Conscience (The Bellator Saga Book 2) (37 page)

The Past

Caroline and Jack sat in the formal living room in their home in suburban Philadelphia. It was shortly after the New Year. They didn’t come home much anymore, which was unusual, since they were arguably safer there than anywhere else. They had even debated whether it was still a good idea for them to stay at their home in Rockville or the Georgetown brownstone whenever they were in D.C., and settled on keeping away from the capital, for now.

Caroline sometimes thought they were being exceedingly paranoid, though she knew better. There were a few members of Congress speaking out, some officials in individual states, but most politicians had been quiet. Maybe they’d been bought off or threatened, or maybe they just didn’t care. Not all were silent. Some tried to mobilize, tried to work within social networks and media outlets, but none had the sway necessary to really make an impact.

Except for Jack and Caroline, who had burned many bridges while speaking out about their opposition to the president’s agenda. The crushing force of the pressure they were feeling from outside was overwhelming. Both political friends and enemies were making it increasingly clear that their efforts were unwanted and unnecessary.

Santos hadn’t done anything too radical. Not yet. But each tiny change, each improbably phrased executive order had the opposite of a ripple effect. Members of the public were so jaded that they weren’t even paying attention anymore, especially if they had yet to personally feel any impact.

Caroline twiddled her thumbs nervously, waiting for Christine. They hadn’t seen each other much as of late; Christine tried to tread lightly in the Senate and Caroline did her best to travel less. Jack and Caroline had gone to the Sullivans’ annual New Year’s party, but they both ended up getting so drunk that Christine barely acknowledged them. She didn’t even bother saying good night when their driver took them home. Caroline couldn’t remember much of the party beyond that. But that was her goal.

Their friendship was noticeably strained although neither one of them had the audacity to admit it or provoke the other. It upset Caroline and she suspected that Christine felt the same way. But Caroline knew that even under the most laborious of circumstances, Chrissy was always worthy of her trust.

Caroline heard the doorbell ring. They changed their gate code every time they came home, but she’d given Christine the new one earlier in the day. Their security knew that Senator Sullivan could come and go on the property without question.

“I’ll get it,” Jack said. He knew enough to make himself scarce once Christine was inside.

As Caroline expected, Christine entered the living room alone.

“Hello, Caroline.” She was distant, formal. Christine used that tone frequently, but she only did it with those close to her when she really didn’t want to have to deal with them. It drove Caroline nuts.

“Hi,” Caroline said. “Thank you for coming over.”

Christine’s voice was terse. “I had some time this afternoon. What do you want?” She sat down on the couch and started staring at a freshly manicured hand.

Caroline wasn’t about to put up with being blown off. “Excuse me?”

“I apologize. I meant to say, what can I do for you?” Christine used a much more polite phrasing but her tone was sharp.

Caroline resisted the urge to swear at her. “You think I invited you here because I want something?”

“Did you intend for us to bake cookies and talk about boys?”

Holy Christ, was Christine in a mood. Caroline didn’t care if it was a defense mechanism or passive-aggressive bullshit; it infuriated her. She clenched her fists reflexively. “Is this how it’s going to be?”

Christine would never admit it, but she hated confrontation even more than Caroline did. Her mood changed instantly. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I presumed this wasn’t a social call.”

Caroline watched as Christine folded her hands into her lap. “Well, to be honest, it’s not purely social. Although I would much prefer if it was. And I hate when you’re right,” she added.

Christine’s voice relaxed. “What is it?”

“Did Susannah and her husband get off to France all right?”

“Yes, thank God,” Christine said. “I was surprised she had the pull, but once she got the firm to agree to move her to Paris, she jumped on it. Smart girl.”

“And you said fluency in French was a pointless skill.”

“I guess I was wrong.”

Caroline would save that one for later. She was fluent in both French and Spanish, the latter proving to be much more useful in political circles. Christine had made a number of jokes at her expense during the past couple of years, asking Jack when he was going to start sending his wife out to cultivate better relations between Pennsylvania and Canada.

“I, um, met with Susannah before she left,” Caroline said.

Christine couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice. Caroline and Susannah were friendly, but not close. “About what?”

Caroline retrieved a large envelope from the coffee table. “I probably should have asked you first,” she whispered. “I haven’t updated these documents in years. But I hoped – I took a chance that you’d be okay with this.”

She handed the envelope to Christine, who took the papers out and scanned them briefly, then rubbed her eyes. “You appointed Thomas and me as guardians of the girls,” she said.

“The financial stuff is in there too,” Caroline said. “So you and Tom don’t have to worry about anything in that regard.”

Christine continued to stare at the documents. “That is the least of my worries right now.”

“I should have asked, shouldn’t I?” Caroline hugged herself. “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have done this without talking to you beforehand.”

Christine looked up at Caroline. The hand holding the papers trembled slightly, almost imperceptibly. “Caroline, it’s okay.” She reached over to pat Caroline’s knee. “It’s fine. It’s just unexpected. I thought your best friend from college was their guardian.”

“She was,” Caroline said. “But I’m not sure she’s in the best position to serve in that role anymore. She’s so far away. And she hasn’t really kept a low profile either, if you catch my meaning.”

Things were better in Chicago than they were in the northeast, but they were getting worse. Caroline’s best friend and her family were in the process of moving to London to stay with relatives. The UK and its former colonies, including Canada, had been mostly friendly to American ex-pats and citizens seeking political asylum or wanting out for the time being. The international community voiced their occasional opinions on the hypocrisy of the current American political situation, but also remained largely silent. An odd move, since it seemed as if now would be the time to gloat. Or take action. But if foreign nations were making any move to intervene, they’d done a good job of keeping it under wraps.

Christine flipped through the papers again. “Susannah drew these up for you? Seems a little out of her range of expertise.”

“She was one of the few people I knew I could trust.”

Christine made a grim face, putting the legal documents back on the coffee table. “I’m very touched by this gesture. Tom will surely feel the same way.” She cleared her throat. “I’m concerned about the motivation.”

“Why’s that?”

“I feel like you’re only doing it because you’re afraid something might happen to you and Jack.”

“Isn’t that what guardianship papers are usually about?”

“You know what I mean.” Christine grasped Caroline’s hands tightly. “You and Jack need to be careful. You’re saying and doing reckless things, making it clear to Santos that you think he’s an interloper.”

“He is.”

“That doesn’t matter anymore. You’re engaging in dangerous behavior here. You need to keep your head down. Do it less obviously.”

“We’re past that point. We were subtle last year and look where that got us.”

Christine’s eyes got very bright. “I do
not
want anything to happen to you,” she said ferociously, slapping her hands on her lap. She always preferred her temper over her less desirable emotions. “You are going down a very treacherous path.”

“Jack and I are aware of the risks. We know what we’re doing.”

“I wish you weren’t so sure of yourself.”

Caroline wasn’t sure of anything, but this wasn’t the time or place to broach that topic with Christine. “We don’t have any other options. We feel very strongly about this. We both love this country very much and what we see happening is increasingly disturbing.”

“Your love of country isn’t going to mean jack squat if half of what I’m hearing in Washington is true. “

“Have you heard anything about us?”

Christine spun to face her. “You know they wouldn’t tell me a damn thing even if I asked. They know where my loyalties lie.”

“Could have fooled me,” Caroline retorted.

“Oh, fuck you,” Christine snapped.

Caroline shrunk back into the couch. Christine had never, ever used that kind of language with her. With anyone, really. It didn’t matter that Caroline herself used that linguistic expression all the time, more as a point of emphasis than as an actual slur. It hurt coming from Christine. She hung her head. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Christine said, sounding appalled with herself. “I should not have said that. Especially to you.”

“It’s okay. I deserved it.”

“No, you didn’t. No one should ever speak to you that way.” Christine looked away from Caroline, toward the dining room. “Sometimes I feel very guilty about the choices I’ve made,” she said quietly. “You must be so ashamed of me for not doing more to help you.”

Caroline took in a sharp breath. It wasn’t fair of her to blame her best friend. For anything. She knew Christine only had goodness in her heart, which was all that mattered. It was one of the few things she allowed herself to hold onto. “I’m not sure there are any easy choices left to make,” she said. “We all have different battles we choose to fight. And you have your own family to worry about. You have Jess.”

Christine’s younger daughter graduated from Lehigh the past spring but had come out of the closet her first semester in Bethlehem. She was laying low at her parents’ home for the time being, but the press and public knew who she was. Santos had made his feelings on homosexuality abundantly clear, though he had yet to take any affirmative steps to codify his views into law. Caroline had heard rumors, though, of outspoken activists disappearing into the night and never coming back. Too many rumors.

“I know,” Christine said. “But I still feel badly about it. I feel like I’m betraying you somehow.”

Maybe Caroline had imagined their strained relationship. And maybe Christine’s feelings were a little more complicated than she realized. Caroline should have known to give her the benefit of the doubt. “You’re not,” she said. “I love Jess as if she were my own. I understand why you’re trying to avoid causing a ruckus and putting her in harm’s way. Please don’t feel guilty about that.”

Christine turned back to Caroline. “It’s ironic, really. You were always the more conciliatory out of the two of us and now you’ve turned into some sort of firebrand.”

Caroline sat up straighter, as if Christine had impugned her. “I don’t want to see the United States destroyed. I swore to uphold the Constitution when I was a prosecutor and a member of the House. Jack took the same oath when he was elected to Congress and when he became governor. I believe in this country, in its promise and its hope, its values and ideals, and I’ll be damned if that fucking fascist Lorenzo Santos is going to barge in here with his socialist sidekick, pulling the wool over the eyes of the nation and destroying over two hundred years of representative democracy in almost record time. I won’t let it happen.”

Christine’s protective anger returned. “That is exactly what I mean, Caroline. Repeat that statement the next time you’re being interviewed by the press and you wait and see what happens. I hope you’re cutting back your public appearances.” Caroline glared at her, but Christine was unrelenting. “I mean it. I agree with you on everything but I wish you and Jack would try to get through this by keeping your heads down and your mouths shut.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

Christine sighed. “Yes, I know. It’s one of the more frustrating parts of being friends with you.”

Caroline glanced down at the guardianship documents resting on the coffee table. She clutched her hands together, unable to look Christine in the eye. She’d gone over the inevitable outcome of this conversation many times. Mulled it over in her mind. Wrote it down while she stuffed the papers into that manila envelope. But she’d never been able to say the words out loud.

“Chrissy,” she said, her voice catching.

Christine flinched and squeezed her eyes shut. She’d become unaccustomed to hearing Caroline use her nickname. She gripped the armrest on the couch, new manicure be damned.

Caroline tried again. “Chrissy, I need you to promise me something.”

Could fingernails actually pierce upholstered fabric? It was a long time before Christine opened her eyes to look at Caroline. “Anything,” she whispered.

“I’m not very optimistic about how this will turn out. Something is changing, something dark and disturbing is brewing. I know you see it too.” Caroline willed herself to stay calm, trying to find the right words. “Jack and I…we’ve dug ourselves a hole. And we’ve probably said and done far too much to go back. But I need you to promise me, promise me that if anything happens to me or Jack or to the both of us, that you will keep my children safe. Or if the time comes, when I ask you to run, to get them to Canada, you will.”