President Campbell, who expressed great admiration for both men, opted to feature both paintings in the room and instructed the staff to alternate the artworks’ positions so that they equally shared the position of prestige.
“Good thing you’re here,” Jackson said. “I can use the help.” There were butlers he could have called, but we had an unspoken agreement: The fewer people involved, the better we could keep our suspicions under wraps. Although I knew this was probably overkill, neither one of us wanted to leave anything to chance. “I’ll be right back,” he said.
While he disappeared into the dining room across the hall, I waited near the Roosevelt Room’s doorway, the serving cart directly behind me. I knew Jackson was preparing the dining table for the meal. Seconds later, he emerged, dodging several staffers in the hall as they walked past. “We may serve.”
Usually, at dinner, the butlers handled no more than one plate at a time. In fact, at the most formal affairs, all guests are served at the same moment by individual butlers. It’s quite a sight. Since today’s luncheon was informal, however, Jackson carried in one plate of baby greens with raspberry vinaigrette dressing for the president, then came back for the other two plates.
I maintained my presence near the doorway, the cart safely stowed behind me. Now that I was in the heart of the West Wing, I tuned in to passing conversations. I caught a few vague references to headline topics, but nothing about Minkus. Until Jackson returned.
“I will check back with them in a moment. They will be ready for the entrée shortly,” he said. “Right now, it’s quiet. I don’t think they plan to do any serious talking with their mouths full of your famous salad.”
I shrugged, feigning nonchalance.
“What were you hoping to overhear?”
“Me?” I asked. “Nothing at all.”
“Yeah, like I believe that,” he said with a smirk, then lapsed into the folksy speech that he probably reserved for times when he was relaxing with friends. “Don’t you be trying to pull one over on old Jack.”
“Okay,” I said. “The other guy… not Cooper… goes by the name Kap.” Jackson must have detected the disdain in my voice because his eyebrows raised. I frowned. “He took my mother out on a date.”
The look on Jackson ’s face would have been enough to make me laugh if the situation hadn’t been so serious. “Well, that’s about the last thing I expected to hear.”
“Not only that, he’s a good friend of the Minkus family. I have to believe there’s a connection now that he’s chumming up with Cooper.”
Jackson glanced at the dining room door. “You wait here,” he said.
As he continued to serve, he provided me with a play-by-play of the conversation going on in the dining room. “Just discussing that assassinations in China,” he said. But then he shook his head. “Cooper, I understand why he’s here. But not that other gentleman. I wonder what his story is.”
I thought about Liss’s allegations. I wondered if Kap could have poisoned Minkus before dinner-I thought about how much Ruth Minkus despised the man. Did she have a sense about him? I would probably never know.
Jackson came in, his eyes bright. “You want the scoop?” he asked. He scanned the room and lowered his voice. “President Campbell took a call while I was in there. From the medical examiner.”
I swallowed. Waited.
He whispered, “And he shared this information with the other two men.”
“Well?” My throat was so dry I could barely ask, “What did he say?”
Jackson ’s brow furrowed. “You aren’t going to like it.”
Visions of heads rolling-mine, Bucky’s, Cyan’s-made my legs weak. “Just tell me.”
“They figured out what killed Minkus.”
I held my breath.
“It was a toxin.”
Oh my God, I thought. It couldn’t be. “Like… botulism?” I asked.
Jackson shook his head. “Don’t know. President Campbell wrote it down while he was on the phone, but I couldn’t get a look. Soon as he got off the phone, he showed the note to the other two. They didn’t say it when I was in the room, but they did say ‘toxin’ a couple of times.”
I prayed it wasn’t botulism. It couldn’t be. I took great care in my kitchen to keep food safe. That was part of my responsibility. It just couldn’t be. It couldn’t be.
“I have to find out,” I said.
Jackson looked as upset as I was. “Don’t know how you can.”
“They aren’t going to announce it?”
“No, ma’am. All three agreed to share this on a ‘need to know’ basis until… something-don’t know what-can be verified. They’re keeping mum. Heck, the president won’t even say it in front of me and you know we’re usually invisible.” Jackson ’s face was creased with worry. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that much.”
“Don’t worry, it won’t go anywhere.” I closed my eyes for a long moment. “That means the kitchen is under suspicion again, doesn’t it?”
“I can’t answer that, Ollie,” he said. “But I can tell you that they aren’t sharing this information with the media yet, so…” He held a finger to his lips. “Okay?”
My brain was on hyper-drive. “If it was botulism…”
Jackson grimaced. “For your sake, hope it isn’t.”
I nodded. I supposed I’d find out soon enough. I hated waiting. In this case, however, I had no choice. He left me again.
Moments later, Jackson came back into the Roosevelt Room.
Followed by Cooper.
My shock at the agent’s unexpected appearance rendered me speechless.
“Hello,” he said pleasantly. “It’s nice to see you again, Ms. Paras.”
I murmured a polite reply, not understanding this turn of events. Jackson intervened. “Mr. Cooper needs this room to make a private phone call,” he said with just the proper eloquence to usher me out. He followed me into the hall with the now-empty food cart.
Already dialing, Cooper offered absentminded thanks.
As soon as we were in the corridor, Jackson pointed to the dining room. “Come on, let’s get in there.”
“In?” I asked. “Where?”
He brought a finger to his lips. In hushed tones, he urged me forward. “President Campbell was called away by his secretary. It’s your chance, Ollie. Take it now or…”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence.
I stepped into the President’s Dining Room, Jackson behind me. He began clearing the plates around the room’s sole occupant, Kap, who was leaning on the table, his head propped up with one hand.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Kapostoulos,” I said.
He looked up immediately. “Ollie,” he said, standing and closing his portfolio as he did so. “It’s good to see you again.”
Making small talk while I helped clear the tabletop, I forced a smile. “You, too. I happened to be over here, with Jackson ”-I gestured out the door-“and I took the opportunity to stop by and say hello.”
“I’m glad you did.” But he didn’t look glad at all.
In record time the table was clear except for coffee cups, a few ancillary items, and three leather portfolios. All closed. Darn it.
“How is your mother?” he asked.
“Great,” I said. “She really enjoyed dinner the other night.”
“I’m glad.”
Calling on moxie I didn’t know I possessed, I said, “Small world. I’m surprised to run into you here at the White House.”
“Yes, I imagine you are.” He glanced down at the table, as though eager to get back to work. “And it was nice to see you again.”
I took the hint. I was being dismissed.
“I don’t want to bother you any longer, but…” Acting on whim, I blustered forth. “If you wanted to stop by the kitchen before you leave, I would love to show you around.”
Kap looked up from his papers, regarding me with a bit of wariness now. “That’s very kind of you. I may take you up on it.”