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exander smiled, the storm apparently over. “Let me give you a piece of advice, Mitch. You should tell me to go fuck myself. Then we can forget this conversation ever happened and talk about the Redskins’ chances this season.”
* * *
When Rapp exited the building, he discovered that Claudia’s car was gone. The White House wasn’t exactly a high-crime area and that could mean only one thing.
His suspicions were confirmed when a Lincoln Navigator glided up in front of him. He opened the back door and slid inside.
“You’re up early, Irene.”
As always, she looked impeccable—gray suit, dark hair pulled back, and shoes meticulously polished. “I couldn’t sleep.”
The silence stretched out between them as they pulled onto a quiet Pennsylvania Avenue. Finally, she broke it.
“The president’s angry about bin Musaid and the Saudi government.”
“Really?”
“The subject didn’t come up?”
Rapp shook his head. “He just wanted my thoughts on the White House football pool.”
It was a statement that would make the discussion he’d just had completely clear without making her complicit.
“Alexander’s a good man. I’ve been lucky in my career. We both have. We’ve worked for smart, reasonable administrations.”
“Yeah.”
“But he’s still a politician.”
“You’re not telling me anything I don’t know, Irene.”
“He won’t just turn his back on you,” she continued. “Neutrality won’t play well on the international stage. He’ll do everything in his power to track you down. And capturing you won’t be the goal. America can’t risk you being questioned.”
“Uh-huh.”
She looked out the window, watching the buildings pass by for a few moments. “I understand that things are going well with Claudia.”
He wasn’t sure what she meant by that. Could she know? The woman had an intuition that inspired confidence when it was working for you but was infuriating when it was turned against you. He remained silent.
“You have the beginnings of a good life, Mitch. And while I’m not here to suggest that you slow down, I’d recommend that you avoid running off any cliffs. Just for a while, until you figure out what you want for yourself and for the people around you.”
“Then tell me he’s wrong, Irene. Tell me that I’m wrong. I’ve always listened to you.”
She just kept looking out the window. Finally, Rapp saw Claudia’s Q5 parallel parked at the edge of the street. The driver stopped beside it and, in an unusual gesture, Kennedy held out a hand to Rapp. “Whatever you decide, Mitch, good luck with it.”
* * *
By the time Rapp pulled up in front of his house, the sun had cleared the horizon. He hadn’t driven directly home, taking the long way to give himself time to think. What conclusions he’d come to, though, he wasn’t sure.
Anna met him in the entry, still wearing her pajamas and rubbing at her eyes. “Did you get me my oatmeal?”
He held up a grocery bag. “Go get ready for school. I’ll make it for you.”
“No,” she protested. “Let Mom do it.”
“Fine. But put it in gear. You’re going to be late.”
