Liss scuffled to his feet and made his way over to the seat in front of me. There were a handful of other passengers in the car and they started to take notice. Not that I cared.
“I was right about you getting back into the White House today, wasn’t I?” he asked.
I didn’t bother to answer. I stared at the window.
“I have sources,” he said.
“Let me guess. Is his name Deep Throat?”
I felt his gaze rake me up and down. “Isn’t that a little before your time?”
“Facts,” I said, biting the word out, “and history are important to me. And should be to all of us.”
I was feeling pretty good about holding my own against this despicable man. He had already hurt me-and my mother-with his vicious column. I had nothing to lose here. I almost wished he would keep at it, so I could knock him to his knees.
He lowered his voice and leaned closer. “What if I told you I have facts that would rock the country’s very core?”
“I’d say you wouldn’t know a fact if it bit you on the-” Stopping myself in the nick of time, I cleared my throat. “I’d say you were bluffing.”
He raised a white eyebrow. “So you are a temperamental chef, after all.”
Placing my hand on the back of his chair to boost myself, I stood to change seats, yet again.
“Please wait,” he said, placing his hand over mine. “I apologize.”
I yanked my hand out from under his. “You will never be able to apologize enough.”
When I sat four seats forward, across from an elderly woman who gave me a worried glance before staring at the floor, I expected him to follow. He didn’t.
He stayed in his seat for the entire ride to MacPherson Square. As the train pulled into the station, I stood to disembark.
Just as the train slowed, Liss stood up. He made his way over. Seconds before the doors were to open, he leaned close to my ear.
“There was trouble in the security office,” he whispered. “It has to do with China. Minkus was about to investigate Phil Cooper, his second-in-”
I turned to him, and spoke in a clear voice. “I know exactly who Phil Cooper is. After everything you’ve written, so does the entire population of Washington, D.C. ”
Shock registered in his eyes and he looked from side to side, like a spy from a 1940s movie. “Not so loud-”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” I said. “And why are you bothering me with this anyway? I don’t have time to listen to your crazy conspiracies. If you believe you have some burning scoop, why not publish it in your column? Why accost me on my way to work?”
By now the entire train was paying attention.
He whispered, “Because I think you can get me information on Phil Cooper and his anti-American activities.” His teeth were clenched, his body was rigid, but his eyes didn’t leave mine. “From your Secret Service boyfriend.”
How did he know about Tom? Speechless, my mouth moved, but nothing came out.
He took the opportunity to lean in again. “You want me to go public with your romantic dalliances? I’m sure that headline will sit very well with MacKenzie’s boss.”
The car’s doors opened. “Climb into that little hole of yours and dream up more of your nasty lies,” I said. “It’s what you’re good at.”
I stepped out and didn’t look back.
CHAPTER 18
MY ANGER AT LISS DIDN’T DISSOLVE, BUT MY mood lightened the moment I stepped into the White House kitchen. It was clean. One of our crews had evidently put everything back in its place after the investigators finished. And the smell was exactly right. Dash of yeast, a sprinkle of coffee, and hint of cleaning solution. Although the scents were faint-we’d been banished for four days-they were strong enough to make my heart race with possibility. I closed my eyes for just a moment to breathe it in. “Oh,” I said quietly. “It’s good to be home.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
At Cyan’s voice, my eyes opened. “As much as I’ve been enjoying my family, I really missed coming to work.”
She tied an apron around her waist and lifted her chin to say hello as Bucky entered the room. “I have so many friends who complain about going to work,” she said. “Some of them really hate their jobs. I almost feel guilty because I love this place so much.”
“We’re blessed,” I said.
“Yeah, but for how long?” Bucky wondered.
Cyan and I had the same reaction to Bucky’s question. We both stared at him with puzzled expressions.
“This isn’t over,” he said. “I heard what that medical examiner said this morning.”
“I didn’t know he was on TV today.”
Bucky’s downturned mouth let me know that whatever Dr. Michael Isham had had to say wasn’t particularly good news. “Yeah. After Paul called, I flipped on the news. The medical examiner’s office isn’t clearing us of anything yet. He said that results are still pending.”
“Then why are we here?”
He shrugged with exaggerated motion. “They can’t have the Easter Egg Roll without us, I guess. They can trust us to hard-boil a few thousand eggs for the kids to play with. But I wager they won’t allow us to work on the food for the event.” He held up a finger in emphasis. “I guarantee they’ll come up with a reason why we won’t be serving food on Monday.”
“We always serve food at the event. That’s part of the draw,” I said. “I’m sure now that we’re here, everything will start getting back to normal.”
Bucky shook his head, scowling. As he turned away, Cyan’s expression asked me where the pleasant fellow from yesterday had gone.
Paul greeted us from the doorway. “Welcome back.”
We spent the next few minutes exchanging greetings and comments about being glad to be at work again. I mentioned to Paul the need for the kitchen to bring on a couple of SBA chefs and expressed my preference to have Rafe, and our recent recruit, Agda, as part of the team. With our workload, we would need a few more temporary chefs, too.
“Ah,” he said. “Other than the three of you, and Marcel and his staff, we’re not bringing ‘unknowns’ into the kitchen until the entire Minkus investigation is complete.”
My mouth opened in disbelief. While we could handle the day-to-day meals with ease, we could not-by any stretch of the imagination-handle Monday’s anticipated crowd by ourselves. “How are we going to feed all the partygoers at the Egg Roll?” I asked. “Rafe and Agda have worked here before. They’re not exactly unknown. And even with them we’ll be severely shorthanded.”
Paul waved away my concerns. “I understand. Let me explain. There has been a change in plans.”
Bucky gave me a look that said “I told you so.”
Paul took a deep breath. “After much discussion, the president and First Lady have decided that it would be in the best interests of all if we limited Monday’s events. We will hold the Egg Roll as scheduled, but no White House party afterward.”
If a person could look smug and unhappy at the same time, it was Bucky.
“But…” I didn’t know what else to say. “Why?”
“Coming on the heels of Carl Minkus’s death, the aspect of a formal party that evening might be construed as unseemly. In bad taste. But no one would disagree with keeping the Egg Roll for the benefit of the children.”
Bucky’s warning made me believe there was more to it than keeping up appearances. For his part, Bucky had turned his back while Cyan and I waited for Paul to finish.
“You have to understand that the president and First Lady believe in all of you. They wanted you back here as quickly as possible. This”-he held his hands aloft-“is a testament to their belief. Don’t underestimate it.”