Pretenses Chapter 9

WHITE HOUSE Chief of Staff Armando Glover asked me if I was ready to meet the President of the United States. We were standing outside the Commander in Chief's office. It was an awesome question. How many Americans actually meet the President in the Oval Office?

I was wearing an olive suit, a white blouse, and olive shoes. I looked myself over in the small makeup mirror I carried in my purse.

"You look like a million bucks," Chief Glover told me.

I didn't feel like a million bucks, but the compliment felt good. I took a deep breath and nodded to the chief of staff. He opened the door for me, and I stepped onto the thick navy blue carpet. Suddenly, I was nervous. The president was talking to Director St. Clair.

"Special Agent Perry, the President of the United States," Chief Glover said.

The president shook my hand firmly and led me to a chair in front of his desk.

"No need to be nervous, Agent Perry." He smiled. "Director St. Clair tells me that Sydney Drew is your father."

Presidents always have their researchers find out small, almost insignificant details about the people meeting them for the first time. It makes the visitor feel important.

"Yes."

"They tell me he used to work for the National Security Agency," the president went on. "So what's he doing now?"

"He runs Drew Perry Investigative Firm with my husband, Keyth, sir."

"Nothing wrong with putting the training we gave him to good use." He smiled. "Tell me, what do you think about this case?"

"Well, sir, we don't have much to go on, but I'm sure Director St. Clair told you that this morning."

"He did. But what I'm interested in now is what you've extrapolated from the crime scene. What's your best guess, Phoenix?"

"I think the judge was the target. I haven't gotten any results from the crime lab yet, but Webster Taylor doesn't have any bruises on him. And since he doesn't, then he was probably killed just because he was there."

President Davidson folded his arms and leaned against his desk. "Do you think any hate groups are involved?"

"Unlikely, sir."

"Why not?" He seemed disappointed.

"Hate groups want you to know they did it and why. And none of them are taking credit for the murders, not yet anyway. But I'll check them out anyway, sir."

He looked at his watch. "In about five minutes I'm going to have a press conference on the White House lawn. I'm going to introduce you as the person running the show. The press is going to have many questions, and there will be lots of pressure on you, Phoenix. Can you handle it?"

"Certainly, sir, but it's always been the bureau's policy to let someone from the public relations office handle the press."

"I know, but today is going to be different," he said with determination. "A lot of people didn't want Taylor on the court because she's black. Did you know that, Phoenix?"

"No, sir, I didn't. But I'm not surprised." I hadn't meant to say that last part, but it found its way out of my mouth.

"That's another reason I requested you to work this case. I want the killer to know that I will not be thwarted."

Oh, great. Now I'm going to be put on parade for the cause.

"I want a black woman right up there with me. I want them to see that this administration is going to find and promote well-qualified minorities and put them in positions where their strengths and talents can do the most good for this nation."

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