Fires of Autumn (6 page)

Sheridan
was silent a moment, pondering the insensitive directives of an insensitive
man. But it was not his place to dispute him and he found it difficult to
restrain himself. Wisely, he shifted the subject.

"If I
do, in fact, discover communication between Talbot and the Cartel, what then?”
he wanted to know. “Are we really going to bust the President of the United
States?"

Mr. Meade
lifted his shoulders. “That remains to be seen."

"How?"

No one
would give him an answer.  It wasn’t his business, anyway. He was an operative
and nothing more. Sensing the conversation was over for the moment, he marched
down to the loading bay and out into the pouring rain. By the time he got to
his car, he realized he had ground his teeth so hard that he had bit his lip.

***

The night
before had been sleepless, just like the three nights prior. Working on this
damn proposal was finally taking its toll now that crunch time had arrived. It
was Friday and the meeting with the new President was in an hour. As Senator
Scott Dane sat in the back of his black Lincoln Town Car, it was difficult to
keep his eyes open as he studied the finer points of the document one last
time.

"Scott?"
The man seated next to
him
elbowed
him
gently. "Wake up, sir. We're not done with this yet."

Scott took
off his glasses, digging his knuckles into tired hazel eyes. "Damn,"
he hissed. "I don't think I've had more than 10 hours of sleep in the past
four days."

His
administrative aide grinned. ''No time to sleep now," he said, handing the
senator another stapled stack of papers
.
"You can sleep for a
whole night when this is over with. But the Chairman of the Ways and Means
committee had better know his stuff." He jabbed a finger at a highlighted
paragraph on page two. "Take a look at that; Talbot's an environmental
freak. You're asking for more funding to support the logging efforts in the
Cibola National Forest. Don't forget that. "

"I
know, I know, Talbot's the former governor of New Mexico," Scott rubbed
his eyes again and put his glasses back on, reading the information in front of
him; he was in his late forties and exceptionally handsome. His brown hair was
perfectly groomed with flecks of gray, and his face was tan with deep grooves
carving through each cheek
.
He didn't look his age and took
great pride in his top physical condition. He had a twelve year old son who
looked just like him, a brilliant boy who was the center of his life. After his
wife, Carol, died ten years ago, it had only been Scott and Rob.

"What
do you think?" Kurt asked when Scott had finished reading the paragraph.

The
senator sighed, handing the paper back to his aide. "I think," he
said, "that Talbot's going to rake me up one side and down another. He
isn’t going to like this proposal in the least, but he's got to understand the
potential revenues and job creation of this particular bill, especially for New
Mexico and Colorado."

"Even
at the expense of his beloved environment?"

"What's
more important; feeding your family or starving with a view of the
forest?"

"Talbot's
going to say that without an environment, there won't be any families."

"Talbot
needs to get a grip on reality. And the reality is, jobs are needed in that
particular area. The Native Americans in the state of Arizona alone have a
nearly 46.5% unemployment rate. So in order to preserve unused forest land,
he'll let his former constituents starve." Kurt shrugged lamely and Scott
shook his head with disgust. "Christ, Talbot knows better than that."

The White
House came into view shortly thereafter. The rain had eased somewhat from a
hellish torrent for most of the morning, but the streets were still running
with water and the south lawn of the White House was unnaturally green against
the contrast of the clouds. The town car pulled around to the north side of the
White House to the west wing entrance, and Dane lithely climbed from the car.
The senator moved very quickly, yet with a good deal of grace, and Kurt
followed him, and a couple of White House aides, into the warm, stale building.

The aides,
a man and a prim-looking woman, led the senator into a lobby that linked with a
corridor. They took a couple of turns and ended up in another main corridor
that led past the Roosevelt Room and on into the President's office. Dane
almost ran the aides down with his naturally fast pace and it was an effort for
the pair to keep ahead of him.

"You're
the first to arrive, Senator," the woman said. "President Talbot is
in his office and has asked for a short meeting with you before the others
arrive."

"Fine,"
Dane replied shortly. He knew the layout of the administrative offices well,
but this was the first time he had been here to see the new President. Most of
the faces were different, as the staff changes from one President to the next.
He had been quite familiar with Obama’s people, as he had spent a good deal of
time here battling for one thing or another.

They
turned a sharp comer and the oval-shaped reception area of the oval office came
into view. The aides led Senator Dane into the recently remodeled foyer, done
in dark wood and vintage wall paper. Dane began to unbutton his coat as one of
the aides disappeared into the large office to the left of the reception room
that connected with the President's office. Kurt was helping
him
from his
coat and Scott was concentrating on what he was going to say to Talbot when he
suddenly looked up and caught a glimpse of very pretty legs. Looking further,
the legs were attached to a female form in a black suit that could only be
described as magnificent. Gaze trailing up the torso, the head that topped the
body possessed the most beautiful face he had ever seen. Sensuous violet eyes
were gazing at
him.

"Senator
Dane?" The woman was extending a hand. Scott was so dumbfounded that he
almost forgot to shake it. "I'm Casey Cleburne, President Talbot's
personal assistant. If you'll follow me, please."

To the
ends of the earth, doll,
was Dane's first response, but he wisely bit
his tongue. Instead, he found himself trailing after her, half in a daze,
wondering why he felt as if he was sleepwalking. Like she had hypnotized
him
somehow.
Sure, she was beautiful. But he knew a lot of beautiful women. Certainly, now
was not the time to gape at one
, and especially not the President's
secretary.

Christ,
I'm rambling,
he thought with distress.
I should be focused on my meeting,
but I'm looking at a woman's rear-end and rambling about it.

His hazy
thoughts were abruptly cut short as Casey came to a sudden halt. Scott glanced
up from her rear-end long enough to notice she was indicating a couch against
the wall underneath three recessed T.V. screens.

"If
you'll have a seat, the President will be with you in a moment," she said.

The
televisions were going, all three of them, but she picked up the remote and
turned them off as if she could read his mind. With all of the turmoil that was
currently going through his brain, the last thing he needed was the added
distraction of three separate news stations.

Dane took
a seat, trying not to let his thoughts show and struggling to refocus. Kurt had
his brief case and he took it from the man, setting it on his lap and popping
open the lid. Usually, Kurt would be helping
him
get
organized. But a glance at his aide showed him to be focused on the lovely
woman with the glorious hair as she took a seat behind her massive desk.

"How
are you, Casey?" Kurt asked, ever-charming. "Long time, no see."

Casey
smiled at the dashing-looking man.
"It
has been a
long time," she agreed. "Still playing pool?"

Kurt
nodded. "When I have time. How 'bout you
?"

Dane
couldn't believe that he was focusing on their conversation instead of the task
before him. More than that, he could hardly refrain from jumping into the
dialogue.
So Kurt
knows her?
"You two know each other?"
Smooth, Dane, smooth!

Kurt
nodded. "We met a couple of years ago. Casey worked at the Pentagon when I
was there and we used to pass each other in the hall all of the time."

"Pentagon?"
Dane turned around, using the conversation as an excuse to look at her again.
"What did you do over there?"

"I
was Bill Perry's secretary, sir."

"The
Secretary of Defense?"

"Yes,
sir."

Dane tried
not to stare at her too obviously as he spoke. "How'd you like it over
there?"

She
shrugged. "I like it here better. Too many military jarheads ... oh, I'm
sorry, sir. I didn't mean .... "

He smiled,
putting up a hand to stop her. "I was never a jarhead, Ms. Cleburne,
merely a

swabby.
There's a difference."

Kurt was
back in the conversation. "The Secretary of the Navy is more than just a
sailor. He owns the whole damn fleet."

Dane
glanced at him. "And four years was long enough for that nonsense. Then I
moved

on to
bigger and better things."

"Being
a senator?"

Dane
turned his attention back to Casey. Christ, she was so lovely and
sweet-sounding that it was difficult not to gawk at her. "Crazy,
huh?"

She
laughed. Even her laugh was beautiful. "Well, you must be doing something
right. You have a tremendous reputation."

He dipped
his head graciously. "Spoken like a true administrative aide. Always
straddle
both sides of the fence, Ms. Cleburne, and you can't go
wrong."

She
laughed again. "I wasn't straddling anything, senator. I was simply
speaking the truth. Your reputation is well-known and...." The intercom
went off and she picked up the receiver. After a few short words, she hung up
and rose from her chair. "The President will see you now."

Dane
secured the lid of his briefcase and handed it to Kurt. Rising from the couch,
he could smell Casey's perfume as she passed
him
en route
to the door to the oval office. Opening the panel, she smiled and ushered the
senator and his aide inside.

Scott was
thankful that day for Kurt. The smile on Casey's face seemed to erase all of
his memory and had he not had his aide present, he would have looked like a
fool. Strange thing was he almost didn't care.

CHAPTER THREE

"Come
on, zip me!"

"I'm
... trying!"

The zipper
of the dress was stuck.
It
was an expensive and sexy confection, a sheath dress that ended
mid-thigh, the material wall to wall sequins that made the dark gray dress
shimmer with every move.  It was tight, but it was meant to be, clinging to
every curve now with an uncooperative zipper.  Casey’s twelve year old son,
Hunter Cleburne Nantz, was trying desperately not to tear the fabric.

"What's
it stuck on?" Casey demanded.

"A
string," Hunter grunted. “Seriously, Mom; do I have to do this?”

“No,”
Casey said. “I can just go get the homeless guy down the street. I’m sure he’d
be happy to do it, especially when I tell him he can have anything he wants out
of your room as a reward.”

Hunter
made a face. He was an extremely handsome kid, blond with his mom’s violet
eyes, and tall for his age.  He knew he didn’t have a choice with this zipper
thing, so he pulled gingerly at the zipper, the string, separating the two.
Finally, the dress zipped with ease and Casey let out a pent-up sigh

"Thank
you,” she turned to look at herself in the mirror as Hunter made haste out of
the bedroom door.  Casey called after him. “Don’t run off too fast. The money
for the pizza guy is up here with me.”

Hunter
leapt back into the room, heading for the bed where Casey’s purse was pulled
apart as she switched her things to a smaller black clutch.  Behind him came
younger brother Brody, nine years of age and a blond hipster who carried his
longboard with him everywhere he went.  Even now, it was in the hallway as he
rushed in on his brother’s heels with the lure of money.

“Mom,” he
said when Hunter shoved him aside and took the twenty dollar bill on the bed.
“Can Aiden and Jack come over later?”

Casey was
putting on long, glimmering dark gray earrings to match the dress. “Sure,” she
said, glancing at her son. “But don’t make extra work for Aunt Riley. And clean
up after yourselves, please?”

Hunter was
already gone with the money and Brody nodded quickly, following his brother out
of the room.  As soon as they cleared the stylish bedroom with the big
king-sized wrought iron canopy bed in the middle, a vibrant red-head entered
the room, looking flustered.