which was open. Her haircut was stylish, and the feathery bangs falling over her forehead were new, too, since the last time Lizzie had seen Martine. She looked presidential.
“But we haven’t had dessert, and I was going to give you the tour. Lizzie, I’m sorry. I’ll find a way. I promise you. Please, I need you to believe me.”
“It’s not me you have to convince, Marti. I’ll pass on your message. Six months. Not one day, not one hour, not one second longer. I’ll report in on January second. I hope you have a wonderful holiday. Are you staying here or going somewhere?”
“Camp David. I plan to sleep through the holidays. Do you want to hear something really sad? I don’t have a single soul I can invite to spend the holidays with me. Well, that’s not quite true. I had several people I was going to invite, but the Service said when they vetted them, they were unsuitable. Unsuitable! That’s what they said. I’m whining, and I didn’t want to do that. I apologize.”
Lizzie stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the president. She squeezed hard. “Six months, Marti,” she whispered. “Now, how do I get out of here? Is that guy with the ‘football’ still outside the door? Oh, one last thing. Watch out for Baron Bell.”
Martine grimaced. “You mean the marine with the nuclear codes? Yes, he’s out there. You just walk past him. It’s that simple. One of my agents will take you home.”
Lizzie stared at the president. She could feel her eyes start to burn at what she was seeing on her old friend’s face. She lowered her voice to a bare whisper and said, “I wouldn’t want to be you for all the gold in Fort Knox.”
The moment the door opened, Martine Connor shed her personal persona and, in the blink of an eye, was once again the president of the United States. “Thank you for that observation, and thank you for coming, Lizzie. I enjoyed our luncheon. I hope we can do it again soon. Happy holidays to you and yours.”
“Don’t eat too much turkey, Madam President.” Lizzie flinched at the sound of the door closing behind her. She straightened her shoulders and walked alongside the agent escorting her to a black limousine, where another agent waited to drive her back to her home.
Lizzie kept her eyes closed all the way home, her mind racing as she sifted, collated, and made mental notes.
The moment she was inside her cozy little home, she shed her lavender suit and donned a pair of jeans and a warm, fleecy shirt. She had the crazy urge all of a sudden to make potato pancakes. But first she had to check things at her office, call her husband, then call the mountain. Maybe she should call the mountain first. Or maybe she should wait, think about her visit some more, and make the potato pancakes first. Multitasking, so to speak.
Before she did anything, though, she was going to make herself a pot of strong black coffee to get her adrenaline levels up. While the coffee was dripping, Lizzie fiddled with her CD player, then slipped in one of Cosmo’s favorite CDs. Frank Sinatra’s mellow voice filled her kitchen. She immediately felt the tenseness leave her shoulders. Then she made herself a sandwich, the kind of sandwich Cosmo raised his eyebrows over but later admitted was tasty. Swiss cheese, lettuce, fire-roasted peppers, and one slice of salami. That mess she’d mangled back at the White House couldn’t come close to the sandwich she was devouring. There wasn’t a crumb to be seen when she finished.
Then Lizzie moved at lightning speed. She called the mountain, then she called Jack Emery, then her office. She had two calls left to make when she poured her coffee. The first call was to Nikki’s old law office, where she asked more questions than she answered. She had one call to go before she could call her husband. With business taken care of, she could talk for hours if he had the time. At the crack of dawn, she’d be winging her way to Vegas to spend Thanksgiving and the rest of the holidays with Cosmo. A radiant smile lit her features.
Lizzie was huffing and puffing when she opened the doors of the fireplace, placed the logs just so, and threw in a pile of birch kindling. The fire blazed instantly. She then moved a pile of silky red cushions near the hearth so she could curl up and be comfortable.
One more trip to the kitchen to replenish her coffee. She was walking through the dining room when retired judge Nellie Easter picked up the phone. “Lizzie, Judge. Several things. I want to wish you and Elias a wonderful Thanksgiving and a Merry Christmas. I’m leaving in the morning for Las Vegas.” They made small talk for a few minutes, with Lizzie asking about Elias’s new grandbaby and his other children before she got down to the real reason for her phone call.
“Nellie, tell me everything you know about Baron Bell. And ask Elias if he knows anything. Better yet, use the speakerphone, if he’s agreeable.”
“Baron was always a gentleman in court. He fights to win for his clients. He and I belong to five or six of the same organizations. He’s been Man of the Year for so many years, I’ve lost count. He used to do a lot of pro bono work. Lovely wife, kind of timid, stays in his shadow. Two grown children. One is a doctor at Georgetown, and one is a public defender in Georgia. Several grandchildren, who he dotes on. No matter the cause, you can count on him for a donation, and he gives his time willingly to any worthy cause. He plays Santa every year for some children’s group, and it always makes the paper. He always arrives in a sleigh with his helpers, either on wheels or with horses pulling the sleigh, and he does it at his own expense. It’s usually quite an event. As far as I know, I never heard a hint of any kind of scandal. He’s quite wealthy, and as you know, there are always a few who will take a swipe at you for that. Elias said there’s a file on him at the Bureau, but nothing bad is in it. There are those among the recipients of his generosity who think he’s the Messiah. Why are you asking, Lizzie?”
“No one is that perfect, Nellie. What’s his flaw?”
“If you believe his court record, his PR, then he is that perfect. Why? What happened to make you ask these questions? Did I also mention he has a pass to the White House? That means he’s invited to everything. So he’s on your radar, eh?”
“A little under it, but he’s there. Do me a favor, Nellie. Ask around. See if there’s anything of interest there. Then call the mountain and share it with them. Are you going to spend Christmas on the mountain or just Thanksgiving?”
“We are. We’re coming back Sunday night but will return the following weekend. Elias said his family is heading for a warmer climate. We both like the cold, and both of us are looking forward to spending the holidays with old friends. I’m sorry you won’t be joining us.”
Lizzie laughed. “Thanks, Nellie, and one more time, happy holidays!” She sighed happily. Now she could curl up and talk till she fell asleep. Business was taken care of.
She had packed before she left for the White House and would be ready to go as soon as she rolled out of bed in the morning. Damn, she’d forgotten to call Maggie at the Post. A minute later she had Maggie on the phone. She spoke quick and fast as she explained about her meeting with Rachel Dawson. “There’s something there, Maggie. I could feel it. It isn’t good either. I’ll be working on her case while I’m in Vegas.” Her final words were, “The window of time is going to be short, Maggie. Make it work if you can. See you when I see you.”
Life is good, Lizzie thought as she settled into her nest of colorful cushions.
Across town Maggie flipped open her Rolodex, then looked at the clock. Four o’clock. She punched in the numbers and waited for Abner Tookus to pick up. He did on the fourth ring.
“I thought you said you were taking my name out of your Rolodex,” was all the computer hacker
