Smooth Operator (Teddy Fay) (3 page)

A
White House aide led Stone past the head table, where President Kate Lee and First Husband and ex-President Will Lee were entertaining the French president and a host of VIPs including the Senate Majority Leader and the Speaker of the House.

Dinner was in full swing. The guests were already enjoying the first course of caviar and quail eggs.

The aide made sure Kate noticed Stone’s arrival, then led him across the dining room to his table.

Stone was clearly sitting with the lesser lights, not that he minded. The empty seat at the table was next to a stunning redhead in a low-cut blue ball gown.

Stone pulled out his chair and sat down. Waiters rushed to bring him his appetizer.

The redhead arched an eyebrow and said, “Nice of you to join us.”

“I almost didn’t make it at all. I had a wardrobe malfunction.”

She smiled. “I could have helped you with that. I’m very good with clothing.”

Stone smiled. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”

“You certainly haven’t,” she said, holding out her hand. “Margo Sappington. White House legal counsel.”

“Really?” Stone grinned, shaking her proffered hand. “I’d have thought for that position you had to be stuffy and senile.”

Margo smiled and leaned against him playfully. “Just what position did you have in mind?”

A white-haired man across the table pointed at Stone in a preemptive manner. “Excuse me. I don’t believe I caught your name.”

“Stone Barrington.”

“I’ve heard of you. I don’t recall your connection to politics.”

“I’m a lawyer,” Stone said, as if that explained it all. “And you are?”

“Congressman Marvin Drexel, North Dakota. You realize you’re very late.”

“It was unavoidable.”

“A congressional logjam is unavoidable,” Drexel said pedantically. “Lateness is merely bad judgment.”

“A congressional logjam is only unavoidable when obstructionist morons put party ahead of country.”

“God save me from men who parrot talking points!” Drexel snorted. “You weren’t supposed to be here, were you?”

Stone smiled and pointed. “I think that’s my name tag.”

“It was my understanding Congressman Jenkins would be at this table.”

“Really? Are you wrong often?”

An elderly man at the table burst out laughing. “Got you there, Marvin.” He reached out to shake Stone’s hand. “Sam Snyder, congressman, Maryland. Democrat, I might add. Which is why Congressman Drexel has been ignoring me.”

Stone laughed politely, but merely smiled and nodded, hoping to forestall the conversation. Sam Snyder had a kindly, avuncular nature, and struck Stone as the type of man who’d latch on to you at a wedding and bore you to distraction with benevolent goodwill. The last thing in the world Stone wanted was to get involved in a political squabble between two rival congressmen.

Luckily, Margo came to his rescue. She plucked Stone by the arm and said, “So you’re a lawyer, too. Maybe that’s why they put us together.”

“I’m not sure that’s the reason,” Stone said, “but whoever arranged the seating, I’d like to thank him.”

“Are you here alone?”

“Yes.”

“Me too. So much nicer to pair up with someone than be the third wheel to some married couple.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

The rest of the dinner progressed smoothly. Caviar and quail eggs gave way to a summer salad from the White House garden, followed by an entrée of dry-aged rib-eye beef.

Margo was in heaven. “This steak is to die for!”

Stone smiled. “It’s good, but I’ve had better.”

“Oh? Where?”

“Elaine’s.”

“Elaine’s?”

“In New York City. On the Upper East Side. She died, and the restaurant closed. A shame. Elaine was wonderful. I always ate there.”

“Didn’t Woody Allen used to hang out there?”

“No,
I
used to hang out there. But I let Woody drop in from time to time.”

Margo laughed, and dug into her rib eye.

By the end of dinner Margo was flirting with Stone in a way the congressmen doubtless found distracting. At one point she practically leaned into his lap. She came up giggling and holding a cell phone. “This was on the floor. Yours?”

“Yes, thanks.” Stone slipped it into his pocket.

Margo’s eyes twinkled. “Did you do that on purpose?”

“What?”

“Put it there so I’d lean over?”

Stone laughed.

Congressman Drexel watched their banter with growing irritation.

Dinner was followed by a command performance of a violin
concerto featuring a French virtuoso. “Where’d they find one?” Stone whispered.

Margo put her hand over her mouth to keep from giggling.

Finally the last note ended. Before Stone could suggest they retire elsewhere, an aide tapped him on the shoulder. “I understand you need to make a phone call.”

Stone shook his head. “That wasn’t me.”

“Yes, it was. If you would follow me, please.”

“He has a cell phone,” Margo said.

The aide shook his head. “It’s from another phone.”

Stone shrugged helplessly. “If you’ll excuse me, it seems I have to make a phone call.”

Margo slipped a card into his hand. “Just in case you have to make another.”

Stone followed the aide across the banquet floor and out the double doors. Instead of taking him back the way he had come, the aide ushered him through a service door marked
NO ADMITTANCE
.

Stone found himself in a narrow back corridor. Halfway down the hall was a desk with a phone, but they sailed right by it, followed a labyrinth of back passageways, and emerged in a small antechamber. The aide gestured for Stone to sit down.

There was a phone on the desk next to him. “Is this where I’m supposed to make a call?”

“No. When the intercom buzzes, don’t answer, just get up and go in.”

The young man went back out the way they’d come, closing the door behind him.

The intercom buzzed a few minutes later. Feeling like a fool, Stone got up and pushed his way through the door.

He entered the Oval Office and found Kate Lee sitting at the coffee table with the Speaker of the House.

“Ah, good, you’re here. Come in, sit down. You know Congressman Charles Blaine?”

“Only by reputation, we’ve never met.”

The congressman did not rise to offer his hand, but he looked up and his face told the story. This was a man on the brink of despair.

“My God, what’s wrong?” Stone said.

Kate took a breath. “What I’m about to say doesn’t leave this room.”

Stone figured he was being warned largely for the congressman’s benefit. Kate knew he’d be discreet.

“Of course.”

“As you may be aware, the congressman and I had a meeting this afternoon.”

“I think everyone is,” Stone said.

The meeting had been widely reported, and rumors were rampant. The fact that the Republican Speaker of the House was having private meetings with the Democratic president was significant, particularly in light of the current congressional session. Several crucial votes were coming up, and the prospect
of a bipartisan compromise had led to wild speculation. The political news shows could hardly talk of anything else.

“Congressman Blaine and I are supposed to be ironing out our differences. To a certain extent that is true, but it’s not the reason for this meeting.”

“Then what is?”

Congressman Blaine looked at him with pleading eyes. “My daughter’s been kidnapped.”

S
tone stared at the congressman. “What?” he said incredulously.

“I got a call Sunday night on my cell phone,” the Speaker said. It was as if a dam had broken, and the words all poured out. “I almost didn’t answer, because it said Unknown Caller, but I did. It was a man. I’d never heard his voice before, but he had a slight accent. He said he had my daughter, and if I ever wanted to see her alive again I’d listen carefully and do exactly what he said.”

“Which was?”

“Stay away from the police. If I contact the police or any authorities whatsoever, she’s dead. I know that’s what kidnappers always say, but he meant it. He said it was a deal-breaker. The police, the FBI, the CIA, the Secret Service, anyone. If I told anyone, they’d know, and they’d kill her and disappear.”

“How much do they want?”

“They don’t want money.”

“What do they want?”

“Votes,” Kate said. “They want his votes. They wanted him to get in touch with me, to propose a bipartisan initiative. Or what was
supposedly
a bipartisan initiative. His job was to line up enough votes to pass a bill the Republicans were blocking in the House.”

“They said if I didn’t do it, they’d kill my daughter. If they didn’t see immediate evidence of me reaching out to the President, they’d kill my daughter. That’s why we’re having these meetings, and that’s why they’re publicized.”

Stone turned to Kate. “How long have you known?”

“Only since this afternoon. A few days ago Charles came to me with his bipartisan proposal. I was stunned, but of course pleasantly surprised by the outreach. Then he arranged the meeting this afternoon, insisting it be given media coverage. Only when he got here—”

“I broke down. Told her everything. I couldn’t take it anymore. I’ve been carrying this around with me all week. I hadn’t told anyone.”

“Why today?”

Blaine sighed. “This came this morning.” He reached into a manila envelope, pulled out a paper, and passed it over.

It was a rap sheet. The mug shot showed a blond college-aged girl. The charge was felony possession of a controlled
substance. Her attorney had gotten it down to a misdemeanor, and she had paid the fine.

“They’re threatening to expose this?” Stone said.

Blaine shook his head. “It’s public knowledge. I campaigned on it. If it could happen to my daughter, it could happen to yours.”

“Then what’s the point?”

“I don’t know. That’s what scares me. They have my daughter and they sent me this. What can it mean?”

“I have no idea,” Stone said. “So what are you going to do?”

“Anything they want.”

“Specifically.”

“There’s a bill coming up in the House regarding medical benefits for wounded vets.”

“They want you to block it?”

“They want me to pass it.”

“What’s the problem?”

“It’s a clean bill. The Republicans want to vote it down in favor of an amended bill guaranteeing no portion of the medical benefits would go to birth control. They’re demanding that the clean bill sails through, or they’ll kill my daughter.”

“So what if it does?”

“I’ll be a Judas, the betrayer of my party. But I don’t care if it would save her.”

“Can you swing the votes?”

“Probably. There’s one hard-line conservative who might block me.”

“How?”

“Debate it to death, kill the bill. If he doesn’t get his way, he’ll filibuster until my daughter’s dead.”

“Who is that?”

“Congressman Marvin Drexel.”

“He was at your table, Stone,” Kate said. “Did you get a read on him?”

“Oh, yes. Congressmen Blaine’s assessment seems accurate.”

Blaine raised his eyes to Stone. “What do I do?”

“Have they offered proof of life?”

“No.”

“Next time they contact you, demand proof of life. Tell them if you get it, you’ll swing the vote.”

“Demand? I can’t make demands.”

“You can and you must. They’re not going to kill her just because you ask. If they do, they lose their leverage. Just let them know you’re ready to give them what they want. They’ll be eager to make that happen.”

“If you think so.”

“Let’s be brutally honest. Either your daughter is alive or she’s dead. If she’s dead, nothing you do can change that. If she’s alive, we want to keep her that way. We have to sell the idea that her kidnappers get nothing if they don’t.”

“What do I say?”

“Say you’re too upset to continue if you don’t know she’s alive. Don’t rehearse it too much. Just start talking and it’ll all come pouring out.”

“Go home and do as Stone advises,” Kate said. “We’ll take it from here.”

As soon as the congressman left, Stone turned to Kate. “How much of that is true?”

She looked surprised. “You think he made it up?”

“Not for a minute. I mean what you told him, that you haven’t contacted anyone but me.”

“That’s the truth. If I do something and his daughter dies, I’d never forgive myself.”

“That’s what I figured. Who knows about this?”

“No one, not even Will.”

“That doesn’t add up.”

“Why not?”

“Someone took a shot at me on my way here.”

“What!”

“I was followed when I left the tailor shop. They fired shots, and tried to force my limo off the road. That’s why I was late. Expect an extra charge for the tux.”

“So what can you do?”

“What do you expect me to do? You want me to find his daughter, but no one can know I’m looking for her. But someone obviously does. The question is how. What about the aide who brought me in here? What does he know?”

“Just to tell you you had a phone call and leave you in the antechamber.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

“And who gave him those instructions? Clearly you didn’t.”

“Ann did, and she didn’t blab to anyone. She wasn’t even here.”

“You didn’t talk to anyone at the CIA? Holly Barker, for instance. Maybe not about the kidnapping, but to mention I’d be in town?”

“Are you accusing me of being indiscreet?”

“No, Madam President, just human. The point is, someone knows I’m here, and they’ll be keeping tabs on me. I can ditch a shadow, but not long enough to investigate. I may have to get outside help.”

“You’d bring in Dino?”

“In a heartbeat, if I could think of a cover story. But I have someone better in mind.”

“Who?”

“That’s on a need-to-know basis. At this point, I think you need some plausible deniability.”

T
he woman slid into the driver’s seat of the Porsche 911 GT3 RS, started the engine, and switched on the lights.

A man rose up in the shadows of the backseat and held a straight razor to her throat. “Hello, Pamela,” he said.

“Cut,” cried Peter Barrington. “Good for camera? Good for sound? Print it, new setup, let’s come in for the close-up from the killer’s POV.”

Peter pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. It had vibrated during the take, and now it read
Missed Call
. He hit the callback button and stepped away from the street set where he was filming on the back lot of Centurion Studios.

“Hi, Dad. What’s up?”

“You got time to talk?”

“A little. We’re in between takes.”

“How’s the picture coming?”

“Couldn’t be better. The cast is great, and the dailies look fantastic. We’re getting plenty of coverage, and the editor has more footage than she needs. I wish they were all this easy.”

“Is your new producer working out?”

“Just fine. Not that I don’t miss Ben, but Billy’s a natural. We’re actually ahead of schedule.”

Dino’s son, Ben, had been producing Peter’s films ever since they graduated from Yale drama school, but recently he’d been elevated to the head of Centurion Studios, leaving Peter without a producer.

“Is Ben around?”

“He drops in now and then. He’s the head of the studio, he can make his own schedule.”

“So he could help you out if you needed anything?”

“I suppose so. What’s going on?”

“Do you think you could get along without Billy for a few days? I’ve got a sticky situation and could really use his help.”

“It’s important?”

“You wouldn’t believe.”

“Then take him.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be okay.”

“Great. I’ll give him a call.”

“Hang on, Dad. He’s on the set, I’ll get him for you.”

Billy Barnett was overseeing the camera move, which was going smoothly. Billy had a way of making things happen without seeming to push, a valuable asset for a movie producer.
Union men couldn’t be hurried, and didn’t take kindly to the suggestion they might be dogging it. But Billy had an easy rapport with the crew, and he was a big reason the film was coming in ahead of schedule.

Peter tapped Billy on the shoulder and crooked a finger.

Billy followed him away from the set. “What’s up? We got a problem?”

Peter shook his head, held up his cell phone. “You have a call.”

“Oh, really?” Billy took the phone. “Hello?”

“Hello, Billy,” Stone Barrington said. “Do you know who this is?”

“Yes.”

“What are you up to?”

“Shooting night scenes for Peter’s movie.”

“How’s it going?”

“Great. I’m really getting into this whole producer thing.”

“Glad to hear it. Think you could come to Washington, D.C., for a while?”

“Are you kidding?”

“No.”

“I’d rather be shot dead.”

“I understand. But I’m afraid it’s a matter of national importance.”

“Come on. You’re in Washington. Don’t they have that agency—what do they call it?—the CIA?”

“Sorry, I can’t use the CIA. I need you.”

“Aw, hell,” Billy said. “I’d have to check with Peter.”

“I did. It’s fine with him.”

“Then I guess I’ve got to go.”

“How quick can you get here?”

“It’s too late to catch the red-eye. I can get a flight tomorrow morning.”

“That won’t do. I need you here tomorrow morning. Can you fly Peter’s jet?”

“Sure, if he lets me borrow it.”

“Tell him I said so. You can’t fly commercial anyway, if you’re going to bring your stuff.”

“I gather I should come prepared for . . . certain eventualities?”

“Be prepared for anything.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Don’t come by the hotel. Can you make an eleven o’clock brunch?”

“What restaurant?”

Stone chose one within walking distance of his hotel.

“Okay. See you there.”

Billy gave the phone back to Peter and managed to herd him away from the set.

“Your dad wants me to borrow the Cessna.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Is that a problem?”

“I have a lesson, but I’m sure Tim can scare something up.”

Tim Peters was the pilot who managed the hangar and handled Peter Barrington’s flying lessons.

“If it doesn’t work, call your dad. This is his party.”

“No big deal.
I
’
ll
get along fine.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You still have to give Betsy the news.”

When Billy first met his wife she’d been working at a Las Vegas casino under the name of Charmaine. She’d changed her name to Betsy when they ran off to L.A., and they’d been married under the names of William and Elizabeth Barnett. Billy had gotten her a job as Peter’s assistant. She’d proven invaluable, and had been working for him ever since.

Billy found her conferring with the script supervisor.

Betsy saw him coming and smiled. “Hi, honey. I was just taking a look at those two lines you mentioned. It makes sense to cut them, but Peter will have to sign off on it.”

“I’m pretty sure he will,” Billy said. “They can always fix it in the mix, but if they shoot it they’ll have an awkward jump-cut to deal with. It’s so much easier just to leave it out.”

“Don’t worry. I’m on it.”

“Good.” Billy took a breath. “Honey?” he said hesitantly.

Betsy knew that tone of voice. She sighed. “Oh, hell.”