29

Monday. Sarah sat at her desk, wondering how she was going to get a handle on all the feeds.

Someone—Angus or Presley—had put up a few tweets and posts Saturday and Sunday. Her half day yesterday had been taken up by Casey Cheng and the FBI. A hastily assembled statement about how they were “devastated,” a few lines from Matt about how he would continue to represent San Diego, that the campaign would go on. There was a video of Matt’s hospital press conference from a local news station. Thank god the photo of her and Ben in the park hadn’t been posted. She didn’t think she could take that.

There were many comments and replies. Most of them were supportive.

“Take screenshots of any responses you get that are threatening,” the man from the FBI had said. “And please don’t delete them unless you absolutely have to. They’re probably nothing to worry about, but we may want to track some of these users.”

Did they really intend to?

“Of course we’ll be monitoring the accounts as well. Please be assured that we take this very seriously.”

Maybe they actually did, since Matt was involved.

She scrolled through the comments on the Facebook page, feeling her shoulders, her jaw, her stomach, everything tense up, clenching like a fist.

Wait till criminal matt cason gets his ass thrown in jail he is crooked as they come

Cason’s a thug. I like that in my congressman!

Cason and his pals scrambling to make it legal for illegals, child molesters and rapist to vote … .#TrueMen will push back

I shouldn’t have to do this, she thought, why are they making me do this? Then she remembered, no one was making her do it. She’d agreed to it. This was part of the job, and she’d wanted the job.

At least they weren’t talking about her.

The News 9 segment hadn’t turned out too bad. Casey Cheng had done what she’d promised—focused on what had happened in the park. Sarah’s face wasn’t even in it that much, except for when she’d talked about Ben—they’d used a lot of what she’d said as a voice-over. The footage she’d given them from the park had helped with that. There was only so much time in a local news segment, and of course they’d want to use the stuff she’d shot, stuff nobody else had seen.

Just like she’d thought they would.

The FBI man was unhappy that she’d shared the footage with News 9. “Material like that is evidence,” he’d said. “Releasing it publicly can taint it.”

How? she’d wanted to say. The recordings showed what they showed. The speech Matt had given to thank first responders. The compassion and kindness he’d shown toward an unstable veteran. Henry James Olivier was his name. He’d never been in combat, as it turned out, or in any kind of dangerous posting. Booted out on a bad conduct discharge, problems with drugs and alcohol.

She remembered just now how Matt had looked at her when he was comforting the man. That half smile. Like the two of them were sharing a secret.

Her phone rang. The ringtone for Communications.

She hesitated.

You have to answer it, she told herself. It’s your direct line. It’s probably okay.

She picked up the phone. “Hello, Communications.”

“Sarah?”

She thought she recognized his voice, but she wasn’t sure. She waited for him to say something.

“Sarah, it’s Wyatt. Wyatt Gray.”

He didn’t sound quite like himself. There was a strange edge to his voice that she hadn’t heard before. Something strained and uncertain.

“Hi, Wyatt.”

“Sarah, I’m so glad you’re okay. I saw the news like everybody else, and … it’s just terrible. I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’m fine,” she said, automatically. Because he almost sounded like he thought it was his fault, somehow. But it couldn’t be his fault. Could it? She could hear a deep inhale of breath.

“Listen, there’s a couple of things I need to tell you.”

“Okay, I’m listening.”

“The first is, the things in Cason’s past? They’re coming out.”

“What things?” she asked.

“His kicking the shit out of that punk made him look strong.” A laugh. “People, you know? They’re pretty sick sometimes. So, your opponent, the folks behind her, they will look for ways to turn that against him. I’m surprised all that didn’t get dug up the first time he ran, but no one thought he’d win that one, they didn’t take him seriously till too late. Didn’t do their homework.”

“What things?” she asked again.

A sigh. “Jesse Garcia. Maybe your campaign manager already knows, but tell her.”

She scribbled down the name. “Okay.”

“Second thing is, they’re gonna go after his service in Anbar, try to swift boat him with it.” A pause. “You do know what a swift boat is, right?”

“Yes,” she snapped. Just because she was young didn’t mean she was ignorant. “Turn your opponent’s strength into a weakness.”

A chuckle. “You’re smart. I knew you were.”

“How do you know all these things? Why are you doing this?” she blurted out. She just couldn’t take this today. It was too much.

“I’m a concerned citizen with access to some data, that’s all.”

Suddenly her thoughts slowed down. Don’t feel this now, she told herself. Think.

There weren’t that many possibilities. He could be someone close to Tegan’s campaign, a mole, or have a source there. He could be a ratfuck from Tegan or her allies. But so far his information had been good.

Or, he could be a third party, “with access to some data.”

“Who do you work for?” she asked.

“I can’t discuss that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t.” He sounded angry. Which was a first.

“So why do you want to help Matt? If that’s what you’re really doing?”

“Because things have gone too far,” he finally said.

What has gone too far? she wanted to scream. But there was a part of her that had already had an idea, even if it wasn’t what he meant.

Everything. Everything had gone too far. She had the sense that they were all rushing toward some cliff, being pushed there by something dark and angry that she couldn’t quite see, only sense.

“You’re talking about Tegan,” she said. “That her politics, her positions, they’re too extreme.”

A weary laugh. “Yeah, Sarah. Pretty much.”

“You’re some kind of whistleblower then?”

“Look, I’m taking a risk calling you.” Now he sounded angry again. “What you need to do is listen to what I said and try to get out ahead of it. You can, but you all are going to have to act quickly, before their narrative gets set in stone.”

“Fine,” she said. She was angry too. “Is there anything else?”

“There is.” A pause. When his voice came back, it was low and urgent. “You’re going to get outed, Sarah. They know who you are.”