters of Texas, where the press is compliant and we've only got two liberal media outlets in the whole state. Now you're playing politics in the big waters, where all the media are liberal and vicious.'
'And who's this Democrat, Jesse Rincon?'
'Your wife's doctor.'
'Her gynecologist is a Democrat?'
'No… well, I don't know, he might be… but this isn't about him. Jesse Rincon is her Mexican doctor.'
'She goes to a Mexican gynecologist?'
'Not her goddamned gynecologist! The doctor she works with, down on the border. He's a Latino named Jesse Rincon. He's getting a lot of good press for passing up a big-city practice to take care of those poor people in the colonias — '
'Oh, the liberal media love that, don't they?'
— 'and Latino leaders around the state are pushing him for governor, they see him as the savior. Like the San Antonio mayor.'
'Gutierrez? I gave him state environmental funds to clean up the riverwalk.'
' New York Times did a front-page profile on him. Rincon.'
'No one in Texas reads the New York Times, and no one in New York can vote in Texas. As long as he's not on Fox, we're okay. You think he's gonna run?'
Jim Bob shrugged. 'He hasn't said yes, but he hasn't said no.'
'Maybe he doesn't want to be a politician?'
'Everyone wants to be a politician.'
'I wanted to be a pro football player.'
'I mean, after they grow up.'
'Maybe he won't run.'
'They put kids in a TV shot with him.'
'Damn, he's running. A Latino. You figure the Latino vote will come out for him?'
'Does the Democratic vote come out for a tax increase?'
'Shit.'
'He'll sweep the Latino vote.'
'Which means he'll win.'
'They'll vote for him. And there'll be a Latino in the Governor's Mansion doing more than cooking. On my watch.'
The Suburban exited the Capitol grounds and turned right on Eleventh Street.
'How the hell did they find out about Mandy?'
'Jolene, probably.'
'Damn. I thought she wanted to screw me.'
'She just did.'
'Maybe they found out from Mandy. Maybe she told a friend. Or texted someone.' He stared out the window. 'Jesus, this day can't get any worse.'
The Suburban entered the gates to the Mansion and stopped in the rear driveway. Bode bolted out and marched inside the Mansion and down the corridor to Mandy's office. He barged in without knocking on the closed door. Because he was pissed. Excuse me God, but I am pissed. Because his mistress had been talking out of
