President's Girlfriend 06 - The Sins of the Fathers (24 page)

“Crader?”
Dutch asked, surprised.

“Sorry to
disturb you.”

“What is
it?”

He glanced
at Gina.
 
He hadn’t seen her since she met
with both he and the president and explained what it all meant that they had
slept with a sixteen-year old that weekend in Vegas.
 
Because the age of consent in Vegas was
sixteen, they were just legal, and just barely given Elvelyn’s birthdate, which
Gina also looked into.
 
They had not
committed a legal crime, she made clear,
although
he
could tell she believed they had committed a moral one.
 
And for Crader to have cheated on LaLa on top
of that moral lapse only served to place him, he knew, at the top of Gina’ shit
list.
 
A spot he also knew he rightly
deserved.

Crader
looked at Dutch.
 
His old friend was
still hanging in there with him, but only by a thread.
 
But nowadays Crader would take whatever
support he could get.

“What is it,
Cray?” Dutch asked him again.

And Crader
exhaled.
 
Onward and upward, he
thought.
 
“We’ve found Max,” he finally
said.

Max Brennan
looked at the newspaper clipping and then he looked at Crader.
 
Crader and Dutch were seated on the sofa
inside the modest home.
 
Max was seated
in a wing chair.
 
He had been found in
Ohio, and was transported, immediately on discover, to this safe house in DC.

“It’s some
article, so what?” he said, tossing the clipping back to Crader.
 
“Some female and her hubby
dies
.
 
So what?”

“Ah, cut the
bullshit, Max,” Crader said impatiently.
 
“It’s too damn late.
 
Did you or
did you not mail that to Ally?”

Max looked
at Dutch.
 
Dutch was in a light-brown
suit, his legs crossed.
 
His intense
green eyes were so focused on Max that it was making Max uncomfortable.

“Is that
what you think, too, Dutch?” Max asked his former friend.
 
“Do you think I sent some newspaper clipping
to Allison?”

Dutch didn’t
say anything.
 
He continued to stare at
Max.

Max had a
hurt look in his eyes that Dutch thought was sincere.
 
Until Max smiled that
disgusting reptilian smile of his.
 
“So you remember her, after all?” he said.
 
“I’m impressed.”

“Why did you
send it?” Crader asked.

“Admiration,”
Max said.
 
“You two gentlemen, if I can use
the word loosely, are so admired the world over.
 
The President and Vice
President of the United States.
 
And neither one of you are worth a good
got
damn!
 
Used to love and
leave every woman that crossed your path.
 
Used to bang everything that moved.”

“Apparently
not everything,” Crader said.
 
“We as
hell never banged you.”

Max moved
toward Crader, causing Crader to move toward him, but Dutch pulled Crader
back.
 
“Come on guys,” he said with a
frown on his face.
 
“Let’s have it, Max,”
he then said.
 
“What do you want?”

“Who says I
want anything?”

“I don’t
have all night.”

“No,” Max
said sadly.
 
“Certainly
not for the likes of me.”

“What do you
want, Max?
 
I won’t ask again.”

Max stared
at Dutch.
 
Then he stood up.
 
“Would you care for something to drink?” he
asked.

“Oh, for crying out loud!”
Crader said angrily and stood too, and began pacing.

“I’m sorry
if it upsets you,” Max said, “but I can’t concentrate without a little
pick-me-up.”

“From what I
hear that’s all you’ve been doing,” Crader said snidely.
 
“Getting picked up.
 
Or, rather, picking up young men and treating
them to a night of romance in that palace of a place in Akron.”

“Would you
care for something to drink, Dutch?” Max asked, ignoring Crader.

Dutch had
heard about it too.
 
Max had been a closet
gay for years, and although they were close friends, Dutch didn’t have a
clue.
 
Or, at least, he ignored the clues
and took Max at his word when he talked about loving women and wanting them.
 
It wasn’t until he lied on Gina did their
friendship end.
 
Dutch literally kicked
Max out of the White House when he falsely accused Gina of unfaithfulness.

“No, Max,”
he said.
 
“I don’t want anything to
drink.”

Max expected
as much.
 
But that wasn’t going to stop
him from getting his kick on.
 
Dutch
ruined his political career when he fired him.
 
He had had hopes of running for office himself, maybe even becoming a
governor someday.
 
Now nobody would
return his phone calls.
 
Not even the
young, eager White House staffers he used to supervise.

He walked
behind the sizeable bar and poured himself a glass of champagne.
 
Crader looked at Dutch, as if to get
permission to kick Max’s ass and be done with it, but Dutch’s expression gave
him no clues.

“I feel like
celebrating,” Max said as he returned to his seat.
 
“My old friend is in my presence-although
Secret Service agents surreptitiously surround this presence, but still.
 
My old friend has paid me a visit.
 
I feel honored.”

“Enough of
this shit,” Crader said.
 
“We didn’t come
here to play games with you!”

“Who’s playing
games?” Max asked.

“Where are
the photographs, Max?” Dutch asked.

Max looked
at him.
 
“What photographs?”

Dutch stared
at him.

“I don’t
have any photographs.”

“Sure about
that?” Crader asked.

Max
hesitated.
 
“I’m positive.”

“Then what
the fuck are these?”
 
Crader asked as he
threw a small stack of photographs, with thumbnail negatives, onto the coffee
table.
 
The photos were obviously of two
men and a female, all three having sex.

Max picked
up the photos.
 
Closer inspection showed
Dutch, Crader, and Elvelyn having sex.
 
Max was astounded.
 
He looked at
Crader.
 
“Where did you get these?”

“Surprised,
are you?
 
Ready to talk
now?
 
Who do you think you’re
dealing with, boy?
 
You sold them, we
bought them. The people you sold these to, they came to us with their own
price.
 
You know why?
 
Because everybody has a
price.
 
And one thing’s for damn
sure: your offer will never be higher than ours.”

Max
swallowed hard.

“
Where’s
the rest of the photographs, Max?”
 
Dutch asked.

“That’s all
of them.”

“The negatives?”

“That’s it,
right there,” Max said, pointing to the negatives on the table.
 
“There are no more.”

“Are you the
person who tipped off that Associated Press reporter?”

About Vegas, yes.
 
I told them to ask about
Vegas.
 
I don’t know what they were
talking about with that eight month old child business.
 
I don’t know anything about that.”

Crader
already knew the sister was behind that part of the rumor.
 

Dutch stood
up.
 
“You’ll regret it, Max,” he said,
“if you’re lying.”

“I’m not
lying!
 
That’s it.
 
That’s all.
 
Why would I lie?”

Dutch stood
up.
 
He placed his hands in his pants
pockets and continued to stare at Max.

“What?” Max
asked, irritated by his stare.

“Did you
know that girl was sixteen?”

Max paused,
and then smiled.
 
“Of course I knew.
 
You could have known it too, but neither one
of you bothered to ask.
 
Y’all just
didn’t care.”

Dutch could
feel a sense of moral decay.
 
Because
even Max was right sometimes.
 
He just
didn’t care back then.
 
He wanted
pleasure and she was there to pleasure him.
 
That poor child.
 
What kind of man would have done what he did?

Max knew
Dutch.
 
He could see that regret, that
anguish
, in those big-ass green eyes of his.
 
And he pounced.
 

“One day,”
Max said to Dutch, “will be your reckoning day.
 
One day all of the shit you’ve pulled on people, all of the pain you’ve
caused folks to go through, is going to come back on you.
 
All of it!
 
One day, Walter Harber, you’re going to fall on your knees and beg
forgiveness.
 
And then you’ll see what
it’s like to be the one left behind.
 
Then you’ll see what it’s like to be the one with his back against the
wall, and there’s no way out.”
 
Tears
suddenly appeared in Max’s eyes.
 
“One
day, Walter Harber, you’ll have your reckoning day.”

Dutch stared
at his former friend.
 
And for a moment,
a brief, ephemeral moment, Dutch felt like a fraud.
 
He’d done more than his share of bad things
in this life, but somehow he managed to believe that he was one of the good
guys in the end.
 
But now, for this one
moment, as he stared in the eyes of a man he used to love, he saw the other man
inside of him.
 
And he couldn’t find
anything good about that man; about
that
Dutch
Harber.

It spooked
him.
 
For a moment.
 
But he quickly recovered.
 
This was Max lecturing him.
 
Snake-in-the-grass Max.
 
He’d be out of his mind to let a prick like
that get to him.

“Take your
time, Cray,” he said.
 
But he hesitated
again, with that troubled look still in his eyes, and continued to stare at his
former friend.
  
Who did he think he was
telling Dutch Harber about a reckoning day?
 
After all the shit he’d pulled on people he had the nerve to tell Dutch
about a reckoning day?
 
It was hypocrisy
in the extreme, Dutch thought, as he looked once more at Max, and then left the
building.

Crader, who
never liked Max Brennan, walked over to Max.

“Why are you
still here?” Max asked nervously as Crader began moving toward him.
 
“I told you there are no more photos.”

“What about
videos?” Crader asked.

“There are
no videos!” Max insisted.
 
“What are you
talking about?”

“I don’t
know if I believe you.”
 
Crader was now
standing in front of Max.

“That’s your
problem,” Max said, standing up.

As soon as
he stood, Crader grabbed him, moved behind him, and placed his arm around his
neck.
 
He then pulled out a gun and as
Max fought hard and protested
,
he placed the barrel of
that gun deep inside of Max’s mouth.
 
Max’s eyes popped wide, and all of his movements ceased.

“The day a
photograph, a videotape, or anything related to that Vegas weekend becomes
public,” Crader said, “will not be your reckoning day.
 
No, sir.
 
To hell with reckoning.
 
Because the day any of those items appear
anywhere in public, will be the day that you die.”
 

He tightened
his grip on Max.
 
Max began to
sweat.
 
“Just one release, Max,” Crader
continued, “and you will leave this earth.
 
I don’t care if you knew about it.
 
I don’t care if you didn’t know about it.
 
I don’t care if you were in the hospital in
traction when that one photograph inadvertently was made public.
 
If it goes public, you go dead.
 
Are you getting the message here, Mr.
Brennan?”