"And no regular doc or hospital because Tippi might spill what had happened? Or people might start asking inconvenient questions?"
"Exactly."
Determann sat forward and studied the papers. "But no one checked the president's DNA?"
"If they did, it would be a match."
"Well, they have the man's DNA on file. Maybe this story will prompt one more test to be run." He started scribbling notes down but stopped when Sean put a hand over his. He looked up with a questioning expression.
"Marty, can I ask a favor?"
"After giving me the story of the century? Yeah, I think I can spare one."
"I don't want you to write about this part of the story. About Willa."
"Come again?"
Michelle spoke up. "Willa's lost her mother. The woman who actually gave birth to her is dead too. We just think it would be too much. It wouldn't be fair to put her through all that."
"And you have plenty enough without it," added Sean. "Including very compelling circumstantial evidence that the First Lady torched a house and killed an innocent woman to cover up her husband's misdeeds. But you're the reporter, so it's your call. We won't make you withhold it."
Determann looked uncomfortable. "You think Jane Cox intended Ruth Ann to die when she burned down the house?"
"I hope she didn't. But I guess no one other than her knows that. I do know that Willa has been through enough."
Determann nodded and reached out a hand to Sean. "Deal."
"Thanks, Marty."
Determann said, "It's a great story, Sean. And I can completely understand why you both would want the truth to come out."
"But?" Sean said warily.
"But it's going to rock this country to its soul, man."
"Sometimes you have to, Marty. Sometimes you just have to."
CHAPTER 88
WILLA SAT ACROSS from Sean, Michelle, and Gabriel with her hands in her lap and her head turned downward. They were at a house that Tuck had rented about a mile from their old one, which was up for sale. None of them wanted to go back there to live. Tuck sat next to his daughter, one arm protectively around her.
"I'm sorry that your ma died," Gabriel said, not looking directly at Willa. He was dressed in a new white polo shirt and blue jeans and he held a new Atlanta Falcons ball cap that Sean had bought him to replace the one he'd lost in the fire. He had one hand in his pocket, his fingers curved around the only thing of his that had survived the fire: the Lady Liberty coin that Sam Quarry had placed on his nightstand before he'd departed Atlee for good.
"I'm really sorry about your mom too," Willa said. "And you were very brave in that mine. I don't think I'd be alive except for you."
Gabriel glanced sideways at Sean. "He pulled me out. I sure wouldn't have made it without Mr. Sean."
Willa looked around the interior of her temporary home before gazing back at Gabriel. "He had a daughter. Her name was Tippi."
"Yep. She was real sick. Mr. Sam let me read to her."
"Jane Austen, he told me."
"Did he talk to you a lot about her?" Sean asked Willa.
"Not a lot, but I could tell he thought about her a lot. You just sort of know." She glanced at her father. "I tried to get away once. I almost fell off the mountain. He saved me. Mr. Sam grabbed me right before I fell."
Tuck fidgeted a bit. "That's all in the past, Willa. You don't have to think about it anymore, sweetie. It's over."
She fiddled with her fingers. "I know, Dad. But part of me-" She leaned forward. "He lost his daughter, didn't he? He lost Tippi?"
Michelle and Sean exchanged a quick glance. "Yeah, he did," he said. "But I believe your dad's right. You probably shouldn't think about it too much."
Tuck eyed Gabriel. It was obvious that the man was not entirely comfortable with anyone associated with Sam Quarry being in his home and around Willa, even an innocent little boy. "So he's staying with you guys. How's that working?" His tone clearly implied that it would not work at all.
"It's working just great," said Michelle firmly. "We've enrolled him in school up here for the new year. He graded into algebra even though he's only going into seventh grade, and his foreign language skills are off the chart," she said proudly.
"Spanish and Native American," added Sean.
"Well that's great," Tuck said insincerely.
"It is great," Willa said, eying Gabriel. "You must be really smart."
Gabriel shrugged. "I'm okay. Got a lot to learn, and everything up here is…"
"Different?" said Willa. "I can help with stuff like that."
Tuck gave a hollow laugh. "Wait a minute, honey, you'll be plenty busy yourself. I'm sure Mr. King here can take care of the boy."
Michelle looked at Willa. "But thank you for asking, Willa. That was very sweet." Now she looked directly at her dad. "And who knows, you two might become really great friends."
Later, Tuck drew Sean and Michelle aside while Willa showed Gabriel her room. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate what you did. The things that Willa told me happened. God. It's a miracle she survived. That any of you did."
"You probably don't want to hear this, but it was Sam Quarry who went back in that mine and really saved Willa. If he hadn't done that, she wouldn't be here."
Tuck's face reddened. "Yeah, well, if the asshole hadn't done any of this, Willa would never have been in that mine and Pam would still be here too."
"You're right. Have you talked to your sister much?"
Tuck scowled. "Not too much. Dan wanted to take Willa on a little tour with him on the campaign. But-"
"But you thought it seemed a little too exploitative?" said Michelle.
"Something like that, yeah."
"The kids really need you now, Tuck. So you might want to let your partner David Hilal run the show for a while." He paused. "Just stay away from his wife."
Before a surprised Tuck could say anything, Sean put a hand on the man's shoulder and added, "And if you go anywhere near Cassandra Mallory, I'll cut it right out of your pants, you son of a bitch."
Tuck chuckled briefly before realizing that Sean was deadly serious.
As they were walking to their car later, Willa rushed outside and ran up to them. She handed them three envelopes.
"What's this for?" asked Michelle.
"Thank-you letters, for all you did for me."
"Honey, you didn't have to do that."
"My mom said you always write thank-you letters, and besides, I wanted to."
Gabriel held on to his envelope like it was the most precious thing he'd ever been given. "That was really nice, Willa. Thank you."
She looked up at them, her eyes so large they seemed to envelop her entire face. "I hate Mr. Sam for what he did to my mom."
Gabriel immediately looked down and stepped back.
Michelle said, "I know, sweetie. I don't think he meant for her to get hurt, but it was still his fault."
"But right before he let me go he told me that if you ever love you have to be prepared to hate too. I guess he meant if someone hurts somebody you love you're going to hate them. It's just natural."
"I guess so," said Sean a little uneasily, unsure of where this was going.
"I think Mr. Sam loved his daughter."
"I think he did too," Michelle said softly, rubbing at her left eye.
"He did," said Gabriel. "No thinking about it."
"And because someone hurt her, he hated them."
"That's probably right," said Sean.
"But then he said you always have to let the hate go. Otherwise it'll just tear you up inside. And it won't let any love back in." She looked at Gabriel when she said this. The two children held this gaze for several long moments.