Detective Warren met Madison at the foot of the jet’s stairs. The detective, with a few gestures including shrugs and uplifted palms, gave his explanation and, Josh figured, assured Mr. Madison that the police were on top of the disappearance of Ben Lambert’s coffin. After Warren shook hands with Madison and started away, the ex-president walked briskly through the gathered reporters, trailing “no comments” behind him. When he spotted Josh, Madison detoured toward him. “You must be Dr. Pearson. Thanks for meeting me. Come on. We can talk in the limo.”
A man in a navy blue suit, his red hair cut short, a look of utter concentration on his face, strode ahead of Josh and Madison toward a stretch limo idling nearby. Josh realized this was the man who’d preceded Madison through the crowd of reporters, parting them like Moses at the Red Sea. He opened the passenger door, stuck his head inside, and looked around. He did the same for the back of the limousine. Then he stood back and motioned for the two passengers to enter. Once they were inside, the man climbed into the front seat and the car pulled away.
“Who’s that?” Josh asked, indicating the red-haired man who now sat in the passenger seat of the limo.
“That’s Jerry . . . Agent Jerry Lang. He’s the head of my Secret Service detail. I’d better introduce you since you’ll probably be seeing a lot more of him.” Madison leaned forward and tapped on the glass partition separating him from the front seat. When it slid back, he said, “Jerry, this is Dr. Josh Pearson. He’ll be taking over as my personal physician.”
Lang extended his hand across the seat. “Doctor, good to meet you. Can we come by your office tomorrow and dispose of a few formalities before you see Mr. Madison—things we need to know about you and vice-versa?”
“Sure. Shall I—”
“We’ll make the arrangements. Don’t worry.” And Lang slid the panel closed.
“Things moving a bit too fast for you?” Madison smiled. “Get used to it. What Jerry can’t arrange, Karen can.”
“Karen?”
“Karen Marks. She was my chief of staff when I was in the White House, and she followed me into retirement . . . although neither of us seems to have slowed down much.”
“Was she on this flight with you?” Josh asked.
“No, she’ll be coming back later. I’ve returned early because of recent events. And that’s why I wanted you to meet my plane.”
Josh decided he might as well ask the question that had been foremost in his mind since talking with Rachel last night. “Sir, why do you need to see me so urgently?”
Madison looked up to make certain the partition separating them from the driver and Lang was closed. Then he leaned close to Josh and said in a soft voice, “Because I think someone is trying to kill me. And I’ll need your help to make certain they don’t succeed.”
***
Rachel studied her reflection in the mirror in the front hall of her apartment. She wondered if there was any truth in the old wives’ tale about people turning gray overnight. If so, she was an ideal candidate to have at least a few strands show up. She fluffed her short hairdo and saw no light strands among the brown ones—not yet, at least. Her hazel eyes were still a bit red rimmed, but she could fix that with a few drops of Visine. As for the dark circles under them . . . well, maybe a good night’s rest would help. Last night had been full of nightmares. She hoped tonight would be better.
Rachel was going over the events of the past several days in her mind when her doorbell rang. Through the frosted glass panel beside the door, she could see a familiar outline of a tall man with light hair—Josh was here. Last night she hadn’t felt like doing anything but relaxing in a hot bath and trying to put recent events out of her mind. Today, she was ready to lay out the story in detail to see if her fears were reasonable or simply the product of an overactive imagination.
Rachel opened the door for Josh. “I’m glad to see you.”
“Me, too,” he said. Still standing in the open doorway, he enfolded her in an embrace that seemed to last forever. He bent down to kiss her, and without thinking she responded. When she realized what she was doing, she pulled back. I let myself get carried away at the airport. I’ve got to be careful—certainly until Josh knows the whole story.
She took Josh by the hand and they walked together into the living room.
“I don’t ever want you to be gone like that again,” Josh said.
“And I don’t want to experience anything like what I’ve been through.”
As though by common consent, they moved to the couch and sat side by side. “I’ve had an interesting and sort of unnerving conversation with Mr. Madison,” Josh said.
“Tell me about it.”
He hitched himself closer and put his arm around her. “He thinks someone is trying to kill him. It seems that, although he’s no longer in office, he wields a great deal of influence, both here and abroad. There are people who don’t want him to exercise that influence. And in the past several years he’s done things that made a number of people hate him—some apparently enough to try to kill him.”
Rachel coughed. “Excuse me.” She took a few deep breaths. “In other countries?”
Josh shook his head. “Not only in other countries.”
Rachel thought about that. “You mean—”
“Yes, there are people in the U.S., as well as throughout the world, who’d like to see David Madison out of the picture . . . totally.”
“That’s probably true of all former presidents,” Rachel said.
“I gather it’s truer of Mr. Madison than most of the previous ones,” Josh replied.
He went on to explain that Madison had learned of a couple of projected attempts on his life that had never come to fruition. “The latest was a plan to assassinate him while he was making a public appearance. The local police nipped that in the bud. There have also been rumored attempts to infect him with anthrax or something equally deadly. I think that’s why he feels so dependent on his personal physician.”
Rachel paused to cough again and clear her throat. “And since Dr. Lambert is dead, now that responsibility is yours.”
“I guess,” Josh said. “One more thing I probably should share with you. Madison thinks someone may have killed Dr. Lambert.”
“Josh, that man had a heart attack. He was in the bathroom just off the room at the church where we were eating lunch. We heard him fall. I helped give him CPR.”
“I’m going to have to do some research, but as I recall, there are drugs that can cause a death that’s clinically indistinguishable from a heart attack. And remember, Ben’s body disappeared from the airport.”
“What—”
“Normally an autopsy would confirm whether Ben died of natural causes,” Josh said. “But now, there’s no body. That means no autopsy.”
***
The waiter moved silently away, leaving Josh and Rachel alone in a quiet corner of the restaurant. Josh reached across the table and put his hand atop Rachel’s. He’d planned this evening since the time Rachel left. Now it was finally here.
After the limo had delivered Josh and Madison to the former president’s home, Lang asked another agent to drive the doctor back to Love Field for his car. By the time he’d made it to Rachel’s apartment and told