Page 33 of A More Perfect Union

Always. Hard habitto break.A few beatspassed and then Zoey wrote:I was hoping to do that other interview offsite.What’s your schedule?

Available anytimeafter noon.Rookhesitated before hitting send, pondering whether she should include anyone elsefrom her team in the interview of Donny Bloomfield. She reasoned with fewerpeople involved he’d be more likely to open up, but a small part of her naggedthat she just didn’t want to share her time with Zoey. This case didn’t appearto be a big one, but the fact that it came from the White House elevated itsimportance, and normally she would have held a team meeting to discuss itbefore she’d ever met with Zoey. But she hadn’t and she didn’t want to now.Rationalizing that her team had a lot of other stuff going on right now and shewasn’t merely trying to spend time alone with Zoey, she sent the message andimpatiently waited for Zoey’s reply. She didn’t have to wait long.

Perfect. Meet meat McNair at one.

* * *

Zoey sat on the hardplastic seat on the Metro train, focusing her energy on ignoring Dixon’sgrating voice. He’d been talking for the last fifteen minutes about how he’dwanted to be deployed, but someone stateside was always in need of his skills,so he’d had to serve his country here at home. He seemed to be working veryhard to keep his tone from being defensive, but it was pretty clear he wascomparing his own experience against hers—overseas, in combat zones—and failingto measure up. After the first few minutes, Zoey had started concoctingfantasies, the most appealing of which involved her pushing him through thedoors at the next stop and waving gleefully as the train pulled away. Pipedream.

Next her thoughtsroamed to Rook and their dinner plans. She’d spent the morning wavering abouther yes to dinner, and she’d come close to texting Rook to say she’d changedher mind. If she had she wouldn’t have to spend the entire day in eageranticipation. How was she supposed to concentrate on interviewing DonnyBloomfield when all she could think about was hanging out at Rook’s placepretending to be entirely focused on their work when she was incrediblydistracted by the mystery of Rook’s public and personal personas?

The train lurched toa stop at Waterfront Station, and she stood too quickly, almost falling intoDixon.

He grabbed hershoulder and steadied her with a grin. “You’ll get used to it.” She grimaced asmile of thanks and walked briskly from the train, leaving him to follow ornot. She could get used to a lot of things, but she was certain he wasn’t oneof them.

They walked a fewshort blocks to McNair where the sergeant at the gate checked their IDs andwaved them through. A few minutes later, they were escorted into a classroomwhere Rook stood to greet them. Like every other time Zoey had seen her, Rookwas dressed like she’d walked off the pages of a fashion magazine. Today shewore a slim, tailored black suit with a crisp pale yellow shirt, open at thecollar. She looked dashing and confident, and Zoey was certain if good lookswere a gateway to success, Rook’s clients got their money’s worth. She openedher mouth to say so before she remembered Dixon’s presence and bit her tongue.“You’re early,” she said instead.

“So are you. I justhappen to be earlier.”

Rook barely gaveDixon a glance, for which Zoey gave a silent cheer. “Is Lieutenant Bloomfieldon his way?”

Rook sat back downand shrugged. “So they say, but I don’t have your kind of pull around here.Maybe you should check with whoever’s in charge and see if they’ll give youmore than a ‘wait here, ma’am.’ I don’t think I’ve been ma’amed so much in myentire life.”

“Welcome to myworld.” Zoey paused, unsure what to do next. She’d spoken to the provost toarrange the interview with Bloomfield, but she didn’t know where his office wasor even what he looked like. She started to pull out her phone to call him whenLieutenant Bloomfield came through the door.

Donny approachedDixon first and offered a salute. He had to know that she was the one who’darranged the interview, but he deferred to the only male in the room,immediately losing points in Zoey’s estimation. When he finally turned andsaluted her, he wore a cocky, fraternity boy grin and she braced for aconfrontation. “Let’s get started, Lieutenant.”

“Sure,” he said. “Thesooner you can clear all this up, the better off we’ll all be, right, Major?”

She ignored theimplication that they were merely going through the paces to give his father abreak and introduced Rook. “Ms. Daniels is here at the request of the WhiteHouse. Anything you can say to us, you can say to her. Understood?” She watchedhim give Rook a once-over, his gaze lingering longer than she liked. Shecouldn’t tell if he found her attractive—he’d have to be dead not to—or if hewas sizing up a challenge. Either way, she wanted to move this along.

“Tell us about thenight at the Ivy Hotel. Was that the first time you used the services of theLorraine Darcy Agency?”

“Wow, you really cutto the chase, don’t you?”

“I have a job to do.”Zoey didn’t bother to hide the growl in her voice, although she was walking afine line considering this kid, arrogant as he was, was also the son of afour-star general who was about to become one of the most powerful people atthe Pentagon. But she wasn’t used to subordinates being so informal and it wasdisconcerting. Nothing she’d witnessed from General Bloomfield would have ledher to believe his son would lack discipline, but maybe being the youngestchild in a military family was kind of like being a preacher’s kid. She decidedto take a different tack, relaxing her posture and leaning in like they wereold friends. “Look, I get it.” She waved her arm. “Being you can’t be easy. Youhave a lot to live up to, and I’m guessing there’s always someone riding youabout fulfilling your legacy. Your dad’s a tough guy, and with the Senatehearings on his confirmation coming up, I bet there’s even more pressure thanusual. Am I right?”

Donny shifted in hischair and looked around the room, everywhere but at her. She’d struck a nerve,but didn’t want to press too hard for fear the pain would send him runningrather than get him to open up. Besides, there was no telling how Dixon mightspin what she’d said when they got back to the office, and she didn’t needBloomfield thinking she was running him down to his own son.

Spin. The word hadbecome part of her lexicon since she’d met Rook. She’d hated it before, havingconsidered it useful for nothing but covering up a lie or making somethingunpleasant sound exactly the opposite. But now she found she was developingspin of her own, already thinking about the way she would describe thisinterview to her superiors. She shot a look at Rook who nodded encouragement.“Lieutenant?” she said.

“It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Sure it wasn’t,”Dixon broke in. “You were just having fun.”

Zoey gave him amurderous look and then caught Rook smiling at her, seeming to enjoy herdiscomfort. Ignoring them both, she pressed on. “Just tell me where you got thecontact for the agency, if you or any of the others contacted them before, andwhat was your arrangement with them?”

He grinned. “Ifthat’s all you want to know, that’s easy. One of the guys, I don’t rememberwhich one, saw an ad online, you know, on one of those lonely heart,matchmaking sites. Pretty sure it was his first time and I’d never heard ofthem before. As for the arrangement, it wasn’t anything special. We invitedsome women to a party and they came. They drank and hung out with us. Someasshole thought we were having too much fun and called the cops. End of story.”

It was far from theend. Zoey opened her file and pulled out photos of the hotel room the managerhad taken after the police were called. She wondered if the reporter from thePostalready had copies of these and why he hadn’t run them yet. Probably waiting tosee if he could get evidence about more senior officers partaking of all thatthe Darcy Agency had to offer and saving it for publication until after thepresident made his nomination of Bloomfield official. She spread the photos outon the table and pressed her finger on one depicting nearly a dozen liquorbottles in a pile by the side of the bed. “Is that part of what you mean by toomuch fun?”

“So now we’re introuble for drinking?”

She ignored him andjabbed a finger at another picture of a lacy thong hanging from the lamp by theside of the bed. “You pay extra for the decor?”

“Guys having fun on aFriday night. Surely even you cut loose from time to time.”

“Absolutely. I make apoint of it every time I return from a battle zone,” she said, a raw enjoymentat the blow she struck with the dig. The most combat he’d ever seen wasprobably in that hotel room. She let a few beats pass. “But I never have to payfor it.”

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