Catherine Coulter: Whiplash

Savich waited a moment, then said, "Your wife spent at least two hundred thousand dollars in the first month you were married, Mr. Gerlach. I have copies of bills from travel agencies, jewelry stores, fashion houses. Did you see financial ruin coming?"

Gerlach's head snapped up. He shouted, "None of this is true! It's all lies! It was Caskie Royal's doing, all of it." He strained to look up at Dieffendorf's furious face. "That is why I sent Kesselring here, to find out the truth. That is why there are phone calls between us. I had no idea you had also sent Blauvelt for the same purpose. I did not know!"

Dieffendorf shouted down at Gerlach, "When all's said and done, the truth is, you're a greedy little bastard who has to wear two-inch lifts in your shoes! I'll bet you couldn't wait to sign on with Renard. You know what? I can see your precious Laytha and her boyfriend laughing about what a preening little cock you are!"

Dieffendorf frowned down at him, then said slowly, "No, wait. No one held a gun to your head, did they, Werner? Not Laytha, not Renard. You wanted all that money for yourself, didn't you? How much was Renard paying you?"

Gerlach didn't answer. He was crying.

WASHINGTON MEMORIAL HOSPITAL

Sunday evening

"I would like to speak to the vice president alone, Agent Jarvis. Would you and Agent Paul wait just outside, please?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but you know we can't leave the vice president alone."

"Come, Jarvis, I've known him since we were very young men. It's a personal matter that is rather urgent. I need only five minutes."

Alex Valenti opened his eyes and his mouth widened just a bit in a smile. His voice was hoarse when he whispered, "It's all right, Agent Jarvis, I'm sure the man has already been frisked like a criminal. You can stay right outside the glass door."

Agent Jarvis continued to look uncertain, but he finally nodded. "Very well, since it's important. Senator Hoffman, the vice president is very weak, so please keep it short, all right? Press the call button if you need anything." He gave Hoffman a quick nod. "Thank you, sir."

"This won't take long, I promise," Senator Hoffman said, and watched Jarvis leave, closing the glass door quietly behind him. He looked down at a nearly motionless Alex Valenti, a man he'd known for-how many years was it now? Forty? He said, "I tried to see you earlier, but was told only family was allowed. I'm glad I could see you this evening."

Valenti's voice was hoarse when he whispered, "Dave, it's good to see you. They finally took that damned tube out of my nose, what a relief."

"Your voice sounds harsh. Is your throat sore?"

"A bit, along with everything else. Since I nearly bought the big one, I'll accept a sore throat without complaint. I'm pleased they let you in. The doctors are trying to make me bore myself to death. Even in the miserable shape I'm in, I can't sleep all the time."

"No, they want you to heal. They want to get full credit for saving you. No relapses allowed. I heard your wife and family were dancing around the halls when the doctors told them you're going to make a full recovery."

"They did indeed. Elyssa was grinning so big I could see her back molars. She wouldn't stop kissing my ear. She told me the waiting room was overflowing with family and friends. I didn't feel much like talking, but I told her I didn't deserve all the attention, and she had the gall to agree.

"I'm sorry about the Brabus, Dave. It was a beautiful machine, and now it's junk."

"Maybe you'll be the first vice president to get a year-end bonus for actually making headlines. Then you can buy me a new one."

Valenti gave a small laugh, barely a sound really, but he immediately regretted it. He pressed the morphine button, waited a minute until he could handle the slowly ebbing flow of pain. "Can you imagine the public outcry? Year-end bonus. That's funny, Dave. You're here one minute and already I'm laughing. It hurts."

"You survived, that's the only important thing. I spoke to Dr. Myller. He called you amazing, the force of your spirit, your will to live. He told me he wished all his patients had your strength, mentally and physically."

Hoffman fell silent, seeing the furrow of pain on Valenti's forehead. He watched him push the morphine button again, but it was far too soon for more of the drug to be delivered, and he had to wait, his eyes closed, for his last dose to kick in.

"Thanks for telling me that," Valenti said after a couple of minutes. "Sometimes the pain seems to spike. I'm okay now. The pain gets me every once in a while."

"Would you rather never have awakened?"

"I suppose if I'd died I wouldn't know any different, so the question is really irrelevant, isn't it? No, I'm glad I'm here and breathing even though my insides feel like they're on a death march. Agent Savich was here to tell me it wasn't an accident, which I already knew in my gut. He said someone sabotaged the steering linkage, set it to blow out. He said I didn't stand a chance. I've thought about who would want to kill me, Dave, but I was forced to admit that no one hates me enough to kill me in such a convoluted way. I mean, who would want to knock off a vice president? We're about as necessary as roll bars on a Volvo."

Hoffman laughed, couldn't help it.

Valenti waggled his eyebrows. "At least as a governor I was always busy-places to go, legislation to get through, enemies to make. It doesn't make much sense that someone would try to kill me now."

Hoffman looked toward the lovely big window with its view of the National Mall in the distance. He said over his shoulder, "Nikki came to me recently. Of course I didn't realize it was her, but there she was, nearly every night around midnight, in front of my bedroom window."

Hoffman heard Valenti suck in his breath. Was it pain or astonishment at what he'd so casually said about his wife?

"Truth be told," Hoffman continued after a moment, "I believed it was a trick, I believed it was my sons, the worthless little sods, trying to drive their old man over the edge to get their hands on my money. I realized quickly enough that neither Aiden nor Benson has the imagination or the guts to pull off a stunt like that."

Valenti said quietly from behind him, "Nikki's been dead over three years, Dave. We both were with her at the end. We both held her hands. What are you saying? You really believe her ghost visited you?"

"Yes, you were there, weren't you, holding her hand? Did you know Agent Dillon Savich has a special gift, that he claims she spoke to him?"

"No, I didn't know. I do know President Holley thinks he's very bright, very intuitive. Now you're telling me he's a psychic?"

Hoffman waved his hand as he turned away from the window and walked back to Valenti's bedside. He said as he straightened the glass of water and the small cup of ice chips on the wooden arm, "Apparently. Who really knows?" He picked up the glass. "Do you want to drink some water, Alex?"

"No, not right now. To be honest, I don't think I could swallow it at the moment."

Hoffman set the glass back down. "Later then. Savich and his wife, Agent Sherlock, spent an evening at my house, and the next day Savich told me Nikki came to him to beg him to save me from some sort of trouble."

"What kind of trouble are you in? What is all this about?"

Hoffman laughed again. "You don't need to worry about me, Alex. You see, I'm quite sure it wasn't me Nikki was trying to save, it was you she was trying to protect, even after her death."

Valenti spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, but the shock was clear in his voice. " What? What did you say? Is this another one of your jokes, Dave?"

"No, I'm not joking. Do you know how long I've hated you?"