AFTER SHOOTING Nick an apologetic smile, Kate answered the phone, wishing her hands weren’t shaking quite so much.
“Kate, are you okay?”
“Yes, no damage here. What about you and your family?”
Wes released a heavy breath. “We made it through fairly unscathed, but we’re one of the few lucky ones. Our area got hit. Bad.” Tension filled his voice. “Not just our area but lots of neighborhoods, towns. From the reports I’ve received, the tornadoes ran right up between the Parkway and I-85. There’s massive destruction from the Beltway to Baltimore.” He paused. “Kate . . . we need your help.”
“Anything, you know that. Just tell me what I can do to help you.”
“It’s not just for us, but for everyone else who has been affected. We’ve already set up several churches as shelters, but we’re going to need a lot more in the way of disaster relief because there are so many different communities that have been hit. Two of the major area hospitals have taken heavy damage, so they can take only the most critically injured patients.” He lowered his voice. “I know I’m circumventing a system that will eventually start to function, but we need help now, Kate. And if I have a direct pipeline into the White House . . .”
“You need to use it,” she said, finishing his statement. “I understand completely. I’ll do everything I can, and I’ll start right now by calling Emily. And then I’ll head your direction immediately. If I’m on-site, I can relay enough information to persuade her to declare it a disaster area and cut out any bureaucratic delays.”
“We’re working out of the church on Grant Avenue. We went there once together, remember? To talk to the minister about the restaurant donation program? It’ll be easy to find. It was spared when everything around it was literally flattened.”
She listened intently as he gave her directions. “I’ll get there as soon as possible, Wes. And I’ll get the cavalry there, one way or the other.”
As soon as she hung up, Kate turned to answer the questions she knew Nick must have but, instead, saw him pick up his coat.
He struggled to push his arm through the sleeve. “Where are we headed to?”
She motioned for him to sit down. “You’re in no shape to go anywhere.”
He wore a look of strained but unwavering determination. “I repeat. Where are we headed to?”
Somehow she knew he wouldn’t back down, and she secretly appreciated his sense of resolve. “Wes says that the tornadoes did massive damage up in his area.” A sudden flash of revelation made her wrap her arms around herself. It so easily could have been here. . . .
She pushed past the overwhelming thought and continued. “There’s nothing much we can do about our own problems right now. So maybe changing gears and thinking about someone else is the better thing to do.”
He nodded. “I’m game. I’d like to forget . . . a lot of things —if only for a little while.”
She motioned for Nick to follow her into the kitchen, where she dug out more emergency supplies —a couple of flashlights, extra batteries, and the box of the latex gloves she’d gotten for her last painting project. “If I can get Emily to declare it a disaster area, we can probably get federal aid into the area faster than the individual communities can.”
He took the bag of supplies from her. “Nice to know we learned something from Katrina. I’d never seen a bigger boondoggle down there. It was . . . unbelievable.”
She reached into the hall closet and pulled out a hooded jacket, and he helped her put it on. “You were in Katrina?”
“I didn’t ride it out there but returned just as soon as I could afterward to help the family.” His face darkened. “I hope to never see anything like that again.”
“This may be bad too.”
“Couldn’t be any worse.” He shuddered as if the memory was too much to handle. “Nothing could have been worse than what I saw down in N’Orleans.”
“Maybe we’ll have a chance to do better this time,” she said, fishing her keys from her purse.
“Maybe . . .”
They ended up taking Nick’s truck rather than Kate’s car. Because the truck rode higher than a sedan, they could negotiate flooded streets without stalling and pick their way along debris-strewn roads with more clearance.
Once they reached the relative safety of the interstate, Kate called the president’s private line.
Emily answered the phone herself. “Kate, thank God! I’ve been trying to get you. Are you okay?”
“Fine.”
“Your mom and dad?”
“They’re fine too. But I talked to Wes and he says his area is a complete disaster.”
“We have reports coming in. Looks like from here to Baltimore caught the worst of it. Virginia dodged most of the bullets, but Maryland didn’t.”
“That’s what Wes said. I don’t have to see the area to realize we need to declare the area a disaster and get federal help in here as soon as possible.”
“I’ve already spoken to FEMA and Homeland. They have teams headed that way. Once I get their reports —”
“You know bureaucratic red tape. I’m headed there myself. Let me take a look and call you back with the recommendation. We can get a jump on things —get help to them faster. You trust my assessment, don’t you?”
To Emily’s credit, she didn’t hesitate at all. “Do you even have to ask? Of course. You give the word and I’ll move every bit of aid we have into the area. What’s the good of being president if you can’t jump a turnstile or two in order to help folks?”
It was the sort of sentiment she’d expect to hear from the old Emily and hadn’t heard much from the new one. It renewed her faith that there might still be a shred of her old friend buried within and all Kate had to do was fan that flicker back into a flame to heat up a colder heart.
“Thanks, M.” Kate closed her phone. “She’ll make the recommendation on my report.”
Nick’s expression didn’t change as he steered around a large tree branch that blocked the right lane. “It’s not going to be easy.”
“What? Being persuasive?”
“No. That’s the easy part. I’m talking about it not being easy to give up the right-hand seat —sitting next to Emily as she steers America.” His face softened. “I realize the power has to be . . . intoxicating sometimes.”
She thought about Emily’s quick and seemingly heartfelt promise to act on the strength of Kate’s assessment. “Who says I’m giving it up?”
“I just thought . . .” He clamped his mouth shut.
“I know.” She sighed. “After everything she’s done. But that call I just made? That’s an example of what can be done for all the right reasons. If I stay, I’ll still be in a position to influence her into doing the right things.”
“Operative word: if. But think about it. Can you watch her all the time? make sure she’s always doing the right thing? stop her when she’s veering from the path?”
They were questions she had asked and would continue to ask herself. “That’s the hard part,” Kate admitted. “And I don’t know those answers.” She paused, mulling over his original question. “Not yet, at least. But as to the power being intoxicating? It can be sometimes.”
“The trouble with intoxicating is that it can so easily turn to addiction. I know that all too well.” After a moment, he added, “I’ve always admired you for your ability to resist the allure of power. Hang on,” he said without pause.
She braced herself as he pulled onto the shoulder of the interstate to avoid a twisted piece of sheet metal stretching across all lanes. “Did I? Resist, that is?”
“As far as I know.” He quirked a small smile, not turning his gaze from the challenges of driving.
“From my experience, I’ve seen how power can blind you into presuming you know best. So what about this situation? Aren’t I doing the same by attempting to go over the heads of several highly trained teams of government investigators who do disaster assessment for a living? That I think I’m just as capable —no, more capable —than they are to make the call? That’s pretty presumptuous and power mad of me, don’t you think?”
He tilted his head as if conceding there was a sense of accuracy in her assessment. “True.”
She waited for him to explain why her planned actions were actually warranted. He said nothing.
“You were supposed to say, ‘No, Kate, you’re not power mad.’ So you think I’m making a mistake?”
“Not at all.”
“Then what?”
“Then nothing. I think you’re doing the right thing for the right reasons and using the power of the office to make it so. You’re in a position to help, maybe better than anyone else, maybe not. But what I do know is that any decision you make, you’re not doing it for fame, for fortune, for position, or for praise.” He offered her a smile that spoke of something more than just friendship, of something beyond. “That’s the difference between you and M. With her, you always have to look out and look deep for the hidden agenda. I’m here because I trust you and your instincts. Implicitly.”
They rode in silence as the hazards of driving dominated their attention. Between impassable roadways and detours, Kate realized their half-hour trip was going to take well over an hour, if not two. They were stopped a half-dozen times by authorities but were allowed to pass thanks to Kate’s credentials and their reconnaissance mission, mandated by the president.
Driving became even more hazardous as they reached the affected area. They had to be careful to dodge the flotsam and jetsam left behind by the twisters, including the downed power lines. Finally they found a partially open route to the church and ended up parking a couple blocks shy of the building in a lot that had evidently once held a child-care facility.
However, the tornado had swept the place clean. Nothing remained of the building but the playground equipment, its bright colors muted by debris.
A large crowd of people were already working in the church, which thankfully still had electricity. Kate found Wes in the center of a knot of men and women, poring over a map. When Wes saw her, his face brightened perceptibly. He motioned for her to join them and gave her a small hug when she arrived. He pointedly ignored Nick, who faded into the background with a quick nod.
“Guys, this is Kate. She’s here to help.” Wes didn’t mention her position or how she could help, but the men seemed to accept her worth solely on his word.
He turned to her like a major briefing a general. “We’ve been canvassing the area, getting reports from other church groups who run disaster teams. We formed a network after Katrina, hoping to pool our resources, our volunteers, and our information. Because of that, we’ve got a pretty accurate picture of the devastation.” He pointed to the map, which had been heavily marked up.
“The red Xs mark the homes that have substantial damage. The blue Xs mark damage to schools, hospitals, and medical offices; orange marks the more critical retailers like grocery stores, drugstores, etc.”
Kate studied the map, noticing the cluster of Xs, obviously areas hit hard, but also noted isolated blue Xs in places where no other damage had been reported. “Some of these aren’t clumped with the others, but standing off by themselves. Are you still waiting for information in those areas?”
“No, those are cases of isolated damage.” His expression darkened. “Diane, you tell her.”
A small Asian woman spoke as she pointed to each of the blue Xs. “North Higgins, Liberty Tree, Copeland . . . they’re schools,” she said quietly. “Elementary schools, actually, and all of them are less than three years old.”
“Just elementary schools.”
Another man standing in the circle stepped forward. “Cal Grant, ma’am. The area’s been growing fast, so the four counties have been popping up elementary schools in the new neighborhoods.”
“But other businesses and homes near the schools weren’t damaged, right?”
“There are only reports of minor damage in the houses and other buildings near the schools.” The man stiffened. “It’s shoddy workmanship, if you ask me.” He turned to Wes. “Tell her about Frances Latham.”
The name was familiar, but Kate couldn’t quite remember the person. “Who’s she?”
Wes released a ragged sigh. “Not a who in this case, but a what. Frances Latham Elementary —one of the newest schools in Montgomery County. It’s only eight months old. Their fifth- and sixth-grade classes were holding an all-night readathon when the building collapsed on them. They huddled in the hallways for safety, but . . .”
Another man stepped forward, obviously trying to control his anger. “Hallways that were supposed to be fortified against just this sort of problem. In a brand-new building . . .” He bit off his next comment as if censoring himself. “Two dozen kids were injured, three seriously.”
Kate felt as if someone had reached into her chest and wrapped a hand around her heart and begun to squeeze. “That’s unconscionable.”
Nick took that moment to break his self-imposed silence and nonparticipation to step into the circle of people. “It’s graft. I’ve seen it before.”
Wes remained silent, his arms folded tightly across his chest. Kate couldn’t tell if his dubious look was meant for the message or the messenger.
Nick continued despite Wes’s censuring posture. “I bet you’ll discover that only one or two construction companies had the contract to build all these schools. When you have to pay kickbacks, the money has to come from somewhere. Using substandard materials is the easiest way to make up the shortfall.”
Kate studied the map.
Nick pointed to three of the blue Xs isolated on the map from the other clusters. “Schools just don’t collapse in areas where no other damage had been reported.”
Kate felt a shiver course up her spine. When Emily had talked about her family’s involvement in the Virginia toll road debacle, she had bragged that, because of her family’s construction companies, the roadway had been built well, under budget, and on time. Her sense of pride for a job very well done had eclipsed the pesky notion of the illegality of nepotistic contracts.
But this was different.
A voice spoke up. “It wasn’t just here.” One of the men who had hovered just beyond the circle stepped closer. “When that first wave of storms hit earlier —Friday morning —my son-in-law in North Carolina told me they lost three schools in their area. Luckily not the one my grandkids attend.” He lowered his voice. “School was in session at the time.”
Kate immediately thought about her own nieces. Amy, the oldest, was in first grade.
People began to add their stories and locations of damage. Although most of the evidence was hearsay and unsubstantiated, an unsavory picture was forming. It wasn’t just one school district in Maryland but something on a larger scale, involving schools in multiple states.
Kate knew without hesitation that President Emily Benton would see to it that a full investigation would be instigated in order to guarantee that the proper heads rolled for taking illegal building shortcuts that endangered children.
She pulled out her cell phone and hit speed dial.
“Who’s she calling?” one man whispered.
“You’ll see,” she heard Wes answer. “I promised we’d get help. And she’s getting it for us.”
Kate stepped out of the circle, but not far enough to keep her conversation completely private. She wanted the people there to know that real help was coming and who was sending it.
Emily picked up on the third ring.
“Madam President? It’s Kate Rosen.”
“Oh, boy . . . with this much formality? It’s not good, is it?”
“It’s worse than we thought.”
“Break it to me gently.”
“Not only is there widespread destruction —entire communities completely torn apart —but there’s a disturbing pattern of destruction in the new elementary schools in the area. Practically every new grade school in a —” she turned back to Wes, who mouthed, Thirty —“thirty-mile radius has been literally blown apart whether any other structure in the immediate area was affected or not. On top of the widespread tornado destruction, I think we’ve stumbled into a serious problem with construction irregularities. I’m hearing unofficial reports of similar problems in other states.”
Emily uttered an expletive. “This is not what I wanted to hear. Okay, I’m calling the Maryland governor, and he and I will make the declaration immediately. Tell them to hang on and I’ll get help there as soon as possible.”
“I’ll tell Wes.”
“He’s there? Let me talk to him.”
Kate motioned for Wes and held out the phone. “The president would like to talk to you.”
He managed a small smile as he held the phone to his ear. “Madam President?” He listened intently, his formal answers dissolving from a staunch “Yes, ma’am” to “Yes” to “Sure” and ending up with a soft “You got it, M,” indicating that he’d stopped talking to the president and, instead, was getting assurances from a good friend. He even laughed once.
“I’ll tell her. Thanks, Emily.”
He handed Kate the phone back. “She’s going to do it now.”
Kate pocketed her phone with a nod, then turned to the assembled crowd, which had grown larger during the call. “Ladies and gentlemen, the president is prepared to declare this a disaster area. Federal aid will be mobilized immediately. And I’ll see to it personally that an investigation is started into the problems you’ve identified with school construction here and the other locations you’ve mentioned, as well as any other reports of damage that come up.”
After her little grandstand play —Kate couldn’t describe it as anything else —she and Nick pitched in, two more sets of hands to help settle the newly homeless, get names, and offer sympathy, a cup of coffee, and an ear.
At one point, she lost track of Nick and finally found him sitting on the floor, surrounded by a group of small children whom he was keeping enrapt with some wild tale, judging by his grand hand gestures and their wide-eyed stares.
“Quite a transformation.”
Kate turned and realized Wes had stepped up next to her.
“I remember meeting him some time ago. He’s not the same man that Emily married. And divorced,” he added pointedly.
He gave Nick a critical once-over. “What changed him?”
“God. And AA.”
Wes nodded. “Good combination.” They both watched as Nick continued to entertain the children. “I have to admit he seems to know what people —what each individual —needs. I’ve been watching him. A quick smile for the kids, a shoulder for the elderly who want to talk, a good word for everyone. And he seems genuinely interested.”
“He’s a good guy.”
“Not according to Emily.”
Kate shrugged. “They weren’t good for each other back then. But that was the past, and Emily sometimes has trouble letting go of the past.”
Wes kept his voice low and even. “What about you?”
“What about me? Do I have trouble letting go of the past? Sometimes. But not all the time.”
“No, I mean, is he good for you?”
Kate was taken aback by Wes’s bold question. She wasn’t ready to make that determination. Not yet. She and Nick were just getting to know each other. Sure, she liked what she saw, liked even more what she didn’t see. But she wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge the possibility of a more in-depth relationship. Not yet. But Wes deserved an answer.
“He could be.” She couldn’t help but glance in Nick’s direction. “Good for me, I mean.”
“Even if he drives a wedge between you and Emily?”
Kate turned her full attention to Wes. “Nick’s had nothing to do with any division forming between me and Emily. Trust me. Emily has been causing that all on her own.”
“So what are you going to do?”
Good question. Kate surprised herself by voicing the first thought that came to her mind. “Probably have a big, hairy showdown with her.”
“Sounds ominous.”
“It might be. It all depends on how she reacts.”
They remained silent for several moments before Wes spoke again. “You don’t want to tell me what she’s done now, do you?”
“No, not particularly.”
“That bad?”
“Yes.”
Wes shifted his gaze to Nick. “Does he know anything about it?”
“You mean Nick?”
“Of course I mean Nick. Does this problem between you and Emily involve him?” Wes turned his gaze away as if worried Nick might instinctively know he was the subject of their discussion. “I heard he was a person of interest in the deaths of Maia Bari and the guy she was with.”
“Trust me. He had nothing to do with it.”
“You sure?”
Kate suddenly grew tired of the messages that floated just below the surface of the conversation. She pivoted and faced her friend, balancing her fists on her hips. “It’s not like you to be this . . . obtuse. Just say what’s on your mind, Wes.”
“What do you know about this guy?”
She tried not to roll her eyes like a teenager being grilled by a parent. “Gee, not much. I’ve only known him twenty years or so.”
Wes crossed his arms, his posture screaming a message she didn’t want to hear. “Ever since he was your best friend’s husband, right?”
“You too?” She couldn’t help but sigh. “First my father and now you. Why have the men in my life suddenly decided that I’ve lost the ability to distinguish good from bad, right from wrong?”
Wes’s face softened. “We’re just trying to look out for you.”
“I’ve been a grown woman for many years now. I appreciate the sentiment, but I’d also appreciate it if you’d trust me.”
“You, I trust. Him?” He spared Nick a quick glance. “The jury’s still out on him.” He raised his hands to forestall Kate’s next comments. “To his credit, he seems like a nice guy.” They both watched as Nick leaned over and whispered something to a sullen little boy who cracked a brief smile in response. “I just hope it’s not just a passing phase. . . .”
Kate placed her hand on Wes’s arm. “It’s not. Give him a chance and you’ll see what I see.”
He graced her with a smile and pulled her close for a quick hug. “Like I said, I trust you. And if you say he’s changed, then I trust your judgment.”
The next twenty-four hours were filled with solace, solutions, and resolutions. After getting a tour of the stricken area, Kate remained at the church shelter, pitching in. She didn’t realize how exhausted she was until she fell asleep after sitting down ostensibly to retie her shoe.
Nick and Wes colluded and presented a united front, insisting she go back to Wes’s house and get some sleep. As much as she hated taking a break —a pointed reminder that she had a safe home to go to —she finally agreed and picked her way through the debris-strewn streets to Wes’s house a few blocks away.
Anna greeted her with a hug, and Dani managed to shoot her a shy but sleepy smile of recognition.
“Wes called me. You look beat.”
“I am,” Kate admitted for the first time.
“It’s perfect timing,” Anna said as Dani leaned her head onto her mother’s shoulder and released a yawn. “Miss Priss here is about to go down for her morning nap. It’ll be quiet for you.”
Kate stepped forward and planted a kiss on Dani’s head. “Did the tornado frighten her?”
Anna shook her head. “She slept right through it. The three of us huddled in the closet, but she never woke up. The real challenge will be tonight when it gets dark. Babies and candles aren’t a good combination.”
“I have power at my place if you want to go there. It’s not babyproof, but it is Buster-proof, and trust me, the two are very similar.”
“That’s okay. Me and the munchkin plan to camp out. Right, sweetie?”
Dani released a sleepy yawn. Kate found it infectious and stifled her own yawn.
“Nap time. Both of you.”
Anna led Kate to the guest room, where she fell asleep. When she woke up, she was stunned to learn she’d slept for three hours. She emerged from the bedroom and found Anna in the living room, reading Dani a book.
“Sleep well?”
“It depends. Is it still today or is it tomorrow already?”
Anna laughed. “It’s still Sunday. Wes called and the troops have arrived. You and Emily literally moved heaven and earth. You don’t know how much everyone appreciates this.”
Kate shrugged. “All I did was make a phone call and tell Emily what I saw.”
“It was far more than that. It’s just good to know we have a president who really cares.”
A president who really cares . . .
Anna’s words haunted Kate for the rest of the day, even as she and Nick drove back to her house. The trip home was far less taxing than their initial drive because most of the roadways had been cleared. But the sense of turmoil that filled her mind was just as challenging.
“You’re quiet,” Nick commented as they hit the Beltway. “Tired or troubled?”
“Both.”
“Me too.”
“We did good. We helped channel Emily’s power so that it did something incredible today.”
“True.”
Kate’s moment of triumph flared and fizzled a moment later. “But it doesn’t change what she did.”
“Or what she might do again.”
She pushed back in the passenger’s seat. “That’s the problem. I worry that the next four years will be a matter of doing everything I can to either mitigate the damages she causes or at least offset them so that I can live with my own conscience.”
“She has no incentive to change.”
“Then it’s up to me to help her find the incentive.”