'I'm sure. And I know these things get complicated.'
'I think my family wrote the book on complicated.'
'Your brothers seem pretty normal.'
'I guess I got all the issues.'
'Why did you want to go back to the farmhouse?'
'I told you, I don't know.'
'I've never known you to take an idle trip.'
'First time for everything.'
'Is that how you want to leave it with your dad?'
She gave him a look. 'Exactly how am I leaving it?'
'Up in the air.'
'Sean, my mother was murdered after apparently cheating on my dad. The woman who killed her almost killed me. My father saved my life, but there are issues there too, okay? In fact, for a while there I thought he'd been the one who killed her. So excuse me for being a little conflicted right now.'
'I'm sorry, Michelle, you're right.'
She laid down the binder she was holding and put her face in her hands. 'No, maybe you're right. But I don't know how to deal with this, I really don't.'
'Maybe you start with just talking to the guy. One-on-one, nobody else around.'
'That sounds absolutely terrifying.'
'I know it does. And you don't have to do it.'
'But I probably do have to do it if I ever want to get past this.' She stood. 'Can you take over going through these? I'm going to try and find my dad.'
'Any idea where he might've gone?'
'I think so.'
CHAPTER 66
JANE COX RODE in the limo coming back from Mail Boxes Etc. Unbeknownst to her, the FBI had run a trace on the post office box she'd been visiting every day. They had come up empty. Phony name, paid in cash for six months, and no paper trail. They'd given the store manager hell for not following the rules.
'This is how 9/11s start, you clueless moron,' Agent Chuck Waters had snapped at the middle-aged man behind the counter. 'You let a terrorist cell get a mailbox here with no background info, you're helping the enemies of this country attack us. Is that what the hell you want to be remembered for? Aiding and abetting Osama bin Laden?'
The man had been so distressed by this tongue-lashing that his eyes had actually started to tear up. But Waters had never seen this. He was already gone.
Jane reached the White House and climbed slowly out of the car. She had not been seen much in public as of late, which was a good thing, actually, because she looked older and haggard. The HD cameras deployed now would not have been too flattering. Even the president had noticed it.
'You okay, hon?' he'd asked during a brief stopover on the campaign trail where he would give an address to a group of veterans followed by a belated visit from the women's college basketball national championship team. She had gone straight from the limo up to their private quarters to find him sitting there going over some briefing papers.
'I'm fine, Danny. I wish people would stop asking me that. I'll start to think there's something actually wrong.'
'The FBI has briefed me about these visits to the post office box.'
'And not the Secret Service?' she'd said quickly. 'The spies among us?'
He sighed. 'They're just doing their job, Jane. We're national property now. National treasure, at least you are,' he'd added with a quick smile that usually did the trick in boosting her spirits.
Usually, but not today. 'You're the treasure, Danny. I'm just the baggage.'
'Jane, that's not-'
'I don't really have time to waste on this and neither do you. The kidnappers communicated with me through a letter. It gave me the post office box and a key to that box. They said I would receive a letter at some point and to check that box every day. I have. And so far, no letter.'
'But why work through you at all. Why not Tuck?'
'Yes, why not Tuck? I don't know, Danny, because I apparently cannot think like a kidnapper.'
'Sure, sure, I didn't mean that. So maybe we were right. They're going to ask me to do something in order to get Willa back. It can't be money because your brother has more of that than I do. Hell, we can barely cover our personal grocery bills at this place. It must be tied to the presidency.'
'And then it becomes problematic, like you said. Emasculate the office, I believe were your words.'
'Jane, I will do all that I can do, but there are limits.'
'I thought the power of the Oval Office was unlimited. I guess I was wrong about that.'
'We will do all we can to get her back.'
'And if all we can do isn't enough?' she said angrily.
He stared at her, a slightly hopeless look in his eyes.
The most powerful man in the world, she thought. Emasculated.
Her anger cooled as suddenly as it had risen. 'Just hold me, Danny. Just hold me.'
He rushed to do this, pressing her tightly against him.
'You're shivering. Are you coming down with something? You've lost weight too.'
She stepped away from him. 'Look, you need to go. You have your speech in the East Room.'
He automatically checked his watch. 'They'll call up when it's time.'
He went to hold her again, but she moved away, sat down, and stared off.
'Jane, I am the president of the United States. I am not without influence. I can probably help.'
'You'd think so, wouldn't you?'
The phone rang. He picked it up. 'Yes, I know, I'll be down in a minute.'
He bent down and kissed his wife on the cheek. 'I'll come back up and check on you later.'
'After the women's basketball team.'
'Just what I've always wanted to be around,' he quipped. 'A bunch of leggy women far taller than I am.'
'I've got some events too.'
'I'm going to have Cindy cancel them. You need to rest.'
'But-'
'Just rest.'
As he started to walk away she said, 'Danny, I will need you at some point. Will you be there for me?'
He knelt beside her, wrapped an arm around her shoulders. 'I will always be there for you, just like you have with me. Get some rest. I'll have them send up some coffee and something to eat. I don't like how thin you're getting. We need some more meat on those curves.' He gave her a kiss and left.
I have always been there for you, Danny. Always.
CHAPTER 67
MICHELLE PUT THE SUV in park and climbed out. Her shoes touched hardened dirt and she looked up at the old house with the dying tree, the rotting tire swing, the skeleton truck up on blocks in the back.
She glanced across the street. At the house where an old lady named Hazel Rose had once lived. Her house had been meticulous, the yard the same. Now the structure was beyond saving; a bare few inches from giving one last heave and falling down for good. Yet someone was living there. Toys were strewn across the front yard. She
