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“Then I won’t keep you in suspense any longer.”
He led her into a lovely, tastefully furnished parlor. A cheery fire was burning in the marble fireplace. Vanessa, wearing a ruffled dressing gown and looking like the frail heroine of a Victorian novel, reclined on a divan. She was still attached to an IV.
Standing before the fire, one arm propped on the mantel, was the President of the United States.
No one had suggested that he would be here. There’d been no waiting motorcade or entourage outside the house. The only Secret Service agents in sight were the two who’d been in the entry when she came in, and she had supposed they were guarding Vanessa. She tried to mask her trepidation.
“Hello, Miss Travis.”
She unglued her tongue from the roof of her mouth and said, “Good evening, Mr. President.” She could barely hear her own words over the drumming of her heart.
“Hello, Barrie.”
Barrie looked down at Vanessa. “Mrs. Merritt.”
She smiled. “After all we’ve been through together, I think you should call me Vanessa.”
“Thank you.” Taking the chair the senator indicated, Barrie faced the three of them like a witness on the stand—or a condemned woman facing a firing squad.
“You appear to be feeling much better than you were the last time I saw you,” she said to Vanessa.
“I am much better. How’s Gray?”
Barrie shot a glance toward Merritt, but his expression didn’t change. “He’s shocked by what happened to Spencer Martin last night.”
“As we all are,” Armbruster said with insincere sorrow.
“Gray sends his regards,” Barrie said to Vanessa.
“I can’t thank the two of you enough for taking me out of Tabor House. Under George’s care, I would have died there.”
Barrie felt like thumping her temple with the heel of her hand. What was this, Wonderland? Was she Alice, who’d just tumbled through her mirror into an otherworldly tableau? Since stepping across Senator Armbruster’s threshold, nothing had been as she’d expected it. For all the sense it made, their dialogue could have been gibberish. Surely Vanessa didn’t believe that George Allan, acting singly, had devised to kill her.
Barrie saw no alternative but to go along with this bizarre script and see where it led. “Thank you for clearing up the matter of the kidnapping.”
“It was a mix-up that needed straightening out.”
As simply as that, Vanessa dismissed it. The senator interrupted an awkward silence by offering Barrie a drink. “What can I get you?”
“Nothing, thanks. What I’d really like is to get down to business. Why’d you invite me here?”
“We—the three of us—felt that we owed you this courtesy, Miss Travis.” The senator was apparently the mouthpiece for the proceedings. Since greeting her, Merritt had said nothing, but she was constantly and uneasily aware of his baleful gaze.
“As I said earlier,” Armbruster continued, “we want to clear up this unfortunate misunderstanding, lay it to rest. Because of all the ill will felt by both sides, we’re offering you an olive branch in the form of an exclusive story.”
“What story?”
Armbruster looked at David, who glanced down at Vanessa, then at Barrie. “Vanessa and I are getting a divorce.”
Barrie was too stunned to speak, but she didn’t have to. He went on to explain. “Dalton Neely will make a statement to the media tomorrow at noon, although he doesn’t know it yet. He’ll read this letter from me to the American people. I’m giving you an advance copy.” He removed an envelope from the breast pocket of his suit jacket and handed it to Barrie.
“May I read it now?”
He nodded. She opened the envelope and took out two sheets of stationery bearing the presidential seal. After a sugary salutation, she reached the body of the letter and began to read aloud.
“ ‘The death of our son took a terrible toll on Mrs. Merritt and myself. The demands of this office also have contributed largely to her unhappiness. Neither of us blames the other for the dissolution of the marriage. We accept our individual blame for its breakdown, although I must assume the larger share of responsibility. Countless times, being president superseded being an attentive husband.
“ ‘Vanessa is an incredibly unselfish woman. None other would have endured as much as she has for as long as she has. I have nothing but deep admiration and affection for Vanessa Armbruster Merritt.’ ”
