Mounting Fears

55

TODD BACON LANDED HIS AIRPLANE AT PEACHTREE DEKALB AIRPORT, AN ATLANTA general aviation field, then rented a car and drove to the Ritz-Carlton Buckhead, only ten minutes away. He ordered some dinner from room service, set up his laptop, and got online.

He had no evidence of where Teddy Fay was or what his plans were, but the Reverend Henry King Johnson was easier to find, since he published his travel schedule, like any candidate, on his website. Johnson was traveling, mostly in the Southeast, and Todd tried to put himself in Teddy's shoes. If I were Teddy, he asked himself, where would I kill Johnson? He'd worry about how later.

Todd looked for locations that were outside large population areas like Atlanta and Charlotte; Teddy would find smaller venues easier to deal with and, most important, easier to run from. His airplane was likely to be his escape vehicle, so Todd went through Johnson's schedule, looking for smaller cities with airports nearby. There was only one stop on the reverend's campaign trail that fit the bill.

Amelia Island was an expensive resort community near Fernandina Beach, just east of Jacksonville, Florida. Todd, being a southerner and the son of a flying southerner, had visited there with his father as a teenager. They had landed at Fernandina Airport and spent a weekend playing golf.

Then he noticed something even more attractive on the schedule. The reverend was to perform a marriage ceremony on Cumberland Island, the next up from Fernandina Beach. Todd had visited there once, too, with his parents. They had stayed at Greyfield Inn and had taken a nature tour with a guide in an old truck. The place was mostly national seashore now, so the number of visitors was restricted to the inn and a campground that had a capacity of a couple of dozen. The marriage was to take place in the old slave village, now mostly deserted but maintained. Todd remembered that John F. Kennedy, Jr., and his wife had been married there, in the tiny village church, which Todd had visited with his parents.

He found a map of the island on the Internet and, right in the middle of it, the grass landing strip where his father had landed the family Bonanza. He remembered that they had had to buzz the strip before landing, to clear away the wild horses and feral pigs that foraged there. The inn was south of the airstrip, and the slave village was north of it. Teddy could get in there in his airplane, do what he planned to do, and get out in a hurry, and, flying low, he would be virtually untrackable.

Todd went through Johnson's schedule once more, which ran right up to election day, and Cumberland Island seemed Teddy's best choice. Amelia Island would do for a backup, but the place was fully built up, and there would be other people at the Fernandina Airport.

The wedding was three days away, and Todd started looking on the Internet for an airplane to rent at Peachtree DeKalb Airport. He jotted down a couple of numbers and would phone them in the morning.

Todd watched a movie on TV and got to bed early, tired from his long flight. He fell asleep and dreamed of stopping one murder and committing another.

MARTIN STANTON WAS RATTLED, first by the appearance of the National Inquisitor article and then by the phone call from Barbara. And as if that were not enough, he had a phone call from his lawyer.

"This is not good, Marty," Jake said. "I was supposed to get the signed settlement from Betty's attorney today, and it hasn't arrived."

"Shit," Stanton said.

"I have no way of knowing whether either of them has seen the Inquisitor piece, but I think we should assume that they have."

"Jake," Stanton said, "I give you full authority to deny the Inquisitor thing on my behalf. It's nothing but scurrilous supposition, based on nothing but hunches. I am not having an affair with anybody. I go to bed, exhausted, every single night after half a dozen campaign appearances and speeches. I have neither the time nor the inclination to be screwing anybody."

"I'll do what I can, Marty. If I don't hear from her attorney, I'll call first thing tomorrow morning and have at him."

"If they don't deliver by noon, sue. Thanks, Jake, and good night." Stanton hung up and looked at the naked Liz, propped up on an elbow beside him in bed. "You and I have to deny everything," he said.

"Well, of course we do, sugar," she said, dallying with his crotch.

The phone rang.

"I'd better answer this," Stanton said, picking it up. "Hello?"

"This is the White House operator," a woman's voice said. "I have the president for you."

"Yes, of course." He covered the receiver with his hand. "It's the president," he whispered to Liz.

She lay back and pulled the covers over her head.

"Marty?"

"Yes, Will. How are you?"

"I've been better. I suppose you've heard about this Inquisitor thing."

"Somebody showed it to me late this afternoon. I'd never even heard of that publication until that moment."

"I've heard of it, and it can be troublesome. It's not so much that anybody really believes what they write, it's the fact that the mainstream press, once they've seen something there, have a basis to start asking questions."

"Well, if they start asking, I'm prepared to answer them."

"I'm glad to hear that. Worse comes to worst, we have on our side that you and Betty are practically divorced, so both you and Liz are single. You are practically divorced, aren't you?"

"We are. In fact, we were supposed to get the signed settlement today, which is the last step before getting a decree from a court."

"That's good. I'm prepared to back you with the press, Marty, but I think it's in your interest to tell them the truth. We don't want this to come back and bite us on the ass later."

"I understand, Will, and I appreciate your confidence."

Liz was making her way across the bed and was now exploring Stanton's crotch with her tongue.

Stanton gave a little gasp.

"Sorry, Marty," the president said. "What was that?"

"Mosquito, Will."

"I didn't know they had mosquitoes in Denver in late October."

"It's probably been trapped in this hotel since August," Stanton said, running his fingers through Liz's hair.

"We'll talk again," the president said. "Good-bye for now."

"Bye, Will." Stanton hung up and gave his undivided attention to what Liz was doing to him.