Dropping my foot, I clapped as Senator Colemen wrapped up his speech. Mrs. Colemen stood, welcoming her husband into her arms for the cameras. We all stood for the photo, smiling like the Brady Bunch on crack.
“What were you all talking about?” Senator Colemen asked, glancing around the table, perhaps sensing the dissipating tension.
“The baby moved again, and my mother almost knocked over the table to feel,” Liam lied with ease.
He smiled. “I can only imagine. Kids are great, but I can’t wait for the grandkids.”
“Yes, please excuse me,” I told him, rising from my seat.
Liam stood, making room for me. “Where’re you going?”
“Bathroom, Dad. I’ll be right back.” He was so damn overprotective.
Kissing my cheek, he leaned and whispered into my ear, “You’re sexy when you’re mean.”
“I’m always sexy,” I whispered back.
He grinned. “You’re always mean.”
Shaking my head, I pulled away.
It was interesting to be around so many political figureheads at once. They all seemed to have come not for the good cause, but in hopes of being lobbyists. Each one trying to explain why they needed funding for whatever side of bullshit they were on this week. Why the next president needed to worry about this or how America was falling behind on that. They all looked so clean in their white, yet they were all dirty.
Walking into the foyer of the house, I couldn’t help but wonder: if they were the keepers of the law, the people we elected to keep justice, how anyone could be surprised by the type of people we were. We were the ‘good’ criminals. We took only what was ours, sold to only those who wanted, and killed those deserving…for the most part. We even gave back to our community ten times as much as they did.
As I turned the corner, I watched the First Lady enter the study—mine and Liam’s— pulling a woman behind her in haste.
Lesbian affair? I thought, trying my best not to smile. So soon after her husband’s murder? If something like that leaked to the media, I could knock her straight to the hell she supposedly experienced the day of her husband’s demise.
I walked over to the wall, as we liked to call it—the wall I had shot through only a year ago and destroyed Evelyn’s Pollock. She hadn’t been able to find another painting to cover it, so instead she had an indoor wall fountain installed. To get to the room behind it was as simple as pushing in a loose tile.
“What the hell is going on here?” I asked, causing Adriana to jump out of Antonio’s arms.
Antonio stood straighter. “Neal told me watch the cameras, ma’am.”
“Ma’am…” Adriana started.
“Both of you out, now.”
I blinked as they both rushed by. Pulling up the study camera, I saw the First Lady clearly. However, the woman she was with cared more about our books, her features were obstructed due to the camera’s angle. One thing was disappointingly clear: I was mistaken, that woman was not her lover. The First Lady looked terrified, shaken, as if she were standing in front the devil herself.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she snapped feebly.
“Why?” the woman asked, pulling out a book. “I paid a whole lot of money for that plate of fish.”
The moment her lilting voice reached my ears, my heart began to race; I felt suffocated, I could hardly breathe. The healed bullet wound in my shoulder burned in recognition of her, Aviela—my mother’s voice. She stood there in her white suit and even whiter shoes while flipping through the pages of my book with her deceivingly pure white gloves.
“You know why!” The First Lady desperately wailed. “Someone could see us together and know—”
“And know what?” Aviela asked. “That you hired me to shoot your husband, their beloved President, between the eyes?”
Oh shit.
I wanted to go but my hand went to my stomach. So instead I reached for the phone.
“Callahan,” Liam answered monotonically.
“Get to the study now. Aviela’s there,” I told him before hanging up.
The First Lady grabbed the book from her hands, throwing it across the room. “That’s not what happened! I never asked you to kill him. He was going to leave me, he promised to help my political career! I asked you to help me secure my future!”
Grabbing a hold of her neck, Aviela pulled her face closer. “And here we are. You’re running, some may even go as far as to say you’ve already won the race for leader of the free world. That’s a pretty secured future in my eyes. Now, pick up that book before I snap your pathetic neck and find a new puppet.”