Edge of the Heat 3 (18 page)

The Senator sat down, and everyone resumed eating. Men came around on both sides of the tables with baskets, almost like the kind you see in church. The ones on sticks that they shove down the rows looking for money. Emma felt frantic. They had to donate again? She watched carefully and although many people did put in what looked like checks or cash, the soap opera star just waved them away. Perfect. When they came by her, she also waved them away, her heart hammering at her chest. Craig just ignored them and shoveled his beef medallions with crème fraiche into his mouth.

Dessert was tiramisu, but Emma wasn’t hungry. She just picked at hers, wondering what was next. So far, no opportunity to talk to the Senator had presented itself. Emma half hoped it never did. She was starting to have a very bad feeling about being here.

A
fter dinner, Senator Oberlin stood, thanked everyone, and reminded them again how long and hard the road to the presidency was. He then pleaded with them all to talk to their friends about supporting the cause. Finally, he hung up his microphone and invited everyone out to the yard for drinks.

Excitement and incredible nervousness speared Emma at the same time. Here was her chance to talk to the man who was supposed to be her father. This man who was supposed to be a great man, but in fact was a very bad man who put on a great public face. Fear that he might actually become president suddenly gripped Emma hard enough to pin her to her seat. She trembled a little and Craig noticed.

“You OK?” He leaned in, rubbing her shoulders. “Do you want my jacket?”

“No, I’m OK. Let’s go out.”

They followed the crowd outside, into the backyard, which had been decorated heavily with colored lights and lanterns. The bar stood open and that’s where everyone headed, but Emma and Craig. They walked down a stone path to a wooden bench and sat down, Emma trying to find the Senator.

“I want to try to talk to him before I lose my nerve,” she told Craig. “I’m going to find him, but you stay super close ok?”

He nodded and followed her.

Emma wound through the crowd but didn’t see the Senator anywhere. Was he not going to come out? Finally, she spotted him in the breezeway, on the phone. His posture was stiff, his head bent. He gesticulated angrily while he talked.

She watched him hang up, and stay stock-still for a moment. Then he stood up straight, and composed himself. She watched him shake the anger from his body, place a smile on his face, and walk out into the courtyard, head held high.
Neat trick,
she thought.

She walked towards him, both hands gripping her clutch, fingers buried in it. She put on her own smile. He saw her coming and looked her up and down, a real smile now replacing the fake one. To her, he looked like a lech. Like a dirty old man. Her smile tried to slip into a frown, but she covered by faking a cough.

They met on the path. “Senator, could I have a private word with you?” she asked softly.

“Of course my dear, I’m always happy to speak with my constituents.” He motioned down another path and grasped her elbow, lightly steering her on to a different wooden bench.

They sat down, Emma scooting as far away from him as she could. He wore that same indulgent smile. She looked toward the crowd and saw Craig’s silhouette watching them. That made her feel better. She took a deep breath and plunged right in.

“Uh, Senator. I don’t know how to say this, but, uh, my name is Emma Hill and I have DNA results that suggest you’re my father.”

She watched him closely, wanting to burn his reaction into her memory. She wondered if Craig could hear what they were saying.

He sat blank for a moment, not reacting at all. As he processed the information she saw several emotions slip across his face, so quickly she almost missed them. He was good. Before he spoke, he composed his face into a perfect mask of blankness. No emotion whatsoever. He pushed himself to the other side of the seat, placing distance now that he knew what she wanted.

“That’s impossible,” he said flatly. “I am unable to have children. It’s not something I have ever shared with the public though.” He raised an eyebrow here, and the pucker of his mouth suggested that she was lying and he knew she was lying, probably trying to grab at fame or money now that he was on his way to the presidency.

Emma felt her cheeks flame red at his inference. The monster dared imply that
she
was lying? And he
was
a monster. She could see it. She could see it in the sudden, cold, flatness of his eyes. She saw it in his blank, unmoving stare. She could almost feel the evil coming off him in waves. She’d felt scared of people before, frequently in her childhood, but as an adult, mostly at work. People upset and hurting, who believed they had nothing left to lose. But she’d never felt anything like this. She’d never seen a man so perfectly under control, so calm and collected, who still gave off that huge, dangerous vibe. To her, it felt like she was sitting on the bench with a hungry anaconda.

She’d once tried to watch Silence of the Lambs, but she couldn’t finish it, because it scared her so badly. Blood and gore didn’t bother her at all, but flat evil and malevolent intentions terrified her.  That’s who Senator Oberlin reminded her of right now. Hannibal Lecter, just without the charm. Emma shivered. It wasn’t right. People like that weren’t supposed to exist in the real world. In the real world, everyone you met was supposed to just want to be happy, just like you. And if they were clumsy about it, or stupid about it, that was excusable. But evil? She glanced up again to be sure Craig was still there. He was, and that gave her the strength to get this over with. She didn’t know what was going to happen next, but she knew she would never try to see this man again, father or not.

Emma squared her shoulders and screwed up her courage. “My birthdate is September 13th, 1983.”

The reaction was instant, like she had actually kicked him in the balls instead of reciting a number. His eyes bugged out of his head and his mouth popped open. The blood drained from his face so completely she thought he was going to pass out. She pulled back, feeling the rough arm of the bench jab her in her lower back.

“You. But. She.” He sputtered and stammered, all control fled. He raised a disbelieving hand to his temple and rubbed it. “He said you were dead,” Oberlin spat out, his voice laced with fear.

Terror and disgust snaked around Emma’s heart. Of all the reactions she had expected, this wasn’t one of them. Who said she was dead? Norman? Why would Norman tell Oberlin she was dead? It didn’t make sense. And why was Oberlin so afraid all of a sudden? Had he wanted her dead? Had he in fact, tried to kill her before her life even got started?

She watched him wide-eyed, not sure what to say to that. Too scared to even ask him who he was talking about or why he would think she was dead. His mask dropped back on his face, slowly, but completely. The emotion was gone, but his color was still bone white. She saw resolve in his eyes suddenly. A decision was made. He looked around the yard at his party. She saw him make a gesture and followed his line of sight. One of his security guards was heading over, almost running. She stood up quickly and looked for Craig. He was typing something into his phone, but striding towards them quickly.

Craig reached them first. “Vivian, there you are. We’ve got to get home. The babysitter called and said Jimmy is sick.” He took her hand and pulled her into the grass towards the throng of people and the bar but away from the stone path before she could say a a word.

The security guard came running down the path. Emma peeked behind her and saw Oberlin tell him something and point at them. The guard said something into his walkie-talkie and then followed them, not running anymore.

“Craig, the guard is following us,” she hissed to him.

Craig shot a look over his shoulder and changed direction, pulling Emma with him. “If we go through the house they’re going to gang up on us. If we go this way maybe we can beat him to the car.”

Emma ran as fast as she could in the heels to keep up with Craig. Why had she worn these things? She kicked them off, feeling the cool grass under her feet and ran faster. She heard the man behind them say something into his radio.

“He’s got a walkie Craig.”

“Then we’re screwed,” Craig said, as they rounded the corner of the house. Emma could see the driveway, but she knew their limo was on the other side of it, out of their line of sight. They both ran faster.

Before they reached the driveway, two security guards turned the corner of the house, coming right at them. Emma looked behind her. The other guy was still coming. They were caught. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead. Should they run? Should they fight? She squeezed Craig’s hand, trying to tell him she would follow his lead. This was his territory.

Craig slowed down, and struck off to the left a bit, like he was going to walk around the two coming their way. They corrected their course to meet him head on. Emma and Craig stopped, waiting.

The two men in front stopped four feet from them, one of them holding up his hands to tell them to stop. The man following them from the back arrived, a little out of breath, and told them “You two, come with me.” They all wore simple dark khakis and dark shirts with dark sport coats over the top, but this one also had an ear piece, like a secret service agent. Emma decided he was the leader.

“Why? Where?” Craig said. “We are going home. Our babysitter just called. She needs us.” Emma pressed up against his side.

“Senator wants to talk to you,” the first man said.

Craig drew himself up to his full height and turned up the volume. “You must not have heard me. We have to go. We have someone waiting for us. The Senator can call us later.” Holding Emma’s arm, he barreled forward, right between the first two men. They both stepped back and let Craig and Emma through. Emma breathed a sigh of relief. Craig pulled her urgently to the driveway.

“They can’t go. Stop them.” The leader's voice rang out and Emma heard movement behind them. The three men came on a run and got in front of them. Emma shook her head in disbelief. She opened her mouth to say Craig was an FBI agent and they better let them go, but Craig squeezed her upper arm and shook his head when she glanced at him. Emma closed her mouth.

“We’re not going with you,” Craig said, looking around.
For witnesses
? Emma wondered.

The leader spoke up. “You are going with us. I hate to sound like a cliche, but there’s two ways you can go. You can walk with me; that’s the easy way. Or we can carry you; that’s the hard way.”

Emma felt sick.

“Are you threatening us?” Craig asked lightly, like he was asking about the weather.

“I’m not threatening. I’m just telling you. It’s very important to the Senator that you meet him in his office and I am going to make sure that you do.”

“And what happens to us once we get in the office?”

“You talk to the Senator, that’s all.”

Craig pushed forward and leaned into the guy’s face. “You sure that’s all? Can you guarantee we will leave this house tonight, in our own car, still alive?”

The leader flicked his eyes to the other two men nervously, then back to Craig. “Of course you’ll get to leave.”

Craig shook his head slowly, his eyes steely. “I just wanted to hear you say it.” Then he held out a hand, as if to say “After you then.”

As a group, they started towards the house, Emma’s fingers wound around Craig’s arm and in his shirt. She wasn’t letting go for anything.

A fourth security guard walked over carrying something. “I believe these are yours?” He handed them to Emma.

Her shoes.

C
raig didn’t like this at all. When he’d seen Oberlin motion for his security, he thought Emma was about to get thrown out, and he’d rushed forward to make sure the guards weren’t rough with her. When the guards cut them off and said they couldn’t leave, he started worrying, and worrying hard. What exactly was so bad about what Emma had said that Oberlin would now risk kidnapping charges? Craig couldn’t believe the man was that stupid and reckless, but even so, he was starting to wish they had never come.

One thing was sure, Oberlin knew he had kids, and he thought they were dead. Craig had seen his face when Emma gave her birthdate. Oberlin had almost fainted.

The four security guards escorted them thorough the house, up the stairs with the pink and gold runner, and into what appeared to be a large study, or office. They didn’t pass one person on the way up. Everyone was outside still. The walls of the study were lined with shelves filled with books. A door opened out onto a veranda between two of these shelves. The room was long and rectangular, and there were several couches and chairs placed strategically throughout it. At the far end was one lone desk, with a chair in front of it. The Senator was already sitting at the desk, with a man seated in the chair in front of him. They could only see the back of the man’s head.

“You may go, but Dean, you stay outside the door,” the Senator said. The leader nodded and the team turned to go. They filed out and closed the double doors behind them.

“Please, come closer, sit down.” The Senator held out his hand to some leather chairs to the left of the one in front of his desk.

“We’ll stand.” Craig said. “Are you aware that we don’t want to be here? That we tried to leave and your security guards wouldn’t let us? That they threatened us?”

Oberlin raised an eyebrow. “Really? Are you sure they weren’t just very persuasive? Mr.?”

Craig was torn. He’d never talked with Oberlin before and on one hand this was a great opportunity, but on the other hand, Emma was here, he didn’t have his gun, and Oberlin had the upper hand.
That’s what will get him to talk,
a voice in head said. Craig shoved it aside. If Emma weren’t here, maybe, but he wasn’t going to put her through that.

“We’re leaving now. Our babysitter called and said she needs us.” He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out his phone, sending another quick text message as he pulled Emma to the door.