Capital Offense

Carolyn strolled through the White House residence toward her bedroom. Down the hall, she thought she heard a giggle. She turned and followed the sound.

Secret Service Agent Martin Riggs stood in front of Warner’s bedroom door.

“I thought I heard a woman laughing,” Carolyn said to the agent.

The agent shifted on his feet, his expression pained.

Carolyn held up her hand. “Thank you for not lying to me.” She took a step toward Warner’s bedroom.

Riggs blocked her path. “I’m sorry, ma’am. But the president has requested his privacy.”

She met the agent’s gaze. “I don’t care what he’s requested, I’m still his wife.”

“I’d rather you didn’t, ma’am” Riggs searched her eyes. “For your own good.”

Carolyn moved past the agent and flung open the door. Shock held her. She blinked, not wanting to believe the tableau before her.

Warner sat naked on the bed. A stunning blond paused in the midst of her striptease at the interruption, while a nude redhead continued to massage Warner’s shoulders.

“What the fuck-” Warner said, turning to the door.

Carolyn thought she was ready for anything, but her vision swirled in a wave of dizziness at the sight of Warner’s debauchery. “What’s become of you. Warner?”

He laughed. “I’d have invited you. Carolyn, but this just didn’t seem like your style.”

Agent Riggs caught Carolyn by the elbow as her knees buckled. He guided her out of the room, holding her steady until she whispered, “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am”

She squared her shoulders a moment later and walked away with all the dignity she possessed. And as she walked, she vowed to repay Warner for the humiliation he obviously enjoyed dispensing.

SIXTY-SEVEN

April 9, 2001 – Washington, DC

Jack spent most of the weekend in bed, sleeping and healing. On Monday, Katherine reluctantly left him to so to work. Jack dragged himself out to Erma’s car and unloaded the box of files she had given him from her husband’s office.

Sitting at the kitchen table in Katherine’s town home, Jack reviewed file upon file. He grew increasingly frustrated when nothing regarding the Council was mentioned. He was about to quit when he noticed a small book hidden beneath the folds of the bottom of the cardboard box. At first glance, it appeared to be some sort of journal.

Jack skimmed the meticulously written pages. Apparently, Adam Miles had begun this journal six months before his death. He had logged daily events. Jack smiled when he read funny anecdotes about Erma. Jack doubted whether Erma had read any of this. He knew she hadn’t been able to bring herself to dispose of Adam’s clothing, and he doubted that she’d delved into his records.

Adam revealed a great deal about his businesses, thoughts, plans, and concerns in his notes. As Jack read, a story began to untold of two friends. Adam and Edmund Lane. The two men had been very close, but their differences eventually ruined their friendship. Jack read on.

Edmund is furious at Mort for having taken on Carolyn as a business partner. He feels it’s dangerous. Dangerous for whom? Jack wondered.

Winston Cain is becoming a regular fixture, and Carolyn is using him now. Jack’s heartbeat quickened. The “C” signature on the E-mail to Cain must have been Carolyn.

Jack set aside the book and went to Katherine’s computer. He logged on and pulled up the outgoing mail file from the E-mail for Cleopatral600.com. Jack inhaled sharply.

Cain:

Rudly’s in Missouri. Eliminate the problem.

C

SIXTY-EIGHT

Carolyn sat on a couch in the Oval Office across from Warner. She forced the image of the most recent humiliation she had suffered at his hands from her mind, determined to concentrate on her goals. Katherine sat next to her, providing support without being aware of the depth of Carolyn’s pain.

“These ideas may seem extreme, Warner, but we’re losing our war on drugs. Stricter laws and enforcement help, but I believe we need more than that. We need to cut the drug lords off economically, just as we would any country with whom we were at war,” Carolyn said. “I believe we have devised a way to limit the economy of the drug trade.”

Warner leaned forward. “So what you’re proposing is to eliminate, or at least limit, the market available to the drug trade by drug testing.”

“I know we get into some constitutional issues with this approach, but we are far beyond a crisis in this country. We need to address the greater cause – if we truly want to stop drugs in America.” Carolyn took a sip of water. “This program would also deal with problems in the welfare system and even foster care.”

“It’s really no different than employee drug testing,” Katherine said.

Warner’s gaze never left Carolyn’s face. “This is brilliant. It’s simple, yet brilliant. Unfortunately, we’ll have to shelve it for now.”