“Well, I don’t think it means a fucking difference to anybody out there,” McGreer interrupted. “She was CIA. Front group or not. So all this fucking shit is going to keep growing like fucking kudzu. Especially if Nick holes up. We all know the fucking rules. These guys are going be in a frenzy until we give them Nick. So it’d be fucking smarter to do it sooner than later. Get him out there. Sacrifice the first day of the convention. A press conference. A group interview with a few of them. Whatever. It’ll step all over tomorrow. But we still got the next two days. Besides, what do the fucking delegate counters say? Margaret needs the clean shot in Chicago. Not us. But we do anything that looks like we’re fucking hiding something, we’ll get hosed.”

Finn nodded his head. Byrd said he agreed, too. Addis knew that McGreer had the right read—that is if Addis could be trusted before a media audience.

“I talked to the President,” Kelly said.

Addis knew what was coming. He, too, often had used that phrase.

“And he agrees this should be put off for a few days.”

Kelly knows. He knows why this happened. Why she’s dead. And they want me quiet. Don’t scream. Don’t shout. Keep your shit together. Go along. For her. Find out, for her.

“So where do I cool my heels?” Addis asked.

“Not at home, obviously,” Kelly said. “We’ll find a place in town. And we can have security to keep people away. Grayton says it’s no problem. The life of a White House official was threatened. It’s an appropriate use of official resources.”

“Sure,” Addis said. “I’m sorry I never got that speech language to you last night. Should I work on that?”

Sound pathetic.

“I’d kinda like to keep busy,” Addis said.

“No, it’s done,” Kelly said. “Let’s find a lawyer. Have him come here. You stick around until then. Take it easy.”

“Okay,” Addis said. “But if I can be of any help—”

“We’ll let you know,” Kelly interrupted. “Now, I’ve got to plan a convention. At one it’s the Cabinet meeting send-off. Then at two, it’s wheels-up. First to Columbus, Ohio.”

The wife of the governor of Ohio had gone to college with Margaret. She would be there with her husband to greet the President. A nice slap, Addis thought.

“Then Nashville,” Kelly said. “An airport rally.”

Everyone knew the South, except for Louisiana, was going to be difficult territory for Margaret, Addis told himself.

“And then California for the night,” Kelly continued. “Announce we’ve squeezed out a few more dollars for cops for the cities.” He rubbed his bald pate. “Too bad, Nick, you won’t be with us.”