Mounting Fears

39

BARBARA ORTEGA LEFT THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE FEELING VERY GOOD. SHE had spent a little over two hours with a three-person selection committee-two men and a woman-and had answered their questions directly, honestly, and sometimes bluntly. They had reacted with interest, seemed to appreciate her candor, and had, somehow, signaled the attorney general to join them for the last few minutes of the interview, which she took as a good sign. The AG had asked a few questions and had seemed happy with her answers, too.

Her rйsumй was great, the new vice president was her former boss, and she knew there was a letter of recommendation from the president in her file. There was nothing in her personal history that would count as a black mark. She had been outstanding as a student, as an ADA in Los Angeles and in the California AG's office, as well as in the state house. And she was a woman. What could go wrong?

She went back to her hotel, ordered a room-service dinner, and fell asleep with the TV on.

Martin Stanton was en route from Los Angeles to San Antonio when he got the call from the attorney general.

"Morning, Mr. Vice President."

"Good morning, General."

"My selection committee and I met yesterday with your former chief of staff, Barbara Ortega."

"I hope it went well."

"She was very impressive. I noted that there was nothing in her jacket from you about her candidacy, and I wanted to ask you why."

"I felt that I should not be seen to be promoting my former chief of staff for a high federal position at this time, that's all," Stanton said.

"So you asked the president to do it instead?"

"No, the first I heard of the president's involvement was when he mentioned that Barbara had given him as a reference."

"I suppose she had every right to do that," the AG said.

"Of course. She knows the president, and he knows her."

"What is your opinion of Ms. Ortega as a person and a candidate for the appointment?"

"Since you ask, I have the highest possible regard for her both personally and professionally. I think she's perfectly qualified for the appointment."

"I'm glad to hear that," the AG said. "Would you like to know my decision?"

"If you want to tell me, certainly."

"I've decided to hire her as head of the Criminal Division," the AG said.

Stanton tried to keep his voice neutral. "I'm sure you'll be very happy with Barbara," he said, "and I congratulate you on your judgment."

The AG laughed. "Thank you, sir. Would you like to give her the news?"

"No, I think she'd like to hear it from you, General. I'll drop her a congratulatory note when I get a chance."

"Thank you, Mr. Vice President, and good-bye."

Stanton hung up the phone, elated. He also found that he had an erection at the thought of having Barbara in Washington. It had been very tough to do without her during the past days.

At that moment Liz Wharton walked past his seat, and he watched thoughtfully as she made her way up the aisle. She stopped and bent over to speak to someone, and her skirt was pulled tight across her ass. Stanton's heartbeat increased noticeably.

SHELLY BACH PUT DOWN the phone, left her office, and walked a couple of doors down to Kerry Smith's secretary. "Does he have a minute?" she asked.

"He's alone," the woman replied. "Go on in."

Shelly rapped on the door and stuck her head in. "Got a moment?"

"Sure, come on in."

She walked in, took a chair, and noticed how carefully he watched her. They had made a point of being completely professional in the office, even when alone, but their evenings had been much more interesting.

"What's up?"

"Have you ever heard of an agent called Hope Branson?"

"No. What office is she in?"

"Well, the switchboard had a call this morning from someone asking for an Assistant Director Hope Branson, and after being told there was no such person he insisted on talking to an AD, and the call came to me."

"There's certainly no assistant director by that name," Kerry said. "What else did he say?"

"He said that she had come to his office yesterday and shown him FBI ID, and that he had called our switchboard to confirm her identity and reached her secretary. I told him I thought someone must be pulling his leg, and he hung up. I had the call backtracked and it was from the office of the editor of a horrible gossip rag called the National Inquisitor, a man named William or Willie Gaynes."

Kerry sat back in his chair and looked thoughtful. "And what do you divine from that?"

"Sounds like we have an impostor AD roaming the streets," Shelly said.

"Did you get a description of the woman?"

"No, he hung up too quickly."

"Maybe you'd better look into this," Kerry said. "Visit Mr. Gaynes and find out as much as you can about this woman."

"All right," she said, getting up and turning for the door.

"Dinner tonight?"

"Sure," she said, flashing him a smile.

WILLIE GAYNES SAT at his desk and thought deeply. What the hell was going on here? This woman had shown him a business card and federal ID that looked good to him and on top of that a court order and a search warrant, and the judge's clerk had backed it up. Now the FBI had denied all knowledge of this Hope Branson.

Of course, he no longer had the business card, the court order, or the search warrant; she had been smart enough to take all of that with her, along with all the photographs of Teddy Fay, if it was, indeed, Teddy Fay.

Willie had been mixed up in a lot of screwy deals in this job-that was the work, after all-but this one took the cake, and he was going to get to the bottom of it.