Chapter Twenty-One

“To announce that there must be no criticism of the president…is morally treasonable to the American public.” Theodore Roosevelt

Gideon spent Sunday at home with his mother. She’d heard the news of Stella’s death and was taking it badly. It had awakened her old fears and insecurities.

He hadn’t called Kate; she was with her family. He didn’t want to intrude.

And last night, he’d had the old nightmare.

Back to the interrogation. Only it hadn’t been him being questioned, but Kate. This time he’d broken, as he hadn’t all those years ago. He’d screamed that he’d tell them anything, everything, whatever they wanted to hear if they’d just stop hurting her.

Except that he didn’t know anything. Had nothing to tell them.

He’d gotten up while it was still dark, gone into the office. The place was quiet.

He had no reason to believe that Stella’s death was anything other than an accident. She’d always been the perfect Party member.

But if that was the case, why had Kate pretended that she hadn’t seen her sister?

He opened his system, typed in Stella Buchanan. The file had already been updated to deceased; otherwise there was nothing of interest. On the other hand, he’d suspected that his access had been limited. Boyd had hinted that there would be a probationary period before he got access to all the files. That wouldn’t do him much good now.

He decided to look at it from a different angle. He pulled up the work roster for the previous evening. Which agents had been on duty? There had been ten. Four had been in the office. Four others he could account for. Two, Davies and Shepperton, the most senior officers on duty, had a “special duties” flag next to their names. He tried to view the details but hit a dead end.

He picked up his phone and punched in a number. Davies picked up straight away.

“Sir?”

“I wanted to know how the job went last night?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His tone was wary.

“Stella Buchanan.”

“Still don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.”

He ended the call and sat staring at his screen, trying to decide where to go next. He needed to talk to Boyd. Before he got the chance, there was a knock on his door. It opened, and his boss stood there. He entered without waiting, came to a halt in front of the desk.

“You’ve been asking questions about Stella Buchanan. I suggest you drop the subject.”

“Why?”

“There’s nothing there.”

“She’s dead.”

“It was an accident. Leave it at that.” Boyd studied him for a moment longer. “The president likes you. You’ve got a good chance to become a real part of the team. Don’t fuck it up.”

While Gideon wanted to ask about the rest of Stella’s family, he didn’t want to alert Boyd that he was interested. Not yet. Not until he knew more about what was going on. So he kept his mouth shut, and a minute later he was alone.

He was becoming certain that Stella’s death had not been an accident, although he could see no reason for her death. Except that Kate had lied about seeing her sister. And she had drugged him. She was clearly involved in something.

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and keyed in her number. It rang a couple of times and then clicked over to voice mail. “It’s Gideon. I just wanted to check you’re okay.” He ended the call, but as he put down the phone, it rang. The caller ID showed Kate. “Hi,” he said. “I just wanted to find out how you were.”

“I’m as well as can be expected. I’m at my parents’. I’ve taken a couple of days off work until the funeral.”

“Good. You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“No.”

He thought for a moment. “You said you hadn’t seen Stella for a while, that you’d argued. Can you tell me what about?”

She was silent for a few seconds. Thinking up an answer? Or wondering why he was asking? “It was my fault. I told her I was working on a private project using the Homeland Security computer system. She wasn’t happy. Wanted me to stop.”

“What sort of project?”

“Just a silly program. A sort of probability calculator. Nothing but a game really.”

He was aware that all technological research had been stopped. What she said made sense. Except that somehow it didn’t ring true.

“Are you going to turn me in?” she asked in a disinterested tone.

“No.” She didn’t say anything else, but he could hear her soft breathing on the other end of the line. Then a sob.

“Kate?”

“It’s not fair. She was a good person. It shouldn’t have happened.”

“No, it shouldn’t.” What else could he say? He had no clue what was going on. All he knew was that Kate was in danger, and he hated that. It shouldn’t have mattered. Right now, he should be telling Boyd that she’d drugged him. If he wanted any future at all, he should come clean about what she’d done and then put as much distance between them as he could. Instead, he found himself saying. “I’ll see you at the funeral.”

Somehow, he was going to have to get to the bottom of exactly what Kate Buchanan was up to. Then put a stop to it.

Before she also met with an accident.

…

Aaron sat in a booth in the bar off Fifth Avenue in New York.

Stella would have the files by now. Should have already contacted Gideon.

How had his brother reacted?

Maybe Aaron was wrong. Maybe he’d made a huge miscalculation in believing that Gideon would do the right thing and help. Maybe, instead, he’d gone running straight to his new boss. They’d heard nothing from D.C.

Stella could have been arrested. Was maybe being tortured right now.

But he couldn’t think like that or he would stop functioning.

This was what she had wanted.

Eight years ago, he’d returned to D.C. One last attempt to persuade Stella to come away with him. He’d had contacts, found a place in the rebels. They would take Stella in if he vouched for her. They could have a life together.

She had refused outright, as he’d known she would. She wouldn’t do to her family what he had done to his.

At that point, he’d admitted to himself that the trip had been an excuse to see her one last time, that was all.

Then she had surprised him. Told him that if the day ever came, then she wanted to do her part to bring down President Harry Coffell Junior. And he’d seen in her then the burning need for justice.

So he’d accepted her offer, not knowing at the time whether he would ever call on her but understanding that she needed to feel she was doing something. She’d joined the administration shortly after that. Put herself in a position where she could be of use.

The door to the bar opened and a man stepped through. He paused, looked around, and then came over to where Aaron sat. He slipped into the seat opposite, then pulled a paper from his pocket and slid it across the table.

Aaron read the words, but they made no sense to him.

Stella was dead. Had died in a car accident two nights ago.

A scream of denial rose up inside him and he closed his eyes, concentrated on getting himself under control.

She was dead. How? Why? The paper gave the bare minimum of details.

Had she spoken to Gideon and he’d turned her in? But if that was the case, why make her death look like an accident? Why not arrest her?

Besides, the timing was wrong. She would have only just received the file shortly before the accident. She wouldn’t have had time to go and see Gideon.

Could it have been an accident? The timing just a coincidence, a cruel quirk of fate?

He didn’t believe in coincidences.