David Baldacci: First Family

"I'm sure, Ruth Ann. I'm sure. So these people came here. Did they tell you their names?"

"Man say his name… King, that's right. King."

"Tall, good-looking man? The woman was also tall, brunette?"

"You know 'em?"

"They're actually friends of mine. What did they want here?"

"They looking for your niece. I told 'em we ain't know nothing 'bout that. And I swear to God, ma'am, we ain't."

Jane said soothingly, "I believe you. Of course you didn't."

"And then Gabriel he was all fired up wanting to show 'em that room."

"Room?"

"One down in the basement. Mr. Sam got stuff in that room. Stuff on the walls. Pictures and writing, whole bunch of stuff. It had your niece's picture on it. Gabriel showed me. She a pretty girl."

"And King and his friend saw this room?"

"Oh, yeah, they was in there a long time. They got real excited."

"Can you show me this room?"

"Ma'am?"

Jane stood. "I'd really like to see it."

They went downstairs, Jane ignoring the protests from her security detail. They reached the room. The door was unlocked. The detail chief insisted on at least making sure no one was lurking inside.

"That will be all you do," she said sternly. "Don't even turn the lights on. And then come directly out."

It only took seconds to make sure the room was empty.

Jane turned to Ruth Ann. "Do you mind if I go in alone?"

"Go right ahead, ma'am. I ain't want to go back in there."

Jane closed the door behind her, flicked on the light, and looked around.

She started at one end of the room and kept going until she reached the other. With each photo, each line of writing, a name, a date, a description of an event, memories, awful memories came flooding back to her.

"He raped me, Daddy," she read off the wall, when she'd gone back to the beginning of the piece of history built on these walls. She slid a chair to the middle of the room, sat down and continued to stare at this story. At her story.

She looked in the file cabinets, but they were mostly empty.

She only teared up once, when she saw the photo of Willa looking down at her. She had not been entirely truthful with her husband about Willa. She had wanted Willa to stay in the family because that would always be a secret that she could hold over Dan Cox. Her husband was a good man for the most part, but unpredictable. She was sure there would come a time in their marriage, after they left the White House, when such leverage would be very useful to her. It had been an intoxicating notion to know that the president of the United States was actually less powerful than his wife. Yet over the years she had come to love and care about Willa. She wanted her back.

She had to confess admiration for Sam Quarry's skill and tenacity. It really was an amazing accomplishment. After what had happened today there would be an investigation, of course. That was a real problem, but not an insurmountable one.

Her husband's charmed streak would continue. Jane knew exactly what she had to do. And in accordance with her efficient nature, she set about methodically to do it. It was just another time where she had to pick up the pieces. Just one more time.

Her husband would not be remembered this way. She stared at the wall. He had changed. He didn't deserve this.

And neither do I.

When you had clawed your way to the level the Coxes had, you lost all individuality. You were no longer him or her. You were them.

Five minutes later she came out and shut the door behind her.

She looked at the lead agent. "I want to go back to D.C. immediately." She turned to Ruth Ann. "Thank you for your hospitality."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am."

"And everything will be fine. Don't you worry."

They hurried up the steps and out of Atlee.

The chopper lifted off seconds later. It set a heading to the northwest and the pilot hit the throttle. They were soon out of sight.

Ruth Ann closed the front door and went back to work in the kitchen. A few minutes later she smelled something funny. She walked from room to room trying to figure out what it was. She finally ventured down the stairs, hastened across the passageway, and arrived at the door to the basement room. When she touched the doorknob, it felt warm. Puzzled, she pulled it open.

It was at that moment that the fire set earlier by Jane Cox using paint thinner, rags, and a match hit the pressurized oxygen cylinders, igniting them. The explosion rocked the old plantation house to its bones. The flame ball that rocketed out the open door gushed over Ruth Ann, incinerating her. The woman didn't even have time to scream.

By the time the fire was noticed and help called in, it was far too late. By the time the volunteer fire department arrived, there was hardly anything left of Atlee.

Later, Sean, Michelle, Willa, and Gabriel pulled down the long drive in the SUV. When they saw what was going on, Gabriel jumped out while the vehicle was still moving and sprinted the rest of the way.

"Momma! Momma!"

Michelle gunned the engine and they sped up. Gabriel was running so fast he reached the ruins of the house at the same time. As they were climbing out of the SUV, the little boy had already dodged past the firemen and was wading into what was left of the house.

Sean raced after him. "Gabriel!"

Michelle ran up to one of the firemen and flashed her ID. "Did you find anyone? A black lady?"

The man looked at her solemnly. "We found… some remains." He looked over at Gabriel, who was clawing through the rubble trying to find his mother.

Michelle turned and ran toward him. She stopped as Gabriel sat down on the ground, sobbing and holding something. As Michelle edged forward she saw what it was. A burnt rag. As she drew closer, she saw it was more than that. It was the remains of an apron.

As Sean and Michelle tried to soothe the little boy, Willa walked carefully through the piles of wet, smoky wreckage, sat down next to him in the dirt and filth, and put her arms around him.

He glanced over at her. "It… it was my ma's."

"I'm sorry," she said in a quiet voice. "I'm so sorry, Gabriel."

He looked at her, his face twisted in anguish. But he nodded his thanks and started sobbing again. Willa wrapped her arms more tightly around him.

Sean glanced at Michelle. "I never thought it would be his mother who was in danger," he whispered to her.

"We had no way of knowing. Do you think this is something Quarry did somehow? Erase all the evidence?"

"I don't know."

Sean and Michelle stood back and watched the two kids sitting there, one supporting the other. It was clear from their expressions that they were thinking the same thing.

Willa didn't know it, but she was going to be experiencing this exact same grief. And neither one of them had the heart or courage right now to tell her. Even before the last timber fell into the smoldering depths of the inferno and the old Quarry home ceased to be, Jane and Dan Cox were just landing at Andrews AFB.

Jane had told her husband what she had done. He praised his wife for her quick thinking and gave her a kiss. Despite the likely loss of their niece, the First Couple rode back to the White House with their spirits higher than they had been in a while.

They really had survived, one more time.

THE COUNTRY REJOICED at the safe return of Willa Dutton. It was all made far more poignant and indeed bittersweet by the loss of the young girl's mother. Willa was America's courageous little lady now, yet they had not seen much of her, because her family was shielding the bereaved girl from much of the media scrutiny.

An obviously relieved Dan and Jane Cox consistently mentioned it on the campaign trail, and asked both the public and the media to respect the privacy of the grieving girl.