Note: Nope, not the last one yet. . . .
Chapter 22:
"Oh, thank God," C.J. gasped, and threw her arms around Josh's neck. "Thank God."
Sam collapsed in a chair. Toby took what felt like the first real breath he'd had for the last hour. Danny closed his eyes, shook his head to clear it, and opened his eyes again.
"How did he ever get past his agents?" he asked.
They were in the private lounge outside Josh's office on Air Force One. Josh dropped into an armchair and stretched his legs out.
"Donna didn't know the whole story yet. We're going to have to find out, and have a talk with Ron about preventive measures. And with Noah, of course. I'm afraid we've underestimated him."
"Always a mistake with kids," Toby pointed out. Josh might be President, but his Communications Director would always be the more experienced dad, a fact he rarely missed an opportunity to remind Josh of.
"Yeah, yeah," Josh said. Then he sat up and grinned. "Especially my kid. Apparently the little brat snuck out to see a girl. Sounds like something I'd have done at his age, too, if I'd had to."
C.J. rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, right, Casanova."
"I had girlfriends! When I was eight, I-hang on, I'd better get this." The phone by Josh's hand had started to ring. He picked it up.
"Ron? Yeah, I heard, Donna called. Thank goodness. . . . Yeah . . . Yeah . . . He WHAT?"
Josh's face paled. He leaned forward, suddenly intent on the call.
"What the? . . . What? . . . Yeah, Donna said he'd scraped his arm up. I thought-Jesus Christ! . . . Okay. . . . Okay. . . . Yeah. . . . Dr. Pierce? . . . He's better than good; if he says . . . Yeah, of course. . . .Yeah, good. . . .Good. . . .Yeah, okay. . . . You say you've got the guy? Any chance there are others? . . . Okay . . . Okay . . . No, you'd better let me tell her. Okay, Ron, thanks. Update me when you know more."
Josh wiped a hand across his face and looked up at his friends.
"There was a shooter. The bullet grazed Noah's arm."
C.J. gasped. The pen Toby had been fiddling with snapped in two.
"Is he-" Sam started, but found his throat had closed up and he couldn't finish the thought. He'd known Noah since he was born; they all had.
"He's okay. It bled a bit, Ron said, but Dr. Pierce has seen him and says he'll be fine. Allen will look at him when we get there, of course,"-Captain John Allen was the White House physician, whose job included looking after the President's family as well as following Josh wherever he went-"but if Pierce says he's all right, he's-God damn it!"
Josh jerked himself to his feet and threw the phone violently across the plane. It smashed into the bulkhead and fell in pieces to the floor.
"God damn it, God damn it, God damn it!" He was shaking. He strode away from the others into his office, and shut the door.
000000
It was a shaken and damp-eyed Donna who scooped her son into her arms twenty minutes later.
"You dreadful boy!" she gasped. "Noah, how could you?"
But she hugged him to her as if she was never going to let him go.
"This is your friend?" she asked, when she'd finally allowed him to disentangle himself from her. "Cathy?" She had only heard the name from Betty.
Cat nodded. She was too much in awe of Donna to correct her.
"Cat," Noah said, firmly. "It's really Catalina," he added, "but never Cathy, except to teachers, and people who don't know."
"Catalina is a lovely name," Donna said, putting out her hand to take the girl's. "And Cat is sweet, too. How are you feeling, dear?"
"Fine, thank you," Cat murmured, so shyly Donna had to lean forward to hear her.
"We were shot!" Noah said, his eyes blazing with excitement.
"Shhhhh, Noah!" Cat turned on him, her voice suddenly quite audible and ringing with piratical authority. "Shut up! Remember what the doctor said? We weren't supposed to tell your mother!"
"I'd already heard," Donna said. Josh had called her as soon as he'd pulled himself together. She'd had a bad time of it afterwards, and her head was still spinning from the news that her eight-year-old son had actually had a bullet shot through him, but now that he was here, in front of her, moving and talking and unquestionably alive, she was starting to calm down a little.
"Oh, that's all right then," Cat said, beaming up at her with a face so full of light that Donna saw at once why her son had wanted to be with this girl so badly that he'd thrown every other consideration to the winds.
"The doctor said I'm going to have a scar," Cat added, her eyes dancing.
"Me too!" Noah said, with a bounce. It was clear to Donna that they were expecting congratulations, so she smiled and nodded and said that was very cool.
"They'll match!" Cat pointed out, eagerly. And then her eyes suddenly fluttered away from Donna's, and a flush rose in her cheeks.
"That's wonderful," Donna said. "Would you like something to eat now?"
Cat nodded.
"And can I call my mother?" she asked. "She was expecting me to ages ago. She'll be worried."
"Betty's already phoned her," Donna said. "She should be here any minute now. How about a grilled-cheese sandwich and some soup? Tomato? Or chicken? Noah's grandmother makes the best chicken-noodle soup in the world, and there's some in the fridge."
"I'd like that very much," Cat said, and followed Donna into the kitchen, leaving Noah to the tearful embraces of his grandmothers-and his grandfather's rather sterner clap on the shoulder, accompanied by the dreaded words, "You and I need to have a talk, young man."
000000
Dr. Pierce and his wife had accompanied Noah back to the lighthouse, at Donna's request.
"I think," the doctor said to her quietly, "you'll find that Noah's had a bit of a wake-up call. I spelled out for him in grisly detail just what that bullet could have done to him. And to his friend, which I think was what really sank in. He turned a lovely shade of green while I was talking, and threw up a few minutes later."
"Good," Donna said, fervently. And then, "Is she really going to be all right? The girl-Catalina?"
"She'll be fine. They'll both have sore arms for a while, but as long as they keep the bandages clean and take the stuff I've prescribed, they'll be perfectly all right."
"I still don't understand what happened. Were they shot at twice? It seems so strange that they were both just grazed along the arm."
"It was a bit of a fluke. He had his arm around her-because of the cold, they've both been at great pains to assure me-and the bullet went right between their arms, where they were touching. It grazed them both, but it didn't do any serious damage."
"How-how extraordinary." Donna's voice trembled.
"It is, rather. I've only seen something like it once before, in Korea. It's a good thing it's winter; their coats gave them a little extra padding for it to pass through. Or rather, hers did, and Noah's sweaters. He wasn't wearing a coat; I gather he'd put it on that dummy he sent down the hill with Sally on his sled."
Donna nodded.
"I'll have to find her another coat," she said, because she knew if she let herself think about bullets and shock waves and Noah's thin little arms she'd start to cry again. "That one's ruined."
"It's too thin for this weather anyway," the doctor said, with a sudden flash of anger. "She's living on Ocean Front Drive, did you know? Her mother's a domestic; she and the child live in with the family she works for. Millions of dollars in real estate, and the owners are letting a child who sleeps under their roof go around in weather like this, in a rag like that. Her boots aren't lined, either. The family's dog probably has warmer clothes than she does. I don't know how people like that can live with themselves."
"I don't suppose they ever think about it," Donna said, sadly. "They probably never see her, even when she's right in front of them. I didn't. Noah says he's known her for years; they met on the beach, when he was four. I remember he was always playing with a little girl back then, but I never really knew anything about her. I never tried to know anything about her. I never really tried to talk to her, or to her mother."
"Why would you?"
"I would have, if we'd been at home, and if-" She broke off and flushed. "I thought it was just a summer thing. You know-you go on vacation and the kids play with whoever's there to play with, but then you go home and you don't think about them any more. I didn't think it was worth my while to make any effort."
"You were on vacation. And you were busy with Sally."
Donna sighed.
"I wish that was all of it."
"Isn't it?"
She shook her head.
"I do remember her mother a little. We would wave at each other. I think I said hello to her sometimes. But I never talked to her. I didn't think we'd have anything in common. I-I could tell she was a domestic. I didn't mind that-I didn't think Noah shouldn't be playing with her daughter, or anything like that. But I didn't think I'd have anything to say to her, or she'd have anything to say to me. So I never even tried."
"Well," Dr. Pierce said, glancing over at Noah and Cat, who-together with Sally-had finished their soup and sandwiches and were now engaged in a competition to see who could gobble down the most cookies in the least amount of time, "I'm sure you won't have any trouble finding something to talk about with her now."
000000
Betty had tried Mariana's cell phone five times, but couldn't get an answer. She'd asked Cat for her address as well as her mother's number, so finally she got in her car and headed out to Ocean Front Drive. She thought about Mariana and Cat all the way there. Surely, she thought, almost any job would be better than that job. She thought about the account Josh and Donna had set up for her, and wondered if Mariana would let her help her with it, or if she should just quit her job at the Salty Dog and let Mariana have it. Her manager would listen to her if she told him who would make a good replacement for her. . . .
The last light had faded from the sky now. Some of the houses looked dark and empty, but others were lit up like shopping malls. Betty thought it was just Christmas lights she was seeing when she finally turned into the Maxwells' driveway. She got a shock when she saw half a dozen police cars, some with their engines running and their lights and flashers on, and big floodlights set up to illuminate the property. Even though Noah had been found, the Service hadn't finished its investigation of the Maxwells.
It took considerable courage for Betty to drive up to the house and get out of her car. She knew all the local police, of course, but she didn't know most of the agents and felt no confidence that they would recognize her, even though she was one of the Lymans' closest friends in Maine. And the house itself intimidated her. She could stand up to the Maxwells when she was on her own turf, but this was theirs. She knew she could hardly expect a warm welcome after the treatment she'd dished out to them at the Salty Dog that afternoon. She wouldn't have expected a warm welcome anyway, from what she'd heard about them from Mariana.
But for Mariana's sake she did drive up to the house and get out. An agent by the front door asked what she wanted there. Explaining was complicated: she got flustered and mentioned Josh and Noah, which got her into just the kind of tangle she had been afraid of. Saying she was Joe McCarthy's mother didn't help. The next day things would have been different-Joe's picture would be all over the papers as the cop who'd caught the Christmas Assassin and saved the President's son-but it wasn't the next day yet. The man Betty was talking to had no idea who Joe was, and cared a whole lot less.
The agent's face was hard and his tone hovered around the local temperature with the wind-chill factored in. Betty was starting to wish desperately that she hadn't come when another agent emerged from a trailer and came over to see what was going on. He recognized her at once, and told the other man that she had Priority One status at the lighthouse. After that, everything changed in a flash. She was ushered inside, the first agent went to get Mariana, and the second asked her if she'd like a cup of coffee.
The Maxwells were in the living room now. The senior agent was just telling them that he wasn't closing the investigation yet, but he wasn't going to bring them in, either. They could stay at home on their own recognizance, but they'd be under surveillance and would be arrested if they tried to leave town. Max was huffing and puffing and Sabrina was shrieking about lawsuits. The agent said they could do whatever they wanted, but they'd find they were just throwing their money away: there was no question Noah had been in their car, and the agency hadn't closed down the possibility of charging them with kidnapping the President's son.
That shut even Sabrina up-at least, until she saw Betty standing in her front hall.
"Who is that?!" she screamed. "And what is she doing in my house?"
The second agent appeared with the coffee in a styrofoam cup, and handed it to Betty.
"Your friend will be here in a minute," he said. "She was just feeding the baby."
"Who is this?" Sabrina shrieked again. "Why have you let her into my house? And why are you giving her my coffee?"
"It's not your coffee, ma'am," the agent said, wearily. "It's from the trailer outside."
Sabrina barely even blinked. "But why have you brought this woman into my house?" she demanded again.
"Isn't she a friend of yours?"
"Certainly not! I've never seen her in my life!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, ma'am." There was only the tiniest flicker of irony in the agent's voice. "I thought you must know her. You've been telling us how well you know the President and his wife, and I know this lady is good friends with both of them."
Sabrina flushed.
"I said I know the President from the yacht club," she said, stiffly. "I must have missed this-lady-there."
Betty smiled.
"I'm no member of the yacht club," she said. "And neither is Josh-the President, I mean. He won't dine there because of that row about the way they were treating their staff. He and Donna always go to Gagnon's when they eat out-or to the Salty Dog, where I work. We have met, though-I waited on you there this afternoon."
Sabrina's mouth opened and shut and opened again several times, making her look rather like a very long, very thin, very blonde fish.
"That's nothing to boast about," Max grunted. "It was disgraceful service."
"I know," Betty agreed. "It was. But not as disgraceful as the way you go after that pretty young woman who looks after your baby, or the way your wife treats her little girl."
Max turned an ugly shade of purple. Sabrina whipped around and fixed him with a Medusa-like glare.
"I knew it!" she shrieked. "I knew you were up to something with that little bitch! I should have got rid of her years ago!"
"I haven't done a thing," Max protested.
The sound of Tyler's screaming cut through their quarrel. Mariana came into the room, the furious child in her arms.
"What's happened, Betty?" she asked fearfully. "Oh, please, don't tell me something has happened to my Catalina!"
Betty took her arm and led her into the hall. A minute later Mariana ran back into the living room, her eyes wide with distress.
"I have to go," she cried, over Tyler's howling. "My baby's been hurt! I have to go to her. Betty's going to take me."
"You can't just leave!" Sabrina gasped. "You have to look after Tyler!"
"Not now, I can't now!" Mariana looked astounded. "Of course I can't stay now. I have to go to my little girl!"
"But what about Tyler?" Sabrina looked astounded, too.
"You can take care of him for an hour, surely?" Mariana said, and thrust the screaming child into his mother's arms.
A strong smell suddenly filled the air. Sabrina's face contracted in a grimace of horror.
"He needs his diaper changed," Mariana called over her shoulder as she ran out of the room.
000000