Calix put down the last bite of his sandwich, then carefully wiped off his hands on a napkin. "You're wise, and you're absolutely right. It's just that…" He let out a deep sigh. "I don't have the time to grieve. I should, and it's important. Rationally, I know that, but the reality is that I can’t afford to spend time on it. So all I can do is hope and pray I'll get him through this. He's got to be my priority right now, not me or my emotional needs."
He was talking about the president, Rhett realized. What he so casually referred to here was complete and total dedication to serving someone else. It boggled Rhett's mind, and at the same time, it fit the dynamic he'd noticed between the president and Calix. The deep friendship between the two men was obvious, as was their dependence on each other. Rhett understood, but that didn't mean it was smart.
"Grief can be postponed, but not indefinitely. If you keep putting it off, it may show up at the most inopportune time."
Calix looked at him, a sad smile playing on his lips. "I know, sweetheart. Trust me, I know."
Rhett's stomach did a little tumble. There was that little endearment again. Would Calix notice? The man didn't say anything. Hadn't he heard it himself? Or maybe he didn't mind after all? Somehow, Rhett hoped it was the latter, but why, he wasn't sure.
7
When Annabeth Markinson had left the White House, she'd chosen to move back into the vacation home she and the former president owned on the Chesapeake Bay. Their official residence was in Frederick, about an hour northwest of DC on a light-traffic day, but Mrs. Markinson had always loved the water. Seth could understand why she had preferred to stay here.
The drive was gorgeous, especially crossing the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. He'd driven it a thousand times while on her protective detail, but the view never was the same. Every day, the Bay looked different, the clouds always changing shape, the light falling on another spot, the color of the water darker or lighter, the waves white-capped or smooth. It was endlessly fascinating, and Seth had never been bored here.
Coulson whistled between his teeth. "That's not a bad place to live."
He'd been staring out the window the whole trip.
"I was just thinking the same thing. She grew up close to here, actually, on the other side of the Bay. Her father came from a long line of crab fishermen, and her older brother was the first to not follow in his father's footsteps and take over from him, though with his father's blessing. The life of a fisherman is a hard existence, a fragile one that is dependent on a lot of uncontrollable factors like the weather or the economy. Her brother became a marine biologist and is one of the staunchest spokespeople for the preservation of the Chesapeake Bay. Her younger sister did well too and is now a professor at the University of Maryland."
"You like her," Coulson said softly, turning his attention to Seth now.
Seth sighed. "I do. She's a wonderful person, boo. Warm, affectionate, the quintessential grandmother. That's why I find it so hard to believe she would play any role in the assassination."
"She may not have known what she was doing, the consequences of leaking that information, I mean."
"Could be, but even talking to Henley is so out of character for her."
"Maybe a classic case of a woman scorned?"
Seth let out another sigh. "Her husband's affair hit her hard."
"I take it that was the first time?"
"That I know of, yes."
"Would she have stayed had it not been his first indiscretion?"
Seth took the exit off the Blue Star Memorial Highway, turning onto a narrow country road. "You know, I despise that expression. Indiscretion. I know it's the politically correct word, but it doesn't do justice to what it is. Cheating. He cheated on her, and she didn't deserve that. She stood by his side for all those years, sacrificed a lot for his political career, only to be rewarded with him going behind her back and sleeping with someone so much younger."
Coulson put a warm hand on Seth's thigh. "You're right. It's a horrible expression. And I'm sorry she got hurt."
Seth shot a quick look sideways. "It was hard to see her in pain. I'd come to care about her, as we all did. She was incredible to us, and as normal as that may sound, it's not the case. I haven't had a lot of bad experiences myself, but I've heard from others that they can be treated like shit by the very people they protect with their own lives."
"I believe you. People always talk in lofty terms about how much they respect the FBI, but we get the same treatment plenty of times, trust me." He was quiet for a few beats, then asked, "Do you know who he cheated with?"
Seth shook his head. "I only know she's younger than their youngest son because I overheard Mrs. Markinson say that to her husband in a fight. No name or anything else. I've put out some feelers with the other agents to see if anyone can tell me more, but I haven't heard back yet."
"I wonder if it matters."
"Yeah, same. Hopefully, after today, we'll be able to shed more light on that."
As a former first lady, Mrs. Markinson still had Secret Service protection, and she was actually awarded a higher level of protection than was usual because of her husband's assassination. Seth had cleared their visit with his colleagues, and they waved him in as he pulled up at the gate.
"Seth," the former first lady said as soon as she opened the door for them. "It's so wonderful to see you again, honey."
She looked well. Rested, with a bit of color in her face that suggested she'd spent time outside. And she'd gotten a haircut, a much more casual style than her previous, somewhat old-fashioned look.
She embraced him, and he carefully hugged her back, as always a little uncomfortable with her open displays of affection and familiarity. The Secret Service manual didn't spell out what to do when your principal insisted on hugging you.
"Mrs. Markinson, this is FBI special agent Coulson Padman."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Coulson," she said, shaking Coulson's hand.
"He's also my boyfriend, ma'am."
Her eyes lit up. "Seth! Such wonderful news. I'm so happy for you." She faced Coulson again. "You picked a good one. Seth will walk through fire for those he loves."
Her words warmed his heart. How could he reconcile her behavior with what they suspected her of? It made no sense, yet in the back of his head played the memories of her speech at her husband's funeral. She'd been so different then, had sounded so cold, even if she looked like the old Annabeth Markinson again right now.
"Thank you, ma'am. And I agree. He's amazing," Coulson said.
Seth all but blushed, still not used at how openly Coulson could show love. Seth had expected him to need time to adjust to being in a relationship with a man, but he hadn't. Instead, he'd embraced it, and it was magical.
"Well, come on in, boys. I've got tea and homemade cookies waiting for you."
Of course she did. She'd always loved baking, and her lemon cookies were to die for. When he spotted them on the plate she brought in, his mouth watered.
They settled in the sunroom, which offered a spectacular view over the Bay, even as cloudy as it was that day. Fall had been mild so far, with temperatures dropping to just above freezing point in the night but still in the fifties and sixties during the day.