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They were fraternal twins, formed from two separate eggs, fertilized by two distinct sperm cells, which thankfully grew into two vastly different people. They neither looked nor acted alike. She acquired a love of history and an appreciation for conscientious study, while he favored politics and shortcuts. He ran a citizen’s action group known as the Committee to Save America, which boasted a membership that included nearly 60% of state legislators from around the country. Its primary agenda based on a demand, by two-thirds of the states, for a new Article V constitutional convention. So far thirty of the thirty-four states needed had made the official request of Congress. Four more and Congress then would have no choice but to call for a national convention to consider amendments to the Constitution. Through those efforts, Kenneth had acquired the ear of Lucius Vance and eventually introduced her to the Speaker of the House.
Which had led them to this moment.
“It was foolish to give Alex your notebook,” she said again.
A look of surprise invaded her brother’s face. “He told you about that?”
“Oh, yes. And why did you even write all that crap down? My God, you even had the cross and circle stamped on its cover.”
“I gave those notes to Alex to show him we weren’t crazy. That there’s a solid, legal basis to what we’re doing. I’ve researched it carefully, and I genuinely wanted his take on things. And who cares what’s on the cover? It’s meaningless to 99.99% of the people.”
“Alex actually did some research of his own,” she said. “And, as I would have suspected, he had major reservations. He told me in no uncertain terms that he would not be a part of what was about to happen.”
He shook his head. “I don’t believe you. That’s your whole problem. You think no one is as smart as you. You always underestimated Alex.”
As usual, her words seemed to wash over him without registering. She stepped back to the desk and found the cross-and-circle necklace returned by Danny Daniels. “Why did you give him this?”
Kenneth shrugged. “To make him feel included. He appreciated the gesture.”
“He played you. How much did you tell him?”
“Enough for him to know that what we’re doing isn’t original. It goes way back. People smarter than us came up with the idea.”
“You told him about the Order?”
“Of course. He was fascinated. How did you get that necklace?”
“How much did you tell him?”
“Enough for him to know that this might be the way to finally accomplish what he’d talked about for years. Change Congress, change the country.”
What an idiot.
“He was just learning all he could from you, saying what you wanted to hear. You really didn’t know Alex all that well, did you? He liked to make speeches, go on TV, and say how awful things were. But he never actually did anything about it. You never found that strange? It’s actually quite common in today’s world. People will talk about how terrible a McDonald’s hamburger tastes, but they keep buying them by the millions, over and over. Why? Because they’re safe. A sure bet. You know exactly what you’re getting. Good and bad. No surprises. It’s the same in politics. Men like Alex get reelected over and over because everyone knows what they’re getting. They’re safe. Mavericks rarely win elections and never get reelected. Alex would not have changed the government.” She paused. “Nor would you, I might add, if I had not come into the picture.”
He pointed an accusatory finger at her. “I’m the one connected to Vance. I’m the one who’s working with the state legislatures. Those petitions calling for a second constitutional convention are not appearing out of thin air. I make those happen. You’re the one who upped the ante in this game to include a change in Congress.”
True.
But why not take advantage of every opportunity.
All her life she’d heard stories about the Knights of the Golden Circle. Her master’s thesis had dealt with 19th-century clandestine organizations. Groups like the Brotherhood of the Union, the Freedom Societies, and the Circle of Honor. Advisers who read it called her work brilliant and urged her to publish it as a book, but she’d refused. Instead, for the past three years she’d been working quietly trying to implement a plan first conceived 170 years ago. Then the imbecile sitting before her, with whom regrettably she’d shared a womb for nine months, decided for once in his life to make a decision on his own.
She, too, had involved Alex once, but not to the extent Kenneth had chosen, and certainly not as obviously.
When the Smithsonian Institution was created in 1846, a seventeen-member board of regents was charged with its management. Presently that board was composed of three senators, appointed by the president pro tempore of the Senate, three House members, appointed by the Speaker of the House, and nine ordinary citizens. The chief justice and vice president of the United States acted as ex officio members, the chief justice being the institution’s chancellor. Alex had served as one of the regent senators for the past five years. Two years ago she’d used that connection and had him secure her an appointment onto one of the many Smithsonian advisory boards. The one that interested her worked with the libraries. She’d used her love of books and history to convince him to speak on her behalf, which he’d been more than happy to do. Nothing raised any alarms or concerns. Just a husband helping out his highly qualified wife.
And she’d used that position to maximum advantage.
Right now, it was working on two fronts.
One in Arkansas, the other in Washington, DC.
“I’m tired of arguing,” Kenneth said. “And it’s all moot now anyway. Alex is gone. But Vance will be by later. He called a little while ago and confirmed.”
“Make it late. After everyone has left. We don’t need any more containment problems.”
“We still have one big problem,” Kenneth said. “Running wild and loose.”
She knew who he meant.
The fourth person in their circle.
“He’s going into the Smithsonian tonight,” she told him. “Doing his job, I might add.”
Kenneth shook his head. “You say I’m a problem? Grant Breckinridge is a loose cannon. I’m not in that bastard’s league when it comes to trouble.”
She glared at her brother. “There are things that have to be done, most of which involve breaking laws. Are you prepared to take those risks? To make those things happen? Because if you are, Kenneth, I’ll get rid of Grant right now and turn it all over to you. But if you’re not, then shut your damn mouth and leave this to me.”
And she meant it.
They needed Grant, an intriguing combination of charm, promise, and assurance. Sharp as a swindler. His strength an asset, his confidence a sound counter to Kenneth’s whining and complaining. True, Grant had taken chances, and she was aware of what he was overseeing in Arkansas and about to do in DC, but as she’d just said, there were messy things that had to be done and somebody had to do them.
She stepped away, finished with the conversation. Her brother had a way of turning her stomach. Thankfully, Grant had gone into Alex’s apartment and retrieved the notebook along with some books. She’d known nothing about the necklace or that would have been located, too. Behind her desk, below the study’s windows, sat the two tote bags Grant had delivered.
She glanced that way and immediately noticed something wrong.
Lying atop one of
the bags for the past few days had been Kenneth’s notebook, the cross and circle visible on its leather cover.
But it was not there.
She glanced over at her poodle, sleeping in his bed. Perhaps he was the culprit? Or maybe it just had fallen inside the tote.
Kenneth stood from his chair. “I’ll call Vance and confirm a time. I’m going to rest a little while before he gets here.”
“You do that. And try not to screw any more things up.”
He ignored her insult and left.
Quickly, she checked the tote bags and found nothing but books. There’d been people in and out of here all day, but no one would have had any interest in that notebook.
Or would they?
She still held the cross and circle returned to her by Danny Daniels. His explanation of how he acquired the necklace had sounded plausible. She recalled Alex going over for a visit. Had they discussed more than Alex’s political future? Had Alex confided in Daniels? Or was it as Daniels had said, the necklace had simply been lost?
An uncomfortable paranoia swept through her.
Which she did not like.
She reached for the phone.
And called Grant.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Grant Breckinridge cared little about his surname, which harked back to the 19th century. John C. Breckinridge served as vice president of the United States under James Buchanan, the youngest man ever to hold that position, then ran for president in 1860, finishing second to Lincoln. When war broke out he sided with his native Kentucky and became a Confederate general, fighting at Shiloh, Stones River, and Chickamauga before taking command of Southern forces in the Shenandoah Valley. Late in the conflict he became the last Confederate secretary of war. After all was lost he fled abroad, eventually returning when Andrew Johnson granted universal clemency. Since childhood Grant had been told that he was related to that Breckinridge. But who the hell cared? He wasn’t one of those who longed for the antebellum South, lamenting over the unforgivable War of Northern Aggression. None of that mattered.
