'Let's just hope it doesn't come to that.'

After Foster left Jane said, 'What if Larry won't let you do what you need to do?'

'That's not going to happen, Jane.'

'Why not?'

'I'm still the president. And besides, I've led a charmed life. And my luck has not run out. Not yet.'

Jane looked away. 'Don't be too sure,' she said.

He glared at her. 'Whose side are you on, anyway?'

'I've been thinking about that all night now. And I haven't reached a decision yet.'

She left the cabin.

The president sat behind the desk and prayed that he could hold on just one more time.

CHAPTER 77

ARE YOU RUTH ANN?' asked Michelle, her eyes now on the woman and not the weapon.

'How you know my name?'

'Momma, they're with the government. They're here about Mr. Sam.'

'You be quiet 'bout Mr. Sam, boy.'

'Ruth Ann,' said Sean, 'we don't want anyone to get hurt, but we think this Mr. Sam has kidnapped a little girl named Willa Dutton.'

'No he ain't!' Her finger tightened on the trigger.

'Momma, I saw the name down in the room. And her picture. We saw it on the TV.'

'Hush up, Gabriel. I ain't telling you again.'

'A little girl's life is at stake,' said Michelle. 'A little girl not much older than Gabriel.'

'Mr. Sam ain't hurting nobody. He ain't like that.'

'Miss Tippi's gone, Momma,' said Gabriel.

Ruth Ann's jaw went slack. 'What!'

'She's not in her room. Mr. Sam took her.'

'Took her where?'

'Don't know.'

'Ruth Ann, if you let us just look through the house, and we find nothing wrong, we'll leave,' said Sean. 'All we want to do is find Willa and take her back to her family.'

'That the little girl what her momma got killed?' said Ruth Ann, her grip on the shotgun loosening a bit.

'That's the one.'

'What Mr. Sam got to do with that? You tell me!'

'He may have nothing to do with it. And if he doesn't, then nothing happens to him. It's that simple. And if you don't believe he's involved than you shouldn't have a problem with us looking around,' said Michelle.

'Please, Momma, let 'em.'

'Why you so all fired on them doing this, Gabriel?'

' 'Cause it's the right thing to do. Mr. Sam, he'd say the same thing if he were here.'

Ruth Ann stared at her son for a long moment, then lowered the shotgun and stepped back.

Sean and Michelle hurried into the foyer of Atlee and stared around.

'Like stepping back into the past,' muttered Sean.

Michelle had her attention on the woman who trailed them. 'Ruth Ann, I'd like you to put that gun down and step away from it. Now.' Michelle had her hand on the butt of her pistol.

'Do it, Momma!' Gabriel had tears in his eyes.

Ruth Ann did as she was told and Michelle snagged the gun and emptied out the ammo.

'Gabriel,' said Sean. 'What's this room you're talking about?'

They trooped down the stairs to the massive door.

'I don't have the keys. Mr. Sam has 'em.'

'Step back,' said Michelle firmly. They did and she took aim and placed two shots on either side of the lock. Then she holstered her gun, leapt across the space of the hall and leveled a crushing kick right where the lock connected with the doorjamb. It crashed open as Gabriel stared wide-eyed at the woman. Then he glanced over at Sean, who shrugged and smiled.

'She's always been kind of a show-off,' he said.

They rushed into the room and Gabriel punched the light switch. When Sean and Michelle saw what was on the walls, their mouths gaped. Photos, index cards, written notes on chalkboards, pushpins, string connecting this part and that part.

Sean said, 'Gabriel and Ruth Ann, do you know what any of this means?'

'No sir,' said Ruth Ann.

'Who would have done all this?' he asked.

'Mr. Sam,' said Gabriel. He added, 'I came down here one night when he wasn't around. That's when I saw the picture of that girl, right there.'

He pointed to a section of wall. A moment later Sean and Michelle were staring at a photo of Willa.

When Sean's gaze swung around the walls he froze on one spot. 'Ruth Ann, Gabriel, you need to wait outside.'

'What?' said Gabriel. 'Why?'

'Outside, right now!'

He hustled them through the doorway and then closed it, returning to stare at the picture of the woman.

'Sean, what is it?'

'You remember me telling you how I met Jane Cox?'

'Yeah, you brought her drunken senator husband home after you found him in a car with some tramp.'

Sean pointed at the picture. 'That's the tramp.'

It was a picture of a younger Diane Wohl.

Michelle eyeballed the photo. 'She was with Cox?'

Sean nodded. 'The name next to the photo says Diane Wohl, but that's not the name she used back then. I mean her first name I think was Diane, but I don't remember Wohl.'

'She might have changed it, or gotten married.' She gazed at another spot where a string from Wohl's name intersected with another index card.

'Diane Wright? That ring any bells?' she read off the card.

'That's it. That was her name!'

He pointed to a recent newspaper article pinned next to the photo. It reported the disappearance and presumed kidnapping of Diane Wohl from Georgia.

'He's got Diane Wright too,' said Sean. He pointed to the walls. 'This all tells a story, Michelle. Quarry has put all this together.'

She pointed to the far left side of the room. 'And I think it starts there.'

At the very beginning of this wall there was written a calendar date from nearly fourteen years ago.

Michelle read the four words written next to the date. 'He raped me, Daddy.'

Beside it was the name Tippi Quarry and next to that was a photo of Tippi in her hospital bed hooked up to life support. She turned to look at Sean. Her expression of panic was matched by his.

'Sean, I'm starting to get sick to my stomach.'

'Just keep going, Michelle. We have to keep going.'

They started following the story around the walls in the basement at Atlee.

When they had finished one entire wall Michelle said quietly, 'He raped her. Then they got her to have a back- alley abortion. The First Lady was involved.'

'She nearly bled out and ended up in a coma,' added Sean in a hollow voice.

'But if Cox raped her why didn't she report it to the police?' asked Sean.

'Maybe someone convinced her not to. Like Jane Cox. She's good at controlling people.'

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