Exclusive (49 page)

As soon as the door closed behind them, Spence's nonchalance vanished. He grabbed Gray by the throat and slammed him against the wall. His face was ugly and flushed with fury. "I'd like to kill you for putting me in that fucking cellar."

Gray threw off Spence's hands and shoved him away. "But you won't. Because killing me would be stupid, and no one's ever accused you of being stupid, Spence. Not until now."

A flicker of interest appeared in his eyes. It was fleeting, soon replaced by his characteristic cynicism. "Who are you, the good cop?"

Gray shrugged. "Take this for what it's worth. You should have accepted Yancey's deal."

"Do you really think he, or anyone, could bring down David's administration?" Spence chuckled. "It'll never happen, Gray. You'll all be made to look like idiots for trying. You've aligned yourself with the wrong side, pal. We've been scrupulously careful. David's airtight. You know that."

"Whether or not his administration collapses is inconsequential to you, Spence. You'll never know one way or the other, because you'll be long dead." Spence's smirk lost some of its insolence. "Beginning to catch on now, Spence? You were in on David's plans for Vanessa, probably for the baby as well. So, as long as you're alive, he's not airtight. Once that occurs to him, you're history.

"David will find himself another Ray Garrett. Remember him? That nice young Marine assigned to assassinate me when I became an embarrassment to the Oval

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Office? Too bad you're so goddamn self-assured you can't see the hazardous position you're in. Yancey's deal would have afforded you some protection."

"Go fuck yourself."

"Perfect, Spence. The defensive comeback of every dumb schmuck who has no other defense to offer." Gray opened the office door, saying over his shoulder, "Watch your back, pal."

It was midafternoon of the next day when Barrie returned to Washington. A lot had happened in her absence. Dr. George Allan's attempted suicide had been reported on the front page of the Post. He was in a coma, his wife at his side.

"How'd they manage to keep it under wraps for two days?" Barrie asked.

"Out of deference to his family," Gray told her. "That was Neely's line anyway."

They were guests of the federal government in a comfortable hotel suite.

U.S. marshals were posted outside the door. Bill Yancey was on the telephone in the adjoining room. Every once in a while, they caught snatches of his intense conversations.

"Poor Amanda. It must have been horrible for her to find him like that."

"The gunshot woke her up. She rushed into his office. If she hadn't, he would have died at his desk."

"I hope for her sake he makes it, and that if he makes it, he's not a vegetable."

"Either way, it's rough for her and the kids," Gray said. "What was the son of a bitch thinking?"

"I guess he was desperate and didn't know what else to do."

"There's always an alternative to that, for chrissake,"

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he said angrily. "Yancey probably would have offered him a deal to turn state's witness."

"If he pulls through," she said, "I'm sure that's exactly what Bill will do."

She saw the consternation in Gray's face and remembered that he'd lost both parents when he wasn't much older than the Allans' sons. He also looked tired and haggard, unshaven and irritable. They were all frazzled.

It had been an eventful forty-eight hours.

And there was no respite in sight.

At least Daily was out of harm's way and resting peacefully. He was in comparative luxury in another suite of the hotel. When she stopped in to see him, he'd grumbled about not being allowed to go home, but he was enjoying cable TV, room service, and the companionship of the two young FBI agents who'd been assigned to guard him. They were a captive audience for his tall tales about his years as a newsman.

Barrie glanced down at the copy of the Post on the coffee table and referenced another front-page story. "Would Spence be offended by the small write-up he received?"

"Flattered, more likely," Gray said. "He cultivated his mysterious persona. The less anyone knew about him, the better he liked it."

"I can't believe it." Barrie scanned the concise story again.

"I tried to warn him, but he wouldn't listen. It was only a matter of time before David took him out. The only thing that surprises me is how swiftly he struck."

"You really think Merritt arranged this mugging?"

"Mugging my ass." Gray shot her a retiring look. "Spence was dropped outside his apartment by two guys who all but had FEDS tattooed on their foreheads. What kind of muggers select a victim who's got that kind of heat around him? Spence was always armed. Besides his knife, EXCLUSIVE 441

he carried a pistol in an ankle holster. Whoever mugged him was aware of that. They knew exactly how to disarm him."

After what Barrie had learned in Mississippi, she didn't doubt Merritt's ruthlessness. Without a qualm, he could have his most loyal friend killed.

Shivering with fear, she hugged her elbows. "We're on his hit list too, aren't we?"

"No doubt."

"Then what does he think of this?"

She indicated the third big news story on the front page, which involved her and Gray. Vanessa Merritt had gone on record saying that she had prevailed upon her friends, Barrie Travis and Gray Bondurant, to remove her from Tabor House. They'd been clandestine because of the hospital's strict policy against visitors. The confusion, resulting in Barrie and Gray being suspected of kidnapping, was absurd, she'd said from her hospital bed.

Travis and Bondurant had delivered her directly to her father, who'd had a helicopter waiting. Did that sound like a kidnapping? "I'm sure Clete scripted it and that David isn't happy about it," Gray said of Vanessa's statement. "It would have been convenient for him if we'd been shot as fugitives. But now he has no choice except to back his wife's account of the event. No one's going to disbelieve Vanessa and Clete."

"If I were John Q. Public, I wouldn't believe anything positive they said about us. Not after the incident in Shinlin."

He shrugged. "We've all kissed and made up."

So it seemed, particularly when the attorney general walked in and gave them the latest update. "Senator Armbruster wants to see you."

"Me?" Barrie exclaimed.

"What for?" Gray asked suspiciously.

"He wants to give her an exclusive. He says she's owed one."

"Exclusive about what?" Barrie asked. "What could it be?"

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"Don't get excited," Gray said. "You're not going."

"The hell I'm not! I can't pass up an exclusive."

"You've already got one."

"Doesn't mean I can't have another."

Gray turned to Yancey. "Ever since Barrie got back, all you've done is talk on the telephone, while we've been sitting here with our thumbs up our asses. Why aren't we doing something? With what you have, you can end this thing now. March into the Oval Office, handcuff the bastard, read him his rights, and get it the hell over with."

"It's not that simple. We're talking about the President of the United States."

"I know who we're talking about," Gray shouted. "And he's a murderer."

"Calm down," Yancey shouted in turn. Then, in a more reasonable tone: "We all understand your desire to exact vengeance for Mrs. Merritt and her baby. If the President is guilty of the crimes attributed to him-and all evidence points in that direction," he added when he saw that Gray was about to interrupt, "then we must tread very carefully. We make one mistake, and he's scot-free. While we're waiting for lab reports, I see no harm in having Barrie talk to Armbruster."

"I'll tell you what the harm is," Gray said angrily. "He's as much a criminal as David. You heard what that Waiters woman said. The list of charges against Clete is as long as my arm. Barrie could be walking into a trap that'll get her killed."

The attorney general shook his head. "Armbruster said that Mrs. Merritt is being released from the hospital this afternoon. She'll be there too, so he couldn't have violence in mind." Yancey turned to Barrie. "I gather you're game?"

"Absolutely."

"Where and when?" Gray snapped.

"The senator's house. Eight o'clock."

Chapter

2t precisely eight o'clock Barrie rang the doorbell. It was answered by a Secret Service agent who asked politely to see her satchel. He searched it, then handed it back to her and ran a portable metal detector over her.

Senator Armbruster came forward to greet her. He pressed her hand between both of his and said effusively, "I hope we can put all our misunderstandings behind us after tonight, Miss Travis. I've already spoken to your former employer at VVVi1E. As a personal favor to me, he's agreed to reinstate you. You can have your job back."

"Thank you, Senator, but I no longer wish to be employed at WWE, especially as a charity case."

He smiled magnanimously. "Frankly I don't blame you. After tonight, you'll be able to sell your story to the highest bidder."

"I'm curious about the nature of this exclusive you've promised."

"Then I won't keep you in suspense any longer."

He led her into a lovely, tastefully furnished parlor. A cheery fire was burning in the marble fireplace. Vanessa,

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wearing a ruffled dressing gown and looking like tke frail heroine of a Victorian novel, reclined on a divan. She was still attached to an IV.

Standing before the fire, one arm propped on the mantel, was the President of the United States.

No one had suggested that he would be here. There'd been no waiting motorcade or entourage outside the house. The only Secret Service agents in sight were the two who'd been in the entry when she came in, and she had supposed they were guarding Vanessa. She tried to mask her trepidation.

"Hello, Miss Travis."

She unglued her tongue from the roof of her mouth and said, "Good evening, Mr. President." She could barely hear her own words over the drumming of her heart.

"Hello, Barrie."

Barrie looked down at Vanessa. "Mrs. Merritt."

She smiled. "After all we've been through together, I think you should call me Vanessa."

"Thank you." Taking the chair the senator indicated, Barrie faced the three of them like a witness on the standor a condemned woman facing a firing squad.

"You appear to be feeling much better than you were the last time I saw you," she said to Vanessa.

"I am much better. How's Gray?"

Barrie shot a glance toward Merritt, but his expression didn't change.

"He's shocked by what happened to Spencer Martin last night."

"As we all are," Armbruster said with insincere sorrow.

"Gray sends his regards," Barrie said to Vanessa.

"I can't thank the two of you enough for taking me out of Tabor House.

Under George's care, I would have died there."

Barrie felt like thumping her temple with the heel of her hand. What was this, Wonderland? Was she Alice, who'd

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just tumbled through her mirror into an otherworldly tableau? Since stepping across Senator Armbruster's threshold, nothing had been as she'd expected it. For all the sense it made, their dialogue could have been gibberish.

Surely Vanessa didn't believe that George Allan, acting singly, had devised to kill her.

Barrie saw no alternative but to go along with this bizarre script and see where it led. "Thank you for clearing up the matter of the kidnapping."

"It was a mix-up that needed straightening out."

As simply as that, Vanessa dismissed it. The senator interrupted an awkward silence by offering Barrie a drink. "What can I get you?"

"Nothing, thanks. What I'd really like is to get down to business. Why'd you invite me here?"

"We-the three of us-felt that we owed you this courtesy, Miss Travis." The senator was apparently the mouthpiece for the proceedings. Since greeting her, Merritt had said nothing, but she was constantly and uneasily aware of his baleful gaze.

"As I said earlier," Armbruster continued, "we want to clear up this unfortunate misunderstanding, lay it to rest. Because of all the ill-will felt by both sides, we're offering you an olive branch in the form of an exclusive story."

"What story?"

Armbruster looked at David, who glanced down at Vanessa, then at Barrie.

"Vanessa and I are getting a divorce."

Barrie was too stunned to speak, but she didn't have to. He went on to explain. "Dalton Neely will make a statement to the media tomorrow at noon, although he doesn't know it yet. He'll read this letter from me to the American people. I'm giving you an advance copy." He removed an envelope from the breast pocket of his suit jacket and handed it to Barrie.

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"May I read it now?"

He nodded. She opened the envelope and took out two sheets of stationery bearing the presidential seal. After a sugary salutation, she reached the body of the letter and began to read aloud.

" `The death of our son took a terrible toll on Mrs. Merritt and myself.

The demands of this office also have contributed largely to her unhappiness. Neither of us blames the other for the dissolution of the marriage. We accept our individual blame for its breakdown, although I must assume the larger share of responsibility. Countless times, being president superseded being an attentive husband.

" 'Vanessa is an incredibly unselfish woman. None other would have endured as much as she has for as long as she has. I have nothing but deep admiration and affection for Vanessa Armbruster Merritt.' "

Barrie stopped reading and raised her head. She might just as well have been looking at three formal portraits. Their features were frozen into perfect, perpetual pleasantness.

She returned to the letter. " 'Vanessa and I realize that you, the American people, will be as disillusioned and saddened as we by this turn of events, but no one is immune to this dilemma which is experienced by millions of families in our world community. We ask only that you make no harsh judgments and that you appreciate the honesty with which we're dealing with this unhappy situation.