All the President’s Menus (24 page)

The next morning I didn’t even have to say a word. Bucky arrived, took one look at my bruised face, and asked, “What happened?”

I brought him up to speed on the prior night’s adventure. “Once Tom and his band of Secret Service agents arrived to take control of the scene, I was finally able to relax.”

“Where are Hector and Nate now?”

I held up my hands. “They were taken into custody by the agents, but after that I don’t know. I’m sure I’ll find out more shortly. Tom called an urgent meeting this morning.”

“Where was Gav through all this?”

“Working late.”

“You didn’t call him to come get you?”

“Once I got home, I called him, sure,” I said, “but his job and responsibilities don’t include racing to the scene every time the White House chef runs into trouble.”

Bucky shook his head, chuckling. “Now that I think about it, that would be a full-time position in itself.”

“He was understandably agitated that I hadn’t called him sooner.”

“I’ll bet.”

In fact, when Gav got home, his first words were, “I want to hear it all. Start from the top. Don’t leave anything out.”

I hadn’t. His emotions at the retelling had run from furious at the assault, to being proud of me for my handling of it, to impatience at not being able to obtain updated information from his Secret Service colleagues. He’d tried, but—as of last night, at least—there were still too many layers of protection covering the chaos for even someone at his level to penetrate.

Bucky had donned his apron and was ready to get started. “What happened to the tape?”

“Tom has it.” I looked up at the clock. “You’re on your own for breakfast this morning.” Pointing to a small batch of potatoes on the countertop, I added, “I peeled those but that’s as far as I got. Tom’s meeting starts in ten minutes.”

“Got it.” He stretched his neck, rubbing his hand down its length, his expression thoughtful. “What about the other two? Cleto and your buddy Tibor?”

“I have no idea,” I said. “Stephanie and I didn’t translate the entire tape, but from the portions we heard, it seemed as though Cleto and Tibor were unaware of the plot the other two had in mind.”

“So,” he began warily, “they’re coming back? To continue working with us?”

Gav and I had talked about this at length last night. “I can’t say that I have any real influence when it comes to diplomatic decisions, but I’m not going down without a fight. I cannot allow either man in this kitchen ever again.”

“How well do you think that will go over?”

“I have no idea. The decisions made at high levels don’t always follow logic.” Taking a quick glance at the kitchen clock, I jumped. “I’d better get over there.”

“Good luck,” he said.

“Thanks. I’ll need it.”

*   *   *

I arrived at the Secret Service office in the West Wing with about one minute to spare. Tom’s assistant showed me in. I wasn’t surprised to find Sargeant there, but I stifled my shock at the sight of Cleto and Tibor. Sargeant and the Saardiscan men stood as I entered. I worked to keep my expression from betraying my disbelief.

Cleto stepped forward, offering me his now-vacant seat, even though there was a spare one waiting for me on my right. “Thank you, I’m fine.” I sat.

Tibor’s scowl, which had been such a permanent fixture on his weathered face, was gone, replaced by a flat expression that betrayed no emotion. He sat down after I did, not looking at me.

Cleto stepped back and as he and Sargeant lowered themselves into their seats, Cleto shook his head. “My sincerest apologies, Ms. Paras. I assure you that all citizens of Saardisca would be horrified to learn of what those two evil men were planning.”

“Everyone here has been briefed regarding the incident yesterday evening,” Tom said, bringing the meeting to order. “The Saardiscan government has been fully apprised and the State Department is in discussions now with them to determine our next steps.” He took a look around the room, making eye contact with each of us in turn.

“Nothing that is discussed is to be repeated outside this room,” Tom continued. “The only exceptions being Bucky, Marcel, Margaret, and certain Saardiscan officials Cleto and I have identified.” He squared his jaw as he faced Tibor. “Do you understand?”

Tibor still wasn’t scowling, but the blank, unreadable expression was gone. Wild, furtive eyes betrayed fear. “I do not wish to discuss this with anyone.” His right leg bounced and his fingers, clasped together in his lap, were white from being gripped so tightly. “I had no knowledge of what Nate and Hector were planning. I am innocent.”

“No one knew,” Tom said, offering the nervous man vague absolution. “We are, however, pleased to be aware of their scheme now. As things stand at this moment, we have obtained incontrovertible proof that Nate and Hector intended to harm Kerry Freiberg during her visit. Saardiscan officials have been informed and they are cooperating. We’re all very interested in discovering what the two men’s motivation was. As of right now, they are admitting to very little.”

Sargeant used the tips of his index finger and thumb to rub his eyebrows. “What
was
their actual plan?” he asked.

I thought it was a reasonable question.

Tom breathed in slowly through his nose, clearly impatient. “I am not at liberty to discuss specifics. What I can tell you, however, is that we have searched their hotel rooms and found enough evidence to detain them until further notice.”

“Where are Hector and Nate now?” I asked.

“We have them in a secure facility in Maryland.”

“They should be sent home at once to face punishment,” Cleto said. He turned to Tibor, looking for support. “Our government does not tolerate such treachery.”

Tibor, however, was focused on Tom. “What is to become of me?” he asked. “Am I to be sent home, too?”

“The reason I called you both here this morning was to advise you that as a result of these extraordinary circumstances, neither of you will be allowed to return to the White House after this meeting. We have already notified your government of our decision and they understand our position. I trust you both do as well.”

Cleto’s shoulders sagged. “But this was to be the crowning achievement of my career,” he said with patent dismay. His cheeks flushed pink and his hefty hands came up, gesticulating as impassioned words spilled. “You must believe me. There was no way I could have known of their terrorism. All four chefs were assigned to me. I did not choose them. I did not know them and could not have predicted this.”

Tom listened politely. I breathed a deep sigh of relief. We were done with the Saardiscans in our kitchen. Done for good with the men who had brought us nothing but aggravation and trouble. One more piece of good news and I’d be dancing disco across Tom’s desk. Ducking my head, I worked hard not to allow my delight to show.

“Your government understands,” Tom said when Cleto took a breath.

“And yet they allow me to be stripped of authority?”

“They didn’t say a word about your duties or your authority. You’ll have to take that up with them later. As you might imagine, they were far more concerned with the consequences of Hector’s and Nate’s actions.”

“Then what is to happen to me?” he asked.

“I haven’t been told,” Tom said. “I hope you can appreciate the fact that our governments are scrambling to understand what’s going on here. I anticipate that you will be receiving updated information as it becomes available.”

A team of four Secret Service agents waited to escort Cleto and Tibor out. Both of them wore downcast expressions as they were herded away. Cleto turned to me, offering his hand. As we shook, he said, “Please express my disappointment and my great thanks to your assistant Bucky, and to the delightful Marcel. I am most appreciative of the time I spent with them. And many thanks to you for your generosity of spirit.”

“You’re welcome,” I said. “I hope our governments get to the bottom of this soon.”

“As do I.”

Right behind him, Tibor glared at me. “Good luck to you,” I said.

I thought he was going to walk out without responding, but he surprised me by asking, “What made you suspect Nate and Hector? Why did you tape their conversations?”

I hesitated.

Tom came up from around his desk. “Let’s not get into that. All we need to know is that their plans were defeated.”

One of the agents nudged Tibor’s arm, but the Saardiscan didn’t move. He stared at me as though willing me to shrivel and die on the floor in front of him. “As you know, I do not support this woman, this Kerry Freiberg, in her quest to become president. But to stoop to such a measure to prevent her from competing for the position is dishonorable.” He continued to stare malevolently, and it dawned on me that he was trying to convey sincerity rather than malice with that incensed expression. “You have done a great service to Saardisca.”

With that, he turned away.

Speechless, I watched them leave.

The next morning, Bucky and I were in the best moods we’d been in for a very long time. Bucky whistled as he whipped up scrambled eggs. I hummed to myself as I flipped bacon.

“Unbelievable, Ollie,” he said over his shoulder. “You managed to save Kerry Freiberg’s life without alienating the Secret Service—for once.” He glanced up at the kitchen clock.

I checked the time, too.

He grinned. “And you managed to get rid of our Saardiscan visitors in the process. Bravo, Ace. Nicely done.”

“Thanks,” I said. “All in a day’s work.”

Not only had we been freed from our responsibilities regarding the Saardiscan chefs, not only had I not gotten into trouble for sticking my nose into international business, we were being rewarded. Cyan was coming back, albeit temporarily. I glanced up at the clock again.

“I know,” Bucky said. “I can’t wait for her to get here.”

“Marcel is thrilled to have his first assistant back in the pastry kitchen, too,” I said. “We may have our teams in place only until this dinner is complete, but I plan to enjoy every minute. With any luck,” I added, “the sequester will be over by then and life can get back to normal.”

“You
are
quite the optimist, aren’t you?” Bucky gave me a stern look, but I could tell he felt the same way.

Cyan appeared in the doorway, arms extended high in a victory pose. “I’m baaaack!” she said with a huge grin.

Bucky and I let out happy shouts of joy as we welcomed her with hugs and laughs. She was wearing her purple contact lenses today, and a smile as wide as I’d ever seen. I hoped, selfishly, that her plans to leave the White House wouldn’t materialize for a long time. Focusing on the present, however, I reminded myself that she was here now, and that’s all that mattered. We were together, we were a team again. And with that thought, the tension of the past ten days dissolved.

With my hands clasping both Bucky’s and Cyan’s forearms, I grinned. “For the first time since the sequester started, things are looking up.”

When Margaret appeared in the kitchen two minutes later, I wondered if I’d spoken too soon. “Mr. Sargeant requests your presence in his office,” she said.

“Now?”

“Immediately.” She thrust one hip to the side and perched a fist on it while using the other hand to slide her oversized glasses up her nose. “If it was a scheduled meeting, I’d have sent you a notice via e-mail. It’s imperative that you come upstairs with me right away.”

I exchanged a glance with Bucky and Cyan. Bucky asked, “Are you in trouble?”

Before I could reply, Cyan shook her head. “Looks like nothing’s changed while I’ve been gone, has it?”

Tight-lipped and blinking with impatience, Margaret motioned me to follow. “Let’s go. Mr. Sargeant has a busy schedule today.”

Sargeant barely looked up when I was shown into his office. He was standing behind his desk, fingers lightly holding the edges of reading glasses as he studied a document in his other hand. “Olivia,” he said by way of greeting, which I took as a good sign. “Please sit down.”

His usually orderly desk was awash with papers, most of which appeared to be printed schedules with hastily scrawled notes in their margins.

When I sat, he did, too, still reading the page. He made a noise that conveyed overburdened aggravation, then handed the paper to me.

I started to scan, noting immediately that it was a copy of an e-mail to Sargeant from the White House chief of staff, time-stamped very early this morning.

“I’ll save you the trouble of reading,” he said, “if you’ll spare me the trouble of arguing.”

I hadn’t gotten very far into the actual text of the message, so I looked up at him and nodded. “I want you to see,” he continued, “that this is a directive coming from above. I need you to realize I have absolutely no influence with respect to this decision.”

“This says,” I began, “that Tibor is still invited to attend the dinner tomorrow night.”

Sargeant peeled his reading glasses from his face and tossed them onto the pile of papers. He rubbed his eyes, leaving them small and pouchy. It looked as though he hadn’t slept all night.

“Correct.” He rolled his hand toward me. “This is where you tell me—based on all the recent drama surrounding our visiting chefs—what a ridiculously terrible decision that is.”

I bit back my automatic reply. That was exactly what I’d been about to say. I pulled in a deep, steadying breath. “And there’s nothing we can do?”

“And there’s nothing we can do.” He sat back, looking shorter than usual, almost like a little boy reclining in a grown-up’s chair. “While the chefs’ visit here did not proceed as we’d planned, Saardisca is hoping to salvage the endeavor and to use this dinner as a photo-op, with Tibor their proof of the chefs’ successful visit.”

“Successful visit?” I repeated. “One of their chefs is dead and two others were plotting to kill Kerry Freiberg.”

He nodded again.

“How can they take such a risk? What if Tibor was in on it?”

Sargeant shrugged, sitting up a little. I’d seen him out of sorts in the past, but never like this. “They assure me they’ve gotten to the bottom of Hector and Nate’s conspiracy.”

“And?” Exasperation strangled my voice.

“Tibor is absolved of all suspicion. He’s completely innocent of any wrongdoing.”

I arched a brow. “As innocent as Hector and Nate?”

Sargeant sat all the way up. He leaned his elbows on the desk and tapped his fingertips together. He sucked in his cheeks and seemed to chew on them for a minute. “My counterpart in Saardisca has told me, in confidence, that Hector and Nate were not strangers to each other before they were sent here. Through bribery and extortion, they arranged to have themselves named as top chefs of their provinces.”

I stifled my grunt of irritation. “That explains why neither of them was particularly talented in the kitchen. Did Kilian discover what was going on? Is that why he was killed? How in the world could the two men have accomplished this? They had to have had help.”

“The Saardiscan government is investigating how such a nefarious plan could have been carried out under the radar. Though they promise to keep me updated, I doubt we’ll ever know the full truth of the matter.” He sighed. “As for Kilian, his death was determined to be from natural causes. Their medical examiner released his findings yesterday.”

“Fine. Even if I believe that, I don’t understand how the government can still insist on allowing Tibor to attend the dinner. He doesn’t particularly want to, you know. He’s made that clear from the very start.”

Sargeant glanced at his watch. “Perhaps that’s an indication of his innocence,” he said. “All I can tell you is that this chef visit was to be a major step in the right direction for Saardisca.”

“What about Cleto?” I asked. “Is he invited, too?”

“I’m waiting for an answer to that question myself.”

“And they don’t think Cleto was aware of the plot, either?”

Hands spread in a helpless gesture, Sargeant said, “Apparently, Cleto was acquainted with only one of the chefs—Kilian—before their visit here. He and Kilian came from the same province and had worked together several times in the past. Cleto says that he will vouch for his deceased friend’s innocence in this whole devious plan.”

“But not for Tibor’s innocence?”

Again, the helpless hands. Again, Sargeant consulted his watch. “One more thing—we may continue to make changes as we move forward today and tomorrow.”

“What kinds of changes?”

He blinked his bloodshot eyes. “If I knew, I would tell you.”

“I’d still like to get over to Blair House to scope out the kitchen ahead of time,” I said.

“I have communicated your request to the staff there. When I get an answer, I’ll let you know.”

I stood to leave. “Thanks for bringing me up to date.”

“I hesitate to admit it, but I will be very happy when we bid these Saardiscans a final adieu, and I daresay you will be as well.”

At the door, I turned. “By the way, thanks very much for bringing Cyan back for the duration. She’s the one silver lining in this whole mess.”

He’d already donned his glasses and returned to studying the pages before him. “Don’t thank me yet,” he said. “We still have the next few days to get through, and I’m convinced they will be a challenge.” He turned to me, staring out over the tops of his glasses. “Do try to stay out of trouble.”