The Devlin Deception: Book One of The Devlin Quatrology (24 page)

Eight minutes later, he was back in the water, with noodles, bag,
book and a newly-lit cigarette, rotating 360 degrees occasionally.

Forty minutes later, he had walked in chest-deep water north to the
volleyball net and back, then south an equal distance from his lounge
and back, all in chest-deep water, negotiating pathways around other
people in the water, reading and occasionally chatting with both
strangers and people he knew, spreading the link to his web site to
the ones that seemed to have above-average intelligence, including a
few of the Beach Potatoes, some of the Barefoot Beach Babes, none of
the Hat Squad, and one tourist named John who said he worked for the
United Nations and wondered whether Donne would keep the US in the
UN. (The Incontinentals never went in the water, nor did the Beach
Balls.)

A few minutes past eleven, a gentle female voice behind him said,
“Good book?”

“Can't put it – oh, hey, Pam.” Then he swiveled to
face her. She was chest-deep in the water, floating on a bright blue
noodle, wearing a shiny black bikini top with a golden ring in the
cleavage; it was a bit less revealing than the one she'd had on two
months before, but still eye-catching. Her hair was back in a
ponytail and her sunglasses had some gold filigree on the frame. Her
face hadn't changed at all, still natural and stunning.

“So you recognize my voice after a month? Cool.”

“Pizza cake; it's hard to forget. When did you get in?”

“Last night. Hope you're okay with the surprise.”

“Pam, with you, EVERYTHING is a surprise. But delightful; it's
always nice to see you.”

“Thanks; that's a relief. Looks like you got the stitches
out.”

“Yup, a couple weeks ago; gonna have some scars, though. So
how've you been? Two weeks of retirement treating you okay?”

“Your memory's getting better. And yup, it's been good so far,
but it's tough going from being so busy to having zero
responsibility. I'm still waking up at five in the morning.”

“That should ease up after a week or two. At least, that's
what happened to me when I retired. And I'd bet that you'll be
sleeping in till seven or eight pretty soon if you want to. I mean,
you're like 15 years younger than me, so I'll bet you'll adapt
quicklier than I did.”

“Quicklier?”

“Gets the idea across, doesn't it?”

“Yeah, I guess it does. Hmm. I like it.” She chuckled.

“I think just staying in the condo for a while will help,”
she said, pointing across the beach. “A lot quieter than my
place in DC.”

Jake looked where she was pointing.

“You're staying over there? Which building?”

“The middle one.”

“Really? Which floor?”

“Seventh, this side. Great view. Small, but just fine for
one.”

“Yeah, I've seen 'em. Very comfy, especially with the
upgrades.”

“And I've got it for free, till the end of October, if I want.”

“Really? Nice. How'd you work that?”

“Belongs to a college roommate and her husband, but they won't
be down till November, and they don't like to rent it out.”

“So how long are you planning to stay?”

“I don't know yet. This seems like a great place to relax and
unwind, and I do love the beach; I had no idea what I was missing.
So I guess I owe you a big thank you.”

“Me? Why me?”

“If I hadn't been sent to investigate you, I'd just be doing
what I'd been doing, investigating other threats or counterfeiting or
something in Idaho or Ohio or somewhere, never woulda seen this place
and thought more seriously about retiring.”

Jake thought about that for a second, then said, “Okay. You're
welcome, I guess. Oh, and you're welcome; always nice to see you.”

“Thanks. Nice to be seen.”

Jake laughed. “Oh, before I forget, Joe got his check for the
reward and said if I saw you before he did, to give you a big thanks
from him.”

“I'm glad it got there; I tried to expedite it. Sometimes it
can take up to six months, but this was a small one.”

“Twenty-five K is small?”

“As rewards go, yes.”

“Wow.

“And I heard that you replaced the jet ski that one of your
guys killed.”

“Yeah, pretty much as soon as we heard that one of our bullets
hit it. And we got some psych help for the kid who was riding it.”

“So anything new with your ex-boss?”

“Raunchy Randy? He's still on suspension, I guess. Haven't
heard anything about him or from him. How about you? Anything?”

“Not really; been kinda quiet since that day at the Shack.”

“No more manatee porn?”

“Nope; they swim by here a few times a week, but no mating.”

“You still calling 'em?”

“Yup, every morning when I get here; dolphins, too. They come
by more often than the big guys.”

“Really?”

“Yup, almost quotidian; probably see some today.”

“Cool. So how's the book coming?”

“Slowly, but new ideas come up every day; like there was one
guy I talked with maybe half an hour ago who said he worked for the
UN and wondered whether I'd keep the US in the UN. Something a little
hinky about him; I'm not sure. But I started the conversation, not
him. So maybe that was just a coinkydink.”

“A what?”

“Oh, sorry; coinkydink, like coincidence, but a bit less
random.”

Pam laughed. “Are you making up a lot of words for the book?”

Jake chuckled. “You got me. Sometimes I do. But I don't
think I made that one up. Heard it somewhere.”

“So how's the book coming? Still on target for December?”

“So far, so good. Kinda stuck on how he might fix Medicare and
the whole health care thing. And a lot of other stuff, too. But
I've got a rough timeline for him, and a lot of assassination plots
and a few subplots outlined.”

“Cool.”

“And now that you're retired, maybe you can start telling me
some stories from the inside.”

“Maybe I can, but not right now, okay? I want to just relax
for a while.”

“Sure, no problem. No pressure, no stress. Me be very
patient.”

Pam adjusted her noodle so that it was under her arms and around her
back, let her feet float up, closed her eyes and sighed. “Oh,
this is heaven.”

“Well, maybe the waiting room.”

Jake noticed that her black bikini bottom was also less revealing
than the near-thong she'd had before, but still skimpy, and had a
large golden ring on each side.

Pam murmured, “You get to do this every day?”

Jake nodded. “Unless it's snowing.” Pam chuckled.

“Maybe I could get used to this ... quicklier than I thought.”

Jake laughed. “Oh, I'm sure you could. You're a quick study.”

Pam smiled and slipped into a deep Southern accent, “Why, thank
you, suh. Ah do 'preciate the compliment.”

Jake said, “It's well deserved. Oh, do you know the difference
between a fairy tale in the North and one in the South?”

Pam thought for a moment and then said, “Why, no, suh, ah
don't.”

“In the North, it begins with 'Once upon a time'; in the South,
it's 'Y'all ain't gonna bleeve this shit.'”

Pam laughed, a deep belly laugh, and her taut stomach rippled, which,
naturally enough, pulled Jake's attention away from her face.

“Oh, god, I love that one.”

“You can just call me Jake.”

Pam laughed even harder.

“Just don't call me Stevie Bruce.”

At that, Pam was totally gone. She lowered her feet to the sandy
bottom, brought her hands up to her mouth and alternately cackled and
snorted. Jake, of course, got caught up and started laughing along.

Half a minute later, a harsh nasal voice intruded. “What's so
funny?” Jake and Pam both swiveled in the water to see who it
was.

“Inside joke, Sonya. Private conversation,” Jake said.

“Oh. So, Jake, have you thought about --”

“Private conversation, Sonya.”

“But I --”

“Private conversation,” Jake said, a little more sharply.

“But --”

“What part of 'private' don't you understand, Sonya? Go.”

“All right, all right.” Sonya glared at Jake as she
moved away.

Pam finally controlled herself and said, “What was that about?”

“That's Sonya, the Blabberator of the Beach. If you let her
get started, she'll talk your ears off. She's very bright, but she
can go on and on on the same subject beyond anyone's ability to
listen.”

Jake moved closer to Pam, adding, “And she has some vision
problems, so she gets much closer to people than they like, to the
point that they get really uncomfortable.”

Pam stayed where she was and let Jake get very close. “You
mean she invades people's personal space?”

“You got it.”

“Like you're doing with me right now?” Pam said,
smiling.

“Yup. And like you did with Sergeant … oh, what was his
name again?”

“Oh, right. Umm ... Dooley? Yeah, that was it, Dooley.”

“Thomas. Poor guy. I don't think he ever knew what hit him.”

Jake backed away from Pam. “You sure showed some … uh,
guts.”

“I had a badge then, Jake, and some Marines.”

“Well, I was impressed. Still am. And dealing with those
fugitives at the Seafood Shack. You really are a Renaissance woman.”

“That's the second time you've called me that, Jake.”
She took a deep breath and said, “My husband used to say the
same thing when he was still alive.”

“Well, then there's two of us who think alike.”

Pam was quiet for a moment and then said pensively, almost silently,
“You have more than just that in common.”

“I'm sorry? What?” Jake said.

Pam blushed. “Just thinking out loud; sorry. Never mind.”

After a pause, with her eyes still closed, Pam said, “I read
that book you're reading, a few years ago. Quite a conspiracy
theory.”

“Yup, if he's got his facts right.”

“Most of them, he does.”

“Really?”

“Yup.” She took a deep breath and dropped her feet to the
bottom. “Well, I'm ready for a little sun time.”

“Me, too.” Jake looked at the fingertips on his
non-book-holding hand. “Looks like the botox is wearing off.”
Pam chuckled and they headed to shore.

-43-

Monday, December 19, 2011

1:30 p.m.

The White House

Washington, DC

Emily escorted the Surgeon General, Adam Corville, MD, and the new
Secretary of Health and Human Services, Georgianne “Gigi”
Maitlin, into the Oval Office, smiled at Donne, revealing a small bit
of parsley stuck between her front teeth, turned around and left.

“Thanks for coming on such short notice, Doc.

“Gigi, how are you settling in?”

“Pretty well, Gordy. Kathy has been mostly very gracious and
helpful with the transition, and she'll be staying on till the end of
the month to consult.”

“Good, good. No problems with her politics?”

“Well, a few philosophical differences, but she seems to be
trying to keep them out of the mix. I can handle it.”

“Good, good. If you need any help with that, just let me know,
okay?”

“Will do, Gordy.”

“Doc, I trust you're doing okay, as well?”

“It's an honor that you chose to keep me on, Mr. Donne.”

“You've done a good job, Adam, and feel free to call me Gordy.”

“Okay ... Gordy.”

“Good. Now, you both know I'm unveiling the Medicare plan
tonight, give folks a year's notice on how that's going to change and
the new choices they'll all have. You've both looked it over, I
trust, and I'm wondering if you have any questions or input.”

Gigi said, “Nothing major from me, Gordy. It's about the way
we planned it back at DEI, so I'm clear on it and totally on board.”

“Doc?”

“Well, si- – Gordy, I'm generally okay with it all, but I
think we need to do more than offer discounts to people who don't
smoke and aren't overweight. They need more sticks than carrots, I
think. And I thought the bans on indoor and outdoor smoking were
good ideas. We've got to put more stringent restrictions on that
wherever we can, some more serious behavioral controls, not remove
them.”

“Well, Doc, I realize that's been the way this past
administration and the one before it … well, going a long way
back, all of them … have tried to deal with things, but that
whole philosophy is out, gone, dead and buried.

“Now, you and your staff can make all the recommendations you
want on how to persuade people to quit smoking and eat more healthily
… god, that's an awkward phrase … eat healthilier …
yeah, I like that better ... and lose weight, but it's got to be
through persuasion, not mandates. I am absolutely planning to
totally dismantle the nanny state, one mandate at a time, or faster,
and if people on the staff can't get with that program in a
reasonable amount of time, I'll be looking to replace them, like
Kathy over at HHS or all the czars that Obama had.

“Spirited debates? Fine, love 'em. Intransigent ideological
heads in the sand and loud voices farting talking points out their
butts? Nope, sorry, not gonna fly.

“So more carrots and fewer sticks … generally, okay?
That's the way to channel our efforts.”

“What about the warning labels on cigarettes?”

“No problem with those, if they're informative and realistic,
not those graphic images you guys tried to mandate. See the diff?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Now, part of it is just semantics. People get discounts for
NOT doing something, not penalties FOR doing something, like with the
smoking or with over-eating. That's worked for me for over twenty
years at DEI and in all the businesses we resurrected and turned
around, so there's a track record there.

“Now, that doesn't apply in everything. Like you may have
taken what I said about replacing people as a threat or a penalty,
and in a way you're right to take it that way. But I would rather
persuade people to stay on the ship and help steer it in the right
direction than make them walk the plank. However, there always IS a
plank.”