James Grippando - Born to Run

“No.”

Jack paused, expecting her to say more. But she was finished.

“You don’t seem to believe me,” she said.

“I do. But honestly, I came here expecting you to say that Chloe’s anonymous source and her attempts to contact the vice president had everything to do with the questions you have about your husband’s death.”

“Well, I didn’t know about those things, so they obviously could not have raised any questions in my mind, could they?”

She seemed to be closing that door pretty tightly. “Obviously not.”

“But I’ll make a deal with you, Harry Swyteck’s son Jack. I will tell you what makes me question Phil’s death, if you’ll tell me what the FBI doesn’t seem to want anyone to know: What caused you and the FBI to arrange that meeting with a homeless man outside the museum on Sunday morning?”

Jack paused. Telling her about the anonymous e-mail was no small step, even if Paulette Sparks-a member of the media-did already know about it.

She said, “Naturally all of this remains between us. You have my word on it.”

Jack was still considering it. She was a curious woman, the widow Grayson. But for reasons he could not fully explain-perhaps it was the way she had reached out to him at the funeral-he trusted her.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” said Jack, and then he fell silent.

“I’m listening,” she said.

“Former Second Ladies first. Please.”

She smiled thinly, as if she liked his style. And then she told him.

“With or without training wheels, dude?” said Theo.

Theo Knight was the last person Jack had expected to run into at the hotel bar at the end of the day. A flight of tequila shots was set up before him. “Training wheels” were lemon and salt.

“I’m not doing tequila tonight,” said Jack. “And what the hell are you doing in D.C.?”

“Interview.”

“For what?”

“Secretary of Education. I’m big on educational programs. Head Start. Wipe No Child’s Behind. All the big ones.”

“It’s Leave No Child Behind, Einstein. Seriously, what are you doing here?”

“Your father’s lawyers want to talk to me.”

Shit, I am a potted plant. “Nobody told me about that.”

“Said they’re afraid something might come up about the settlement money you got from the state of Florida to pay me back for the four years I spent on death row.”

Jack processed it: it took an act of the state legislature to get compensation for wrongful conviction. Harry’s signature had approved the settlement that made it possible for Theo to buy Sparky’s Tavern.

“So,” said Theo, “with or without?”

“I’m meeting with about a dozen lawyers and the White House chief of staff first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Definitely without,” said Theo. He slid the brimming shot glass in front of Jack.

“Did you not hear me?” said Jack. “No tequila.”

“Dude, what did we do when your ex-wife turned into a fruitcake?”

“Tequila.”

“When your girlfriend Mia dyed her hair, changed her name, and left town?”

“Tequila.”

“When Rene chose relief work in Africa over a love life in Miami?”

“Tequila.”

“Exactly. We’re talking tradition here. You can’t break tradition.”

“You’re talking as if Andie dumped me.”

“Well, she’s going to-if you don’t get rid of this really nasty case of Washington-itis.”

“You talked to her?”

“Yeah. She likes Miami fuckup Jack. Not Capitol suck-up Jack.”

“You make me sound pathetic.”

“You are pathetic.”

Jack raised his glass. “I’ll drink to that.”

They belted back their shots together.

“Smooooth,” said Theo.

Jack winced, as if he were drinking gasoline. “I hope we’re not starting with the good stuff,” said Jack, and he belted back another shot. He slammed the empty glass on the bar and added, “Vice President Grayson had ED.”

It was a perfectly timed non sequitur that had Theo coughing on his tequila. “You mean…the guy…couldn’t-”

“Is there another kind of ED?”

“I don’t know. What do politicians get- electile dysfunction?”

“Stop being an idiot. He had ED.”

“How do you know this?”

“His widow told me.”

“When?”

“Right after his daughter asked me out to lunch.”

“You shittin’ me?”

“No.”

“Dude, you gotta let me come on that date. A mother-daughter thing is like my biggest fantasy.”

“First off, it’s not a date. She wants to tell me what it’s like when your father is vice president.”

“Sounds better than a date,” said Theo, as he slipped into an affected Elizabeth Grayson voice. “Oh, Jack, I’ve been so lonely. Greta Garbo lonely. Farmer’s daughter lonely. Lonelygirl 15 on the Internet lonely. Kiss me, you fool. Kiss me right now!”

The pucker was enough to make the businessman at the other end of the bar get up and leave.

Jack said, “And even if it was a date, Marilyn Grayson is fifty-one years old.”

“Damn. Old enough to be your…sister.”

“Shut up and listen. There was a perfectly legitimate reason for her to tell me about her husband’s condition.”

“I’m listening.”

“In addition to ED, Phil Grayson had atherosclerosis.”

“I dare you to say that after one more shot.”

“Focus. The thing is, you can’t take any of the ED medications if you have atherosclerosis. What’s the big warning you hear on all the TV commercials for ED medication?”

“If you have an erection lasting more than four hours, call your girlfriend’s girlfriends.”

“That’s not the warning I’m talking about. You can’t take the drug if you have atherosclerosis. It can cause a fatal drop in blood pressure and a heart attack.”

“And this is important because…?”

“The toxicology report from Vice President Grayson’s autopsy hasn’t been made public yet. But it will be released soon, which is why, I’m sure, Marilyn Grayson was so candid with me. The whole world will know this in a few weeks. It will disclose that the vice president had taken an unusually high dosage of ED medication a few hours before his death.”

“But the man died on a hunting trip with your dad.”

“So what does that tell you?”

“Your dad’s gay?”

“ No , numb nuts.”

“Then Grayson probably had a honey on Miami Beach. Big deal. Doesn’t everybody?”

“That’s one interpretation,” said Jack. “Marilyn Grayson has another.”

“ Two honies in Miami Beach? Maybe a mother-daughter combo.” Theo belted back another shot. “Lucky bastard.”

“Will you give that up already?” said Jack. “It comes down to two possibilities. One is that Grayson took a pill to have sex with a woman who was not his wife, knowing that the medicine could very well send him into cardiac arrest and kill him.”

“He wouldn’t be the first guy with a weak heart to take that risk.”

“True. But what if he wasn’t cheating on his wife?”

“Then why would he take the little blue pill?”

“What if someone gave it to him-without him knowing it?”

“You mean dissolved it in his food or slipped it into a drink?”

“Exactly.”

The proverbial lightbulb glowed over Theo’s head. “Dude, that’s it.”

“What’s it?”

“I swear that must be what Trina’s been doing to me. I’ll be walking around on three legs all afternoon, wondering where the hell Mr. Happy came from, and then Trina shows up at the bar all rarin’ to-”

“Stop. This isn’t about you.”