the others did? Why do this?”
“I don’t hate the president. I voted for him. But that doesn’t mean we should look the other way if a crime has been committed. We’re law enforcement officers.”
“Whose job it is to protect the president,” replied Holland, “not to solve crimes. We’re in protection, not detection.”
“Max, listen-” she began.
“No, Elise, you listen. Nikki Hale got drunk, she got behind the wheel, and she caused a horrible accident. She took four other people along with her. It was tragic, but it’s over. Don’t pick at the scab.”
“Max, I can help head this thing off and save us all a lot of trouble and embarrassment, but I can’t do that if you won’t cooperate.”
“Hale’s dead, Elise. She’s the one responsible for what happened. Case closed.”
“You’re wrong about that.”
“How do you know?” Holland asked. “How do you know there are going to be subpoenas? Who’s behind all this?”
“Are you going to help me or not?”
“That depends. You’ve got to give me something first.”
Elise reached for the remnants of her Diet Coke and weighed what to tell him. “The family Hale plowed into and killed-”
“The Colemans.”
She nodded. “Their only living relatives were Charlie Coleman’s parents. They started a lawsuit, but eventually agreed to an out of court settlement, supposedly paid for by Stephanie Gallo.”
“Big deal. Gallo’s free to do what she wants with her money. And why wouldn’t she want to make the lawsuit disappear? She had a lot invested in Alden’s campaign, and the drinking that night happened at her fund-raiser, on her property. With a bank account like hers, I would have done the same. Plus, with Nikki Hale dead, there’s no one to charge with a crime. And when the elder Colemans folded their tents and went home, that was the end of any civil suits too.”
“Not necessarily. There’s someone else who can bring a suit for what happened that night.”
“Who?”
“Sheryl Coleman’s business partner.”
“I don’t understand how you know all of this,” said Holland.
“I was invited to talk to her.”
“Invited by whom?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“The hell it doesn’t. This smells like a political hatchet job. Who’s putting you up to this?”
Elise resented the insinuation. “Nobody’s putting me up to this.”
“Then why are you doing it?”
“Because it’s my job.”
“No it isn’t. Let it go, Elise.”
“What are you so worried about?”
Holland drained the last of his beer and then held the empty glass up to get the bartender’s attention again. “What I’m worried about,” he said as he set it back onto the bar, “is how the Secret Service could be made to look in all of this.”
“Why should that matter? Has the Secret Service done something wrong?”
Holland waited until the bartender had set down his new Bud Light and walked away before responding. “You said you could do the Secret Service a favor. How?”
“I might be able to convince Sheryl Coleman’s business partner not to pursue the lawsuit.”
“So might Stephanie Gallo and her mighty checkbook.”
“Not this woman,” said Elise. “I’ve met her. This isn’t about money.”
“You know,” he said as he raised his glass, but stopped just before it reached his mouth, “it’s funny how you just happened to overhear something between the president and Gallo and now all of a sudden this woman wants to bring a lawsuit. I’d think long and hard about what you’re doing, Elise.”
“I have, Max. Believe me. So about that night?”
Holland took another long sip of beer and set the glass back on the bar. “Are you sure about this?”
Elise nodded.
“Yes, after the dinner that night, the president was with Nikki Hale.”
“What were they doing?”
“I wouldn’t know. Unlike some agents, I don’t eavesdrop on the president.”
Elise let the remark slide. “What do you think was going on?”
“I’m not going to speculate.”
“There was a lot of talk that they might have been having an affair.”
“Is that a question?” asked Holland.
“Yes, it’s a question.”
“You worked his detail. What do you think?”
“I was an advance person for most of the campaign. If there was anything between them, I didn’t notice it.”
“Like I said,” replied Holland. “I’m not going to speculate.”
“Fine. How long were they together after the party that night?”
“About forty-five minutes.”
“Were they drinking? Do you think Alden could be held liable for her condition that night?”
“First of all,” said Holland as he raised his beer to take another swig, “I’m not an attorney. And second, I think Nikki Hale bears the ultimate responsibility for her condition. You remember what her reputation was.”
Elise looked at him. “I do, and I also know what people have said about Alden. I need to know you’re not covering for him, that this isn’t some wink-wink, boys-will-be-boys sort of thing.”
“The man’s personal life is his business. You can say what you want about Kennedy and Marilyn Monroe, but we all know how Clinton’s affair blew up in his face. We also know how the Service came away from that with black eyes. Morale is at an all-time low. We don’t need a scandal and we don’t need agents having to testify about what they saw or didn’t see.
“I’ll tell you this, though. I don’t care how many Americans love this new president, his administration has gotten off to a very rocky start. A mistress would be bad for his image, but a dead one would be fatal.”
Elise thought about that remark for a moment before asking, “Did you see Nikki Hale leave that night?”
“I saw her and the president part company. I didn’t see her leave the estate.”
“Had they been in his bedroom?”
“No, Gallo’s library study.”
“Were they alone?”
Holland nodded.
“What about the drinking?”
“You already asked me that,” he replied.
“And you didn’t answer. Had they been drinking?”
“Maybe.”
Elise studied him. “Maybe?”
“I wasn’t in the room.”
“Max, her blood alcohol content was off the charts. You’re telling me she wasn’t bombed when she left?”
“Maybe she had been drinking with him and it just hadn’t hit her yet. All I know is that she didn’t look pie-eyed to me when she left.”
Elise was confused. “Then what happened?”
“She made another stop before leaving the estate that evening.”
“She did? Where?” asked Elise.
“That, you’re going to have to figure out for yourself,” replied Holland as he stood up from the bar and polished off the rest of his beer.
