Edgewood Series: Books 1 - 3 (104 page)

“Did anyone tell Russ I’m here?”

She pushed the door open and ushered me through. “You can tell him yourself.”

Russ

After the last of the crowd came through the receiving line, a man strode up to a podium in the front of the room, and spoke into a microphone. "Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I give you the president of the United States!"

A hush fell over the crowd and President Bernstein stepped forward. She adjusted the microphone and with a smile said, "Welcome everyone, to the third annual Presidential Black Tie Bash!” She waited for the applause, which came thundering. When it died down, she said, "I am proud to see assembled here some of our brightest and best citizens. Whether you’re an entertainer, a scientist, a diplomat, a politician or what have you, please know that you play an important role in making America a great country. This evening is a thank you for your talents and support. As a nation we still have our challenges, but just for tonight, please set those concerns aside and enjoy our hospitality. Very soon the band will begin and dancing will commence. In the meantime, we'll keep the champagne flowing. If anyone imbibes too much and needs a ride home at the end of the evening, please let us know." A few people in the crowd laughed and a smattering of applause came from somewhere in back.

I felt a hand on my arm and glanced over to see Layla standing next to me. “Hey there,” she whispered. “Now I can relax. The worst is over.” I hoped she was right, but the night was young. A lot could happen.

The president wrapped things up by saying, “And now, let the fun begin.” She had a joyful look on her face, such a contrast to the hospital scene of a few days ago. When she’d said the part about the evening being a thank-you for your talents, I felt like she was talking right to me. But maybe everyone in the room felt that way.

The president stepped away from the podium, and the noise level in the room rose as people resumed talking and drinking. I heard the clinking of glasses and more laughter, a sign the champagne had begun to kick in. People milled around and several guests approached the president and her husband to talk. I watched worriedly, but didn’t notice anything that looked threatening. On the other side of the room, a young woman I recognized as an actor from the Syfy channel had Vice President Montalbo’s attention. She chattered away gesturing wildly with her hands, while he listened, amused. Next to me, Mallory and Jameson were watching too.

The staff began setting up table and chairs around the perimeter of the dance floor. Each circular table was covered with a linen table cloth and topped with a candle. On the raised platform on the far end of the room, the band was setting up their equipment. Someone, somewhere, lowered the lights to give the evening some ambiance, and my heart fell as I realized this would make it even harder to check out the guests. I clenched my fists again, ready to strike if I had to.

“Lighten up, Russ,” Layla said, giving my arm a squeeze. “You look like you want to kill someone.”

“Believe me, I don’t want to kill anyone,” I said. “But I’m ready to do what I have to.” Now that I had her next to me, I was able to say it. “Tell me about Nadia.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh my, that was amazing! One second I’m alone in the bathroom, the next she’s right there like she beamed up from the Enterprise. She’s really super cute, by the way. At first I thought she was a ghost—”

“But what did she say?”

Layla laughed. “Someone’s impatient! If you’ll give me a minute I’ll get there.”

There was no stopping her; she was determined to tell the story her own way. I listened politely while she told me the whole thing, complete with her reactions and how Chloe kept knocking on the door because she couldn’t figure out who Layla was talking to. Nadia had told her there was a plan to kill her and her mother, which didn’t seem to alarm Layla in the least. “It’s a big country,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “There’s always some crazy who wants the president and her family dead. We get threats all the time.” She had trouble remembering it all. “And something about a Specteron. You know what that is?”

“No.”

“Well she seemed all worried about the safety here. I assured her the Secret Service has it all locked up tight. That’s sort of what they do.” She waved her hand. “I told her I had no interest in you, which I think made her feel better.”

When she finished, I felt the need to recap. “So she said the inspirational stones Mrs. Whitehouse gave us contained explosives?” Layla nodded. Good thing we threw the stones away at the airport. Somewhere a landfill full of garbage would be exploding. I continued, “And she said I shouldn’t trust Mallory or Jameson?” I glanced in their direction but nothing in their faces said they had traitorous intentions.

“Yes, young man, that’s pretty much what she said. I told her not to worry. The security at this thing is crazy, but she was all concerned about you. It was pretty adorable.”

“Did she say anything else?”

Her pursed lips moved from side to side as she thought. “There was something else, but I’m having trouble remembering.” She snapped her fingers. “Oh!” she said. “I know what it was. She was on a flight here at the time, and it sounds like she’s going to make it to the Bash. She’ll be late though.”

“What time? Did she say?”

Layla shook her head. “I don’t have a clue. But remember that you’re my date so I’m not giving you up once she gets here. She can have you for the rest of your life, but tonight you’re mine.” She linked her fingers through mine and said, “Time to dance!” The band had started with a slow song and some guy at the mike was doing his best Frank Sinatra impersonation.

The next thing I knew, I was being dragged to the middle of the empty dance floor. Mallory and Jameson, following the instructions that we all stick together, were right behind us. We were the only ones out there. When we got to the center of the floor, Layla very theatrically curtseyed to me. This hadn’t come up in our dance training, but I played along and bowed. On the sidelines, the crowd’s attention shifted to us, and when Layla and I finally came together and began dancing, applause broke out. It was mortifying to know that every pair of eyes in the room looked our way. Luckily for me, my worst dancing beat Jameson’s best dance moves any day of the week, so by comparison I was doing pretty well.

Layla’s pressed her body tightly against mine and breathed into my ear. “You’re probably wondering why I wanted to be the first on the dance floor.”

“Yeah, I did wonder. Isn’t the president supposed to dance first?”

“Technically yes, but trust me, my mom doesn’t care,” Layla said, shifting her head in the direction of her mother, who watched us with a pleased expression. “She’s just happy to see me touching a man.”

“So I qualify as a man?” I felt my lips tug upward into a grin.

“More or less. But to get back to my point…”

“Yes?”

“If we’re looking for infiltrators, this provides us with an excellent opportunity to scope out the crowd. They’re stationary but we’re moving. Look at the faces,” she urged. “Are there any in particular that are looking at me in a strange way? Calculating, maybe? Or impatient, like they’re waiting for their moment?”

As we swayed and twirled I kept my gaze on the rest of the guests. Dressed in tuxes and ball gowns, they all looked vaguely alike. We might as well have been at a costume party. “I’m not seeing anything odd.”

“Keep looking,” she said, “because I noticed a few suspicious looking people and I want your opinion.”

Next to us, Jameson valiantly tried to keep in rhythm. With each step I saw his lips move. I swear he was counting to himself. When we first got on the dance floor Mallory had laughed at his jerky moves, but if he stepped on her toes one more time, she’d be losing her patience real fast.

Layla took over, pulling me around to give me the right view. “That guy right there,” she said with a tilt of her head. “See him? The one with the dark hair? Kind of good looking? He’s been staring at us in a really creepy way. I swear I can feel his eyeballs boring into me right now.”

I grinned. The creepy guy whose eyeballs were boring right into Layla was David Hofstetter. “Trust me, he’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. I know him. He’s a friend of my sister’s, that’s why he’s staring.”

She exhaled audibly. “Okay, if you’re vouching for him, that’s good enough for me. Okay, now I want you to check out two other men.”

“Where?”

“Don’t look around like that. It’s too obvious,” she said through gritted teeth. “It’s those two near the bar. When they went through the line they were announced as being father and son, but they don’t look at all alike. The father is small and puny, and the son is massive like he’s a wrestler or body builder. They don’t fit.”

I craned my neck to see. Sure enough, a gray-haired older gentleman with a mustache and goatee and glasses stood a head shorter than the guy who was supposed to be the son. The son, who didn’t look much older than me, had broad shoulders and a military haircut. It wasn’t that unusual for a father and son to look different. But the younger guy had a familiar look. Where had I seen him before? “Who are they?” I asked.

She shrugged. “The line moved so quickly I didn’t catch their names.”

“I’ve seen the son before, I think. I don’t know the father.”

“Maybe they’ve been in the news? Most of the people here are well known in their field. I just thought there was something not quite right about them.”

“No, not from the news…” I strained my mind trying to figure out where I’d seen this young guy. Another place, another time, a different context. And I had the feeling that something about him was different. Like watching a movie and trying to figure out where you’ve seen an actor before. The idea that I’d met him nagged at me, but I couldn’t pull up the specifics. I shook my head. “I can’t place him.”

When we got off the dance floor, Layla went to point the two out to one of the Secret Service agents, who nodded and said they’d keep watch. I stood back to give them space to talk. Jameson and Mallory, who’d followed us, watched curiously as Layla gave the agents the update. “What’s up?” Jameson asked.

“Layla’s just checking in with them.”

“Anything we should know about?” Jameson said.

He sounded so sincere that I almost told them, but no, Nadia had said not to trust them. I shrugged and said, “Nothing so far.”

Jameson took a step in that direction, trying to hear what Layla was saying. Mallory took this opportunity to sidle up to me. “Can you do me a favor, Russ?” Without waiting for me to answer, she grabbed my hand, pressed something into my palm and closed my fingers over it. She stood on her tiptoes and whispered into my ears. “Keep this for me and don’t give it back to me even if I ask for it. Can you do that for me?” I opened my hand to see an ivory rose on a chain—the necklace she’d gotten from Mrs. Whitehouse.

“Sure I can do that, but why—”

Mallory put a finger over my lips and shook her head. “No matter what I say, don’t give it to me. Promise?”

“Well, sure but—” I said, stopping when I saw the terrified look on her face.

“You have to promise me, Russ.” She stared up at me with big eyes.

“I promise.” I slipped the necklace into the inside pocket of my suit coat.

A second later, Layla returned, with Jameson right behind her, and said, “Okay, that’s set.” The four of us came together in a four leaf clover configuration. Anyone watching would think we were planning something.

“What was that all about?” Jameson asked, tipping his head in the direction of the agents.

“Just talking about my birthday,” she said nonchalantly. “People have been bringing gifts. I never keep them and now I have to write thank you notes.”

The air in the room seemed different to me now—more charged with electricity, more menacing. I saw the president and Mr. Bernstein making small talk with guests, every one of them a potential Associate. How quickly the room changed before my eyes. Was I getting paranoid, and if so, was that a bad thing? I opened and closed my hands, assuring myself that I had energy on hand and that at a moment’s notice I could shoot a bolt of electricity across the room, an idea that reassured me and terrified me at the same time.

As we walked away I felt a hand grip my shoulder. Startled, I wheeled around to get loose and reflexively I let out a zap of electricity. Just a small one, a flash of silver between my hand and the guy’s chest, but even that little bit was too much, because a nanosecond later I realized it was David Hofstetter and I’d nailed him a good one. The impact caused him to stagger and drop to his knees. “Dammit, Russ,” he said, clutching his chest.

Nadia

I walked through the double doors into the Bash and was transported into another world. Somehow I’d thought the event would be like a wedding reception or a prom (both of which I’d only seen in movies and on TV), but this room, these people, surpassed anything I could have imagined. Ornate pillars, like Roman columns lined the long sides of the hall. Overhead, semi-sheer fabric draped in between crystal chandeliers supplying soft lighting, making the place look dreamy. Floor-to-ceiling curtains were held back by gold cords which were looped around the fabric multiple times ending in tassels as big as my fist. The men in tuxes and the women in their elegant gowns floated across the dance floor. I’d been sent back to one of Gatsby’s parties. It would be so easy to get lost in this piece of heaven and forget why I was here.

My first objective though was to find Russ. I’d thought it would be easy, that all I’d have to do was look across the room and I’d spot him, but I was short and couldn’t see past those standing in front of me. I looked for an empty chair, thinking I could get up on one, but every single one in sight was occupied. I weaved my way through the crowd, searching as I went. A waiter stopped to ask if I wanted a glass of champagne. I started to say no, then reconsidered and took a glass. “Thanks.” I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was until I took that first sip. The golden liquid went down smoothly. As I walked around, glass in hand, I recognized almost everybody. Actors, politicians, scientists, they all had a familiar look, which added to the feeling that I’d dreamed this whole thing. When I was done with the champagne, I set the empty glass on the edge of a deserted table and kept walking.