I Do Solemnly Swear (2 page)

Press Secretary William Riley and Speaker of the House Walter Owens intercepted them in front of the elevator. Riley was wearing tan Dockers and a navy polo shirt—a drastic departure from his usual GQ ensemble. His caramel-colored hair looked like he’d just had an appointment with his stylist. She caught a whiff of his cologne and recognized the scent: Cool Water. One of her favorites. Considering the dramatic circumstances, she couldn’t fathom that he’d taken the time to splash on cologne. Owens was as sloppy as ever, his portly body stuffed into slacks that hadn’t fit him in years, and the buttons on his dingy shirt strained. What remained of his gray hair was strategically parted just above his left ear and plastered across his shiny head.

Riley nodded. “Madam Vice President. Charles.”

“I’m horrified,” Owens said. He stared at his scuffed shoes. “This is an unbelievable tragedy.”

“We need to schedule a press conference,” Riley offered, “as soon as possible.”

“Don’t do anything,” Kate said, “until I speak to the First Lady. Draft a statement but no announcements until I review it.”

“Where will I find you?” Riley asked.

Kate eyed McDermott.

“Before we do anything, Madam Vice President, you must be sworn in as president.”

McDermott’s words blindsided Kate. For a moment, she stood dumbstruck, staring at the chief of staff in disbelief. It all seemed so surreal—bizarre, actually.

“We will arrange an official inauguration as soon as possible,” McDermott said, “but for now, Chief Justice Cambridge is waiting in the Blue Room.”

Kate glanced at Walter Owens, feeling certain that his comforting smile was a hollow gesture. She suspected that he was already scheming for a way to make her transition into the Oval Office a difficult one. She’d likely live to regret what she was about to do, but turmoil and panic would surely grip the White House during the next few weeks, and she needed to keep Owens, her greatest adversary, harnessed. As Speaker of the House, he had free rein to use his political moxie to raise havoc and make Kate’s life miserable. But if she appointed him interim VP, a decision certain to incite controversy and raise questions about her sanity, he’d answer directly to her, and Kate might be able to limit his subversive activities.

“Walter, the nation is faced with an unprecedented crisis. We haven’t always seen eye to eye, but it’s time we set our differences aside and unite for the sake of the American people.”
She paused for a moment, still not able to believe that her first decision might one day result in her undoing. “Walter, would you consider assuming the role as acting VP until I have had sufficient time to select a permanent replacement?”

Owens’s eyes narrowed as if searching for an ulterior motive. But Kate guessed that his massive ego would take control. “It would be an honor, Madam Vice President.”

McDermott sighed deeply. “The chief justice is waiting, Madam Vice President.”

One look in McDermott’s eyes and, already, Kate regretted her decision.

***

After being sworn in as president, an event Kate felt certain would remain a faint memory, McDermott whisked her away, and they rode the elevator to the second floor. Four Secret Service agents were posted at the main entrance of the Presidential Suite. Recognizing the COS and the newly sworn-in president, they snapped to attention like boot camp recruits and stepped aside. McDermott rang the doorbell.

Elizabeth Rodgers opened the door. The moment she looked at the First Lady, Kate’s heart felt like it shivered. Elizabeth’s hazel eyes were red and puffy, and her usually rosy cheeks were chalky white.

“Thank you for coming at this ungodly hour,” Mrs. Rodgers said, almost apologizing. Her voice was unsteady, but she was as poised as a gymnast on a balance beam. Elizabeth pointed to the pale-yellow Louis XVI couch facing the white marble fireplace. “Please make yourselves comfortable.”

For years, Kate had admired fifty-eight-year-old Elizabeth Rodgers. She’d always been a stalwart woman, determined and outspoken. Since entering the White House just a short time
ago, she had redefined the role of a First Lady. Always active and publicly visible, she’d founded several influential women’s organizations. Today, Kate was looking at a woman with a broken spirit. Her shaky voice exposed a fragile side Kate had never seen.

As instructed, the president and chief of staff sat next to each other on the sofa. It reminded Kate of grade school, like sitting in front of the principal, waiting to be scolded for some childish misdeed.

Elizabeth sat adjacent to them. She folded her hands on her lap in a proper manner and sat upright as if she were overtly conscious of her posture. She was meticulously kempt, not a single blonde hair out of place, and if it weren’t for the wounded look in her eyes, Kate might have thought the First Lady was on her way to the opera. Kate glanced at the Rembrandt Peale portrait of George Washington hanging above the fireplace. How she’d love to trade places with him right now. A rush of heat radiated from the fire, but Kate’s stubborn goose bumps had no intention of going away.

“My husband was an extraordinary man,” the First Lady began. “A man of great ideals.” Her eyes did not meet Kate’s or McDermott’s; they focused on something across the room. “He believed he could make a difference, change the political structure of Washington, generate a new spirit of patriotism in both politicians and in his fellow Americans.”

She hesitated a moment and forced a swallow. Her tone was formal. It sounded like a eulogy. Kate listened without comment.

“Eight months was hardly enough time for my David to have accomplished anything.” She lifted a glass of water and took a sip. A few drops trickled down her chin and spotted her dress. “Who will fulfill David’s dreams, Madam President? Will you carry on his legacy?”

Kate didn’t know what to say. Rodgers and she had started out on the same path—or so she thought—but Rodgers had drifted from the intended agenda as soon as he’d entered the White House. How could she tell Elizabeth that she could not and would not continue with policies that contradicted her beliefs? She continued to listen intently but was distracted by McDermott, who incessantly cleared his throat, studied his Rolex, and twitched his neck as if his collar were over-starched.

“Mr. McDermott,” the First Lady said, “may I speak to Kate privately?” Kate was uncertain whether Elizabeth had excused McDermott because of his obvious inattention or for a more significant reason.

McDermott sprang up, his face flushed with blood, his voice edged with tension. “I’ll be in my office, Madam President. I’m deeply sorry for your loss, Mrs. Rodgers.” Considering the situation, his words seemed insincere.

The First Lady remained silent until the door clicked shut. She sipped her water. “Tell me, Madam President, are you willing to risk your life for what you believe?”

Kate felt like a wad of peanut butter was stuck in her throat.

“If they got to David, they can get to you, dear.”

“
They
?” Kate was sure her heart had stopped for a moment. “Who are you talking about?”

“If I had their names, they’d be dead. They’re out there. Close to you.”

“Elizabeth, David had a heart attack. Dr. Weinberg—”

“My David could have wrestled a grizzly bear. He’d had some blood-pressure problems, yes, but through a strict regimen of diet, exercise, and medication, he had the heart of an athlete.”

Kate was unclear whether the First Lady was delirious or if there was basis for the warning. “You’re talking in riddles, Elizabeth. Tell me what you know.”

“I should have known something was wrong when David went to bed at eight thirty. I should have called the doctor. He was a creature of habit, you know. His routine was always so methodical. He’d never retire until after the eleven o’clock news. Then he’d read until he couldn’t keep his eyes open. Sometimes until one thirty or two. When he complained of a headache and a queasy stomach, I thought it was a touch of the flu.”

Kate had many questions to ask, and didn’t want to postpone them, but she didn’t feel Elizabeth could answer them with any certainty right now. The First Lady was clearly consumed with grief. She seemed beyond rational thinking. After all, David’s body was still warm. How could she think clearly? The only logical course of action would be to arrange another private conversation after David’s funeral. Given some time, the First Lady might untangle her snarled thoughts.

“You look terribly tired, Elizabeth. Why don’t you get some rest, and we can talk again in a day or so? If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to contact me.”

Before she left the First Lady, Kate embraced her with consoling arms. They held each other firmly, and she could feel Elizabeth’s body trembling. Kate wished there was a way to comfort her but understood that only time could remove the cold dagger twisting into Elizabeth’s heart.

Before Elizabeth released Kate, she whispered in her ear, “Be careful. Things are not as they seem.”

The riddles continued.

***

Kate sat in McDermott’s lavishly appointed office, watching him fidget like a child waiting to see a dentist. She’d never seen him rattled—when they’d first met, she swore he was an android—but David Rodgers’s death seemed to have exposed a more human side in him. She’d thought about meeting him in the Oval Office, but under the circumstances, she just didn’t feel comfortable.

Kate had been trying to decipher Elizabeth’s cryptic warning, uncertain what to make of it. Why had the First Lady concealed her words from McDermott? Questions rose in her mind. Did the First Lady know something about McDermott that Kate had yet to learn?

Contrary to numerous warnings from constituents, Kate had worked remarkably well with McDermott. During her brief tenure in DC, he had been an important ally. McDermott played the political game of chess like a grand master; every move was strategic. But that was how you survived in Washington. Relationships were
everything
. She was well aware of his egocentric reputation. But for some less-than-obvious reason—she had never quite figured it out—he had formed an alliance with her. She knew that beneath his supposed loyalty there existed a hidden agenda, a means to an end. Perhaps now that she was going to occupy the Oval Office, he would expose his secret side.

Her real nemesis was Walter Owens. As vice president, Kate presided over the Senate. And Speaker of the House Owens sat before the House. The concept that these two stubborn politicians could meet in the middle on any legislation proved to be hopeless. They found themselves gridlocked on every issue. Of course, it hadn’t helped that Kate had run for office as an Independent candidate with no allegiance to any party, and Owens was a staunch Republican. Consequently, productive joint sessions
of Congress had been all but impossible. These two bodies of authority couldn’t agree on what time to adjourn for lunch. How could they possibly collaborate on legislation when their respective leaders argued every issue? There were few points on which Owens and she agreed, but Kate hoped that appointing him interim VP had not been a foolhardy decision and that she could find a way to keep Owens in check. McDermott could be an important advocate, so it made sense to approach him diplomatically rather than flex her political muscles. She needed to keep him on her team.

“So do we have a game plan, Charles?”

He loosened his tie, leaned forward in the leather chair, and looked at her with penetrating eyes. “The rules have changed for everybody, Madam President. They don’t teach you how to handle a situation like this at Harvard.”

Of course there were procedures to follow and protocol, but she knew what McDermott meant.

She watched him drumming a pencil on the yellow pad sitting on his desk. It was obvious he had something substantial to say but apparently hadn’t yet composed his words. Perhaps this was why he’d been so anxious in front of the First Lady.

Until this meeting, Kate had never appraised McDermott with such discriminating eyes. If God had been just slightly more generous with McDermott’s features, he could almost be attractive. But his face was two-dimensional—tiny nose, weak chin, flat cheeks—and his eyes were like tarnished pennies. An unremarkable face.

“Madam President, as you settle into the Oval Office, I would encourage you to be prudent and not do anything too drastic.”

“You mean like appointing Mr. Owens VP?”

“Actually, I thought it was a brilliant strategy. Had you given me the opportunity, I would have advised you to do
exactly
that.”

Kate recognized Charles’s subtle message. She’d made the impulsive decision to appoint Owens as VP without consulting him. “So, if enlisting Walter Owens as VP wasn’t drastic, what
is
drastic, Charles?”

He gave her a long, searching look. “Are you planning to replace any staff members?”

“Do you think I should?”

He shook his head.

“What makes you ask such a question?”

He lifted a shoulder. “It’s no secret that you reorganized in Kansas.”

Now she understood. “You mean cleaned house?”

“That’s a less appealing way of putting it.”

“The state was being run by incompetent fools. I had no choice.”

“People are always replaced when there’s a new captain.”

“Charles, I thought you had a little confidence in me. David’s body isn’t even cold yet, and you’re worried about a
bloodbath
? It’s not necessary that you update your résumé. Do you have any idea how difficult it was for me to leave my staff as VP? The last thing I want is to come storming into the White House like Genghis Khan. I want a harmonious transition. That’s why I didn’t make any personnel changes and kept key members of President Rodgers’s staff. What happened in Kansas has nothing to do with Washington. Besides, Charles, if we’re going to accomplish anything, you and I will have to double-team Walter Owens. That’s not going to be easy. He’s been in DC since the discovery of electricity.”

Here lies a certain irony
, she thought. As vice president, Kate had established herself as a credible politician in spite of the fact that no other Independent occupied a Congressional seat. Consequently, she had been as powerless as a gazelle among lions. But Walter Owens—veteran congressman for two decades—would use his leverage with the Republican-controlled Congress to amass a great deal of support. He would not play the role as a powerless VP. Her only hope to keep him from conspiring with his cohorts would be to make certain she kept him distracted with other activities.