“The president shouldn’t let politics dictate his actions,” Alex said.
Blunt shook his head and chuckled. “Politics dictate everyone’s actions in this town. All these elected officials come here promising to stand for some moral high ground when the vast majority of them are only doing whatever it takes to keep their party in power. It’s disappointing and one of the reasons I got out.”
"I like the president," Hawk said, "but with everything we know right now, holding this event is reckless."
Blunt nodded. “Even Young isn’t above getting sucked into the Washington game. But if he’s hellbent on forging ahead, we need to do our jobs and make sure nothing happens, even if it feels like a downright impossible task.”
Mia tapped the table a few times. “Hello, everybody. Let’s focus here.”
Alex looked wide-eyed at Mia. “This isn’t good.”
“Tell me about it,” Mia said. “I think it’s safe to say now that Nicolo didn’t have a truck stolen. It’s engaged in some shady activity one way or another, even if you couldn’t find much evidence to corroborate your hunches.”
“Apparently, you have,” Hawk said.
“That’s right. I did a little—ahem—digging last night and found listed weights for Nicolo trucks over the last three months at various weigh stations and compared them with what they left the port with along with the total weight of each delivery. Every truck had a substantial amount of weight more than what it was delivering.”
“And you accounted for the weight of each vehicle, gas, personal items?” Alex asked.
“Everything. And over the last month, they began transporting something extra that they didn’t want anyone to know about. What exactly? We don’t know that.”
“That’s the real question,” Alex said. “We need to know what they were moving across the country.”
Blunt nodded. “And the only way we’re going to find out is by catching those killers before they disappear forever.”
CHAPTER 17
June 30
Washington, D.C.
OLIVIA YOUNG GLANCED in the rearview mirror as she rolled along I-95 South toward Washington. The last few times she made it, one of the Secret Service agents insisted on riding with her, which made for an uncomfortable trip. But with Penny joining her for the quick trip home, Olivia managed to convince all the agents to follow her in their black SUV.
“Don’t you ever wish you could just ditch those guys?” Penny asked as she looked over her shoulder.
“All the time,” Olivia said. “To be honest, I’m grateful they’re around. And on more than one occasion, they’ve saved me from some obnoxious drunks at a bar.”
“That’s a nice thing to have.”
"Except for this one guy in his late 40s, Agent Hickman. He's a nice-looking guy, but I get the feeling he likes me, which is kind of creepy."
“I’ll say,” Penny said as she nodded.
“Yet for all the good they do, they definitely cramp my style. It’s hard to flirt with a guy when you’ve got those dudes lording over you.”
“Do you think they’ll tell your dad that you’re coming?”
"I hope not. I'll make their life hell if they do. I don't care if they let their boss know, just not my dad. For once, I'd like to genuinely surprise him."
Penny laughed. “Not so easy when you’re the President of the United States.”
“Absolutely not,” Olivia said, pausing for a moment before continuing. “So, tell me the truth. When did you know that I was Noah Young’s daughter?”
“I help Rob with all the summer applicants. And when I saw yours in the pile, I thought Olivia Michelle was a rather odd last name.”
“There are last people with the name Michelle.”
“Yeah, but it’s not that common. Then I saw that you went to Virginia and what sorority you were in, so I played a hunch.”
“Oh, no. Please tell me you didn’t hire me because of this.”
Penny scowled and waved dismissively at Olivia. “Of course not. You were genuinely more qualified for the job than most. From reading your bio, I could tell that sailing was a passion of yours. The worst employees we have are the ones who come to Newport thinking it’s all going to be sun, fun, and hooking up. I didn’t get that vibe at all from your resume.”
“Swear?”
“I swear,” Penny said, raising her hand in the air. “Besides, I didn’t vote for your dad in the last election.”
Olivia’s jaw fell slack. “How could you not?”
“It was my first election. I was naive.”
“Good answer,” Olivia said. “Mind you, he’s not perfect. And we’ve had some heated discussion at the dinner table. But I’ve made a concerted effort not to make that a regular habit. Even when he’s wrong, he means well.”
"So, are they going to frisk me down when we get to the White House?" Penny asked.
“Why? Are you carrying a gun?”
Penny furrowed her brow and shook her head. “Of course not. I’m not a fan of the Second Amendment.”
“Okay, keep that to yourself when you’re talking with my dad. In fact, don’t mention anything about any political party’s policies while you’re with me. That way, we can have a good time. Otherwise, Noah Young will turn into President Young instead of my dad. And after what happened to him with his wife getting killed in the bombing, I want this to be a pleasant visit.”
"I understand," Penny said. "Were you close with your stepmom?"
“No. She hated me, at least as far as I could tell. I’ll just tell you that the tears at her funeral were for my dad and his pain, not for her.”
"That's how I felt when my stepmom died."
“Oh, I didn’t know that you were like me, raised by your dad.”
“Yeah, my first mom died when she drowned in that bathtub.”
Olivia’s eyes widened. “Drowned?”
“Drank too much wine while taking a bath. I guess her three kids drove her to it.”
"And your stepmom?"
“House caught on fire one night while me and my two brothers snuck out to a party.”
“How tragic.”
Penny shrugged. “Maybe. She wasn’t a nice lady and resented us for taking up any time
