Chaos Theory (continued)

by Montiese McKenzie

In the Fall issue we saw the next three installments of the Chos Theory series. This issue brings us Parts 5 and 6. Chaos Theory will conclude in the next issue.

PART 5 -- Old Ghosts

Rain greeted Rachel when she opened her eyes on Monday morning. She lay there for a while, not moving a muscle, thinking of her aunt. The weekend passed with no information on Natalie's whereabouts. She was out there somewhere but Rachel did not know if she would ever return. All the programs she watched on Investigation Discovery Channel; people disappeared and never came home. There were no clues, no information, and no body…no closure for her family. Dan stirred beside her, pulling her close as they lay in the spoon position.

“You shouldn't be here.” She whispered. “I've taken you away from important things that you have to do.”

“Hey, look at me Rachel.”

She turned around, focusing on his drowsy brown eyes.

“Natalie is one of my best friends in the world and I am worried sick about her. And you…”

“What about me?” she asked.

“I never want to see you cry anything but tears of joy.”

Dan kissed her and she wrapped her arms around him. Their soft, tentative kisses quickly turned passionate. Rachel moaned as her body rubbed against his. She could feel his reaction to having her so close and it excited her.

“Oh Rachel.”

She undressed him, his tee shirt and boxers thrown on the floor. Her lips moved down to taste as much of his skin as she could reach. Dan ran his fingers through her hair; she made him feel so good. He had fantasized about this moment for so long…recently it controlled his thoughts. Dan pulled her back to him and they kissed again.

“I want you so much.” He whispered.

“I need you Dan.” Rachel took off her tee shirt. “Don't let go.”

The lovemaking was gentle, though neither expected it to be so. The situation was desperate and painful, but Dan moved slowly inside of her, whispering how she made him feel in her ear.

“You're so amazing. I am in complete awe of you.”

“Don't stop Dan.” She whimpered. “Oh God.”

They rolled over and Rachel was on top. She rocked her hips, crying out as Dan thrust into her. She moved faster, moaning as the feelings overwhelmed her.

“Dan!”

Crying out his name, they climaxed together. The room fell silent except for the sound of their breathing. Dan stroked her back as she lay on top of him.

“I don't know what to say.” Rachel whispered, falling onto the mattress.

“You don't have to say anything.” Dan turned to look at her, taking her face in his hands.

“I have to go to the White House and you need to go to Philadelphia .”

“I'm taking the bullet train there this afternoon. I will not miss the Vice-President's speech.”

Rachel nodded, getting out of bed and going into the bathroom. Dan was not sure how to take her changed body language in the wake of their intimacy. He took a deep breath and followed her.

***

“Your assistant Joel said it was OK. Is it?”

Stephen Holmes walked into Diana's office on Tuesday morning. She and Melinda Harper were wrapping up a briefing; the Chief of Staff looked as if she had not slept in days. Natalie Carmichael had been missing for four days; her loved ones did their best to hold on to hope of her safe return.

“You know Melinda Harper, right?” Diana asked. “She's Undersecretary of Defense.”

“Good to see you again Special Agent Holmes.” Melinda shook his hand.

“Melinda is going to sit in…you don't mind do you?”

“No. We found Orlando Garcia, Diana. At least we think we did.”

“Don't leave me in suspense Stephen.” Diana chugged coffee. “I don't have the strength.”

“The Orlando Garcia who came closest to the composite was picked out of a photo array by Sharon Archer's coworker. If he is our guy, it seems he was once a henchman for Eduardo Carvente.”

“Who?” Diana asked.

“Did you say Eduardo Carvente?” Melinda asked.

“You know him?”

“Big time drug dealer in the late 80s and early 90s. He had a straight line to cocaine, PCP, and most likely ecstasy. It was the real Miami Vice…a lot of action.”

“Weren't you an operative in the CIA?” Diana asked.

Melinda's history with the organization was fuzzy at best. They conducted their business that way. Even as White House Chief of Staff, Diana Hettinger did not have real access to her dossier.

“I did some work for the CIA, yes. I was deep in the Miami drug trade at that time. Connections to Panama , Colombia , and Nicaragua ; drugs, weapons, bombs, slaves…you name it. Carvente was seriously big time. He even had three or four politicians…” Melinda stopped talking suddenly and the room shrank in size. Diana felt as if she could hardly breathe.

“What is it?” Special Agent Holmes asked.

“In 1990, the DNC sent an exploratory group there to investigate and breakup the corruption in Miami-Dade County and some of the surrounding districts. Jack Carmichael was part of that group.”

“Why didn't the FBI know that?” Diana asked.

“They might.” Stephen replied. “I'm not running the Carmichael investigation and it might not have raised any red flags. I shouldn't comment.”

“The politicians were in as deep as I was, for different reasons.” Melinda said. “Two of them, Congressman Dale Beecher and Congressman Skip Patrick, were arrested. Beecher rolled and started naming names. The dealers he snitched on were not nickel and dime. They were running drugs, guns, and prostitutes, and had strong South and Central American ties.

“The Miami-Dade Police investigation would have impeded a CIA sting that went on for over a year. There was a major gun and cocaine shipment coming into the port of Miami from Cuba on speedboats. The locals got antsy and pulled a raid on Carvente's mansion; figuring they could bring him down on the stash already in his possession. During the raid, Carvente's wife Angeline was accidentally shot and killed.”

“Oh my God. You think Carvente may blame Jack for that?” Diana asked.

“It doesn't have to make sense for it to be so.” Melinda replied. “Carvente was going to get his revenge one way or another. Someone murdered Beecher in jail before he could testify in a huge corruption trial that was supposed to bring major drug dealers down. I wouldn't be surprised if he gave up Jack before they disemboweled him… Beecher certainly didn't have a spine.”

“Why now?” Stephen asked. “This happened 17 years ago.”

“Carvente was doing 15 years on a variety of drugs, weapons, and corruption charges. They never found enough to put him away for life. He lost everything under RICO statutes. There was plenty of time to sit back and plan revenge. He also had friends on the outside.”

“This is insane.” Diana said. “I cannot believe I am hearing this.”

“Anything you want to tell me about a former big time drug dealer killing prominent politicians?” Stephen asked.

“I don't know anything about that.” Melinda replied. They could never be sure what she knew and did not. Once CIA, always CIA. “None of those four people were involved in the corruption case to my knowledge.”

Stephen stood up; he had new phone calls to make. This case suddenly took a completely new shape and for the first time in a long time, the veteran agent feared he might be in over his head. He would have to talk to Jack Carmichael and get his input on what happened in Miami seventeen years ago.

“I have to go; my day just got much harder.”

“Keep me informed, Stephen.”

“You bet. Thank you for your help Melinda.”

Melinda nodded as the weary agent left the Chief of Staff's office.

“Melinda, how dangerous is Eduardo Carvente?”

“He is deadly. He has so many underworld connections and has always been a ghost. Natalie is in very grave danger if Eduardo Carvente has anything to do with her disappearance. I wish I didn't have to tell you something like that but it's true.”

***

President McDevitt went to the residence to have dinner with her daughters on Tuesday evening. The Secret Service solved the disappearance of Jessica and Juliette easily, but not before the twins caused fear, worry, and panic. The twins managed to sneak out and head to a friends' house in Woodley Park for a party. The party was unsupervised, since the Secret Service was not prepared to call the host's 18-year-old brother a chaperone. Especially when they found him and his friends smoking a bong and throwing back brews in his bedroom. They found the kids, 15 in all, in the basement.

No one had drugs or alcohol. Most were eating pizza, drinking soda, and playing video games. Agents quietly escorted Juliette and Jessica from the house and took them back to the residence. Their mother went ballistic on them. They got a serious verbal lashing and punishment until the end of the Administration. The girls did not know if she was serious but for the time being there was no television, no music, and no after school activities. If they felt they were prisoners and needed to escape, as Jessica so eloquently put it, Claire would treat them as such.

“Good evening girls.” Claire sat at the table.

Juliette's greeting was amiable enough but Jessica said nothing. She was so damn defiant…Claire suddenly knew what her mother went through with her.

“I've been thinking for the past several days and have come to a few decisions. Obviously you two are not happy and that bothers me. I only want to do what's best for you.”

Juliette picked at her spaghetti as her sister finally spoke up.

“Our lives have never been normal…you're important mom. I mean, people know you and we have always had Secret Service protection. This is just too much for me to handle right now. I cannot even sneeze unescorted.”

“How do you feel Jules?”

“It was dumb to sneak out, though easier than I thought it would be. We just want to be ourselves and hang out with our friends.”

“I know that, but the rules are in place for your safety. No one wants to stifle you and I am sorry that it has to be this way.”

“You promised to tell the Gestapo to lighten up.” Jessica said.

“Why would I do that when my daughter is becoming a mastermind in defying the rules and escaping her detail? I bet you have every secret passage in this place memorized. You probably have them mapped.”

“Mom…”

“What if something would have happened Jessica?” Claire asked. “Not worse case scenario, but something serious? What would you have done?”

“Pressed the panic button.” Jules replied.

“Yeah, except the Secret Service was not there because they thought you are in bed. Look, I have come to a few decisions.”

“Do any of these decisions involve me getting my IPod back?” Jessica asked.

“Don't press your luck with me little girl; I am so angry at you. I know that none of us is happy with the current situation. Here is what I propose. You can stay here with me, under Secret Service protection, which is sometimes going to be heavy. Another option going to California to stay with Uncle Charlie and Aunt Grace until the Administration is over. There is a great day school out there.”

“Secret Service?” Jessica asked.

“Of course, but the situation is different. It is a new environment where people will not know you through your mother. Your Uncle and Aunt would be glad to have you. The third option is Hotchkiss.”

“Boarding school?” Jules' eyes went wide.

“Yes. It is in Connecticut and it is coed. You would be able to interact with both boys and girls your age with similar interests. I attended the school when there were about three African-American kids there, now its 28%. You would have free reign on the 500-acre campus. The Secret Service would still be there but the school is quite secure and not just anyone can walk around campus.”

“The illusion of freedom.” Jessica replied.

“You are 12 years old, though you seem to be going on 25. How much freedom do you think I am going to give you Jessica, as a responsible parent?”

“Don't send us away mom.” Jules begged. “I'm staying here. Can you just tell me how long this punishment is going to last?”

“Indefinitely. Jessica?”

“I would like some time to think about it.”

“Fair enough. I love you both very much and your happiness is important. But you are not going to run afoul of me and make up the rules as you go along…it is unacceptable. I have to go back to the Oval Office.”

“Mom, if I stay here can I have my IPod back?”

“Jessica, eat your dinner. When I get back I want to see homework.”

“Yes ma'am.”

***

Peyton Doyle poured Special Agent Holmes a cup of coffee and left him and Jack in the den. In the wake of the kidnapping, Jack sent his younger children away with their nanny and a Secret Service detail. He told them that their mother had to go away for work and she would be back as soon as she could be. Peyton, Jack's only child from his first marriage, dropped everything to come and care for her father since he would not let Kevin stay. There was work to be done at the White House and with both he and Natalie gone, the President needed every available hand.

Jack kept his friends at arm's length, suffering alone. Just that afternoon, more graphic photos of his wife arrived in his inbox, including a series of photos that depicted her being gang raped. The message read ‘ Time's almost up; the light of your life is fading .' She was battered and bruised; her eyes still covered with a dirty blindfold. The photos disturbed Jack so much that his daughter gave him something to help him sleep while she called the FBI. He had only been awake a half-hour when Stephen Holmes arrived.

“I know this is a dumb question Jack, but how are you holding up?”

Peyton came through the room once more, taking the cigarette from between her father's lips and the pack from the coffee table. He smoked too much these past four days…she was very concerned about his health. Another heart attack would surely kill him. What would happen to her half-brother and sister if they lost both of their parents?

She never found too many kind words for Natalie, who was only 10 years older than she was, since Jack married her seven years ago. Thinking about what could be happening to her stepmother now made Peyton ill. It also made her realize how deep her father's love was for his wife. She wanted to take every negative word back.

“I've made it through another day.” Jack replied. “All I care about is getting Nat back and your colleagues don't seem to know a damn thing.”

“I read in the file that they found the van.” Stephen said.

“Burnt to a crisp in a lot in Baltimore . There was not a drop of physical evidence. They are right back where they started. Which is nowhere, in case you were keeping score. ”

“A license plate could lead to a name. Jack, I cannot pretend to know what you are going through but…”

“What do you need Stephen? If this is going to help Natalie then I am at your disposal. You wouldn't happen to smoke, would you?”

“Yes sir I do, but I am not giving you a cigarette. My wife is a redhead just like your daughter and I am well acquainted with their tempers. Jack, do you remember a political corruption case in Miami around 1990? The DNC sent you with a team down there to get to the bottom of it.”

“I remember the assignment but not much of the trip. I was heavy into drinking and drugs then…almost at rock bottom.”

“Does the name Eduardo Carvente ring a bell? Or Dale Beecher?”

“ Beecher was a Congressman in the Florida 02. He was waist deep in a plethora of illegal activities. He also had a penchant for cocaine that got him into more trouble than even I got into in those days. He died I think, no he was murdered before he could testify in a drug and corruption trial. If memory serves, he was disemboweled. Someone was very afraid of what he might say. Why are you asking me about this? That was another lifetime.”

Stephen told Jack the story that Melinda Harper told him that morning. Most of the day was spent putting the pieces together. Though he was no closer to solving the why of the poisonings, he was almost positive Carvente was responsible. He was also most likely behind the disappearance of Natalie Carmichael, though that information brought authorities no closer to finding her. Orlando Garcia was the key…the FBI needed to locate him and sweat the plan out of him. Stephen Holmes hoped to do that before Natalie was murdered. He knew all about the pictures emailed that afternoon.

“You are sitting here telling me that someone I don't even know blames me for his wife's death and took my wife as payback.”

“That's what it's looking like right now.” Stephen nodded.

“I don't even know him!” Jack exclaimed.

“You cracked the corruption case. People went to federal prison, did serious time, some were even murdered…Carvente lost his wife and his livelihood. Do not believe that I think that you are responsible. I am just telling you what we know. It doesn't have to make sense to be right.”

“Have you found Carvente?” Jack asked.

“No.” Stephen shook his head.

“So you don't have a damn thing?”

“We have names Jack, we have motives, and we have last knowns. I want to promise you that we will find Natalie in time but I cannot do that.”

“You just find those bastards who took her and bring my wife back home. I don't need your promises; I need results.”

Stephen nodded. He left soon after and Jack sat on the couch staring into space. He barely remembered Miami but results of his actions there would now cost him everything. If Carvente killed Natalie he knew he would cease to breathe. They had to find her in time.

***

“You can't sleep either.”

Ben came into the living room, sitting on the couch with his wife. Diana was curled under a blanket, smoking a cigarette and nursing what appeared to be a gin and tonic. It was almost 3am; the rain that plagued the city for the past several days began to taper. The condo was so quiet…neither Michael nor baby Julie woke up as they usually did in the middle of the night. Diana wished she had the distraction.

She missed Natalie so much and did not know if they would ever see each other again. They were not even supposed to be here…their dues were paid. Years of hard work and personal sacrifice were their White House years. No one deserved to be kidnapped, tortured and murdered, least of all Natalie Carmichael. This was Washington , DC for Christ's sake, not Beirut .

“I have to go to the White House everyday as if things are alright. They are not even close to being alright.”

“I know.”

Ben did not discuss Natalie's disappearance with his wife. There was a sadness and anger in him that was difficult to control. For the past five days since she did not come home from work, Ben walked through life like an automaton. He did not laugh, or smile; he didn't even yell at people. His light dimmed with each passing day and Diana feared not only losing her best friend, but her husband. Her fear was palpable.

“How are you feeling Ben?” she asked.

“OK. I'm not sleeping much but I'm OK. Diana…” He stopped and she looked at him.

“Just talk to me. ” she said. “Say whatever you need to say.”

“I'm scared that some madman is going to kill Natalie. I'm scared that her death will destroy me. I don't…I need you to try and understand.”

“Understand what?”

“That how much I love her does not negate how much I love you. I don't want you thinking…”

“Stop.” She reached out and touched his thigh. “First of all, you and Natalie have been friends for 20 years and I understand that. Secondly, I am not going to allow you to give up hope. I pray every single day for her safe return. Until we know different, that is what we hold onto, OK?”

“Yeah.”

“Benjamin, I'm being serious.”

“I know.” He sighed. “I'm trying, sugar. Jack isn't telling me what's happening anymore. He can't possibly think that he's grieving anymore than the rest of us.”

“She is his wife; they spent everyday of the last seven years together. She birthed two of his children. You cannot compare his experience to your own, it's not fair. I wish he wasn't pushing us away too but it's certainly understandable. The FBI thinks they know who is responsible. Please don't give up hope.”

Ben pulled her to him, burying his face in the crook of Diana's neck. Just the way she smelled was a comfort to him. He loved his wife completely but had something with Natalie Carmichael that went beyond that…he could not even put it into words. Benjamin Hettinger was speechless, how was that possible? Maybe if he could find the words to express himself the heaviness would leave his body.

Perhaps his brain would not have to work so hard just to put one foot in front of the other. His greatest fear was that once he unleashed the rage there would be no way to control the fallout. It was his fear and anger that kept him going; got him out of bed every morning. If he let go of it Ben was sure there would be nothing left. He was sure he wouldn't survive.

***

Jack dialed the number, sitting back on the couch. He lived in that one room for almost a week. Everything else reminded him too much of his wife. Her photos, her clothes, her decorations; the smell of her permeated the walls. If he could go and stay at a hotel then he would but he was under heavy Secret Service protection. He did not need the protection, Nat did, and he failed her. Whether she was found dead or alive, Jack would never forgive himself for his part in what happened to her.

“Hello.”

“Hi. I didn't want to call but…”

“Don't be silly Jack. I've watched the news coverage. Are they any closer to finding her?”

“No. This is all my fault…my past is the cause of this.”

“What are you talking about?” Former Vice-President Timothy Garrison asked.

“Some ridiculous 1990 Florida corruption case led to the murder of a kingpin's wife. He blames me.”

“Jesus, I don't know what to say. You know my heart goes out to you and I am praying for Natalie.”

“What am I going to do if she doesn't come home?”

“Don't ask me that. You shouldn't even be thinking like that.”

“Everyone tells me not to give up Tim. Everyone wants to hug me and make me feel better. How the hell am I supposed to feel better?”

“A drink is not going to help if that's what you're thinking. Natalie would be so angry with you.”

“Don't say that to me. Let some lunatic snatch your wife off a public street and then say that. Let the greatest investigative force in the country tell you they have nothing and then say that.”

“And you think getting blitzed is going to be helpful? Just tell me how and I won't talk you out of it. How is breaking almost a decade of sobriety going to make you feel better?”

“I don't want to feel better…I don't want to feel anything. Peyton took my cigarettes. She thinks I am smoking too much.”

“I'm sure you are.” Tim replied. “How are you feeling Jack, physically? Are you ignoring any pain? Are you sleeping at all?”

“Tim, you are my sponsor, not my doctor.”

“You need to see your doctor. You have to stay as healthy as you can. Is Peyton still there with you?”

“I am not letting you talk to her…you two are not putting me in some hospital. I'm fine. Except I need a cigarette and a glass of scotch.”

“Maybe I'll just come over so we can talk.”

“I don't want to talk.” Jack mumbled.

“You do want to talk, that's why you called. Just let me come over for a while. I don't know what I can do…I can sit with you. Jack, how long do you think the Clint Eastwood, go it on your own routine is going to hold up?”

“I know about you and Natalie.”

Tim was silent for a few minutes. Jack heard him take a deep breath.

“There was no me and Natalie. It was a long time ago and it has nothing to do with anything. We were virtual strangers then and she hadn't even met you yet. Despite everything, I consider her a friend and you too Jack.”

“I'm sorry Tim. Jesus, I don't know what made me bring that up.”

“Forget it; you have a lot on your mind. Look, I don't care if we play backgammon but you are not going to be alone anymore.”

“Even if I say no you are going to come anyway so what is the use of fighting.”

“That's the spirit. I can be there in a half hour. Let the Secret Service know I'm coming…I don't want to end up on my back with 12 guns in my face.”

“Yeah. Thank you.”

“For what? I'm your sponsor; I'm doing what was done for me too many times to count.”

Jack hung up the phone, running his fingers through his hair. He was at the end of a cliff, dirt and rock crumbling beneath his feet. He knew the secret place where his wife kept her liquor; he could easily pour himself something and start the process of forgetting. But he didn't want to forget her. He wanted to remember Natalie in his mind…keep her in the forefront of his thoughts. His hope and love were keeping her alive, Jack truly believed that. If he let that slip away with the liquor, she would slip away too.

Part 6 -- Jane Doe

‘One week ago today, Natalie Carmichael, former White House Chief of Staff, looked forward to a weekend with her husband and children. She worked hard for the current Administration as Senior Advisor to President Claire McDevitt in the wake of the poisoning death of President-elect Richard Serrano on Inauguration Day. Mrs. Carmichael stopped at the office of Chief of Staff Diana Hettinger and the women talked for at least 10 minutes about weekend plans and Monday morning meetings. At 7:35, Mrs. Carmichael signed out of the White House, chatting amiable with security as she always did. She did not use her car service on the drizzly evening, instead walking over a block to the 24-hour Caribbean market where she purchased a bottle of mango juice and a pack of Twizzlers. The young woman at the register was the last to see Natalie Carmichael.

She walked out into the chilly Washington night and disappeared. Seven days later, and the FBI, along with the Metro Police Department have no trace of her. There was no ransom call, and no fringe group has claimed responsibility for the disappearance. Natalie Carmichael is just gone without a trace. After this amount of time, authorities usually give up on finding a live victim but the FBI refuses to give up that hope. With very little to work with, they are tirelessly searching for clues and witnesses in the strange disappearance. Many women vanish off American streets…this is not unheard of.

But how does the wife of one of the world's most prominent men walk into thin air? She was also famous in her own right. As she was poised to become the first female Press Secretary to serve two terms, her husband's near fatal brain aneurysm made her the first female White House Chief of Staff. Why was she not under Secret Service protection? Particularly in the wake of three unsolved poisoning murders, including that of the President-elect.

Much scrutiny has fallen on that agency in the wake of those deaths. Could Natalie Carmichael be another victim of the Secret Service's incompetence? Perhaps her disappearance is related to something much more sinister. Family and friends just want answers because at the end of the day Mrs. Carmichael is a wife and a mother with two young children who is very missed by her loved ones.'

Jack clicked off the TV as they started to flash pictures of his wife. Wedding photos, shots with the President, greeting foreign dignitaries and in her beloved pressroom. They even had those paparazzi shots of her and the children. He would not sit there and look at his wife smiling back at him…it was slowly killing him.

Timothy was right; Jack needed to see his doctor. He was afraid though; afraid he might really die this time. He planned to stay right where he was until his wife was back at his side. The hope was still there, even after seven long days. The FBI had more information than ever; they just had to find her.

“Dad?”

“Hmm?” Jack looked up at Peyton, smiling a bit as he realized she looked more like her mother everyday. His smile faded when he thought of his three-year-old daughter. Krissy had his eyes and hair color but her face was all Natalie. He was glad he sent the kids away from this insanity.

“Dad, you have to try to eat something.”

“I'm not hungry.” He replied. Jack didn't feel hungry…he didn't feel anything.

“I'm sure you don't think you are, but please try. You haven't been eating and it's scaring me OK? I only made you half a chicken sandwich with a glass of cranberry juice. Please dad.”

Jack nodded, reaching to squeeze her hand.

“Come and sit beside me.”

Peyton sat, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“You've gone above and beyond for me. ” he whispered.

“Don't be silly; you are my father. I just wish it was not under these circumstances that we were close again.”

“Let's just be happy that we're close.” Jack hugged her.

“I love you daddy.” Peyton held her tears back.

“I love you too.”

***

“I used my mother's recipe but I can't be sure it will taste anything like hers.”

“Its OK honey. We have nothing to compare it to.”

They laughed as Martin kissed Maggie's cheek. The new Press Secretary was hosting a dinner party. It felt surreal to be doing this while Nat was missing but they had to do something. She pulled out her mother's famous pot roast recipe, Martin bought three bottles of white wine and they invited their friends over to the condo they now shared. Diana, Kevin, Katherine, and Nick tried to make the most of another rainy Saturday night.

“I think its good Maggie.” Nick said. “It tastes better than my mother's. Don't tell her I said so.”

“I promise.”

There was plenty to say, but no one knew where to start. They were all going through the motions at the White House and no one wanted to discuss politics anyway. A relative calm fell considering how the President came into office. On the fringes of that calm, while the country ran like a well-tuned machine, several investigations were slowly going nowhere in an attempt to capture murderers, kidnappers, and conspirators.

Everyday the staff fell deeper into something that started to resemble a television mini-series. Maggie was having more difficulty reigning in the press as questions varied on everything to kidnapping, the Secret Service, the President's planned trip to Japan and Claire McDevitt's sexual orientation. That last one was coming around again; it was not as if Maggie could just say don't ask, don't tell. At her last meeting with the President, Claire smirked at the whole line of questioning.

“I've been out of the closet since I was 19 Maggie and I have no intention of ever climbing back in. If they did not want a gay President, they should have never voted for a gay Vice-President. Everyone knows that I am gay; they just want me to say it aloud to make it a story. If push comes to shove, I will come out again, just for you. It's the least I can do for your ultra professional demeanor while dealing with the zoo animals that disguise themselves as the White House Press Corps.”

“Thank you ma'am. I was thinking more of an exclusive interview. Do it in prime time and let it all go.”

“Diane Sawyer?” Claire asked. She was notorious for only talking to the press when she had to. She knew that would not fly as President of the United States but where her personal life was concerned Claire was still making all the rules…she had her daughters to think about.

“No ma'am that will just turn it into something it doesn't need to be. I thought CNN, Wolf Blitzer. That way you can discuss things pertinent to the country while they also throw in questions about the Secret Service and the fact that you like Angelina Jolie a lot more than you like Brad Pitt. Natalie's old friend Lucinda Petrie is Wolf's program manager and I have her on speed dial.”

“Call her. Let's set something up for the next couple of weeks. I want to get it out of the way before the Japan trip.”

“Yes ma'am. Thank you Madame President.”

“By the way, I don't like Brad or Angelina…not my type.”

“Where is Ben tonight?” Kevin asked. “I was expecting to see him.”

“He is not in a sociable mood at the moment.” Diana said. “I can hardly get him to have a conversation with me. Natalie's disappearance is hitting him hard.”

“Has anyone heard from Jack?” Nick asked.

They all shook their heads. Kevin had; he went to the Georgetown house whether he was invited or not. Jack never kicked him out…he needed him there even if he would never say.

“He is in a bad way and everyday it gets a bit harder. I was there last night; Dateline ran the story. I wish there was something I could do for him.”

Katherine squeezed his hand as he choked up. Kevin remained stoic.

“What do you mean he's in a bad way?” Martin asked.

“He um…he looked like he did right before the aneurysm. I didn't know what to say to him. Peyton and I talked before I left; she wants to have him admitted to the hospital.”

“He won't go.” Diana said.

“Of course he won't.” Maggie said. “He is one of the most stubborn men I know.”

“Is he willing to die to remain stubborn?” Martin asked.

“His wife is missing and he is sick with worry.” Nick said. “I know he has to feel some guilt too, about this Carvente thing.”

“We all miss her.” Diana poured herself another glass of wine. “I can hardly concentrate or sleep at night. The authorities have so much information but don't know a damn thing.”

“I can't talk about this anymore.” Maggie said. “It is all we talk about all day, everyday. I know why but I can't do it tonight. Please guys.”

What else was there to talk about? The whole case engulfed their lives. The press even sought them out to ask questions about conspiracy theories, psychics, and if Natalie just said to hell with her family and left for greener pastures with another man. It was overwhelming for those closest to her. Silence was tolerable tonight, topical conversation a bit better, but as long as the wine kept flowing, they would make it until the end.

***

Rachel thought about dinner as the hour turned late. Some friends invited her out tonight but she did not think she was good company. They were trying to help and were worried about her…Rachel knew that. Still, she was not in the mood for intense discussion about her aunt's disappearance. It was all anyone in Washington talked about.

Eight days passed and Natalie Carmichael was still the top news story. Rachel was glad of that in the sense that no one was forgetting. She was not happy that her aunt was still missing. It had been over a week, the chances of finding her alive grew slimmer every hour. Whatever happened, Rachel, along with the rest of the Cosgroves and Carmichaels, was ready to end this devastating chapter of the family saga. She reached across the coffee table to answer her ringing cell phone.

“Hello.”

“Hey Rachel, its Dan Kagan.”

“Hi Dan Kagan; did you think I wasn't going to recognize your voice. Where are you tonight?”

“ Atlanta . The Vice-President spoke at Morehouse College and received a standing ovation.”

“I'm glad to hear it. I saw you on the news yesterday; brush your hair.”

“Yes ma'am.” Dan laughed. “How are you doing?”

“I don't know. I feel alone and sometimes as if I am in a surreal dream. Everything moves slowly and I'm not sure if it is me or the Earth's axis slowing down. You know what I thought about tonight?”

“What?”

“I am so glad my grandfather is no longer alive. He would never be able to handle something like this. The lack of answers would have driven him insane.”

“Yeah. I wish I could be there with you right now. I really do.”

“Dan, I…” Rachel stopped and cleared her throat. There was silence on the other end for so long; Dan thought he lost the connection.

“Rachel? Hello, are you still there?”

“Yeah, I was just going to start crying that's all.”

“Oh sweetheart, you should not be alone. Isn't there someone you can call?”

“I want to be alone. I get tired of having to explain my emotions to people, or even worse, be expected to hide them. Why do people act so surprised that I am upset?”

“Because contrary to all that stuff you watch on Investigation Discovery, there are not many families who go through this.”

“Dan, I wish you were here too and I'm sorry I was cross with you before you left.”

“You weren't cross. I'm man enough to admit it hurt to be pushed away but I know why. You are going through a distressing time and I have to be understanding. You're not going to push me away when I come back, are you?”

“I never want to push you away.” Rachel whispered.

“Good. I bought you a tee shirt.”

She laughed, sniffing and wiping away the last of her tears.

“You can be so sweet sometimes.” She replied.

“Your aunt said that to me once. More than once.”

“She is a great judge of character. I miss her so much and I just want her back.”

“Ditto. I want to see you smile again.”

“Sean is going to walk into the room and make fun of you for being sappy. You would deserve it.”

“I should go anyway. Call me whenever you need me, you know that I'm here.”

“You're very busy.” Rachel reasoned.

“If you don't put the people you love the most first, then what is the point? I've learned that lesson the hard way too many times. Call me tomorrow to check in and if not I'm calling you.”

“Am I people you love the most, Dan Kagan?”

“Yes. I thought that was obvious. People tell me I have a tendency to be obvious.”

“Stop it.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I miss you too much.”

“I miss you too. Goodnight Rachel.”

“Goodnight.”

She flipped her phone closed and went to the kitchen to find food. Rachel smiled for the first time in a long while. She was anxious for Dan to come home so she could put her arms around him. So he could put his arms around her.

***

The head of the Presidential detail walked into the Oval Office, sitting when the President did. They only had about 15 minutes to chat. Emily's schedule was tighter than a violin bow today and Claire never crossed her on tight schedule days. At 2:30, she would be meeting for a photo op and jersey presentation with the undefeated University of Pennsylvania girl's field hockey team. They went 13-0, going down in the books with a perfect season. Starting this Saturday, they would be going for the national championship; Dartmouth was their first opponent.

“Tell me something good Jay. I think I deserve it.”

“The Weather Channel says we will finally dry out by Wednesday.” Jay replied.

“You're kidding me, right? Now you have jokes…I must really be in trouble.”

Jay gave her a small smile.

“Madame President, we had about 350 Agent files to sift through in reference to the poisoning case. 1/3 of that number has been screened carefully by the Department of Treasury and then the FBI before being ruled out.”

“Tell me what the criteria are. What are the red flags?”

“Money is a good start. Any recent trips, particularly to the Miami area. Problems in their sheets or their personal lives. We plan to leave nothing to chance but this process is going to take time.”

“I understand. What matters most is that the people responsible are apprehended. Take the time and get it right.”

“Yes ma'am. I know your time is limited so I'll brief you on what we know so far. Orlando Garcia is responsible for the procuring of the Amilcilixin. Whoever he worked with in the Secret Service poisoned the four victims. President-elect Serrano was the intended target…we still have no idea why the other three were poisoned. Special Agent Holmes and I believe it was to throw us off the trail. It managed to do that for a while. Garcia used to be a henchman for drug kingpin Eduardo Carvente, but we cannot find a connection between the two since Carvente's release from prison a few years ago.”

“That doesn't mean there isn't one.” Claire said.

“No.” Jay shook his head. “In fact, we know there is. We showed Garcia's mug shot around the White House and the Hill and he was recognized as a pretzel vendor who recently pulled up stakes. He is Carvente's right hand. After they got their poison, they put the second plan in motion.”

“The kidnapping of Natalie Carmichael.”

“Yes. While there is no obvious connection between these crimes, there has to be something. The cast of characters is the same. We find Garcia and it will all crumble like a house of cards. I think we are very close.”

“I hope so. Keep up the hard work Jay, and keep me informed.” Claire stood and so did he.

“Thank you Madame President.”

He left and Claire went to the intercom.

“How much time do I have?” she asked Emily.

“Seven minutes, give or take.”

“Alright. I will go to the ladies room and then straight to the Mural Room. Is Maggie there already?”

“ Cam is there ma'am.”

Cameron Fields was one of Maggie's two new deputies. He used to handle briefings for the Minority Whip. Claire liked the kid; he was handsome, funny, and smart. He felt as if he landed the job of a lifetime…had every intention of making his mother and the President proud. He was also openly gay and Claire appreciated that. She usually did not offer her opinion about people's sexual orientation but Cameron was a golden boy. He gave gay a different face to Middle America ; he could be their son. He was their son.

“Am I going to be allowed lunch after this?” she asked. “I'm starving.”

“Yes ma'am. Hurry before you are late. Lunch will be waiting when you come back.”

“Chicken salad.” Claire said.

“Yes Madame President.”

***

Peyton rushed her father to George Washington University Hospital early Monday afternoon. Jack was having difficulty breathing, stomach pains and chest pains. He told Peyton his vision was blurred as they sped away in an SUV. Natalie had been gone 11 days and last night Jack received what they all knew was the last picture. It showed Natalie struggling as a pillow was held over her face. It was still life though; the FBI had no way of knowing if it was staged. They could not even positively identify the woman as Natalie. The message read ‘ She begged for you to save her life but you were too weak. I made sure to let her know who the better man was before I murdered her .'

“60 year old male exhibiting shortness of breath, stomach pains and chest pain. Also complained of blurred vision.”

They wheeled Jack into the emergency room, leaving Peyton behind. One of the agents asked if they should call someone to be there with her. Peyton thought of her mother but knew that would upset Jack. She just shook her head…she would call if she truly needed to.

“Mr. Carmichael, I'm Dr. Chambers. Can you hear me?”

Jack nodded as they put the oxygen mask on him. The nurse said his blood pressure was 142 over 100 and his pulse was 110.

“That's high sir; we need to lower it. Note in the chart that the patient has suffered a brain aneurysm and a mild heart attack.”

Jack kept nodding though he did not feel like listening. He was so tired; could hardly keep his eyes open anymore. It was hard to remember the last sleep he got…it had to be that drug-induced nap Peyton gave him a week ago. There was so much activity around him but after a couple of minutes, there was silence. Jack closed his eyes, letting the blackness engulf him.

“Your father is suffering from exhaustion, dehydration and a lack of nutrients, Ms. Doyle.”

“It's Mrs. Roberts. He's not having another heart attack?” Peyton asked.

“No. He needs a thorough medical examination. I cannot explain the blurred vision but he did not suffer a stroke or an aneurysm. He obviously has not slept in some time and is eating and drinking very little.”

“I'm trying, but the longer his wife is gone, the harder it is. I could not even get him in the shower for the past three days. God, this is awful.”

“Well, that is what hospitals are for. We are going to admit him for 72 hours. We'll put fluids and nutrients in him, monitor his vitals, and put him to sleep.”

“My father is a recovering drug addict. You cannot give him narcotics. I would have done it myself if I could have.”

“There are plenty of sleep agents we use now that have little to no addictive quotients. I think it is important to admit him as soon as possible.”

“I'm not going to argue. I will talk to him; I don't want him lashing out at you for doing your job.”

“Mrs. Roberts, he is too fatigued to lash out at anyone. He is right through that door.”

Peyton went in and looked at her father. Kevin had been right; he looked awful. Jack opened his eyes to see his daughter; his eyelids were so heavy.

“Daddy?”

“Sweetheart.”

“Daddy, we're going to admit you into the hospital and I don't want you to argue with me.”

“What?”

“You are suffering from exhaustion and dehydration. You are killing yourself and I can't help you anymore. We want you to be better.”

“What if Nat…?”

“Shh.” Peyton put her hand on his chest. “Just think about getting better. Let the authorities do their job…making yourself sick is not going to bring her home any sooner. What will Natalie come home to if you don't take care of yourself? What are Jack Jack and Krissy going to come home to?”

“OK.”

Jack did not try to fight; he was just too tired. He wanted to dream because in his dreams he was with Natalie.

***

“Mmm, Benjamin.”

Diana arched her back as her husband worked his mouth and fingers between her thighs. He relished the taste of her, the sounds of her pleasure.

“Oh, oh, oh…my God.”

She quivered, running her hands across his head. Her fingers ran through his black curls, down his neck, and across his naked back. He took a firm hold on her thighs, pushing his fingers deeper inside her and finding her G-spot. His other hand stroked across her stomach, up and over her breasts. Diana could never get enough of the feelings she had when he touched her.

“Ben!” she climaxed and then lay exhausted in the hotel bed.

He kissed his way up her body, all over her perspiring skin. When he kissed her mouth, Diana tasted herself on his lips and tongue. Their kisses were long and deep…Ben growled against her. Diana didn't even withdraw when he bit her lip.

“I love you. Sugar, I love you.”

Diana moaned, her eyes rolling back in her head when their bodies touched, as they hadn't in so long. She didn't need to breathe; she did not want to stop kissing him.

“Diana, do you want me?”

Her legs moved around him, Ben groaning as she thrust up to grind her pelvis against his.

“Yes, yes, oh yes. I need you now.”

“Soon.”

“Now, now.” She was practically begging, knowing how much that turned her husband on. Ben had to try and step back before he lost control…Diana could do that to him. One of the best parts of their relationship was the fine line he walked between passion and loss of control.

It seemed such a long time since she felt this way. They both held back so many feelings because of what was happening. The good and bad sensations were buried so deep inside of them. As much as Diana desired to be close to her husband, she was the one who had been avoiding intimacy. If she allowed herself to be stripped bare, as was always the case when he made love to her, she thought she might crumble to pieces. Now was the time for her mask of strength to stay firmly planted.

Diana could not explain how they ended up in an overpriced room at the Hotel George for what couldn't be more than 90 minutes on a stormy Tuesday afternoon. This rendezvous had nothing to do with afternoon delight. The Hettingers were drifting away from each other and Benjamin had had enough. He loved Diana with his whole heart and soul; he was damn well going to let her know it.

Diana stroked him, hot and hard in the palm of her hand. Ben sucked her earlobe and her neck until she purred his name.

“I love you.” He said again. “I will never stop loving you, I promise.”

“I know.” The tears came and Ben gently wiped them from her face.

He slid inside of her, Diana gasped as she always did. Moving slowly, Ben thrust when he filled her.

“Move.” She commanded. “Now!”

His movements were frantic at first, a bit rough; Diana just held on for the ride. She kept her eyes open and watched Ben's facial expressions change with each height he reached.

“Oh sugar, oh God, you're so good. Oh God, mmm.”

She cried out as she fell over the edge and felt him let go too. When they kissed again, his lips trembled on hers. Then he cried. Ben sobbed, still deep inside of his wife. Diana cried too while holding him close.

“I love you too.” She whispered when the tears ended.

He lay beside her on the bed, on his stomach with his eyes closed. Diana moved closer; knew he loved the comfort of her breasts pressed on the side of his body.

“I don't want to move. I want to lay with you forever.” Wrapping his arms around her, they breathed together. Then a pager went off.

“Back to the salt mines.” Diana grumbled.

“Dammit.”

“Its OK honey, we have much more time. We'll cuddle for the rest of our lives.”

“I would settle for right now.” Ben replied.

They shared one last kiss before getting back to work. The hamster wheel that was life at the White House never stopped spinning.

***

“Dad? Dad, are you awake?”

“Hmm?”

Jack sat up a bit in his hospital bed, trying to adjust his eyes to the light. It was Thursday morning, April 19. The former White House Chief of Staff was well rested, his blood pressure and pulse close to normal, and his fluids and nutrients up. The doctors planned to let him go that afternoon as long as his vitals remained strong. Jack Carmichael felt rejuvenated though thoughts of his wife still filled his mind.

“What time is it?” he asked drowsily.

“A little after nine.” Peyton handed him a glass of water and Jack sipped from it. “Special Agent Holmes is here and would like to talk to you. Are you up to it?”

“Of course, of course.”

Peyton nodded, calling the FBI Agent in with her hand. She sat on the edge of her father's bed as he wiped the last sleep from his eyes. Stephen Holmes tried to smile but as he did Jack's stomach dropped. This was about Natalie…something was definitely wrong.

“Just tell me Stephen.” Jack's voice caught as he tried to breathe.

Peyton took his hand; he was trembling.

“Last night there was a raid in a crack house on the north side. A woman matching Natalie's description was found at the house. It was a place for squatters and a lot of them were there trying to get out of the rain.”

“What are you talking about?” Jack asked. “You don't have to bullshit with me; just say what you need to say.”

“After the raid they found a woman wrapped in a blanket in the back room. She had been stabbed multiple times; once she was stabilized they took her to the hospital.”

“Is she…? Natalie?”

“Does your wife have a four leaf clover tattoo on the small of her back?” Stephen asked.

Jack could barely nod as he began to sob. Peyton looked at the agent.

“Is she dead?” she asked.

“She's alive.”

“She's alive?” Jack wanted to jump out of bed but Peyton stopped him. “I need to see her!”

“Not just yet Jack.”

“What the hell are you talking about? She's been gone almost two weeks. She was right under your fucking noses!”

“It was a dump job…we scoured this entire city looking from Natalie. I need to talk to you about her condition before you make another move.”

Finally, taking a few deep breaths, Jack calmed down some and nodded. Natalie was alive; he clung to that for now.

“Peyton, leave Special Agent Holmes and I alone please?”

“Dad, I'm not sure…”

“Please honey. Nat is alive and I am going to be alright.”

His daughter squeezed his hand before leaving the room. She needed to call her husband; check on her daughter.

“Talk to me Stephen.”

Agent Holmes pulled up a chair, sitting beside the hospital bed.

“Natalie is alive. Her body is battered and bruised; she was stabbed at least seven times. None of the wounds are life threatening but she did lose a fair amount of blood. Her right shoulder is dislocated and her left ankle broken. Two of her ribs are also broken and her hair chopped off. She's dehydrated, malnourished, and they found a significant amount of barbiturates in her bloodstream, most likely tranquilizers.”

He stopped and Jack looked at him hard. There was more; he already knew what it would be but would let Stephen finish.

“Just tell what happened to her Stephen. I don't know if I can handle it but I can try.”

“She was um…she was raped Jack. It was quite brutal. The doctors found both vaginal and anal tears and bruising but the rape kit didn't come back positive for any semen. She has been tested for STDs but it could be days before results of that nature come back. Her vitals are still faint; the doctors were happy she made it through the night. She is going to be heavily sedated for at least the next 48 hours.”

‘Take me to her. I have to see my wife.”

“I understand. She's down the hall. Once Natalie was stabilized, they moved her from Howard Medical Center to GW's secured wing. I'll take you to her.”

He offered to help Jack out of bed but the older man declined. He put on his robe and they walked down the hall. Peyton didn't follow; she knew her father needed this moment. For a few minutes, Jack looked through the glass. He had begun to think he was never going to see her alive again. Walking in, he sat down beside the bed. She looked so frail, broken but still fighting. There were beeping monitors, IVs in every vein. He took her hand in his…her engagement ring and wedding band slipped off. Jack put them in his robe pocket.

“Hey baby. It is so good to see your face. I am so sorry for what I've done to you. All I want is for you to get well. Everyone wants it; everyone who loves you has prayed so hard. I wish to God I had taken you away. This is…I'm so sorry Natalie Ann. Just rest and get better. The people who hurt you are going to pay. I will not stop until they do. I swear on my love for you, and I love you so much. I swear Nat.” he held her hand to his lips, kissing it. “Just come back to me and I will take care of you. I love you so much; I never gave up hope of finding you alive. I never gave up hope.”

Next Issue -- The Conclusion