Agent Pierce had called an urgent meeting of the senior Service agents to organize security plans for the Palmer funeral. They had agreed on the final arrangements and he was heading back to his office when his phone rang.
"Pierce here."
"Colonel Johnston, Agent Pierce."
"Angie? How'd it go?"
"I got the job. We're going to look at apartments this afternoon."
"Does she know I referred you?"
"Well, yes, but I didn't spill the beans till after she'd told me I was hired."
"And how did she take it?"
"I'd say she was very surprised. Pleased, I think, but surprised. I have a feeling you'll be hearing from her, sooner rather than later."
"What do you think of her, Angie?"
A chuckle. "I like her, Aaron. She'll be a lot more fun to work for than General Mason ever was."
"She can be a handful, you know."
"Yep, she's a firecracker, but you know my track record."
He smiled. "I sure do, that's why I sent you. I've got a question for you. Are you keeping up with your target practice these days?"
"I'll admit I've slacked off a bit. If you think it would be a good idea…"
"I do. Better safe than sorry. I have a feeling things may not be over and done with just yet."
"Well, you stay careful, Aaron, and I'll start practicing again."
"Great. Give my best to Marie. Talk to you later."
Click. Less than five minutes later, the phone rang again:
"Pierce here."
"This is Martha Logan."
Aaron raised an eyebrow. "Mrs. Logan. A pleasure to hear from you." A few moments of silence followed. This feels like a Mexican standoff, he thought.
"I've just interviewed a Colonel Angie Johnston. She says she's a friend of yours."
"We're from the same town, ma'am. She went to high school with my brother."
"So she said. It looks like she's going to be my new personal assistant."
"I'm glad you found her satisfactory, Mrs. Logan."
"She's incredibly organized." Martha was warming up a bit. "I told her I needed to find a place to live and the next thing I knew she had a realtor lined up for me!"
"She's very efficient, had to be. She'll never tell you this herself, but General Mason was a pretty demanding boss. Temperamental, too, but she had him eating out of her hand after a few months."
"Oh? And are you implying something by that, Agent Pierce?" By now there was a definite smile in her voice.
"Implying something, ma'am? Never."
"Well, I'll probably be eating out of her hand soon myself," she admitted.
"She's one of the kindest people I know. And she knows how to keep a secret. If you need someone to talk to, you could do a lot worse than her. When I went through my divorce, she was about the only person I could stand to be around."
"That's good to know. Thanks, Aaron. Thank you for recommending her."
"You're welcome. Glad I could help. How are you doing?"
"I'm doing better, I think. Just knowing I'll be out of the White House soon makes all the difference."
"I'll miss you," he answered before he could think about it.
"I'll miss you, too, Aaron." A pause. "I'm not leaving just yet, and I'll be at the funeral tomorrow. I imagine you will too."
"Yes, I was just in a meeting to finalize security for it. I know where you'll be sitting. I'll see you there."
"I'm sorry you'll have to work. You haven't really had a chance – have you? – to say goodbye."
Aaron found it difficult to speak for a moment. "I – no, I haven't. But in my experience, funerals are never the best place to do that anyway. I'll say goodbye to him in my own time."
"I'll be thinking of you. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Goodbye –" while he was hesitating over whether or not to call her by name, she'd hung up.
Martha realized she had an hour before she and Angie were due to meet with the realtor. She eyed the paper on which she'd scribbled down Mike Novick's list of divorce lawyers, thought for a moment, and then went through her address book looking for an acquaintance of hers who'd been divorced the previous year. She'd been married to a prominent Washington lobbyist who Martha had always privately despised. How can she stand to live with that man?, she'd often asked herself; it brought her up short to realize that her friends would now be wondering the same thing about her. Setting these thoughts aside, she took a chance and dialed the number.
"Jane, it's Martha Logan."
"Martha! How are you? Are you all right?" Hearing the concern in her voice was enough to bring Martha to the verge of tears, but she cleared her throat and forged ahead.
"I'm fine, thanks. Listen, Jane…" she decided to be blunt. "I need a recommendation for a divorce lawyer. I have a list here of five or six. Can you tell me who you used last year?"
"My attorney was Susan Margate. She's good, I'd definitely recommend her." Martha was delighted to see Margate's name on Mike's list.
"That's great, Jane. I'll give her a call. How are you doing?"
"I'm doing well. Things have calmed down. I'll tell you this, Susan told me it would take me six months to start feeling halfway normal again, and she was right. Let me pass that along for what it's worth."
Martha was relieved not to have to listen to empty commiserations; Jane seemed to know that what she really needed was advice. "Would she perhaps have been through this herself?"
"Yes, she has. It does make a difference to be able to talk to somebody who knows what it's like."
"I'm sure it does. She sounds better and better. Jane, I'm in the middle of moving right now, but if it's okay with you I'd like to make a lunch date as soon as I have room to breathe. I'd love a chance to talk to you some more."
"Any time, Martha. If you need to vent or if you just need a break, let me know."
"Thanks, Jane. I'll call you soon." Martha hung up and sat back, stunned. She'd thought of herself as isolated for so long that it was a radical idea to realize that she had access to potential friends and allies for the asking. She had no reason to think of herself as cut off from humanity at large. The sense of empowerment she'd felt earlier in the day was growing. Taking advantage of it, she quickly dialed Susan Margate's office number. At first she was rebuffed by the secretary, but dropping the name "Martha Logan" got her a quick entrée to the attorney herself.
"Ms. Martha Logan?"
"Yes, Ms. Margate. You were recommended by two friends of mine, and if you know who I am I think you can imagine why I'm calling. Have you been following recent developments regarding my husband?"
"It's safe to say everyone in Washington has, Ms. Logan."
"I want to start divorce proceedings as soon as possible. I was wondering if I could meet with you to discuss how best to do this."
"I'd be happy to meet with you this evening, if that's convenient for you. Do you want to come to my office, or shall I come to you?"
"To be honest, I'm in the middle of moving. If it isn't too much trouble…" Martha began hesitantly.
"Not a problem. Would eight o'clock be all right?" Martha assented. "I'll see you at eight, then." Martha quickly gave Susan Margate instructions for admittance to the White House and ended the call, feeling somewhat numb. So it's that easy, she thought. The idea of ending her marriage had been with her as a vague plan since her confrontation with Charles in the airport hangar. Mike's implicit support had encouraged her, but her impending move from the White House had stimulated her to action. It was time to start structuring her new life, to put it together as she wanted it.
A thought flashed into her mind: Aaron's casual reference to his divorce. Had she ever realized that he was divorced? She'd known so little about him up until the last few days. Would Angie be willing to talk to her about Aaron, or would she view it as sheer nosiness? Realizing that she'd be late for the realtor's appointment unless she hurried, Martha grabbed her cell phone and headed down the hall.
The walkthrough with the realtor took less time than Martha had thought it would. Not sure quite what she was looking for, she began to realize that Angie's questions were focused on security arrangements, doormen, and the like. In the second apartment they looked at she felt a chill go down her spine when the realtor enthused over the view from the living room, only to be stopped by a quick shake of the head from the former colonel.
"Ma'am, look at it this way. It's temporary housing and safety should be your biggest concern. Picture windows are not your best friend right now."
Martha lowered her voice. "Do you think there's really a chance of something happening?"
"Hopefully not, but I know Agent Pierce is concerned. He mentioned it to me this morning." Angie decided to leave out Aaron's recommendation to brush up on her shooting skills.
"I trust Agent Pierce. If he thinks I should be careful, believe me, I'll do as he says." Martha moved on to eyeball the kitchen, wondering how to keep Angie talking about Aaron. "He spoke very highly of you."
"Well, I think very highly of him. I've known him since we were kids, but I hadn't seen him in years – then I ran into him one day at the Pentagon. He was there with President Palmer. We've sort of stayed in touch since then. He tells me what's going on back home from time to time."
"You haven't been back?"
"No. I don't have all that much reason to, since my parents are dead. There's not much I miss about small-town life, and Aaron's memories of Texas are probably happier than mine."
"Small towns aren't always the paradise they're cracked up to be." Martha wasn't sure what Angie was referring to, but didn't feel she had the right to ask. "So you joined the Army and got out of town?"
"That's right. Best decision I ever made."
"Aaron told me you were a big help to him during his divorce."
Angie looked surprised: "He told you about that?"
"Yes. You know, until today I hadn't even realized he was divorced. I feel like I should have known, somehow, after everything we went through. I don't know how much he's told you about the terrorist attack, but he saved my life."
"He told me you saved his too."
"That was just dumb luck. I don't feel I have the right to take credit for it," Martha said vaguely, hoping to avoid discussing the details. Surely, she thought, Aaron wouldn't have told her the truth of Adams' death. Remembering Aaron's description: "She knows how to keep a secret," she decided to go on. "He didn't just save my life physically. Emotionally I was a basket case. I still am, really. He was the only one who believed me that day, that there was something more going on. That David Palmer tried to warn me. If it weren't for him…" she made eye contact with Angie for the first time since they'd started talking about Aaron, "I'd most likely be in a padded cell somewhere."
"I know he's concerned about you. He didn't tell me anything specific, but I think this is more than just professional pride." Angie realized that Martha's expression was happier than it had been all afternoon, and added: "And I can tell you that neither one of us thinks you belong in a padded cell, that's for sure."
Martha smiled. They were now standing in the master bedroom; the realtor was waiting for them back in the entry hall. "Safety wise, do you think the last place we looked at would be better?"
"Yes, ma'am, I do. I can have Aaron take a look and give us his opinion as well – in fact, I'd really prefer that he do that."
"All right. If he agrees, I might as well take it. I have a meeting tonight at eight, and I know Aaron won't have time tomorrow because of the funeral; how about the day after that?"
"That should be fine, I'll call him to check his schedule. Do you need help with your meeting tonight, Mrs. Logan?"
"I don't think so. It's with a divorce attorney named Susan Margate, and she's coming to the White House. I'm going to go back, start packing and wait for her. I think President Gardner may be arranging some sort of reception after the funeral tomorrow, but I'm not sure. I heard something about it from the staff manager this morning."
"I'll go back with you. I'll meet with the staff manager to make sure your stuff doesn't get lost in the move and check on storage arrangements for what you don't want to take with you, and I'll find out about the reception as well." Martha mentally awarded Angie points for not asking further questions about her divorce plans.
By eight o'clock that night, Martha was well into the process of sorting her clothing and belongings. The apartment she was planning to lease didn't have all that much in the way of closet space and she was starting to realize that it might be a good idea to donate a large portion of her wardrobe to charity. The shoes alone should get me into heaven, she thought wryly. Two days ago she'd seen nothing but an empty future; it lifted her spirits to realize how much she'd accomplished since then. She headed back to the conference room where she'd interviewed Angie that morning. The woman awaiting her there was petite, cheerful and full of energy.
"Susan Margate, Ms. Logan." She shook hands briskly.
"How do you do."
"Do you mind my asking who recommended me?"
"Not at all. Mike Novick was the first person who gave me your name, and my friend Jane Hughes told me you were a really big help when she got her divorce last year."
"Ah, yes, Jane. I hope she's doing well?"
"I think so. She sounded fine when we spoke today; she's in really good spirits."
"Well, now, Ms. Logan, the first thing I need to do is to serve your husband notice of your intention to pursue divorce. How can I get in touch with him?"
The meeting proceeded more smoothly than Martha had hoped. Susan Margate grimaced slightly when Martha informed her that Dunlap and Tenney were representing Charles, but made no comment other than "They're specialists in criminal law, so they'll probably subcontract with someone to represent him in the divorce suit." She promised to send the initial paperwork to Joshua Tenney the next day, and with that their conference concluded. "I'll call you as soon as I hear anything," were her final words as she headed for the door.
Martha dressed carefully for the funeral the following morning. She was dreading the inevitable television cameras and hoped she'd be seated quietly in a back row somewhere, but her hopes were dashed early on when Hal Gardner insisted on her riding to the Cathedral in the limo with Beth and himself. "You're the hero here," he explained. "You're going to be seated up front with us; you've got to be seen." Martha reflected that Hal was probably calculating that it would do his image good to be seen on good terms with her as well, but she couldn't blame him. I wouldn't have his job right now for anything, she thought. It was ironic that Gardner, who had made no secret of his ambition to hold the Presidency the whole time he'd worked with Charles, now had achieved his goal under the worst possible circumstances.
As she and the Gardners were escorted to their seats, Martha greeted Wayne Palmer and the Palmer children, then occupied herself by quietly glancing around looking for Aaron. Although he was nowhere to be seen, she knew that somewhere he was there. She braced herself for a long, emotional service and reached into her purse to confirm that she had plenty of Kleenex.
There had indeed been a reception after the funeral, and Martha had dutifully attended. She pleaded a headache after about forty-five minutes, realizing that she had become the focus of the gathering and that Beth Gardner was furious about it. Novick's appreciation of the situation didn't help matters; every time she looked over at him he was eyeing Beth and smirking. After talking to Wayne Palmer for a few minutes, she made her way over to Mike and told him to behave himself.
"I can't help it, Martha, this is better than a ticket to the circus."
"I'm glad you find funerals so entertaining."
"It's the human condition. You get a great chance to observe social behavior in situations like this." Under her glare, he obediently switched the subject. "Did you get a chance to interview any of those PA candidates I sent you?"
"Why, yes," she said quickly, wondering how she was going to explain what had happened. "They were terrific people, Mike, and I appreciate your help. I wound up hiring a Colonel Angie Johnston, she's recently retired from the Army."
"Johnston. Johnston." He was frowning. "I don't recall the name."
"She wasn't on your list, but I didn't realize that till after I'd hired her."
"How did she find out about the job?"
Martha took a breath. "Aaron Pierce recommended her."
Mike choked on an hors d'œuvre. "Aaron?"
"Yes, Mike, and she's wonderful. She helped me find an apartment in less than twelve hours. She used to work for General Mason at the Pentagon."
Mike grunted. "How long did she last with him? Five minutes?"
"Ten years, actually."
Mike looked impressed. "She must be good. From all I've heard, Mason was pretty hard on his staff." Martha was relieved to see that Mike wasn't miffed about her selection. She left him to circulate and was pleased when he gave her an affectionate kiss on the cheek. "Get some rest," he advised and wandered over to chat with the Senator he'd spoken to at the lying in state.
Martha stepped into the hall with relief, planning to head back to her room. She was confronted with the sight of Wayne and Aaron talking in low tones, but as she headed up to them the men shook hands and ended their conversation. Both of them looked subdued.
"Goodbye, Aaron, and thanks for everything. Mrs. Logan, it was really good to see you. Thanks for everything you did. I know my brother trusted you."
"Goodbye, Wayne." Martha found herself tearing up again. Impulsively, she hugged him.
"I'm going to collect the kids and get out of here," he said gruffly, patting her back. He stepped back inside the room, leaving Martha with Aaron.
"I'm going back to my room." He said what she hoped he'd say:
"I'll go with you." He called Agent Mitchell over and left him on guard outside the reception; Martha greeted him with a smile, which made Mitchell blush.
"How did things go during the funeral?" she asked as they walked up the hall. "Any problems?"
"None, it was quiet." A few more steps, then: "Angie Johnston tells me you've found somewhere to live."
"Yes, she wanted you to check it out. It's good enough for now. Angie made it clear that safety was the big issue, so I didn't quibble about things like the view or the size of the kitchen."
"I'll take a look at it tomorrow." They were at the door of her room; Martha looked at him, concerned.
"You look tired." She cast around frantically for something else to say, but could think of nothing, and Aaron seemed too distracted for conversation.
"It's been a long day." He touched her arm and added: "I'd better get back. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
Martha stepped into her room and tossed her purse and hat onto the bed, then hesitated. She knew Aaron was upset. On an impulse she left the room and started retracing her steps, then suddenly stopped. He was leaning against the wall in the most shadowed part of the hallway with his hand over his face. Without saying anything, Martha went to him and put her hands on his shoulders. She heard him sigh, and then he moved to put his arms around her.
They stood in the hallway for a very long time, saying nothing.
