The Lincoln Myth(94)

“She’s pullin’ out,” he said as he watched Cassiopeia Vitt leave a downtown hotel and ease back into traffic, minus Josepe Salazar and the two others.

He and Malone had been waiting at the Des Moines airport, near the terminal that accommodated private aircraft.

“She’s headed in the right direction,” he said to Malone.

“Just don’t let her make you. She’s good at paying attention.”

Usually he’d have some snappy comeback, but he decided to not aggravate the old-timer. Instead he asked, “What do we do if she goes to where we think she’s goin’?”

“You’ll deal with her. She’s never seen you. So you can blend right in.”

“And you?”

“I’ll watch your back and try to anticipate her. I have some experience with the way she thinks.”

“Stephanie says we’re to get that watch, no matter what.”

“I know. She told me, too.”

He liked the element of not knowing that came from developing a plan as you went along. There was a thrill about it, especially when everything went right. Like at Montpelier. Katie Bishop was now ensconced at the White House, Uncle Danny telling her that she wouldn’t be heading back to Virginia. Instead, her employer would be told that she was needed in Washington for a few days, her job secure. Katie had seemed thrilled, and Stephanie had asked her to explore the Madison journal in detail.

He kept a quarter mile back from Cassiopeia’s vehicle, plenty of cars in between. The road west out of central downtown was a busy boulevard, no way anyone would ever notice a tail.

She was still headed in the right direction.

“It’s going to get more difficult once we get back into that neighborhood near Salisbury House.”

They’d already made the trip, prior to Salazar landing. No danger had existed of missing anybody since the U.S. military was tracking the Learjet across the United States. Stephanie had called in the troops, as this was a top priority.

Ahead, Cassiopeia made a left turn exactly where she should.

“Give her space,” Malone said, his voice remaining deadpan.

He’d already intended to do just that.



SALAZAR ENTERED HIS ROOM AND CLOSED THE DOOR. HE immediately fell to his knees and prayed for the angel to appear. To his immense relief, the apparition hovered above the bed, the same gentle gaze he’d come to expect smiling down at him.

“It is as you commanded. I’ve trusted her.”

“She will not disappoint you.”

“Help her be successful. I want no harm to come her way.”

“She is to be of your body. To become your wife. Together you will start a family that will grow and emerge in the fullness of heaven. Know that to be true.”

He was grateful for the angel’s vision. It calmed him. He’d wanted to go with Cassiopeia, but knew that her caution was wise. He could not risk exposure. For now, Cassiopeia’s skill and independence were assets. But once this threat passed and the promise of Zion fulfilled, there would be changes. Leading and supporting a family was a father’s duty. Mothers raised children. That was the way it had been in his parents’ family, and it would be the same in his own. For both parents to be devoted to something outside the home was a detriment to children, and he wanted good children. At least one from Cassiopeia, more from other wives. His and Cassiopeia’s ages would be a factor, so any other union  s would have to be with younger women. He firmly believed that a mother at home improved children’s school performance, enhanced their attitude toward life, stimulated a healthier work ethic later in life, and forged stronger morals.

He wanted that for his children.

He’d been patient finding a new wife.

So he intended to do it right.

“Heavenly Father and Heavenly Mother were married. As parents they bore the spirit children, which meant that all of the people who ever lived are literally the children of God, brothers and sisters to one another. Soon you will add to their number.”

He liked hearing that.

But for now, he bowed his head and prayed for Cassiopeia’s success.





FIFTY-FOUR





LUKE ENTERED SALISBURY HOUSE THROUGH ITS NORTH DOOR, following a group of excited visitors. Malone had dropped him at the end of the drive and he’d walked the rest of the way. They could not afford to have their car parked in some restricted lot, subject to a valet. Instead Malone kept it a few streets over, past the house’s rear garden, through the trees. They’d chosen a suitable locale earlier.

He checked his watch: 7:25 P.M.

Darkness had arrived, a tame crowd of maybe a hundred milling about through the ground floor and onto a lit back terrace. The front doors opened into what appeared to be a grand hall, where half-timbered beams held the ceiling high overhead and an enormous medieval-style fireplace anchored the opposite wall. Above him, a railing crowded with visitors protected an exposed second-floor balcony that overlooked the hall.