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“They texted me today.”
He closes his eyes, then runs a hand over the back of his neck, tension bleeding off him. “Of course they did. What’d they say?”
“‘Don’t play if you can’t win’,” I recite, the words like burrs on my tongue.
“Assholes. That’s just a taunt.”
“And a promise.”
“A promise of what?”
“That they’ll follow through. I have to talk to Lindsay. I think I know what’s about to happen next and I need to warn her.”
“Care to share with her head of security? Not that you’re exactly forthcoming with important information.” He is pissed. The double meaning is clear.
He knows. He knows about that video.
I don’t care, actually.
Part of the truth is all he needs.
I ignore the barb. Can’t deal with it. “They’re going to invent some charitable cause for her. She’ll be sent to work with the homeless in Haiti, or with a literacy program in Appalachia, or to restore hurricane damage in Guatemala. Whatever the story, it’ll be designed to get her out of the limelight and for all the attention to die down.” I say this with impatience, and Mark crosses his arms over his chest like he has all the time in the world.
He knows I’m in a rush.
“You’re the focus of attention on the news so far, Drew. Not her. And her attackers are tormenting you now, too. Exposing you.”
Ignore ignore ignore.
“But it taints Harry by default.” I barrel on. “The media’s being nice to her today, but give it two or three more days and the worm will turn. And getting her out of sight means she’ll have less security. Any company other than mine that handles her security can be compromised. Probably already has.”
“You think Blaine, John and Stellan have that much power?”
“Not them, no. But the puppetmaster behind them? Yes. We need to figure out who’s controlling them. That should be the number one mission, aside from protecting Lindsay. Harry’s too wrapped up in his campaign and getting bad advice to realize it.”
Mark looks at the house, the moonlight bouncing off the gentle waves, illuminating the windows facing the ocean. He’s a man with two opposing duties. Loyalty to me. A promise to Harry.
Which one does he break?
Mark’s phone goes off. He looks at a text.
“Lindsay’s insisting on being driven to her friend Jane’s house in two hours.” His fingers fly on the glass screen, then he taps with finality and catches my eye. “Don’t even think about following her.”
Two hours. I have two hours, then.
“You’re not my commanding officer, Paulson.”
“And I’m not your employee anymore, Foster.”
“We’re at a standoff, then. And you know how standoffs work. Motivation always wins.”
“Motivation often kills, too.”
“I need to talk to her, Mark. She’s at risk. ” Appealing to reason generally works with him.
He’s on his phone again, his face screwed up into an intense grimace. “You can’t get caught. Lindsay isn’t just a senator’s daughter now. She’s about to be under Secret Service protection as a presidential candidate’s family member. You know the difference.”
“Which is why I have to talk to her now.”
