One of the men at the bar had gone over to the jukebox. He dropped in a quarter and punched the buttons. As Lancette left the bar, she heard a woman singing:

He takes me to
The places you
And I used to go.

She knew the song: Patsy Cline’s “Why Can’t He Be You?”

21 - White House June 26

21

White House June 26

Addis was in his office preparing to leave for the night. He had finished with the historians. In the White House Map Room, he had collected condolences, accepted best wishes conveyed to his parents, and nodded his head respectfully whenever one of the sages had cornered him to pass on political advice. Addis had buttonholed McGreer and asked if he could take off a few days. For what? the chief of staff asked. A trip to New Orleans, Addis replied. Not on that old business? McGreer asked, suspicion in his voice. No, Addis said, it was personal. McGreer raised an eyebrow. Have fun, he advised. Next, Addis took Kelly aside. Kelly displayed no interest in why Addis was heading out of town. Just make sure my office has a number for you, he said and separated himself from Addis to reclaim his position next to Mumfries.

As he left the West Wing, Addis was grabbed by the arm. Startled, he stopped walking.

“Keep going,” Dunne said.

Addis tripped over his feet and recovered his balance.

“Let’s go to your car,” Dunne said.

They walked past a military Jeep with a gun mounted on its back. Addis led Dunne to his Honda. Both men got into the car.

“What’s the matter?” Addis asked.

“She’s dead,” Dunne said.

“Who?”

“Gillian Silva. Just on local news. Got hit by a car while riding her bike.”

“Shit, Clarence,” Addis muttered.

“I know.”

Both were silent for a moment.

“What did you do after we …” Addis began to ask.

“Nothing. That is, nothing about this. Had to attend an orientation session for the training center. Filled out papers.”

“So what is this? An accident?”

“Car didn’t stop. No one saw the license plate. And an accident? How damn unlucky can two girls be?”

“I didn’t tell anyone.”

“No one? No one at all? You got to let me know if you did, Nick.”

“No one, Clarence.”

“And you met her just before I saw you, right? She walked up to you? Like you said?”

“Like I told you, yes.”

“Maybe it was me,” Dunne said, more in the direction of the windshield than Addis. “Through me.” He was gripping his legs tightly.

“Maybe someone found her like you did,” Addis said.

“I don’t know … I was followed. Somehow or another.”

“So what does this mean?”

“There’s bad shit out there.”

“Clarence, maybe it’s time to share what we know—”