58

THE OUTER BANKS

“Anything yet?” Marcus asked when Annie came out to the pool.

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

Marcus had already run five miles. And lifted weights. And done more than forty laps. Anything to keep busy and burn off the adrenaline that kept pumping into his system. Yet none of it was working.

Swimming over to the ladder, he climbed out of the pool. Annie tossed him a fresh towel, and he simply threw it over his shoulder. It was hot and breezy, and he figured he would dry off quickly enough. “It’s almost been twenty-four hours, and he hasn’t even opened the email?” he asked.

“He’s got an awful lot on his plate,” Annie offered. “And who knows what else is breaking? We haven’t been watching the news. We’re not checking our phones. Maybe we should.”

“It’d just depress us,” Marcus said. “If he opens it, you’ll know it. And if he responds, it will only be through that new email address.”

“What do you want to do?” she asked.

“Open the aperture.”

“Meaning what?”

“We need to send it others, to people more likely to open it, read it, listen to the audio clips, and talk to the president.”

“That’s risky.”

“I’d say doing nothing is riskier.”

“Maybe,” Annie said. “Okay, then who?”

“The attorney general. Blackburn is a straight shooter, and she could actually prosecute Stephens.”

“Can we trust her?”

“I don’t know.”

“Can you even contact her? Do you have a private email for her?”

“No, but I can get it.”

“Okay, who else?”

“Foster—him I know and trust. Maybe we go to him first, before Blackburn. And yes, I’ve got a private email address for him.”

“What about Whitney?”

“Maybe.”

“You know her better than the AG, right?”

“True. I briefly served on her advance team.”

“And saved her life in Jerusalem.”

Marcus only shrugged.

“Okay, so Foster and Whitney,” Annie said. “And maybe Blackburn.”

“No, definitely Blackburn,” Marcus said. “We don’t have time to be selective.”

“It’s your call. Anyone else? McDermott?”

Marcus stopped pacing and turned back to Annie. “You have to be kidding. He hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you, Marcus. He was doing his job.”

“You’re wrong. He’s never trusted me. Not really. I don’t know why. And regardless, he’s too close to Stephens. He’s on those recordings. Some of those emails are his.”

“You don’t think he really wanted the Russians to kill you.”

“I don’t know what to think. Reading and listening to those files yesterday brought back a lot of ugly memories. We don’t have time to process them now, but we’re sure not going to give McDermott a heads-up that he’s implicated with Stephens in all this. And besides, he would know instantly it was from me.”

“Fine, what about Jenny?” Annie asked.

Marcus thought about it for a moment, then decided against it. His gut told him no.

“One more,” Annie said. “What about Dell? She’s a pretty straight shooter, isn’t she? I mean, you know her better than me, but—”

“No,” Marcus said. “Way too close to Stephens.”

“You’re sure.”

“Yeah.”

“Then we have our list.”

“We do,” Marcus said. “Let’s get it out there.”

Five minutes later, all the emails were sent.