Meetings, telephone calls, and researching a long list of speculations filled my day. It was a relief to get out of the paper and head for Roanne’s office.
Michael and I waited for Senators Dalton and Crawford to return from the Senate chamber. When Ro showed after an hour-long wait, she was without Crawford. She said he had stopped to use her restroom. His meeting with Senator Pembroke had been very hard on him. Michael went for a pitcher of water and glasses, returning just ahead of Crawford.
The senator’s tie was loosened. He looked drained. We sat around the coffee table and waited as Crawford took a long pull on his water.
“This is the most difficult thing I’ve ever gone through as a senator.” He cleared his throat. “Fred’s usually very prompt. I waited fifteen minutes and then checked the Senate chamber, but he wasn’t there. So I went back into the Cloakroom.
“He came rushing in around 7:10, barely acknowledging colleagues, and plopped into the chair next to mine. He was definitely not himself.
“He said, ‘I’m stepping down as chairman of HELP, Gav. You’re the first person to know. It’s true, what was on that tape. I took the money.’ He impressed on me he had never asked for it. It had started with $2,500 in cash in a brown envelope. No name. Just a note: For the kids’ education. He remembered talking about having two kids in college and a third about to start, and how he and Sally had scrimped; she’d even taken a part-time job, so they could give the kids the things they’d been promised. He chided himself for being so stupid, because now he had completely failed them and Sally.
“Fred told me the pharmas opened up an offshore account as Mort had said. Over $30,000 the first year. He said Stroble was right; he had never taken part in anything else . . . not the women, nothing. He said it was the euphoria of power . . . the chairmanship, the prestige, and the money . . .they blotted out reality. He asked me about you, Laura.”
“Me? Why?”
“He wanted to know if you were a good person. I told him Ro had confidence in you, and that from what little I’d seen, I’d say yes.”
I was confused. Why would he ask about me?
“He said the story you wrote about Ro was a good one. He was sorry about how he’d handled you, Ro. He was under pressure from Kelly and Horowitz. He asked that I tell you that.”
“Is he planning to leave the Senate?” Ro asked.
“It’s possible. He plans to tell Tom about stepping down in a few days.
Then he really got me when he said, ‘Stroble didn’t have to die, Gav,’ and then abruptly got up and walked out. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard.”
“I found Gavin in the Cloakroom,” Ro said to me.
“I was stunned and appreciate you giving me my space, Ro. Fred’s saying the tape is true implicates Kelly . . . he’s guilty, too, you know. Look, folks, Fred’s a good friend; this has taken a lot out of me.”
“I truly feel sorry for him,” Ro said.
“Telling his family will be the hardest part for him. He’s a great father, family man. Ironically, that was his undoing. It’s tragic.”
“I remember H.T. telling me—”
The phone rang, interrupting her. Michael grabbed it and immediately showed shock.
“Senator, it’s your father. He—”
“Finally,” she said, rising.
“He says they’re under attack!”
“Attack?” I said incredulously, jumping to my feet.
Ro took the phone. “Dad?”
Panic flashed across her face. She put the call on speaker, and we heard sounds of gunshots and explosions.
“My God! Who?” she exclaimed.
Crawford was on his feet. “I’ll call DOD,” he said rushing into Michael’s office.
Rufus’s voice was weak and overpowered by the sounds. “. . . one of our security men is down; there are a bunch coming at us. Sherman got hit, Johnny and I are . . .” There was a loud explosion amidst sounds of close-in rifle or machine-gun fire. Then the phone went dead.
I had my address book out looking up Harley Rogers’s cell number.
“Dad! Dad! Can you hear me?” Ro yelled. There was no answer. She plopped into her chair, elbows on her knees and her head in her hands.
Michael stood, stunned.
Crawford rushed in. “Michael, punch up line three.”
He did.
Crawford said, “Okay, General, I’m in Senator Dalton’s office. You’re on speaker.”
I was punching in Harley’s number.
“Senator Dalton, where was your father calling from?” the general asked.
“It’s all been so secret,” I heard Ro say. “He’s in the Caribbean, southern part, I suspect.”
“What do you mean, secret?” the unnamed general asked, upset.
“General, let me explain, give you what we know,” Crawford said.
Michael comforted Ro, as Crawford explained things to the general. I got a recording. I selected the emergency number and finally got a live voice at the answering service. I told her my name and explained as clearly as I could why it was imperative she find Mr. Rogers or put me through to him. She was hesitant, then adamantly said she couldn’t.
“His son is in extreme danger and every second talking to you may be one too many to save him. Call Mr. Rogers and give him my name and the message.”
She asked me to wait. After what seemed like an eternity, a male voice came on.
“Ms. Wolfe? This is Harley Rogers.” His voice was shaky and husky.
“Your island is under attack. We have—”
“I just heard. How—?”
“Rufus called. I’m with Senator Dalton. We think the governor got hit.
He said Sherman had. We heard gun fire, explosions. Where is the island, sir? We have a general on with us and—”
“It’s Carmaya, an archipelago off South America. I’ll give you the coordinates.”
“I’m ready,” I said.
He recited the latitude and longitude.
“Senator Crawford,” I called, waving the paper as I rushed to him. “This is from Harley Rogers. It’s Carmaya, an island archipelago.”
The surprised senator took my note and read the information to the general.
I asked Harley, “Please give me a direct line where—”
“I’ll give you two.”
I had my pad. “Okay.”
Ro was still slumped in her chair with Michael beside her. I signed off with Harley and went to her, crouching down. Tears streamed from her eyes, and several wet tissues lay in her lap. I put my hand on her arm and said, “We know the island’s location. DOD’s got it now. Let’s get away from here. I don’t know what they can do, but . . .”
“Hopefully, send in the Marines,” she said hesitantly, crying.