Conscience (The Bellator Saga Book 2) (13 page)

“But I will,” she said. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. I know what they’ll do to you because of me.”

“Then talk.” The words sounded genuine, earnest even, but they didn’t match the vacant look in his eyes.

Caroline knew she could only do one thing to ease his pain, even if she was lying through her teeth. “I’ll think about it,” she said.

They heard a noise outside and the guards came back into the room. One of them pulled Bob up roughly, and Caroline winced. He really was frail. She tried not to think about what the last couple of months had been like for him.

“Your little meeting of the minds is over,” the guard said.

Bob tried to smile at him, working up what little energy he had left to charm his way through the exchange. “Might I give Ms. Gerard a proper goodbye? We’ve always been…close.”

“Whatever.” The guard shoved Bob toward her. “Make it quick.”

Despite her own lack of strength, Caroline caught him in her arms, pain searing through her broken ribs. Tears burned her eyes. He was practically a skeleton.

She looked back at the guards, who were giving them a good ten feet of distance and leering. They expected something inappropriate to happen. Bob leaned in to give her a hug, his weak arms wrapped loosely around her shoulders. Then, very casually, as if he was giving her an extra affectionate creepy old man hug, he kissed her cheek and buried his face in her hair. Despite his appearance his voice came out surprisingly strong.

“Keep your mouth shut, Caroline,” he whispered, so softly she could barely make out the words. “They’re going to kill both of us no matter what you do, and they aren’t going to stop trying to break you. Don’t betray the cause and for God’s sake, don’t worry about me. I’m proud of you, sunshine. Have courage. I’ll see you on the other side.”

He pulled away from her and kissed her lightly on the lips. “I’ve always wanted to tell you that.”

The guards separated them, slapping their cuffs on before either of them had time to react.

“I’m glad you two could share that moment,” the guard holding Caroline said sarcastically.

Bob lurched forward and patted Caroline’s face with a cuffed hand. “I have confidence you’ll help these gentlemen out, pumpkin. Deep down you’ve always been a true patriot.”

*              *              *              *              *

They dumped her in her cell, removing her handcuffs and shoving her inside. How nice of them. The lights in her cell were still on, which was weird. Maybe they’d forgotten about her. They hadn’t bothered cuffing her to her bed, either, but that might be part of their routine now, since they had very rarely done it after that first night. It didn’t matter much. She barely had enough energy to do much more than shuffle around. Fuck them.

And fuck herself, while she was at it. She felt like a fucking idiot. Bob dropped all those hints to her, and she didn’t pick up on any of them. Including the most important one. He may as well have held up a giant flashing red stop sign, and she still didn’t see it.

Caroline’s best friend from Marquette still lived in the Chicago suburbs. Or, she had. Caroline hoped she was in the UK with her extended family by now. But she had dug around, finding an underground group in Chicagoland. She told Caroline that if the rumors were true, it had been started by the spouse of a prominent politician. Who never met up with anyone, never saw anyone in person, just funneled money and other resources to the members who needed it. People who needed financial help because they lost their jobs. People trying to cross the border or get to Europe. People trying to infiltrate the federal government’s offices in Chicago.

It had been Adeline. Caroline was sure of it. Not because Caroline didn’t have faith in the other husbands and wives of the rest of the members of Congress from Illinois, but because of what she knew about Bob and Addie.

Had they come for Adeline like they’d come for her? Had they brought both she and her husband to this facility for the same purpose? To torture, to mindfuck, to kill? Caroline doubted she’d ever know for sure. And what had they done to Bob?

Not that it made any difference; he was lost without Addie. He was done. Caroline could tell by the look in his eyes. Thank God she hadn’t told him anything. She felt incredibly stupid. He had been warning her the entire time but she’d been too dehydrated and malnourished to notice.

It was too late now. She knew she’d never see him again. So she had to focus her energy on something else. The cell. She finally had a good opportunity to look around. To find potential weaknesses. To plot. Not that there was any way out of here; the guards were everywhere. But maybe they’d missed something.

And just what would she do if she found a way out? Bob might have been aggravating her with his words but she knew he was right. She was easily duped. Naïve, trusting, gullible. She’d been a coddled little princess, skipping through life while the rest of the world was crumbling. Caroline would have never, ever expected her own government to turn on her, and yet it had. Her idealism had failed her. All the trust and innocence in the world meant shit when it came time to face the demons of reality. She remained ill-equipped to handle this sort of treatment, and her captors damn well knew it.

She closed her eyes, trying to remember Bob the way he used to be. Robust, fully alive. Practically buoyant. She hesitated to call him jolly, for that conjured up images of men with white beards ringing bells at Christmas and posing for cute pictures with children. But he’d been that kind of man. Even his years as Speaker of the House hadn’t robbed him of his convivial nature. And this place had stripped it all away.

Fuck them.

She spent most of her free time cursing the guards, in her head. Cursing their parents too, for allowing them to be born. Wondering what they used to be, before they became turncoats. Were they all tenured government agents or employees? Or had they been recruited specifically for this purpose under new standards? Caroline hated to think that they had been civil servants for much longer than Santos had been in office; if they were long serving members of government, they’d turned on a dime the instant he ascended to power. A terrifying thought for anyone – that large numbers of people would start engaging in antisocial behavior just because they had license to do it, with no recourse if they went too far. She knew it was easy to become complacent, to take orders without reflecting upon them, but damn it. They should know better. They should all fucking know better.

Fuck them, indeed.

The Past

Caroline looked smashing if she said so herself, decked out in a plum skirt suit and lilac blouse. She sprinted as gracefully as possible down the hall from Jack’s office. The Republican Party of Pennsylvania must have planned ahead because he was in the space right next to Christine’s, with both offices jointly serving as the main GOP Headquarters in suburban Philadelphia.

Surprisingly, Marguerite and Sophie expressed a strong interest in doing all sorts of campaign activities that morning, which they hadn’t really been all that eager to do when Caroline was in election mode. But things had changed, they wanted to spend time with Jack, he wanted to spend time with them, and Caroline wasn’t going to argue about it. She left them to poke around with Jack and his campaign staffers while she checked out Christine’s digs.

Christine’s suite was slightly larger than Jack’s. Two doors in the back led to what Caroline assumed were smaller offices. The front room was empty except for Christine’s campaign manager Jeanine and two interns.

“If it isn’t America’s Political Sweetheart.” Jeanine strolled over as soon as she caught sight of Caroline. “I thought you might show up today.”

Some article writer at
Time
had referred to Caroline as America’s Political Sweetheart in a cover story shortly after the incident at the Capitol. A strange title, but hack journalists were always keen to reduce powerful and prominent women to cutesy phrases. Caroline had become something of a media darling and it was reflected in the recent puffy coverage she’d received. The magazine, willing to go to great lengths in their effort to drool all over her, obtained some pretty compelling pictures of Christine, Jack, and Caroline at the Visitors’ Center. They shelled out some cash to the tourist who’d taken them and ran them with the article. Caroline couldn’t bring herself to look at the images and probably never would. She thought the fawning and the fake flattery were all a bit much, but the name from the story had stuck.

A few bloggers had taken to calling Christine the Iron Lady. Christine acted upset by this but had always been a huge Maggie Thatcher devotee, and Caroline suspected her snippy response was mostly for show. She would have very much preferred something more whimsical for the two of them, like Electra Woman and Dyna Girl, since it came with a built-in theme song. But with the political wind at her back, Caroline wasn’t going to complain, even if the moniker was a bit cumbersome.

“My new nickname doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, does it?” she said.

“It fits you perfectly.” Jeanine gave her the once over. “Nice outfit.”

Caroline gave her a little bow. “I like to describe it as ‘devastatingly bipartisan.’”

“Nice press conference, too.”

Jack announced his intent to enter the gubernatorial race in the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania earlier that morning, even though most insiders had suspected it for weeks. September had come quickly. Time to kick the next election cycle into gear. Caroline wanted to make it official before he changed his mind. The state GOP wanted to move forward as well. Jack would be unopposed in the primary unless a non-establishment candidate threw his hat into the ring before the following spring.

Caroline and her daughters stood on stage behind Jack in an auditorium at the Wharton School, not saying a word, gazing adoringly at him as he gave his speech. They’d practiced their faces in the mirror beforehand. It had been highly amusing.

“It was one of my best performances,” Caroline said. “I know Republicans generally appreciate it when I stay quiet and well-mannered.”

Jeanine grinned slyly. “It was pretty funny when you burst out laughing after that idiot sleaze reporter asked Jack if you two were getting married so soon because he’d gotten you knocked up.”

She wasn’t kidding. That was almost a direct quote. “I’m very proud that Jack managed to give such a diplomatic answer,” Caroline said.

As soon as the question came out of the jerk’s mouth, she and Marguerite cracked up. It had taken them a long time before their giggles subsided. Sophie remained clueless. Jack came very close to losing his temper when he responded, but still worked in a nice quip about wanting to get all his new dependents lined up before the end of the year.

“I thought he did wonderfully,” Jeanine said. “It was a good speech. You’re
not
pregnant, are you? Not that it’s even my place to ask.”

Caroline liked Jeanine, even though she was neurotic. It would be fun to tease her with a non-answer. “I think having two little people running around with half my DNA is enough, don’t you?”

“How’s your arm feeling?

She shrugged her shoulders reflexively and grimaced. Sometimes it hurt when she did that. “It still stings a little. But with some rehab and weight training I should be fine.”

Jeanine sneaked a glance at Caroline’s left hand, still somewhat buried in the sling. “So, let’s see the rock.”

A very popular request lately. Caroline held out her hand the best she could as Jeanine held it gently and examined it.

Satisfied, she squeezed Caroline’s hand and released it. “He did well.”

“I guess so.” Caroline still thought it was too big but she wasn’t one to complain about free stuff. “Once this sling is off I’m considering going down to the harbor and catching it in the light to see if I can get any ships to change direction.” She put her good arm around Jeanine. “Where’s the Iron Lady?”

“The Congresswoman should be in shortly. We’re going over some numbers later today.”

“Great.” She turned to the interns at the far table. “And who might these bright young conservatives be?”

Jeanine laughed. “This is Veronica from Temple and Frank from LaSalle.”

Caroline walked over and shook their hands. “I’m Caroline,” she said, though it was obvious they recognized her. They appeared daunted by her presence, so she decided to be as warm and friendly as possible. “You kids are doing a bang up job at whatever it is you’re doing.” Despite the general messiness and stacks of papers, she couldn’t tell exactly what that was.

Frank and Veronica half smiled and resumed working.

“We haven’t had a chance to do much aside from some fundraising and mail drives,” Jeanine said. “We’ll kick it up soon enough.”

“Chrissy’s not going full force yet?”  The nickname slipped out before Caroline could help it, and she saw Veronica cover her mouth, trying not to laugh. Caroline would have to be more careful in less private arenas. Christine had a reputation to uphold.

Jeanine smiled slightly. “No. Representative Sullivan is taking a low key approach for now.”

So Jeanine hadn’t yet achieved first name status. Sometimes Caroline wondered if Christine knew the effect she had on people. She erroneously assumed that the publicity the two of them and their friendship received after the shooting might have changed how people perceived her. Or the way Christine herself behaved. But Caroline elected to adhere to their office protocol, for now.

“Does Representative Sullivan have an office in here?” she asked.

Jeanine pointed to the door on the left, which was shut. “That one.”

“I bet she has chocolate hidden somewhere in there.” Caroline hadn’t eaten breakfast and her stomach had been growling nonstop. Candy was as good as cereal in her mind. “Come on. I want to have a chat before she gets here.”

“Okay.”

Jeanine sounded apprehensive, which meant she either didn’t want to talk to Caroline or she was terrified of going into Christine’s office when she wasn’t there. Caroline knew Jeanine had been brought on board for more than one reason. Christine was running for a nationally significant position and many GOP operatives were getting a little sick of putting up with Representative Sullivan’s mood swings. Jeanine had a reputation for dealing well with both.

The tidbit about Chrissy’s moodiness had come from Tom, so there may have been some inherent bias or perhaps even a hint of sarcasm in his observations, even if they were ultimately accurate. Christine was consistently rated one of the most difficult legislators to work for. She also made
The Hill’
s 50 Most Beautiful, year after year. Caroline teased her incessantly about both lists.

She turned to the interns. “You guys want to hang out with us for a little while? We can talk all about the latest articles I read in
The American Conservative
.”

It took a minute before one of them spoke up. “Representative Sullivan doesn’t want us in there,” Frank said.

Of course she didn’t. Caroline determined it was safe to be a little sassy. “What about you, Jeanine? Do you get to use Representative Sullivan’s office?”

Jeanine gave her an apprehensive smile. “What do you think?”

“Whatever. She’ll have to deal with it. And I want candy.” Caroline ignored the somewhat petrified looks she received from the interns as she opened the door and strutted inside. The room was impossibly neat. Caroline was tempted to mess things up a little, but she wasn’t a complete ass. She had an entire campaign cycle to rearrange things when Christine’s back was turned. She rummaged around in the desk drawers until she found what she was looking for.

“Ghirardelli,” she said, pulling out a large bag and staring at the label. “Assorted squares. Perfect.”

She and Jeanine sat down on the couch, with Caroline slowly unwrapping a sea salt caramel and dark chocolate square. Christine’s favorite flavor. Caroline resolved that she would try to eat every caramel square in the bag before Christine arrived.

She recognized her rudeness, but her stomach was gnawing on itself. Hopefully she wouldn’t chew with her mouth open. Caroline held the bag up. “Want one?”

Jeanine shook her head no.

Her loss. “I want to hear your opinion on something.”

“Sure,” Jeanine said carefully. “I hope it’s not on some divisive social issue on which you and I are bound to disagree.”

She wasn’t going to beat around the bush. What was the point? “I’d like to endorse Christine.”

Jeanine coughed her surprise. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Have you asked her about this?”

“I thought I’d talk to you first. I think she’s more inclined to say yes if you’re on board.” Caroline paused. “She’s still upset about what happened at the Capitol.”

“I can tell,” said Jeanine. “Even though she doesn’t talk about it. And lately she’s been much more unapproachable than usual. She’s scaring all the interns away. I’m only half kidding.”

“How is she polling?”

“Pretty well. Better than I expected. Her approval ratings have gone up since July.”

“So have mine. I don’t get it.”

Jack’s campaign manager ran some numbers on Caroline to see what people thought of her. Her approval rating was astronomically high in Pennsylvania, a state in which she had never set foot for more than a week at a time. It was even higher than her rating in her home district, where she had always polled extremely well. Caroline couldn’t explain that anomaly but Greg seemed quite pleased with the results.

Jeanine looked at her as if she were quite peculiar. “If you can’t figure out why both of you have seen your approval ratings rise, I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Would it benefit Christine if I endorsed her? Campaigned with her?” Caroline helped herself to another caramel and dark chocolate square. “I’ll be doing a ton of appearances with Jack and figured it wouldn’t hurt to offer the same thing to her.”

“No, it wouldn’t hurt. It might be a good way to generate buzz about events.” Jeanine gave her the look again. “First you voted for Speaker Allen. Now this. And you’re marrying a Republican. Are you switching parties?”

“I didn’t hit my head, Jeanine. I got shot in the arm.”

“Very funny.” Jeanine clasped her hands together. “This is
so
outside the box. I like this idea. I like it a lot.”

“Do you think Chrissy will?” A single caramel square sat among the remaining chocolates, and Caroline decided she could afford to have one more piece.

“She might need some convincing, but we can make it work. I know she’d enjoy spending time with you on the campaign trail.”

Caroline heard an authoritative female voice in the distance and seconds later Christine marched into the room. Without a word, Jeanine made a very graceful exit, getting up off the couch and sneaking through the door behind her. Very subtle.

“Is that my chocolate you’re eating?” Christine demanded.

Caroline shook her head no, since her mouth was full. She tossed a piece in Christine’s direction and, miraculously, she caught it. Christine wasn’t all that athletic except for an occasional doubles tennis match.

“Mine now,” Caroline said, her voice still slightly muffled.

Christine walked over and sat down next to Caroline on the couch, kissing her on the cheek. “You think you can get away with everything, don’t you? At some point I’m going to stop giving you so much leeway.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Give me that.” Christine grabbed the bag off Caroline’s lap.

Caroline reached in to snag a final piece. Milk chocolate. That would do. She started to unwrap it but for some reason it was being quite stubborn. Yet another reminder that there were a lot of things that weren’t easy to do with one and a half hands. Christine took the chocolate square from Caroline, removed it from its wrapper, and handed it to her.