Page 93 of The Ruling Class
Bodie said we were looking for someone with military training.I couldn’t think about the future. I couldn’t think about what might or might not happen to me in this basement. So I thoughtabout the man who’d brought me here. Had there been something familiar about him?
Think, Tess.
I thought about everything I knew—about Pierce and Vivvie’s father and the reporter who’d gotten his throat slashed.
The tip came from inside the West Wing, and that’s all I’m going to say.
Inside the West Wing. Military training.
How many people were on the president’s staff? How many of them were there at the gala the night Theo Marquette was poisoned?
How many of them had William Keyes invited to Camp David?
The president was there.My mind defaulted to that. I couldn’t get it to stop.The president was there. The president was there.
But the president of the United States hadn’t slammed those blankets over my mouth. The president of the United States hadn’t slipped a needle into my neck and knocked me unconscious.
The president was there.
The tip came from inside the West Wing.
We’re looking for someone with military training.
I remembered, suddenly, the conversation I’d had with Ivy about the Camp David picture. She hadn’t just told me that she’d been there that weekend. She hadn’t just hinted that there were other people there.
She’d asked me if I’d thought about who was standing just out of frame.
The president was there.This time, the thought took on different meaning in my mind.The president was there, at Camp David. The president was there at the gala.
“Who was standing just out of frame?” I said the words into the concrete, my muscles screaming in objection to the angle at which my body was held. I translated the question, ignoring the pain.
Who was standing just a few feet away from the president?
Who went with him—to Camp David, to the gala? Who worksinside the West Wingbecause the president works inside the West Wing?
Who had I overlooked?
Who specialized in fading into the background?
I heard the footsteps coming behind me. I renewed my struggles, but it did no good. I wasn’t going anywhere—and the steps were getting closer.
I make it a point to learn names.Bodie’s voice was clear in my ears as my captor stepped into view.
Who went where the president went? Who had the training to kill?
The Secret Service agent knelt down next to me and examined my wounds. “Look what you’ve done.”
CHAPTER 56
Damien Kostas. I’d met him for the first time on Ivy’s front porch. He’d approached me at the state dinner. After Henry and I had talked to the reporter, we’d tried drawing out the killer. Kostas had approached me,and I hadn’t even noticed.
Just like it hadn’t occurred to me that the president of the United States never went anywhere alone.
Nimble fingers probed the side of my head. I winced. Kostas brushed my hair out of my face, then in one smooth motion, he righted my chair. “You should be more careful,” he told me.
Seriously?
My brain-to-mouth filter failed me entirely. “Seriously? You brought me here to kill me, and you think I should be more careful?”
