Katherine chewed on her lower lip. “I had to check something out. I was trying to protect your reputation, but it seems that you don’t need protecting. It seems that what you’re accused of, just may be true.”
“What are you talking about?”
Katherine pointed to the documentation the agents had confiscated that now lay on Carolyn’s desk. “I think that explains everything.”
Carolyn read over the pages and shrugged. “It’s my E-mail log. What’s incriminating about it?”
“You E-mailed Cain?”
“Cain owns a private investigator firm, and yes, I’ve used them from time to time. That’s certainly not a criminal offense.”
Then, Katherine handed her the E-mail Jack had given her that tied Carolyn to Cain regarding his beating.
Carolyn quickly read the message. “Who wrote this?”‘
“I thought you did.”
Carolyn placed her hands on her desk, her gaze fixed on Katherine. “You need to tell me everything you know. Starting with Jack’s well-being.”
Katherine blanched. This wasn’t what she had planned. But now, she was committed to a complete explanation. She just hoped Jack would forgive her.
SEVENTY-SIX
Vice-President Richard Young walked beside the president as they made their way to a luncheon with the Congressional leadership in the East Room.
“This is a good opportunity to float Brandon Ross as a candidate for the Supreme Court appointment. I think a soft approach-”
Warner stopped and turned to Richard. “I would have thought that after all your years on the Hill, that you’d have realized that how you approach these guys doesn’t matter. It’s all about what they want, negotiation. And by the way, I’m not going with Ross.”
“I thought we had agreed he was the best choice,” Richard said through clenched teeth.
“No, you wanted Ross. I simply agreed that he was qualified. I’m going with Carl Rembrandt.”
Richard shook his head. “He’s too controversial and extreme. This will bite us in the ass. I can’t endorse that man.”
“When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it,” Warner turned and strolled into the room.
Throughout the luncheon, Richard hid his rage behind a practiced smile. Warner had made a habit of freezing him out, and showed no signs of thawing. He took another bite of filet mignon as he watched the interaction of the president and the Congressional leaders. The topic was an energy conservation bill that was destined to hit the president’s desk within the month.
“I think we need to take this up on the golf course,” Warner said.
“Only if you carry a pen in your golf bag,” Speaker of the House Jonathan Daniels said with a laugh. “In fact, you sign off on this bill, and I might consider letting you win the round of golf. Mr. President.”
Everyone in the room erupted into laughter.
Richard forced a laugh.
Warner’s gaze lifted from his plate and his eyes locked on Richard’s. “Richard. I’m sure everyone is interested to hear about your recommendation for the Supreme Court opening.” All of the attention in the room turned to the Vice President.
“The Vice President is recommending Carl Rembrandt for the post,” Warner continued. “Please expound on your reasoning.”
Richard caught his expression one beat before it slipped to shock.
A slight smile played on Warner’s lips. He had him by the balls and knew it. In fact, it was obvious to Richard that Warner was thoroughly enjoying this moment.
The bastard.
Warner’s sniper shot hit the bulls-eye. He should have seen him taking aim, Richard thought. Warner’s set-up had been perfect. The depths of his ruthlessness amazed Richard. In all of his years in politics, he’d never met a man so able to bend the rules to his will and repeatedly get away with it.
Now, he faced a no-win situation. Contradicting the president in public would be considered an unforgivable offense, capable of destroying his political future.
Publicly supporting Rembrandt for the post would lock him to the radical judge and tarnish his Boy Scout image. He didn’t have much choice in the situation. Richard realized the latter was the least of the two evils.
Warner’s machinations were brilliant, Richard thought. He’d set him up to take the fall if Rembrandt was rejected as the next Supreme Court Justice, and if he was approved, then Warner got his way. A win win for President Lane.
Richard set down his fork, regained his composure, and began. “Carl Rembrandt is a brilliant judge with a distinguished legal history.”
SEVENTY-SEVEN
Carolyn stormed into the Oval Office.
Warner turned as she entered. “I’m in a meeting. Check with one of the secretaries to see when I’m free next.”
“You’re free now.” Carolyn looked pointedly at the men, two senators, the Speaker of the House, and thee Cabinet members, who sat with Warner. She refused to play by Warner’s rules, even if it meant suffering his humiliation from time to time. “Or we can air your dirty laundry in front of them?” She waved the sheet of paper she held. “Your choice.”
Warner nodded toward the door and the meeting dispersed.
Carolyn watched them exit. When she turned back to Warner, his face was crimson.
He stood, walked to his bar, poured himself a double Jack Daniels, and belted it down.
Not his first for the day, Carolyn was sure.
“Don’t you ever pull a stunt like that again.” He set his glass down, and moved toward her. “I won’t tolerate it.”
“And I won’t tolerate this.” She threw the paper at him. “How the hell did you get my E-mail address and my password?”
He laughed. “Don’t you mean, who did this? And why?”
Carolyn shook her head. “That’s your problem, Warner, you’ve always underestimated me. I know who did this. And I know why. I want to know how?” She knew she’d been betrayed. But she wasn’t sure by whom. All of the arrows pointed to Dailey, but she struggled to believe it was true. She hoped Warner’s ego would force him to gloat, providing her with the answer.
“All you need to know is that you’ve been set up, and set up well. You’ll march to my tune now, or I’ll see you arrested and claim you’re mentally unfit. Edmund’s got several doctors in his back pocket, all of whom are ready to attest to your illness. The deeds you’ve set in motion are horrendous.” Warner shook his head. “And the smoking gun is so hot, it appears to have been used in a shoot out.”
“So, Mark came up with this on his own?” She played her hand.
“Dailey couldn’t come up with shit on his own. He had help.”
“You son of a bitch.” Her worst fears were contained. Now, she knew she couldn’t give Jack away by mentioning Adam Miles’s files. It would be like issuing his death sentence.
“I like to think so,” Warner smirked. “Some of your crimes may be forgivable, the heat of a political battle and all that, but when you went after Young’s boy, well, no one will ever forgive an attack on a child. Especially when it’s ordered by a woman who claims to champion children’s causes.”
He’d hurt a child. He’d almost killed Richard’s son. And he’d done it in her name. Carolyn felt something snap in her mind. She remembered screaming. “You bastard, you bastard…”
And then she flew at him, unable to control her rage.
Warner wiped at the blood that trickled down his cheek. “You bitch! You fucking bitch! You scratched me.”
At Warner’s outburst, a Secret Service agent ran through the door. He grabbed Carolyn and held her away from Warner.
She took a few deep breaths and turned to the agent. “You can let go of me.” She could see sympathy in the embarrassed faces of the agents, and it made her feel worse.
The agent immediately released her.
Carolyn smoothed her fingers over her hair, then straightened her clothing.