David Baldacci - First Family

She looked up ahead in time to see her father wipe his face free of his own tears and climb in his car.

Right before she fired up the SUV, Michelle said, "Goodbye, Mom. I… don't care what you did. I'll always love you."

AS HE WAS GOING through the binders, Sean's cell phone rang. It was Aaron Betack.

"You didn't hear any of this from me," the Secret Service agent said.

"You found the letter?"

"It was a good call on your part, Sean. Yeah, it was in her desk. Found it a while back, actually. Sorry it took me so long to tell you. Anybody found out I did this, my career is over. I'll probably go to jail."

"Nobody will find out from me, I can guarantee you that."

"I haven't even told the FBI. Don't really see how I could without explaining how I got it."

"I can see that. Was it typewritten like the first one?"

"Yep."

"What did it say?"

"Not all that much. The writer was pretty economical, but there was enough in those words."

"Like what?"

"Some things we already know. That she had to keep checking the post office box. She's been going there every day. Waters has run a trace on the box. Dead end. The plan is when the letter does come that the FBI will take it from her."

"Forcibly take it from the First Lady?"

"I know. I sort of envision a standoff between the FBI and the Service. Not pretty. But the truth is it'll get worked out behind the scenes. Wolfman isn't going to let the election get blown up over this, niece or not."

"What else did the letter say?"

"That was the most troubling part."

"Troubling how?" Sean said warily.

"I'm not sure this whole thing is related to the Duttons. I think it might have something to do with the First Lady."

"You mean the kidnappers want something from the president?"

"No. The letter said that the next communication she got would reveal all. And that if she let anyone else read it, that it would all be over for her and everyone she cared about. That there would be no way out then for her. Her only chance to survive would be to keep the letter away from everyone else."

"It actually said that?"

"Not word for word, but that's the clear intent. Sean, you obviously knew her way back when. I've only been around her during this term. What could the person be referring to? Something in Mrs. Cox's past?"

Sean thought back to the first time he'd met Jane Cox, while awkwardly carrying her newly minted U.S. senator and drunken husband into their modest house. Yet nothing had come of that.

"Sean?"

"Yeah, I was just thinking. I'm coming up with zip, Aaron."

He heard the other man sigh. "If I just risked my career for nothing."

"I don't think you did. What that letter said changes things, Aaron. I just don't know how."

"Well, if this does involve the First Lady and the shit hits the fan, right in the middle of a campaign, I don't want to be within a thousand miles of that fallout."

"We might not have a choice."

"Anything on your end?"

"Just trying to follow up some leads along with Waters."

"How's Maxwell? Heard her mother died."

"She's doing okay. Best as can be expected."

"For what it's worth I thought you both got raw deals at the Service."

"Thanks."

Aaron clicked off and Sean went back to his binders after spending a few minutes fruitlessly racking his brain about anything in Jane Cox's past that could explain the current situation.

A few minutes later the door opened and Michelle walked in.

"Did you find your dad?" he asked, rising from the table.

"Yeah, he was where I'd thought he'd be."

"At the farmhouse?"

She gazed darkly at him.

"I'm a detective," he said gamely. "It's what I do."

"Sometimes I wish you didn't do it so well, particularly when it concerns me."

He studied her. "Have you been crying?"

"Tears are sometimes good. I've been finding that out lately."

"Did you hash things out?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Did he come back with you?"

"No, he went over to see Bobby."

She looked at the piles of binders. "Sorry I walked out on you. Any revelations?"

"Not yet. I've hit it hard for the past four hours, but got zip. However, judging from the number of investigations, apparently desertions are becoming a real problem for the Army. I did hear from Betack." He filled her in on the conversation.

Michelle made a pot of fresh coffee and poured out cups for her and Sean. They both sat down at the kitchen table. "That would explain why she's been so high-strung. And why she's been playing things so close to the vest."

"You mean obstructing justice?"

"That too."

She reached out her hand. "Give me a binder and let's find that kid."

Two hours later they were still there.

"Six more to go," said Sean as he stretched out and then handed another binder to her.

They read slowly, looking for any clue that might allow them to lift their butts from these chairs and plunge into action once more. Their intensity levels were as high as if they were taking a college final exam. There was no room for mistakes. If there was a clue buried in all this, they knew it was probably going to be a subtle one and they could not afford to miss it.

"How about some dinner?" Sean finally said. "I'm buying. And we can keep reading."

They drove to a local restaurant.

"So you really think things are okay with your dad?"

She nodded. "I think so. I mean, we both have to work at it. I haven't been the most loving, attentive daughter in the world."

"Or sister," he pointed out.

"Thanks for reminding me."

As they ate she eyed him nervously. "Sean, about what happened back at my father's house."

"What about it?"

"It won't happen again."

"But if it did happen again, I'd be there for you, okay? There are few guarantees in life, but there's one of them."

"I'd do the same for you. I hope you know that."

"That's why we're partners, right? So any little hiccups that come along, we'll deal with them. Okay? Together."

"Okay."

He slid a binder across to her. "Now let's get back to work."

Before she opened the binder she leaned across and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"And that was for what?" he asked.

"For dealing with the hiccups so damn well. And for not taking advantage of a lady when you could have."

CAN I SEE the daylight?"

Quarry had flown his plane up to the mines and was now watching Willa as they sat in her room.

"Why do you want to see the daylight?"

"Because I haven't seen it in a while, that's why. I miss it. I'm a sun person."

"You can't get away. There's no one to yell to for help."

"So there's no reason not to let me see it, then," she answered reasonably.

"What'd you and the lady talk about the other day?"

"Just things. I like her."

"You've never seen her before, have you?"

"Why would I have?" Willa asked, her large eyes squarely on Quarry.

"I guess seeing the daylight will be okay. Come on."

"Now?"

"Why not now?"

She followed him out. As they walked down the long passage she said, "Can Diane come too?"

"I guess so."

They retrieved Diane and the two ladies followed the tall Quarry toward the exit. Willa's eyes darted left and right, taking in all details, while Diane simply trudged along, her gaze only on Quarry's back. Behind them Daryl walked along, his face still bruised from his fight with his father. His mood seemed to match his injuries.

One thing Willa picked up on was the cables running along some of the passageways that she did not remember seeing before. She didn't know what they were for, but intuitively concluded that their presence did not portend anything good.