Rodgers walked away from where Kat was sitting. He went to a quiet corner at an empty gate and stood with his back against a wall. It felt good to stand after being in the crowded plane. People were rushing about, but the general felt disconnected from their urgency. He had always felt that way in combat, too. There was a tightrope strung between himself and the outcome, with potential enemies everywhere. He had to be very attentive to each step. This investigation was like that in a way because of what the outcome meant to him personally and professionally. Rodgers felt apprehensive as he punched in the number. He did not think Darrell or Maria was calling to find out if Kat had told him anything. Rodgers would have called from a phone on the airplane if he had intel. The call probably meant the McCaskeys had information for him. Maybe they had found the killer, an angry former employee or maltreated valet.
The information Darrell had was not what Mike Rodgers wanted to hear.
“A woman from your circle was at the second crime scene,” McCaskey told him. “The time is right, and she was wearing a dress that matches the color of fibers found in the room.”
Since this was an unsecured line, McCaskey would not tell Rodgers how he found that out, but the former FBI agent was a conservative man; he would not have made such a conclusive statement if he weren’t sure.
“Who is it?” Rodgers asked.
“The reporter.”
Lucy O’Connor. Rodgers felt relief, doubt, and renewed concern in quick succession. The relief was because the killer appeared to be outside the group. The doubt was because it seemed unlikely Lucy would have conceived the one murder alone, let alone a second murder and possibly the bombing of Op-Center. In the little time he had spent with Lucy, she did not seem to have the patience for murder. And concern because, if all that were true, Lucy had to be in league with someone. That still did not clear Link or his people.
“What about the hat with the big brim?” Rodgers asked. “Is that a match?”
“Not worn in this image,” McCaskey said. “But it could have been stuffed into a shoulder bag.”
That made sense. If she were caught on a security camera outside, there would be one less element to connect her to images from the hotel.
“What do you want me to do?” Rodgers asked.
“I think you should tell your traveling companion and see how she reacts,” McCaskey said.
“I agree. We leave for San Diego in less than an hour. I’ll try to call back before then.”
Rodgers hung up. He flipped the phone shut and started walking toward Kat. She was still sitting there, her eyes fixed on nothing, her index finger in her open ear as she talked on the phone, conducting her business. But which business? And how was he going to find out? He was a soldier, not Morley Safer.
The seat beside Kat was open. Rodgers took it. She did not attempt to conceal what she was saying.
“… only CNN talks to him before the press conference. That’s the deal we made for a prime-time spot,” Kat was saying. She was silent for a moment, her shoulders straight and stiff, her mouth a tight, unemotional line. Then she said, “I understand, Diane. But Larry was the only one who offered that. What about this: you get the first talk with the ticket. I would want ten minutes in the eight o’clock hour of the morning show.” She was silent again. “Yes, an exclusive sit-down at the senator’s home in Georgetown.” Kat smiled slightly as she listened. “Good. I will present it to the senator, but I am certain it will be okay. Thanks. Say hi to Mike.” Kat punched the Off button and slumped into the seat. “Well, this is what I worked for. Now I’ve got it.”
“What is that?”
“A hungry press,” Kat replied. “Before Wilson, Senator Orr was only on the radar of the all-news networks. Now everyone wants him, especially if they can shoot at the party house.”
“Lucky break for us,” Rodgers said.
Kat looked over. “I’m too busy for sarcasm.”
“Okay. Let’s try it straight up.” Kat had given him a clean shot, and he decided to take it. Maybe that was the best way. “What do you say to Lucy O’Connor being at the Hay-Adams when Wilson was murdered?”
“I would say she was trying to get an interview,” Kat replied. She speed-dialed another number.
“Or maybe trying to make news,” Rodgers suggested.
“What are you talking about?”
Rodgers looked around to make sure no one was listening. For all he knew, Lucy O’Connor had been on their flight. “There is an image of Lucy leaving the Hay-Adams shortly after the murder. The dress she had on is the same color as the one the assassin was wearing.”
Kat terminated the call. “That hardly makes her a killer or even an accomplice,” she said. “Maybe they bought it off the same rack.”
“That’s a reach,” Rodgers said.
“So is your idea of what constitutes a murder suspect,” Kat said. “You’ve got a hungry reporter. A reclusive news-maker. Of course she would be at the hotel after the party, trying to intercept him.”
“You’re defending her pretty adamantly,” Rodgers observed.
“This is America. Lucy is still innocent. Besides, she doesn’t deserve to be pilloried. Nor does Senator Orr,” Kat said.
“Is that what you think is happening?” Rodgers asked.
“Yes. You or someone at Op-Center has obviously made up their minds that we are guilty of murder, or worse.”
“No one has made that determination,” Rodgers told her. “This is an investigation.”
“Yours or Op-Center’s?”
“Until my resignation takes effect, I am working for Op-Center by assignment and command of the undersecretary, Department of Defense Security Cooperation Agency,” Rodgers replied.
“Then I suggest you get back to Washington and complete your assignment there,” Kat said.
“For the record, I have spent most of my career in the field, protecting America and the rights of its citizens. I have condemned no one, either openly or in here,” Rodgers tapped his right temple. “You, on the other hand, have made up your mind that I am out to get you. If that were true, I would have turned this over to Paul Hood and his bulldogs.”
Kat’s expression returned to neutral. She looked at her phone and tapped it in her open palm. “It sounded like an attack,” she said.
“I’m a soldier. A lot of things I say come out like that.”
“Not always.” The young woman regarded Rodgers. Neutrality suddenly looked more like exhaustion. “General — Mike — I really don’t know about what Lucy did or did not do. And I do not want to be defensive. It’s just this whole thing has been a distraction at the worst possible time. Part of me believes it was designed that way by a person or group that does not want to see the senator become president or even have a voice in this election.”
“Do you have any idea who that might be?”
“Sure. Every lobbyist and politician from the center to the left. Political rivals like Senator Debenport and Governor Jimmy Phyfe of Ohio, both of whom want President Lawrence’s job.”
“Do you have specific information that either of those men may be involved in the assassination?” Rodgers asked. “If you do, even if it’s just a suspicion, this would be the time to tell me.”
“There are rumors that Debenport and Lawrence are using the presidency to attract allies for partisan activities, but we have no proof of that,” Kat told him. “Anything you can imagine is possible in Washington, but I don’t even want to believe that.”
Rodgers had always felt like a resistance fighter, risking his life to stop oppression. At the moment he felt like a collaborator, dirty and small. He moved closer. “You just said that anything you can imagine is possible. I have never done a lot of abstract thinking, Kat. I look at maps, at facts, at logistics. Since this thing started, I have been taking one small step at a time, just as I did whenever I led a unit against an enemy position. The difference is, I am accustomed to knowing who my opponent is. This is new ground for me and for Op-Center.”