David Baldacci - First Family

"Did Pam ever talk to you about any problems in the marriage?"

"Why do you ask that?" Jane said sharply.

"Just covering all the bases," said Sean. "So was there anything?"

Jane sat back and made a steeple with her hands while she slowly nodded. "It was at the party at Camp David. We were talking about Tuck not being there. That he was away on business. It was really nothing. But-"

"But what?"

"It just seemed that she wanted to say something, but then didn't. She made a casual comment about Tuck being Tuck. And that he'd be back the next day." She looked between the pair. "What is it?"

Sean and Michelle had both snapped forward in their chairs. "Tuck was supposed to come back the day after the kidnapping happened?" Sean asked.

Jane looked unsure. "That's right. I believe that's what she said. But he was there the night it happened." Jane leaned forward too. "What is going on?"

Sean glanced at Michelle. "Tuck might have been having an affair."

Jane stood. "What?"

"You had no idea?"

"Of course not, because it's not true. My brother would never do that. What proof do you have?"

"Enough to make us want to investigate it further."

Jane sat back down. "This is… incredible." She glanced up. "If you think he had an affair, you're not implying that…"

"Jane, I can't answer that question. At least not right now. We've only been on this thing for a short time. We're doing the best we can."

"And our priority has to be getting Willa back safe," added Michelle.

"Of course that's our goal. It's the only reason I asked you to help." Jane put a shaky hand up to her forehead.

Sean could easily read her mind. "When you start an investigation you really can never be sure where it's going to lead. Sometimes the truth does hurt, Jane. Are you prepared for that?"

The First Lady placed a cool, rigid gaze on him.

"The truth is, at this point in my life nothing surprises me anymore. You just find Willa. And let the chips fall."

All three turned when the door swung open. Sean and Michelle reflexively leapt to their feet as President Dan Cox strode into the room, winged by a pair of veteran Secret Service agents. He smiled and put out his hand.

Cox was about Michelle's height, several inches shorter than Sean, but his shoulders were burly and his face, at age fifty, retained more vestiges of youth than it did the toll of middle age. That was somewhat remarkable considering his years under the unrelenting gaze of the world.

Sean and Michelle took turns shaking the man's hand.

Jane said, "I'm surprised to see you."

Cox said, "I canceled the rest of my appearances for today. My people weren't thrilled, but the president does get a few perks. And when you're up by twenty-five points in the polls and your opponent agrees with you more than he disagrees with you, a free day every once in a while is allowable. And even if I were behind in the race, Willa's safety comes first."

Jane gave him a grateful smile. "I know you've always seen it that way."

Cox walked over and gave his wife a peck on the cheek and rubbed her shoulder gently before turning to his two Secret Service agents; his gaze flicked almost imperceptibly to the door. Within moments the men were gone.

Sean, who had watched this little exchange, thought, How many times has a president done that very same eye flick with me?

Cox said, "Jane's told me what you two are doing. I welcome your experience and input. We have to do everything we can to get Willa back safely."

"Absolutely, Mr. President," Sean said automatically.

Cox perched on the edge of his wife's desk and motioned for the pair to retake their seats. "I was briefed on the flight about the package. I pray that will lead to something positive." He paused. "Politics should not become involved in this and I'll do everything possible not to allow that to happen. However, the opposition controls the Congress so I clearly don't have absolute power there." He gazed at his wife and smiled tenderly. "I don't even have it in my own house, which is a good thing since my better half is far smarter than I'll ever be." His casual smile melted. "But officially the FBI leads this investigation. Some of my advisors don't think I can play favorites here, but I've told FBI Director Munson that this case gets maximum priority. I'll deal with the political fallout later. My wife trusts you with this, so I trust you. However, while you will continue to be provided access to the investigation, remember that your role is that of a private consultant. The FBI runs the show."

"We understand, Mr. President."

"They've been very cooperative," Michelle added, without a trace of the sneer she was undoubtedly feeling coming on.

"Good. Have you made any progress?"

Sean shot a quick glance at Jane Cox. Her features were imperturbable yet somehow Sean was able to read them still. "It's early yet, sir, but we're working as hard and as fast as we can. It seems like they got a bit of a break with this package. Hopefully, as you said, that will lead to something else. Those things often do. The bad guys communicate and they let something slip."

"All right." Cox stood and so did Sean and Michelle.

"I'll talk to you later, honey," said the president.

Moments later he was gone, with no doubt his silent guards once more bracketing him.

Outside the White House the few square feet around the president demanded maximum protection, and some agents, using a football analogy, referred to it as the "red zone," meaning that this was where the defense could never allow a score. That meant layers of perimeter walls rolling outward like the multiple skins of an onion. To get to the next depth, the intruder had to wipe out the layer above. The red zone was the last wall before you ran smack into the leader of the free world's flesh and bone. It consisted of top agents who'd been excruciatingly vetted to get to this level, positioned hip and flank in the form of a diamond. A hard diamond. And every single one of those agents would automatically fight to the death and take a lethal round for the man, without question. That was the one layer that could never be breached, because it was the last one.

Yet even in the White House, the Service was always within a foot of the man save for one place: the First Family's private quarters. In the field of presidential protection, you could never assume that you always knew where your enemies were, or whether your friends were really friends.

A few minutes later, Sean and Michelle were in the tunnel heading back to the Treasury, a Marine in full dress uniform leading the way.

"I've always wanted to meet the president," Michelle said to Sean.

"He's an impressive guy. But…"

Michelle's voice sank to a whisper. "But you'll always see him in that car in the alley with that woman?"

He grimaced but didn't answer her.

"Why didn't you ask Jane about the two C-sections and three kids?"

"Because my gut told me not to. And right now my gut is scaring me to death."

SEAN YAWNED, sat back, finished off his coffee, and rose to get some more while Michelle stared intently at the computer screen. They were at her apartment near Fairfax Corner. While outside cars and patrons streamed through the popular upscale shopping area, the two of them had been sequestered in Michelle's cluttered home office staring at digital liquid on her Mac. Sean returned and handed her a fresh cup of coffee. It had taken a long time to sift through Tuck Dutton's computer files. But some interesting information had been gained by the effort.

The man had been scheduled to come home the morning following the kidnapping attempt. Cassandra Mallory's cell phone had been listed in his contacts. Sean had called it. A woman had answered and then he'd hung up. Her address was also in Tuck's records.