Full Disclosure (49 page)

“Why didn't you turn him in?”

“I was too infuriated at him not to kill him myself. I felt both duped as well as complicit in the deaths, because I hadn't put together the pieces and seen who he was. He had murdered people, and I had called him my friend. I was guilty of being stupid. Pride and anger and fury were enough to decide I was going to kill him myself. I never had a second thought about that decision.”

“Did you kill him, at the cabin?”

“No. I wanted to. But his hand was on the gun, and he was trying to shoot the diary writer off his back. She caught his elbow, and he shot himself in the head. I was at the bottom of
the pile with one hand on his throat and another gripping his hair, and the shot drove a piece of his skull bone into my hand.” He held up his hand to show the scar on his palm. “That's my statement at this time.”

“Who else knows what you did?”

“No one. I told no one what I had discovered, what I suspected, what I was going to do. These were solely my actions, my decision.”

“Linda, what do you have to add?”

“I have it on videotape. The abduction at least.”

The VP turned to her, surprised.

“I saw the chief of staff pull a gun and turn the boat back to shore. I saw the VP get hit with something that put him on the ground. I saw the car they left in. There was a search for the VP and news there had been a boating accident. There was a tip line. I called in on the tip hotline to state I had seen the VP forced into a car, and I gave a partial license plate number. I don't know if it was ever checked out. When the VP returned after the ‘boating accident,' and the chief of staff was buried having died of a heart attack, I thought the VP had been able to overwhelm and kill him. We never spoke about it, never saw each other. My only contact with the VP was the one meeting when he hired me, and you will hear it on that tape.”

“Why the video?”

“I was using a wide-angle lens to capture the cove and the break wall. I wouldn't be able to tell if I hit my target when it was bobbing around at sea. I'd practiced and it was simply impossible to be a hundred percent sure of a shot when I couldn't predict the waves. The wide-angle video solved that. I would take the best shot I could, then run the tape back and look at what I'd actually hit, see if I needed to take a second shot. If necessary I was prepared to sabotage the boat and sink it and pick the chief of staff off in the water. I'd never taken a contract and not finished it, and it was a point of pride that the last job wouldn't be my first failure.”

“Where is the videotape?”

“I mailed it to you today. It will arrive by courier in the morning.”

“Did you plan your surrender with the VP?”

“The VP contacted me six weeks after the middleman died. He said there was an opportunity if I would like to come in and stop running, and he would do what he could to help me get some kind of deal. We had arranged a contact method years before. He placed a different ad in three newspapers, I combined the numbers, and I had a phone number to call. We spoke only once. He laid out how it could be done, laid out the steps to turn in the tapes, what my letters should offer. He told me the date the book would be released and that I was not part of it, but he had written the chapter about hiring me, and it would be found at his death. He left it up to me if I wished to come in. If I was going to do so, I should email him a copy of one of the letters I sent you, and he would do what he could to help me. That was my sole contact with the VP—the phone call, and emailing him a copy of the letter. The decision to come in and when to do so was mine.”

“Director?”

“It's your case.”

“Sir,” Paul said, turning to the VP, “I am going to listen to the tape, and then I am going to place you under arrest for conspiracy to murder. I will retrieve the chapter and the evidence you have in your safe. We will have another conversation after I see those materials. For numerous security reasons, you are going to be held at your home tonight. In the morning you will inform your staff of your plans to take a vacation for a week, have them clear your schedule. You will then call an attorney and tell him everything.”

“I waive legal counsel.”

“Call an attorney. If there is a deal to be found for what you have done, it will not be negotiated by you.”

“I wish no deal. This goes before a judge for sentencing.”

“For the sake of the office you once held, the ending is not going to be your decision. It's heading for a judge, but the route it takes is going to be decided by others.”

“Then a compromise. I will ask Michael Yates to act as my attorney. I will cooperate on whatever you wish, in return for one agreement. You permit this final chapter to be published. Let me accept public guilt for what I've done. No matter how else this ends, that truth needs to be known.”

“Cooperate on everything I need, at every step along the way, and it can be published when I give you clearance for it to be released.”

“Agreed.” The VP looked past him. “Ann, I am sorry for letting you down. I emailed you an encrypted copy of this chapter before I left the hospital tonight. The encryption key is the first ten-digit code we used. Add a chapter of your own, write the end of my autobiography in your own words. When Paul gives you the clearance, give the chapters to the publisher. Do it because it needs to be done. I trust you to get it right.”

“I will, sir.”

Paul listened to the tape, the room deathly silent as it played. Then he rose and formally placed the vice president under arrest.

“We keep what the VP has confessed to the people in this room,” the director said, pacing the small war room. “We get a deal worked out. Tori, that's your headache. We put him before a judge to accept the guilty plea and schedule sentencing. We time it to coordinate with release of the autobiography. We put him under house arrest while we work this out with his lawyer, and we keep this out of the news until we're ready for it to break.”

Arthur nodded. “We can announce the capture of the lady shooter and her upcoming testimony at the various murder trials without making any reference to the VP's confession. It will buy us time. We can keep this contained.”

The director looked to Paul, then Ann. “I can't imagine how
much a punch in the gut this is. But I need to ask you, Ann. Can you write that final chapter? We publish the chapter on the abduction, the chapter of him hiring the lady shooter, and you write a final chapter. We need his confession out there and public, so we release that confession he just signed, and a transcript of this interview.”

“Give me ten days. I can have his chapter and mine ready for the printer.”

“Will the embargo with the publisher hold?”

“If we raise the bonus for everyone at the plant, I think it will.”

“Get it arranged.” The director looked into the other room at the table, where the VP and the lady shooter were having a quiet conversation. “This is going to be a nightmare. We get ready for it. We put copies of the book out the night before to prep what is coming. The VP is arraigned, then a press conference, then we have the VP sit down for interviews if he's still willing to accept responsibility for what he did. Once this is public, the VP reassigns royalties for the third volume of the autobiography to the families of the victims, as he cannot profit from this.

“I want daily conference calls while we work out the details. Paul, put Sam and Rita on handling his house arrest, and give them as many people as they request on the rotation. Use a cover story that there was a credible threat and we're assisting the Secret Service. I'm comfortable trusting the lady shooter's safety to Marcus and the marshals he assigned. Get her tucked away for tonight, start debriefing her tomorrow.”

“We'll be able to handle it, sir.”

The director nodded. “There's no choice but to handle it.”

Paul took the next hour to get security arrangements made for the VP and confirmed the lady shooter had an airtight security configuration waiting for her. After he finally saw both on their way, he went looking for Ann. She had disappeared shortly after the discussion with the director. He thought she would be
somewhere reading the chapter the VP had sent her, or sketching out on a pad her notes for the events of tonight. She wasn't in the conference room. He headed down to his office. She wasn't there either. He pulled out his phone to call her, then saw the office light that was on. He leaned against the doorframe to Rita's office. “Hi.”

“Rita said I could use her system since she has the double monitors.”

“No problem.” Ann was playing back the hospital security tapes. Every camera feed for the hours before and after the lady shooter's arrest had been put to disk for them. “What are you looking for?”

“I thought I would go tell her husband she's okay.”

He pulled out a chair beside her.

“She was comfortable in that hospital. You don't miss noticing someone with those facial injuries. Staff knew her and thought nothing of her being there in the middle of the night. She was on the surgical floor to leave that tape. Her husband is a surgeon who saved her life.”

“You think her husband works at the hospital.”

Ann found the moment she wanted, of the lady shooter on her way into the hospital. The lady stopped on the walkway from the parking garage to the hospital's main building, stood for a moment looking over and up, then turned and went into the hospital. Ann ran the same camera forward to the middle of the night. She pointed to a lit window in an otherwise dark floor. “There he is, watching, hoping to see you leave with her. Do you want to go tell him she's okay? I'd like to do something nice tonight.”

The odds were good Ann was right. “She's got witness protection and house arrest. He'll be able to see her once this settles down. Let's go find his name, find him, and tell him she's okay.”

A
nn was growing comfortable in this home that was no longer just Paul's but hers as well. She picked up the yellow legal pad and the letter she had written for her husband and went to find him. She found him in the kitchen, fixing dinner for them both.

“Hi.” She slid her arms around him and rested her head against his back. She loved being able to hug him.

He shifted so he could kiss her. “Welcome home.”

She'd spent the last week in the solitude of her private quarters. She'd slept, read a stack of books, and painted in her studio. She felt more relaxed than she had in more than a year.

Paul brushed back her hair. “You look more rested.”

“I needed the week.”

“I know you did.” He kissed her again. “I missed you.”

She leaned into him, loving him. “Can you read my writing?”

He looked at the pad of paper and smiled. “I can probably work through it.”

“How did Black survive?”

“He slept outside your door for the first three days, then conceded he'd come sleep in the master bedroom. I think he's now crashed in the den watching that animal video you got
him.” They heard a clatter and a thump. “Change that. He's heard you. He's coming.”

The dog skidded around the corner into the kitchen, his tail slapping everything he passed.

“Hey, gorgeous.” Ann knelt to hug him. She laughed and glanced up at Paul. “He's not being annoyed with me this time.”

“He's just glad to have you around again.” Paul turned down the heat and reached behind him for a spoon. “Try this and tell me what you think.”

She accepted the spoon and sampled the sauce. “It's good.”

“It's Jackie's new pineapple sauce to go over ice cream. She also sent over her roast beef dish and some kind of corn dish she's experimenting with. I promised her your opinion.”

“I'll be glad to give it.”

Ann slid onto a stool to watch him finish putting together the meal. “I'd offer to help, but, well, you know.”

Paul smiled. “First night back is on me,” he reassured her. “Tomorrow night you can choose which restaurant we call for delivery.”

Tomorrow night. A lifetime of events from now. Tomorrow it would begin.

The VP autobiography was shipping tonight, and sometime in the next couple of hours copies would be delivered to their door. By morning the media would have the biggest story of their year, and tonight no one out there knew it was coming.

Every hour of tomorrow had been scheduled with attention to every detail. The VP would be arraigned at noon and plead guilty, with a deal for a five-year prison sentence. The expectation of a pardon to commute his sentence to house arrest was likely, but it wouldn't come before sentencing, a month away. The lady shooter had agreed to sit for an interview in a location carefully designed to keep her secure. Ann would join Paul for two interviews and a press conference. Sam and Rita would sit with Paul for a series of interviews over the coming week as reporters got their hands around all the elements of what had occurred.

“Don't look so sad.”

Ann glanced up and offered a half smile. “It's more relief, and a desire to be past this. I'm not really worried. So many secrets will be released that speculation about who wrote the diary is going to get buried under more interesting facts for the reporters to concentrate on.”

“You have this place to hide in, and if necessary a plane trip to anywhere you wish to go. I won't let the press be a problem for you.”

“I know. Vicky is coming?”

“Vicky and Boone will be here when we get home tomorrow night.”

Ann was grateful. “I need to tell Kate, before she hears it on the news.”

“Call her after the book arrives and read her the chapters.”

“When do you want to tell your family?”

“I arranged a family call for very early in the morning. Whoever is around will be on it, and I'll post an audio of the call so others in the family can listen to the news.” Paul set a plate before her. “Eat while this is hot.”

Paul fixed himself a plate and slid onto a stool beside her. They ate occasionally at the dining room table, but both preferred the simplicity of this.

“You can tell Jackie it's wonderful.”

Paul smiled. “She's nervous about food in a way I wouldn't have expected. You look really good in my shirt, by the way.”

“I rather like this one.”

“Did you and Lovely get a chance to talk?”

“We did. I needed that kind of week even more than I did the sleep. There was a lot to catch up on, and a lot to prepare for. He told me not to fear what was coming, that He was with me.”

Paul squeezed her hand. “So am I.”

“I know.”

“I'm glad you had that time.” Paul pulled the pad of paper over. “What did you write me in your letter?”

She smiled and let him read. She was coming to like these monthly letters to her husband. She saw him wince and figured he had reached her list of minor things that had to be mentioned. He wanted to know, and she was doing her best to be honest and tell him. Next he laughed. She relaxed. She'd planned what she wanted to sneak into the letter, and it sounded like she was going to get her wish.

She got up to fix a bowl of ice cream with pineapple sauce and brought back two spoons. “I'll share.”

He considered her over a spoonful of ice cream.

“You really want another honeymoon?”

She smiled. “I'll be better at it the second time around. You'll need a reason to get away from the weight of the job for a couple weeks once this settles down. It will be something to look forward to.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“I wouldn't mind a repeat of last time.”

“I can arrange something for when this is over.” He studied her face. “Are you going to be able to sleep tonight?”

“I expect it's going to be choppy. I'm nervous about the interviews. I'm glad you're going to be doing them with me.”

“You won't have to do any of the interviews alone. I was thinking for tonight you might want to see an old movie. We'll share the couch for a few hours.”

“My favorite way to pass an evening.”

He caught her hand as she slid off the stool. “I'm glad you married me before this day arrived. You could have asked to wait, and you didn't.”

She linked her fingers with his. “I made the right decision. I love you.”

“I figured that out when you agreed to the wedding.” He leaned forward to kiss her. “You want popcorn for the movie?”

“I do, if only because Black likes to mooch.”

“I'll fix it while you choose the movie. Tomorrow, when the day is getting chaotic, remember the peace of tonight. We'll have more quiet evenings like this one eventually.”

“It's what I'm counting on.”

“Ann?”

She stopped tugging away from him and smiled at him. “Yes, Paul?”

“If you're going to be up reading tonight, I might join you. You still owe me Tom and Jennifer's story. Print me out a copy?”

“It's just a background piece, not a story, but I'll make you a copy.”

“I like your love stories. When you finish writing ours, I'd like to read it first.”

She blushed. “How did you know I was working on our story?”

“You smile when you're writing on that pad of paper, and you often get lost in thought looking at me. I know your expressions. You're remembering this last year together.”

“You are the best part of this year.”

“I'd agree with that. You are the best part of mine.”

“You need to let go of my hand.”

“In a minute. I love you, Ann. I know your secrets, I know what the next few days are going to bring. I'm going to protect you, have a non-answer ready when the questions get posed I don't want you to deal with. You'll let me protect you and speak for you tomorrow when necessary.”

She thoughtfully nodded. “I'm going to let you handle as much of it as possible. I don't want to be famous, or known, or be the center of attention. I'll gladly let you speak for me.”

He kissed her palm and released her hand.

He watched his wife and his dog disappear into the den. Tomorrow he got to be a husband when it mattered the most, when the world came tossing questions at his wife. She'd handle the VP story, she'd handle the questions about the chapter she had written, and he would get her through the chaos of the day. He had wanted the role of husband, and he had it now. He'd make sure she was carrying her duty weapon, he'd make sure she was in comfortable shoes, and he'd make sure there was a
good book tossed in her flight bag so he could carve out thirty minutes of sanity for her whenever he could.

He fixed popcorn and thought about a year ago. He decided God had answered most of his hopes and most of his dreams. He'd found a good wife. The details were still unfolding for what that meant, but it was a change he'd wanted, needed. He liked being a husband. And sometime after this was over he was going to have to tell her the director had formally asked him to take over the Chicago office. He'd let her decide if he should take it. He'd had enough of the politics of being in charge during the last few months to last for a lifetime. He thought he'd enjoy going back to being just a murder cop.

“Black, I get the couch tonight, buddy.”

The dog dropped from the couch back to the floor, and spotted the bowl of popcorn. He came over with a wagging tail and upturned face. Paul had brought a paper plate for him and dumped two handfuls on it. The dog had to step on the plate to keep it from sliding around the room. Paul settled on the couch with Ann.

“We both spoil him.”

Paul smiled. “We do. I like spoiling my family.” He leaned over to kiss her again because she was near, because he could. “I think we should spend part of a honeymoon being tourists again. You can fly us to all the interesting spots for taking pictures, the Grand Canyon, the Tetons, the beauty of the Great Plains. I'd like a few hours in the air with you, where no one can interrupt a long conversation.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“I'll come up with something. I've missed you, Ann. It's been too much work and not enough time hanging out with you.”

She laid her hand against the side of his face. “We'll get it balanced again. I think spending some time being tourists sounds perfect. And there is nothing I like better than to fly for a few hours for pleasure. I would love spending that time with you.”

“It's a date then. We haven't had enough of them.”

She smiled. “I'll put it on my calendar.”

“I found your calendar in my briefcase the other day. That tells me how much you missed it. It's probably been there for about a month.”

“I'm like Black. My schedule is to see where you are and follow you.”

He laughed. “I do like that about you, Ann. You keep your priorities straight.”

The dog pushed at him for more popcorn. He refilled Black's plate.

Ann started the movie. “If I could define what I most want in life, it's this, an evening with you.”

He dropped a kiss on her hair. “There will be more of them. That's a promise. We're in this together, forever.”