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As he stepped out of the shower, Ryan could hear Marc talking. From the tone of his voice, it was obvious that it was Casey at the other end of the phone. Marc was, no doubt, filling her in.
Ryan pulled on some sweats and headed out to the living room.
Marc glanced up. “Ryan’s here. I’ll put him on.” He handed Ryan the phone. “It’s Casey,” he informed him.
“I figured.” Ryan put the phone to his ear. “Hey, boss. I assume Marc woke you up to report in about our boring night.”
“He did—in detail,” she replied. “Sounds like you became an instant action figure.”
“Hey, you gotta do what you gotta do.”
Casey laughed. “It’s good to hear you’re still yourself. Arrogant and cocky. Thanks for making me laugh. I needed it.”
“Really?” Ryan perched on the edge of an armchair. “If I’m your best source of entertainment tonight, I’d say Hutch isn’t doing his job.”
“His job isn’t to make me laugh,” Casey returned drily. “So much for that subject. The reason I asked Marc to put you on the phone is to tell you that Amanda got a threatening call tonight. No caller ID. Voice scrambler. Warning her to stop looking for Paul Everett, and for us to stop looking, too. He knew too much about what she was doing at that minute not to have been right there in the hospital.”
“You want me to see if I can hack into her phone records?” Ryan jumped right on that. “Maybe I can get something.”
“Yes. Try.”
“Done.” Ryan was already walking over to his laptop, which was sitting on the coffee table. “Is Amanda really freaked out?” he asked as he logged into his secure network.
“Big-time,” Casey replied. “She wanted me to send Marc over for protection. I sent Patrick over instead.”
“Better qualifications. Better availability,” Ryan agreed.
“Not as pacifying, at least to Amanda. But, in this case, I got her to come around. Patrick’s the right choice. He took off for Sloane Kettering the minute I called him. He’s staying outside the PICU all night. He’s also made arrangements with two of his security buddies. They’re each taking an eight-hour shift a day. Between the three of them, Amanda will be covered 24/7 until this crisis is over.”
“Smart move.”
“I’m going over there myself first thing in the morning to check on her.”
“You mean in three hours?” Ryan asked, noting that his watch said 3:30 a.m.
Casey sighed. “Yes, in three hours. And, while I’m there, I’m going to ask her if I can bring Hutch on board. He can check the FBI’s internal systems and see if there are any warning flags on Paul Everett.”
“Good move. I doubt she’ll refuse. Hutch’s credentials are pretty impressive. Not to mention he’s at Quantico. That word alone infuses everyone with awe.” Ryan was clicking away on the keyboard as he spoke. “Get a few hours’ rest, boss. I’ll call you if I find anything. I’m not holding my breath. It was probably a throwaway phone. But, if I’m wrong, you’ll hear from me.”
* * *
Lisa Mercer knew that her father was back in D.C. She also knew that he jogged every morning at 5:30 a.m. So when she got back to her dorm at Northwestern at 4:00 a.m. CST—after cramming all night for finals—and listened to her voice mail, she called him right away.
“Hi, Lisa.” The congressman didn’t sound a bit surprised to hear from his daughter. It was still 2:30 a.m. in Pasadena, or Tom would be on the phone from Cal Tech, as well.
“What’s going on, Dad?” she asked without preamble. “I got your cryptic message. I also read about you and Mom getting tested as donors for that poor little baby, and I think that’s superamazing. But why were you calling me about it?”
Cliff Mercer pressed his lips together and sank down onto the bottom step leading into his front hall. He wished he could keep his lips just that way, so he didn’t have to open his mouth and dive into this can of worms. But it wasn’t an option. His career was on the line. All he could do was to try to keep this as simple and innocent as possible, in the hopes that his secret didn’t leak out—not even to his children. They weren’t all that close to his father—or rather, the man who’d raised him. But he was the only grandfather they knew. The only person he’d trusted with his secret was Mary Jane. And his wife was as determined as he was to protect it.
As for the rest of the world, if the truth came out, given how deep into Lyle Fenton’s pocket he was, his political aspirations would be over before they began.
“Dad?” Lisa repeated.
“Sorry, honey. I was just tying my sneakers. I didn’t mean to sound cryptic. It’s just that Amanda Gleason, the baby’s mother, is a photojournalist who’s done media coverage on both my campaign and ongoing events during my current term. She’s a real sweetheart. And the idea of her possibly losing her child… It’s unthinkable. That’s why Mom and I got tested. As a gesture of good faith, I’d like you and Tom to get tested, too. I’m not optimistic that any of us will be a match, but if it inspires others in the district to get tested, it’s worth it.”
“Knowing you, I’m going to assume this is a gesture of good faith, not a political ploy.”
“That’s exactly right. I’m not going to use a critically ill infant for political gain.”
