He seemed to remember something. He put his drink down, wrapped an arm around her, and said, “Any news on Willa?”
“None.”
“The whole damn FBI on the case and nothing? I’ll get on the horn to Munson first thing in the morning. That is totally unacceptable.”
“It seems so strange that someone would kidnap Willa.”
He held her more tightly. “Jane, smart as you are, I know you’ve already thought about this. The reason they took Willa could have to do with us. They’ll try to hurt us and perhaps this country by using that precious little girl.”
She gripped his arm. “What if they ask for something? Something in return for letting her go?”
Dan Cox let go of his wife, stood, and paced in front of her. He was still a very attractive man. As she watched him walk up and down, she took in the thick shoulders, the perfect hair, the solid chin, the nuggets of cheekbones, and the sparkle of eyes. Physically, he was an amalgam of JFK and Reagan with an intimidating heft of burly Theodore Roosevelt thrown in.
She had fallen in love with him on seeing the man for the first time on a college campus on a beautiful early fall day. He’d been a junior and she an incoming freshman. It was a day that now seemed a million years ago. And in many important ways, it was. That life had been over for a long time. She could hardly call it part of her history anymore, for so much of immense importance had come in the intervening years.
“It depends on exactly what they want, Jane. The nuclear codes? I can’t do that. One of the founding documents? I can’t do that either. In fact, in all candor, the president of the United States cannot give in to blackmail of any kind. The precedent that would set would be untenable for any future administration. It would emasculate the office.”
“So you’re saying that we’ll never see Willa again?”
He sat down next to her, rested a hand on her knee. “What I’m saying is that we will do everything in our power to get that little girl back safe and sound. We just have to keep thinking positive thoughts. We have the might of the United States behind us. That’s no small thing.”
“Will you be at the funeral tomorrow?”
He nodded. “Of course. I have an early rally in Michigan, but I’ll be back in plenty of time. Air Force waits for no one. And at moments like this family needs to stick together. And not to sound too crass about it, but it’ll let the country know that the Coxes put family first in periods of crisis. And that’s the truth.”
She put her magazine down. “I can see you’re still in full campaign mode. It’s late but I’m not really sleepy. Would you like to watch a movie in the theater? Warner Brothers just sent one of their latest over. I don’t even think it’s in theaters yet.”
He finished his drink, stood, and held out his hand.
“No movie. I missed you, love of my life.”
He gave her the same heart-stopping smile he’d flashed at the college freshman over twenty-five years ago. She rose obediently and followed him into the bedroom. He closed the door behind them. He took off his tie and shoes and unzipped his pants. She slipped off her dress and undid her bra straps. She lay back on the bed, he on top of her. What followed was a private, intimate moment, an extraordinarily rare event for the First Couple. Sometimes, Jane thought, as he heaved and thrust above her and she moaned in his ear, that making love to her husband was the only privacy they ever had anymore.
When he was done he fell away from her, gave his wife a final kiss, and went to sleep. Air Force One was out the gate early the next morning and even the tireless Dan Cox needed a few hours of rest before hitting the road again.
The first time they’d made love in this very bed Jane had started to giggle. The newly sworn-in president had not been amused, interpreting her glee as aimed at something lacking in his lov
emaking skills. However, when she’d told him why she was laughing, he’d joined in with her.
What she’d told him was, “I can’t believe I’m getting screwed by the president of the United States.”
Now Jane lay there for a half hour before rising, showering, dressing, and surprising the Secret Service agents by going back downstairs. She opened the door to her office, closed it behind her, unlocked her desk, and took out the letter and the key.
When would she get it? What would it say? What would she do then?
She looked at her watch. It was late, but she was the First Lady.
She made the call, woke him up.
Sean King said groggily, “Jane?”
“I’m sorry for the lateness of the hour. You’re coming to the funeral of course.” It was not even close to being a question.
“Ironically, I just attended one.”
“What?”
“Long story. Yeah, I’m planning on being there.”