DUMPING HIS GEAR on the taupe leather sofa that hid a pullout bed, Mitch surveyed the ground floor of Clay Wainwright’s cottage on Keuka Lake. “This basement’s nicer than my place in D.C.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call this a basement.” C.J. yelled out her answer from across the hall, where she was stowing her things. “It’s nicer than my apartment, too.”
The ground floor had been specially built to function as the command post for the Secret Service. When more space than the six-person trailer on the back property was needed to house agents, some bunked down here. The room Mitch would occupy had a corner desk area with a fax/copier/phone system, the service’s interactive radio network and monitors for the closed-circuit TVs, as well as the pullout. It was the center for agent communications, where they contacted the outside world and each other. Opposite that space was a room with another couch and pullout bed, where C.J. would sleep. It sported an exercise area, with a treadmill, punching bag and free weights.
The entire cottage was a showplace. The sketches she’d studied hadn’t done it justice. Built into the side of a hill, this lower level had two rooms, a big bath and a sunroom facing the lake, with a walkout to its own stone patio. The main floor had rooms in the back and a larger sunroom and deck affording the breathtaking panoramic view. The lapping of the water on the shore, along with the smell of the seaweed and surrounding earth and grass, permeated the entire house.
When C.J. finished unpacking, she crossed to Mitch’s side. “What time are we meeting with everybody?”
“Twenty-one hundred.”
“We’d better get upstairs.” She tugged at the collar of her white starched shirt. “It’s hot in here.”
“The air-conditioning isn’t on but the windows should cool things off soon.”
There were rows of windows on each side of the downstairs and floor-to-ceiling ones in the sunroom, all bulletproof. There was always some debate about whether the windows should be opened, but the Second Lady loved fresh air, and she usually won out.
They climbed the staircase to the first level. The sun-room up here was filled with overstuffed furniture and a wood-burning stove. Behind it was a huge kitchen with a center island the size of a bed, gleaming appliances and warm chestnut cabinetry. Off that was a dining area, behind it a bedroom and bath where Mr. and Mrs. O’Neil would stay. Tucked in a corner was the vice president’s den. Upstairs were two small bedrooms and the Wainwrights’ suite.
The huge banks of first-floor windows were open, letting in a warm breeze. Everyone wandered into the sun-room by eleven, except Aidan. Bailey had settled on one of the nubby white couches with a sleeping Angel, dressed in a pink romper and sprawled half on her mother, half on the cushions. Rory was playing a video game with his cousin Mikey. Though the two of them were the same age—seven—and had the O’Neil looks, Mikey seemed younger and more fragile than Rory. Ma and Pa O’Neil were on the other sofa, sitting close. The Wainwright family black Lab, Hower, named after former Republican President Dwight D. Eisenhower, whose foreign policies Clay admired, lay in a pool of sunshine near the window.
Bailey addressed Mitch. “Ready to start?”
“Your brother’s not here.”
“Yeah, I am.”
Turning, C.J. saw that Aidan had come down the stairs. He wore simple navy trunks and a light blue T-shirt that outlined muscles she didn’t know he had. Nice ones. His dark hair—a bit long—caught the rays that peeked in through the windows. “I was changing so me and the guys can hit the water after we get our orders.”
Mitch chuckled. “We’ll be brief.” They’d already done some groundwork, assigning rooms, talking about the security alarms and the closed-circuit TV for the outdoors. “We have a few more ground rules, and want to fill you in on what we found out in our advance visit.”
“Advance visit?” Pa O’Neil asked.
“As Vice President Wainwright mentioned in the hospital, before the protectee arrives on-site, a team of agents goes in to check out the area: to get the lay of the land, touch base with local law enforcement, sweep the house, secure the grounds. We already had much of this completed because of Jon’s stay at the cottage, but things were rechecked for Ms. O’Neil’s visit. Since you decided so quickly to come up here, and Jon’s visit required a different level of background checks, we have the bare minimum advance work done and will continue to receive information, particularly on the Watch List.”
At the parents’ questioning look, Mitch explained that the Watch List was crucial to security. It was composed of people residing in the area who might have reason to harm either the vice president or Ms. O’Neil. The service would check out any people who’ve been released from jail that might have a grudge against either of them. They also took note of any known criminals in the area who had nothing to do with the two of them.
Aidan asked, “Should Rory and Mikey be hearing this?”
“I’m afraid so,” Mitch answered. “They need to be on their guard.” He smiled easily. “Rory’s used to this.”
“Not Mikey. “ Aidan crossed to where the kids were sitting and dropped down next to his nephew. “You okay, buddy? This scare you?”
“I’m okay.” He nodded to the TV. “I’m beating Rory.”
“Nuh-uh.”
Aidan locked a hand around Mike’s neck affectionately. Despite her pique at him, C.J. could appreciate his sensitivity on how this discussion might affect the boy.
“Did you find anything new on the Watch List?” Bailey asked, brushing back Angel’s damp hair.
Mitch scowled. “The NRA group that meets in Hammondsport, the town on the west end of the lake, is still grumbling about the vice president’s vote on the last gun control bill.”
C.J. added, “And we’re constantly checking on the ramifications of some of the controversial things you’ve done since becoming Second Lady, Ms. O’Neil. And before.”
The air literally stilled. The O’Neil family wasn’t totally aware of what the service did to keep their daughter safe—and why. The agents tried to be careful not to alarm the family. “Before?” Ma O’Neil asked. “Like with the gang stuff?”
“Yes. Ms. O’Neil made some enemies previous to becoming the vice president’s wife.”
Bailey cocked her head. “Far as I know, the GGs are out of commission. “ She bit her lip. “And the person arrested for Taz’s murder is still in jail, right?”
Taz Gomez was a girl Bailey had tried to get out of a gang. Instead, the gang had killed her.
Mitch leafed through his notes. “Yes, Mazie Lennon’s in jail. She was the only one indicted. Other GGs were rounded up, but they weren’t with Lennon when she killed Taz, either. Some of those kids were sent to minimum security prisons, and some were let go. They’re scattered all over now; the few homegirls left in the city don’t appear to be involved in gang activity.”
The Second Lady focused on her mother. “The guys at ESCAPE” —the anti–youth gang organization where Bailey used to work— “have kept me up on most of that, Ma.”
“Typical,” Aidan said. “My sister can’t quite give up her wings.” He was referring to Bailey’s nickname, the Street Angel.
“Let’s spell out the rules for the month,” C.J. suggested. “Then you can be on your way.”
“They’re simple.” Mitch addressed the kids first. “Listen up now, Rory. Mike.”
The boys stopped playing and sidled in close to Aidan. He tugged Mikey onto his lap. The movement roused Hower, who crossed to Aidan and got a few licks on his face. Aidan ruffled the dog’s fur.
“Rory, you, your mom and Angel can’t go anywhere outside of the house without one of us.”
Rory threw his sleeping sister a disgusted look. “All she ever does is crash into things when she walks anyway. She can’t go nowhere alone.”
“Well, this is for you, then. Usually it will be Agent Ludzecky or me accompanying you. Sometimes the agents on the second perimeter, Agent Gorman, or Agent Grayson, might fill in during the day. Other agents are here for night duty. They’ll stay awake while we sleep.”
He went on to explain the setup of guards: The president and vice president had three perimeters of security around them. One either inside the house or stationed at the door outside, or accompanying them in a car. At the lake, there were two agents posted near the security fence, and patrolling the gated-in area around the house. Finally, uniforms were responsible for the outer perimeter of the property, and covering the lakefront, along with the cameras on the roof.
Aidan gave a low whistle. “That must cost a bundle.”
C.J. shot him an annoyed look. Though there was nothing exactly deprecating in his tone, he seemed to have a lot of criticism rolling off his tongue. It made her say, “I would hope you’d think it well worth the cost, Mr. O’Neil.”
“Of course I do!” he snapped.
“In any case,” Mitch continued with a frown, “we’ll try to remain as unobtrusive as we can. C.J. and I will be either right outside the house, or in the basement command post. Unless there’s an immediate threat, then we’ll stay right in the room with Ms. O’Neil and the kids.”
C.J. studied the little boys. Mikey had turned his face into Aidan’s chest. Rory was fiddling with the remote. “Do you understand all this, Rory?”
“Yep. Outside I gotta be with you or Mitch.” His eyebrows lifted. “Daddy will paddle my butt if I don’t.”
Bailey frowned. “We never spank you, Rory!”
“Daddy said he would. If I went any place alone.”
“I’ll be mad, Ror, which is worse. Like the time you followed Hower out of Uncle Patrick’s yard while Agent Calloway was by the swings with Anika and Angel.”
“Oops.” Rory slapped his hands over his mouth, his eyes alight with the devil.
“And you have your panic button, right?” C.J. asked.
“Huh?”
“Your ‘help me’ button,” Mitch explained. He was more used to this detail than she was. And better with the kids. For a minute, the image of her nephews and nieces flashed through C.J.’s mind. How long had it been since she’d seen them? She caught Aidan staring at her and averted her gaze.
“I got it.” Rory pulled out a chain from inside his T-shirt. Hooked to it was a small oblong device that when pressed, alerted the agents that something was wrong. Bailey and Clay had them, too. “Do I have to wear this swimming?”
“No. Either Agent Ludzecky or I can hold it.”
In a half hour, they finished with the details. Seeming somewhat dazed, Ma and Pa O’Neil went to sit outside on the second-level deck.
“Can we go now?” Rory asked.
“Yes. C.J. will be with you.”
She narrowed her eyes on Mitch. “What will you do?”
He looked to Bailey. She said, “I’m going to lie down out here in the sunroom with Angel.”
“Okay, I’ll be in the command post. We still have to update our list of area residents.”
“Looks like us guys got Agent L.” Aidan faced her. “We’ll wait till you change.”
“Change what?”
“Your clothes.”
“I’m not going to change my clothes.”
“You’ll die of heatstroke out there in the sun this time of day.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
Exasperated by his pushiness, she looked to Bailey for help.
“Sorry, C.J. I agree. As a matter of fact, this might be a good time to tell you that those suits have to go. I want the agents to dress casually while we’re here.” She addressed Mitch. “Like last summer.”
“Ms. O’Neil...” C.J. began.
“C.J., I’ve agreed to everything you want us to do. We’re going to be sensible and careful. We’ll obey your rules. But it’ll be more normal, especially for Ma and Pa and Mikey, if my agents wear summer clothes appropriate for the lake, like they have before.”
C.J. glanced down at her suit. “I don’t have any other clothes with me, except for workout gear.”
Mitch shrugged. “The rest of us do. Those of us who’ve been up here before. We know Ms. O’Neil likes it this way. And we were hoping we could dress down again.”
“Then C.J. and I will have to go shopping. My treat,” Bailey said yawning. She moved Angel to the inside of the couch and slid down next to her. Discussion of the matter was apparently over.
“Come on, C.J.,” Rory said, grabbing for her hand. “Let’s go.”
She sighed, thinking this assignment wasn’t going to be an easy one. At least not for her. She was beginning to feel more a part of the family than a guard posted here to protect them.
o0o
“SWIRL ME around, Uncle Aidan.” Rory’s voice rang out in the crystal-clear afternoon amid the whoosh of the waves and the purr of the boats. Somebody on a jet ski whizzed by and waved to them. Aidan waved back. When he turned, he saw Agent Ludzecky had come to the edge of the dock and was checking out the skier through binoculars. They shaded her eyes, but he didn’t need to see the expression in them. Her entire body language spoke for her—alert, poised, ready to swing into action at any moment. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why that vigilance irritated him.
Picking up Rory, Aidan swung him around, then dropped him in the lake. Dunked, Rory surfaced easily because the water was only to his chest. Mikey stood on the dock, a few feet away from C.J., Hower nuzzling at his side. He looked forlorn. “Want a swirl, Mike?” Aidan asked.
Shaking his head, he knelt down and petted the animal, buried himself in warm doggy fur. The kid was not doing well. Liam said that since Pa’s heart attack, Mikey was reverting back to the behavior he’d demonstrated in the weeks after Bailey left for Washington.
“Can I dive off the barge, Uncle A.?” Rory glanced up at C.J. “I can swim. But I gotta wear my vest.” This nephew was fearless, outgoing, risk taking. A lot like his mom.
Before Aidan could answer, Agent Ludzecky did. “No, Rory. You can’t swim to the barge unless I go with you.”
“You don’t have a suit on.”
Aidan rolled his eyes. After the exchange with Bailey about clothes in the house, Aidan had caught up with her downstairs.
Did you even bring a suit?
Um, yes.
Shorts?
She’d raised her chin defensively. I said I didn’t bring casual clothes. I only brought a suit in case I need to go into the water with Rory.
If you feel self-conscious about wearing it in public, you can borrow a T-shirt from me.
I’d never wear your clothes.
She’d looked so horrified, he said, Women usually like that offer from me.
I’m not a woman. I’m a federal agent...
Shielding his eyes from the sun, Aidan also looked up at her. “I can watch Rory. And we’ll put the life vest on him, like he said.”
“No. I’d have to get the boat out to check the barge first. Then I’m required to follow you out.”
“Isn’t this a little excessive? No one’s around.”
“First off, anyone could be hiding on the other side of that barge ready to pounce.”
Remembering that the danger to the vice president’s family was mostly kidnapping shut Aidan up.
“Second, somebody could come by on the lake, like that skier.”
Rory glared at her. He was used to restrictions by now, but he was a little boy and didn’t like them. “Go anyway, Uncle A. Do a cannonball for us.”
She shook her head. “You can’t do that, either, Mr. O’Neil. You have to watch Mikey by the water. Rory’s my sole responsibility.”
“You can watch me and Mikey. We’re little.” Rory’s tone was turning whiny. “And we’ll be good.”
“No, Rory. I have to focus on you.”
“For Christ’s sake, can’t you give an inch? The whole month’ll be ruined if you’re this much of a stickler.”
Still, she hesitated.
“I’ll stay on the dock, I promise,” Mike said. His chin was down and it was obvious that he knew he was causing problems. “You can watch Rory in the water.”
“Come on,” Aidan said, even more irked that she was causing Mikey grief.
“I guess I could get in the water with him while you swim out. “ She nodded to Mike. “Stay down at this end of the dock, okay?”
“ ’Kay.” He trudged toward the shore with Hower at his heels.
C.J. shrugged off her jacket, revealing her holster and gun. Aidan could see the chain for Rory’s panic button around her neck. Then she took off her shoes, socks, and rolled up her pants and shirtsleeves. She had nice calves and arms, finely toned. Agent Ludzecky was in good shape.
When she was in the water up to her knees, Rory said, “We’ll count.”
“Count?”
“It’s a game. To see how fast I can get out there.” Aidan arched a brow. “You remember games, don’t you, Agent Ludzecky?”
C.J. was miffed now. “Just go.”
Squinting into the sun, she watched the path Aidan took. He was a strong swimmer. He had back and arm muscles that made his long powerful strokes impressive. C.J. looked away from the disturbing sight and focused on Rory, keeping a peripheral view of Mikey on the dock. She’d committed a breach of protocol by allowing her attention to be divided and wasn’t happy about it. But she had been strict since they got here, and she could see that it was making the O’Neil parents nervous and the brother angry. Besides, the talk had upset Mikey, which she hated to see. To compensate, she stationed herself equidistant between him and Rory. The water was warm and she liked how it lapped around her legs. Combined with the breeze, and the adjustment of her clothing, she felt a lot cooler.
Rory was counting but it was obvious he was growing bored. Mikey and Hower were on the grass, playing fetch the stick. Liam’s son seemed comfortable with animals, probably since he didn’t have to talk to them. C.J. remembered how one of her sisters, more quiet than the others, related to their dog, Yenko.
In a few minutes, Aidan reached the barge and hiked himself up onto it. He waved to them. Rory waved back, and yelled for Mikey to look just as Aidan did a cannonball into the water. The splash caught Hower’s attention; the Lab began barking and jumping up and down, then galloped to the far end of the dock. Mikey followed him.
“Mike, don’t—”
The warning came too late.
Mikey reached the end of the dock.
Hower lashed around. The front of his torso hit Mikey.
Who fell into the over-his-head water and went under. C.J. pressed the panic button around her neck, then dove into the shallow water and swam the short distance to Mikey, who’d floated to the top. Plucking him out of the lake, she saw blood on his forehead. He was logy. She grabbed him up to her chest in a carry.
It took only seconds to get to Rory. Encircling him with one arm, still hefting up Mike with the other, she dragged them both toward the shore. As deadweight, Mikey strained the muscles in her arm and shoulder.
By the time she got to the grass, Mitch had arrived. “What happened?”
“Mikey fell off the dock into the water. He must have hit his head on the wood.” She stretched the little boy out. “It stunned him, I guess.”
“He’s conscious. The cut doesn’t look too bad.”
“My head hurts.” The kid’s voice was raspy.
“You’re okay, sweetie, we’re here to help you.”
“I want my mommy.” His mother had been dead for three years. He reached for C.J.’s hand. “Mommy.”
She swallowed back the emotion.
Mitch’s breath evened out and he knelt down. “Where the hell is Aidan? Why wasn’t he watching Mikey?”
“He swam out to the barge. I was watching both boys.”
“Your only responsibility is Rory.”
From behind, she heard, “I talked C.J. into keeping an eye on Mike.” She turned to find a dripping wet Aidan had come up to them.
Mitch zeroed on her. “Let’s take care of the boy, then you and I need to talk, Agent Ludzecky.”