Act of Treason

40

Kennedy opened her safe, retrieved the oversized envelope, and walked over to the sitting area across from her desk. Rapp followed and came to a stop at her left as she laid out the photos in a slow, deliberate manner. At first Rapp had no idea what he was looking at, other than the fact that they were surveillance photographs of two people, who if he had to guess probably weren’t married. There was something vaguely familiar about the woman. Rapp ignored her naked body and focused on the face. She was rather animated in the first six shots but in the seventh, the camera had caught her with her mouth closed, her face relaxed, and her eyes looking off in the distance. She had a detached vacant look on her face that was definitely familiar. Rapp finished looking at all the photos and then went back to the seventh one. He almost picked it up for closer examination, but his professional instincts stopped him. No sense leaving his fingerprints on something that obviously had Kennedy spooked.

Again, Rapp focused on the face, and ignored the beautiful body. The high cheekbones, the thin nose, the long, wavy, chestnut hair tangled and partially obscuring the right side of her face. There was something definitely familiar about the woman. Rapp blocked out every feature except the eyes, nose, and mouth. Suddenly everything clicked. He pictured the woman with her hair up in a kind of loose ponytail, dressed stylishly yet conservative, playing the role of a candidate’s wife. It was Jillian Rautbort. The president-elect’s wife. Rapp’s focus intensified as he remembered the sorrow he’d felt for the political couple after the attack. Jillian Rautbort wasn’t much older than Anna had been when an explosion had taken her life. Rapp felt Alexander’s pain. He’d seen some of the footage of the funeral and the public statements Alexander had made in the immediate aftermath. He’d watched the man on election night when his opponent had conceded the race. Even in victory the man seemed irreparably wounded. It appeared that the greatest achievement of his career was tempered by a loss that could never be repaired.

These photos now forced Rapp to call those painful memories into question. Was it an act? Rapp had a hard time believing it. His job depended on being able to judge people in a split second. Picking friend from foe in a foreign land where the wrong decision could mean his life. Alexander’s pain seemed so genuine. If he’d been faking it, the man was an absolute monster.

Rapp’s eye settled on the man in the photos for the first time. The collage started with the two standing and then with Jillian riding the man on a lounge chair next to the pool. The guy was big. Jillian Rautbort looked tiny on top of him. Where Jillian was completely naked, the man still had on most of his clothes. His pants were pulled down to mid-thigh. There was something oddly familiar about him as well. Rapp noticed something coiling from the man’s left ear. His eyes opened a bit wider and he began searching the other photos for the same coil. He found it in two other photos.

“Jesus Christ,” Rapp said softly.

He looked at the photos where the man was on his back. Specifically the right side of his belt line. He expected to find either a radio or a gun. The photo wasn’t clear enough, but something was there.

Without taking his eyes off the photo Rapp said, “Please tell me this guy is not a United States Secret Service agent.”

“Unfortunately he is.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I wish I was.”

“Who is it?”

“Special Agent Matt Cash.”

Rapp looked at the photos again, from left to right. “When were these taken?”

“Labor Day weekend at her parents’ Palm Beach estate.”

“How did they come into your possession?”

“Cap Baker. He bought them from an unknown individual for what was probably a large sum of money.”

“Can you believe him?”

“I think so. He claims he had no intention of using them. His candidates were ahead in the polls.”

“Then why did he buy them?” Rapp asked a bit skeptically.

“He says the campaign was flush with cash and he thought the best move would be to take them out of circulation. He thought there was a slight chance they could be released and might cause sympathy for Alexander.”

Rapp laughed. “Yeah, right. When did he buy them?”

“Mid-September, I think.”

“A lot could’ve happened between then and the first Tuesday in November. His candidate could have fucked up in one of the debates and overnight his lead would have vanished. These photos were his insurance policy.”

“I agree.”

“So why did he decide to give them to you?”

Kennedy sighed. “This is where things get interesting. Apparently there’s some bad blood between Baker and Stu Garret.”

“Alexander’s campaign manager?”

“Yes. They despise each other. In early October, Baker decided to give Garret something to really sweat over, so he took three of the photos, wrote, ‘You’ll Never Win,’ on the back, and had them delivered to Garret’s hotel room in Dallas.”

“Did Garret know they came from Baker?”

Kennedy shrugged. “If he did, it was a guess.”

Rapp put his hands on hips, looked down at the photos, and then shook his head. “Did Special Agent Cash happen to be in the second limo on the day of the attack?”

“Yes.”

“Wonderful.”

Kennedy walked back to her desk and grabbed a two-inch file in a red folder. She returned to Rapp’s side and said, “I want you to take a fresh look at the case from top to bottom.” She handed the file to Rapp. “This is the Secret Service’s preliminary report. Read through it and talk to Special Agent Rivera. I want to know if she knew one of her people was screwing the boss’s wife.”

Rapp nodded. “So you’re thinking Gazich might be telling the truth.”

“That the second limo was the target…I think that a lot of people rushed into this thing assuming certain facts. Read the report. Especially the investigator’s notes. The entire investigation was conducted through the prism that the attack was perpetrated by terrorists. Give it a fresh look and we’ll talk about it in the morning.”

Rapp lifted the file up and looked at it for a second. “Anything else?”

“Yes.” Kennedy hesitated briefly and then said, “Have Marcus do a thorough check on Stu Garret.”

“Stu Garret,” Rapp said with obvious surprise. “That little pud. You think he’s capable of pulling something like this off?”

“There are some things you don’t know about Mr. Garret, and I’m not going to get into them right now, but trust me when I say the man is capable of almost anything.”

“Okay. I’ll have Marcus start right away.”

“Have him focus on the month before the attack.”

“You got it. Anything else?”

“No. Just be careful and move fast. We don’t have much time.”