Page 5 of A More Perfect Union

She considered hernext words carefully. “I’m just wondering why they have you escorting mearound. Seems a little beneath your rank.”

“It is,” he said,“but I volunteered.” He slowed his brisk walk and turned to face her. “We allgot the reports, and I know you’ve been taking a lot of flack out there for blowingthe lid off this thing. Least I can do is make sure you scoot through this partof the process unscathed.”

She should begrateful Sharp was still taking a personal interest in her career, but a smallpart of her was offended at the idea she needed protection from the fallout ofher decision to report members of her platoon when she learned of the schemethey were running under her command. “I expected pushback at the base, but evenhere?”

He nodded.“Bloomfield’s the exception. There are a few of the top brass who wish you’dgone through back channels to report what you found.”

“And you?” She askedthe question before she thought it through, and once the words were out, shebraced for his answer. If her mentor said she should have kept quiet, she wasn’tsure she could ever recover her respect for him.

“You did the rightthing, no question. But you had to know there would be fallout.”

“What did you teachme? It’s a bureaucracy. There’s always fallout.”

“Fair enough.” Hestarted walking again, double time. “Come on, soldier. The lawyers arewaiting.”

Later that evening,Zoey emerged from a steaming shower, slipped into the courtesy robe, andcontemplated the room service menu. After a grueling afternoon answering dozensof practice questions, all she wanted was some real food, a stiff drink, andsolitude. She placed her order and turned on the TV, hoping to escape into amindless comedy or a thrilling adventure movie. She clicked quickly past thelocal channels and the Home Shopping Network, but when she landed on MSNBC, shefroze. The screen filled with the image of her savior from the airport, RookDaniels, standing next to a handsome couple at a podium, fielding questionsfrom reporters. Based on the time, Zoey figured the news conference had takenplace a few hours ago. New York City. So, that’s where Rook had been headedwhen she’d boarded the helo in the private terminal at National. Zoey turned upthe volume.

“Well-known DCfixer Rook Daniels appeared with her client, US Representative Buster Jenkins andhis wife, Farah Hamil, to answer questions about the breaking news that lewdphotos of Jenkins showed up in an online chat room. We have a panel assembledto discuss the fallout, but first let’s go to our New York affiliate for thehighlights of the press conference.”

The screen changed toshow a tall blond reporter standing outside the St. Regis in downtown New York.Zoey had never been there, but she recognized the iconic building from movies.

“Good evening,Chris,”the reportersaid.“The press conference was what we’ve come to expect from Daniels. Sheput her clients front and center for the camera at a distinguished locale andlet them speak directly to the press, but there was no doubt they’d beenwell-prepped to field any questions lobbed their way. Jenkins denied thecharges. Hamil stood by her man. No surprises here.”

“There’s beenspeculation that Farah Hamil has been planning to launch her own campaign formayor of New York. Any word on that and whether her husband’s troubles willhave an impact on her political future?”

“The questiondefinitely came up, and I have a clip to show how it went down.”

Zoey turned thevolume up, her gaze riveted on Rook who leaned into the microphone at thepodium and called on a reporter from theNew York Times.

“What impact will thepending charges have on Councilwoman Hamil’s expected announcement for themayoral run?”

“Clever, Charlie,”Rook said with an engaging smile. “First of all, there are no pending charges,merely an investigation. Second, the only expectation Farah Hamil has right nowis that you will report fairly and objectively about her husband’s case andgive their family the space to deal with these troubling accusations. One morequestion,” Rook said, turning her attention to the other reporters in thecrowd.

Zoey smiled at thescreen, both charmed and annoyed by Rook’s evasive, yet telling doublespeak. Ifshe were inclined to gamble, she’d lay odds that Farah Hamil would be divorcedand running for mayor of New York within the year. But what really captured herattention about the coverage on TV was Rook. If possible, she looked even morehandsome than she had at the airport. Clearly comfortable in front of thecameras, she assumed her role of “fixer” with ease. While normally Zoey wouldfind the moniker abhorrent, Rook had certainly fixed things for her when she’dneeded help, so she really couldn’t judge. Besides, even if she didn’t care forRook’s chosen profession, she couldn’t deny Rook looked good doing it, and shecertainly couldn’t deny she enjoyed watching the show.

* * *

Rook stood at thepodium, well practiced at not blinking at the prolonged burst of shutterflashes or the onslaught of prurient questions about the naked photos of thecongressman. Eyes focused on the press crowded in front of her, Rook still feltthe palpable discomfort of her client, US Representative Buster Jenkins who wasposed ramrod straight next to his steely-eyed wife. Rook had coached them wellin the time they’d had since her helicopter had landed, but she still wouldhave preferred better casting for this press conference. Unfortunately, whileshe was very selective about whom she chose to represent, her clients rarelycame from central casting.

She’d first metBuster years ago, before he’d started his political career, when he marriednoted lawyer Farah Hamil. Farah was a long time acquaintance from law school,but the wedding invitation was the first time Rook had heard from her sincetheir graduation. Rook attended the wedding, more for the opportunity to see otherfriends from their class than because she was invested in the couple’s futurehappiness, and she’d sensed from the beginning Buster and Farah were a typicalpower couple, destined to either promote or implode each other’s success. Likesimilar couples before them, they appeared to have entered a tacit agreement toescalate Buster’s political ambitions first, but the political gossip mill wasalready churning about Farah’s expected announcement to run for mayor of NewYork.

Until this week, whenthe pictures were splashed on the front page of theEnquirer, showingBuster in a compromising position with another woman, a much younger woman.Panicked about her own political future, Farah had contacted Rook’s office andimplored her to do her magic to make it all go away as quickly as possible.After an in-depth conversation with Farah about the potential options and anintensive video conference with the couple last night, they’d agreed to a pressconference to get in front of the story.

So far the questionshad been probing, but Rook handled them with ease, deflecting where necessaryand hitting the issue of privacy hard, but it was time to wrap this circus up.“One more question,” Rook said, pointing to the political reporter fromVanityFair. “Diane?”

“Is there anyevidence the photos have been tampered with in any way, so they are not whatthey appear to be?”

Rook nodded. “I’m notat liberty to share any such evidence with you at this time, but it’s clearsomeone is trying to impugn Congressman Jenkins’s excellent reputation for goodcharacter. I will say this.” She paused and met several key sets of eyes in thecrowd of reporters. “Anyone can make anything look real on the Internet.” Sheglanced back at the troubled couple. “On behalf of Congressman Jenkins and hiswife, I’d like to thank you all for being here. They are both anxious to putthis nightmare behind them and return to serving the citizens of New York. Youmay contact my office for updates.” Rook ignored the continued chorus ofshouted questions and walked away from the cameras. She placed an arm aroundBuster and escorted him and Farah through the private exit at the back of thehotel ballroom that had been designated for their use. The getaway plan broughtup memories of rushing through the back halls of the airport with Zoey Grangerat her side, and she wished she were with Zoey pursuing that chase instead ofthis one.

When Rook was certainthey were alone, she motioned for the couple to stop.

“That was brilliant,”Buster said, “Ending with the assertion the photos are fake. That’s going to bethe lead.”

“Except for onething,” Rook said. She turned to Farah and fixed her with a stare. “Do you wantto tell him or should I?”

“What?” Buster asked,looking furtively between the two of them.

Farah cleared herthroat. “The photos aren’t fake and anyone with half a brain can figure thatout.”

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