Page 86 of Booked for Theft

Oh. I joined him in widening my eyes. “And it’s on official White House stationery?”

“It is an official notice signed by the president—and it’s his real signature, as there’s an ink splotch when he dropped the pen. He was in a hurry, and he didn’t want to be dealing with it, but it needed to get off his to-do list. It’s the real deal.”

“Checked it with your magic?”

He nodded.

Damn. “That’s what we needed, isn’t it? It’s proof the government was behind the murder.”

“I don’t know if it’ll stand as proof in a court—not that the court is at all on our side. But it’s definitely something we need to be worried about. It even has the date of his death as when she’ll be expected to take his place.”

How horrible. “What do we do with this information?”

“That’s a good question. Honestly, I think this is the sole piece of information that needs to go to the media—and we need to wait. We need to put at least a few weeks between this turning up at the media and the fire.”

“That will give people some time to forget the headlines,” I muttered.

“And hopefully, people will assume that the memo had surfaced elsewhere.” Bradley eyed the stacks of paper. “Perhaps we can arrange for another theft—or the illusion of a theft—to make people think that theft is where the memo originated from. Perhaps we can check into what happened to Senator Maybelle’s estate?”

“Because if the memo is believed to have been part of the estate, and there’s a robbery of the estate, they won’t think it came from the campaign files. I like it. But how do we get that information?”

“I have no idea. I’ll ask Dad next time I see him and we’re somewhere we can talk. For now, our priority is to go through every sheet of campaign paper to learn what else has been going on. But this is starting to actually make some sense, although I don’t understand why Senator Maybelle was killed.”

I gestured to the collection of memos. “It seems pretty obvious to me. She was not dancing to President Castillo’s tune. She was trying to test the limits—and she stepped over the acceptable line. We might learn which line she crossed from this mess, but it seems pretty clear to me. Crossing the President of the United States means death. But what did Senator Godrin do to earn his execution?”

“That’s a good question. And why was he killed going to your library?”

“Opportunity?” A possibility came up, one that chilled me. “Or, perhaps, one of the military assigned to his murder had recognized me during scouting for the job and wanted to involve me. They mimicked my talent, after all.”

“And if that assassin knew you, the real you, that is, they would also know any accusations leveled at you would rapidly fall apart.”

“Perhaps they targeted me because it was easy to verify I couldn’t be responsible.” I frowned, thinking back on Senator Maybelle’s murder. “But if each group of soldiers was being executed following their assassinations, why shoot me first?”

“My guess is that the military group behind the assassinations is informed, understand they’ve been given a death sentence, and are trying to play their final hand against the government killing them. Loyalty is not going to be strong when their leader is killing them in groups of five or more. And if some of these soldiers are surviving, the risk of retaliation and resentment is high.”

“Yet the government thinks they can get away with it.”

“At this stage, they know they can,” my fiancé reminded me. “Ideally, they won’t realize we’re behind their misfortunes until it’s too late to stop us. Now, if you do win the election, that’s going to create many issues for our engagement activities overseas. The United States government will come and crash our party.”

“And we’ll be on the boat back to the United States when our month abroad is over,” I complained.

“That’s assuming they let you take the cruise ship back. They might not.”

I scowled. “They will be dealing with my choice of cruise, like it or not. We’d be arriving back in time for the inauguration.”

“By a day or two at most, assuming weather holds on the return trip.”

I shrugged. “It’s not like they aren’t going to be aware we aren’t due back into the country until then. If they want an inauguration on their schedule, and the ship hasn’t returned to land yet, they can send a helicopter and record it at sea.”

Bradley laughed. “I see you have decided that it’s your way or the highway.”

“I have never been on a cruise, and I wish to experience it. And if things work out in that fashion, I’m going to need that cruise to fortify myself against the reality of the situation. We could just stay in Europe.”

“If you win the election, I fear our hosts are going to end up tossing you onto the cruise ship personally to make certain sanity is restored to the United States.”

“Are we going to have enough stalls for twenty-five extra thoroughbreds on board the boat?”

Bradley shook his head. “We aren’t. We can fit some of them but not all of them. I’m going to have the extras flown to Europe. I’ll make some calls once all the animals are at your mother’s place. Obviously, we won’t be transporting pregnant mares by air, so we’ll have to hope Sunflower drops her foal in time and that the little one can go on the ship. We’ll have to see. But in the worst case, we’ll have Sunflower and her baby transported as soon as is safe for them.”