“Don’t worry, Henry. I just want your cooperation. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“As long as I have that cooperation, your secret will remain forever safe with me. All right?”
“Yes,” Espinosa whispered.
The time for wielding the stick had passed. Now the carrot needed to be dangled. “Remember, Henry, Chief Justice Bolger isn’t getting any younger. And as far as President Dorn is concerned, you are next in line to replace him when he retires. As long as you ultimately cooperate with me at the crucial moment, of course,” Baxter added.
Espinosa shook his head. “Bolger isn’t going to retire anytime—”
“Or he dies,” Baxter cut in.
The two men stared at each other for a long time. Finally, the wall clock above the desk began to chime, breaking the silence.
“What the hell just happened?” Troy demanded as he stalked across the stone porch toward Jack. “Are you out of your mind?”
Jack was standing in the same spot he’d been standing before following Troy to the barn. He was leaning over the wall and gazing down, trying to find that pebble he’d flicked into the rose garden earlier. But it was too dark.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered as Troy moved beside him. He could feel Troy’s rage boiling over as he rose up off the wall and turned to face his younger brother. “I couldn’t do it. Joining Red Cell Seven would go against everything I stand for, Troy. I appreciate the offer, more than I can express. But I can’t join a group that tortures and murders people to get information.”
Troy groaned loudly as a shot of chain-blue lightning flashed across the sky. “I thought you’d finally grown up. But you’re the same old Jack, still the same bleeding-heart liberal, aren’t you?”
“Torturing innocent people is wrong,” Jack retorted as a loud thunderclap followed the lightning. “I don’t care what your politics are.”
“We only torture people who deserve it. Believe me, they’re not innocent.”
“Don’t feed me that crap, little brother,” Jack snapped. “Sometimes you guys miss. Don’t try to tell me you’re perfect.”
“Nobody bats a thousand, Jack.”
Now it was Jack’s turn to groan. “Listen to yourself, Troy. You’re rationalizing torture and murder.”
“How could you be so disloyal?”
“Disloyal? What are you talking about?”
“How could you turn down that offer?” Troy grabbed Jack by the shirt with both hands. “How could you turn your back on your country?”
“I went up on Gannett Peak last December,” Jack hissed. Part of his shirt tore off in Troy’s hands as he pushed his brother away hard. “I did what Dad asked, and I risked my life to get that Order for you guys. Karen did, too.” Jack squared up as Troy came at him again and rain began to fall. “And she took a bullet to the head for it. So don’t ever call me or her disloyal. You got that?”
“I can’t believe you.”
“Shut up.”
Jack ducked Troy’s first punch just as the storm unloaded on the landscape, sending torrents of rain flooding down onto them amid the lightning flashes and thunderclaps.
They hadn’t physically fought in years, but Jack still remembered that his only chance to win was to get his brother on the ground fast and use his size advantage. Troy was too good a fighter on his feet, seemingly as fast as those lightning bolts splitting apart the night sky above them.
He charged at Troy with his shoulder down and wrapped his arms as they collided. They crashed against the stone wall and tumbled along it together. But after a quick scuffle Troy broke away, and they stared at each other from a few feet apart as the rain soaked them.
“I was the one who proposed you to Red Cell Seven!” Troy shouted above the storm. “I went out on a limb for you, and you showed me up.”
“You should have known I wouldn’t join!” Jack yelled back. “I can’t belong to a group that uses torture. There’s no justification for that in any situation.”
“You were okay with it in Alaska,” Troy reminded Jack, “when it came to finding Karen fast, when her life was in danger.”
Jack gritted his teeth. He started to yell back, but there was nothing he could say. He had been okay with it that night.
“Walking out of that ceremony had nothing to do with torture,” Troy muttered.
“What do you mean?”
“You just wanted to embarrass me in front of all those people.”
“Oh, bullshit!”
“You still aren’t over it!” Troy shouted as a brilliant flash of lightning illuminated the area as brightly as if it were noon on a clear day. “You’re still bitter, Jack.”
“What am I still bitter about?”
“You know.”
“Say it, Troy. Come on, say it!”
They gazed hard at each other through the downpour.
“You’re still bitter that you aren’t Bill’s son,” Troy finally muttered. “You hate that I’m blood but you’re not. It’s that simple, and it’s that wrong. You’re as much his son as I am, and down deep you know it. You’re just too insecure to admit it. It’s so stupid.”
The last few words caused an explosion inside Jack. It wasn’t for Troy to decide what was stupid and what wasn’t. He had no idea how it felt to be an outsider all those years, because he’d been the ultimate insider the moment he was born. He was the classic example of a kid who’d been born on third base and thought he’d hit a triple.
Jack charged again, but this time Troy avoided the rush easily and tripped Jack on the way by, causing him to sprawl forward onto the drenched stones. In an instant Troy was on him like a big cat, pinning Jack’s chest to the stones. Before Jack could retaliate, Troy had Jack’s right wrist almost to the back of his neck, immobilizing him.
“You’re an idiot, Jack. Sometimes I still don’t get you.”
Jack moaned in relief as Troy let his wrist go and the knifing pain in his shoulder eased. “Sometimes I don’t get myself,” he muttered through the raindrops bouncing off the stones around his face.
Troy stood up, releasing Jack completely. He held his hand out to help his older brother up as Jack rolled onto his back.
But Jack refused.
Troy shook his head as he turned to go inside. “What a prick you are sometimes. But I guess I still love you.”
CHAPTER 9
Leigh-Ann Goodyear belted out the last few lines of “This Kiss” as the crowd packed inside the Nashville nightclub went wild.
“Thank you, thank you!” she shouted in her Southern accent as the music from the band faded and the cheering intensified another notch to fill the void. “I love y’all. We’re gonna take a little break, and then we’ll be right back for the second set.” As she headed toward the edge of the stage she took off her black Stetson, waved, and gave them another one of her light-up-the-world smiles. “Don’t go away, y’all.”
When she was out of sight of the still-roaring fans, she headed to an outside door and down a narrow set of steps to the alley, followed into the cool of the night by her backup singers, Paige and Betty. The fresh air felt good. It was blistering hot beneath the bright lights onstage.
“That was an awesome set, Leigh-Ann,” Paige called as she pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Betty before lighting up herself. She didn’t bother offering one to Leigh-Ann, who never smoked. “You’re rocking the place, girl.”
“No doubt,” Betty agreed. “You look great, too. That little jean skirt and the rattlesnake boots have all the guys going crazy. And the wild thing is their dates don’t mind.” Betty shook her head. “You can steal the boys for a few hours, and their girlfriends don’t care. Even the girl who’s with that guy you pulled up onstage. I watched her. She thought it was great. They all love your voice so much. It’s amazing.”