The Inner Circle

96

"Don’t say those words to me,” Tot warned, gripping the receiver at his desk.

“Will you just listen?” Khazei asked through the phone.

“Do you know where Beecher is or not?”

“Don’t blame this on me. You said Dallas’s car was tagged last night-that all I had to do was track them on GPS.”

“That is all you had to do. In fact, isn’t that why you went racing to St. Elizabeths? To find them?” Tot asked. “So are they there or not?”

“The car’s here, sure. But you should see what else is here-sirens swirling… there’s no going in or out-total lockdown. As I pulled up, they had half their security force gathered around Dallas’s car that Beecher drove here. So yes, that gray car is still in the same GPS spot as it was a half hour ago. But I’m telling you, Tot-there’s no Beecher… no Clementine… no one’s here.”

Glancing out the plate glass window of his office, Tot stared down at Pennsylvania Avenue, then tightened his focus so that all he saw was his own gray beard in his reflection. “Something’s wrong.”

“Do not panic on this.”

“You’re not listening. Something’s wrong, and Beecher’s gone,” Tot insisted. “And the only way we’re salvaging this is if we somehow find him.”

“That’s fine. You’re the one who knows him so well. Tell me what’s next?”

Tot thought about it for a moment. He thought about it again. And for the first time in a long time, he had no idea.