Flashback by Justine Davis (classic reads .txt) 📕

“Or was it simpler? Did she just get in your way? One too many of your pet bills voted down because of her? One too many of your pork-barrel riders exposed?”

He spun around and stabbed at the intercom console on his desk. He yelled into the speaker. He got the response Alex suspected. Nothing.

“Fine,” he snarled. “I’ll throw you out myself.”

“Why don’t you just kill me, like you did Marion?” Alex suggested. “Isn’t that how you get rid of people who get in your way?”

“You’re insane. You have no proof of any of this.”

It was the claim Alex had been waiting for. “Proof? You want proof?”

She took a step toward him. She was nearly as tall as he was, and a lot more fit. She held up her hand in front of his reddened face, and began to tick off items.

“E-mail traced to a computer in your offices. Proof that that same computer hacked into mine for my travel and hotel data. Cell phone records, showing calls from numbers assigned to you to the man who tried to kill me out in the desert, and the man who tried to run me down with my own car here. Phone records, post office box records, here and in Phoenix, library computer records, all released under subpoena. All with times corresponding to the attacks you orchestrated.”

“What is this, some kind of political conspiracy? Do you really think you can bring me down?”

“I don’t have to, Senator. You’ve already done it yourself. We’ve got the man you hired ten years ago. And the man you hired to kill that man. We’ve got the money trail on their payments. We’ve got the details on that RPG you arranged to have fall off a military transport truck. We’ve got testimony of everyone you sucked into your evil little world. You thought you’d stay safe by parceling it all out, didn’t you? Thought as long as nobody knew the whole, you’d be safe.”

“You’re insane.”

Her voice dropped as anger vibrated through her. “Insanity,” she nearly hissed, “is using, God damn you, your own granddaughter. Using her library card to communicate with your hired killer.”

The senator’s face reddened even further at her last words.

“Oh, yes, we know it all.” It had taken them two weeks to pull it all together, but they did have it all now. And it would, as it already had in some quarters, stun the country. She continued to slam him with all of it, the list of all the things they’d uncovered seemingly endless.

“Shut up,” he finally screamed.

“Give it up, Senator. It’s over.”

“You’ll never make any of this stick.”

“Still feeling Teflon coated?” she said. “It won’t last. Because you see, we have the final nail for your coffin. A signed confession from someone quite familiar to you. In fact, he’s right there in that picture, next to you.”

He looked at the framed photograph of himself with the then-president and several others.

“That weasel,” he whispered. “I should have known he couldn’t be trusted.”

“When you make these kind of choices, Senator, no one can be trusted.”

She saw the change come over his face, then saw his expression morph into that of a cornered rat.

“You’re right,” he said, backing away carefully. “Sometimes the only one you can trust is yourself.”

“You should have just killed her yourself. Then you really might have gotten away with it.”

“I’ll still get away with it,” he said as his hand darted into a desk drawer and came up with a handgun, “as long as you don’t leave this building.”

“I take it back,” she said.

“Oh, you think it’s that easy?” he said as he waved the small, silver weapon at her. “Recant and I’ll let you walk out of here?”

“I didn’t mean that. I meant about not trusting you.” He looked puzzled. “I did. I trusted you to do something exactly this stupid.”

“We’ll see about that. You and I are going to take a drive now.”

“No, thanks. Some people I just won’t get in a car with.”

He swore then, a foul assessment of her and women in general.

“Your world’s just not the same anymore, is it?” she said with mock sympathy. “It was better when all women were only good for one thing.”

He swore again, and gestured at her with the gun. She smiled.

“You really should keep up with the times, Senator,” she said cheerfully. She flicked at the small American flag lapel pin on her jacket. “Camera,” she said. “And microphone. Amazing what they can do these days.”

He stared at her, at the pin, disbelief on his face. “Did you really think I’d come in here unprepared? Is your opinion of all women really that low?” Then she spoke into the lapel pin. “Stop me before I get on a soap box.”

The door behind them, into the outer office, swung open. The senator swung around to look, but Alex kept her eyes on his face. She knew the moment when her grandfather walked in by the sudden blanching of the man’s face. And then he seemed to crumple before her eyes, as if all the pomposity and arrogance had truly been mere hot air, which was escaping, now that the world would know what he’d become.

“I can’t believe that even you have sunk this low,” G.C. said.

“Go back to your farm,” the senator retorted, but although it was clearly meant to be an insult there was no spirit in it.

Next through the door was Justin. He winked at her, and she smiled back. Then she nodded at the beaten man. Justin took the cue, walked over and put a hand on the Armani-clad shoulder.

“Senator Eldon Waterton, you are under arrest.”

Chapter 22

“Leave it to Alex to rock the world,” Kayla said.

“Somebody needs to remind you you’re supposed to be a lab rat.” That was Darcy Steele.

“Couldn’t you find a killer with a higher profile than the most powerful senator in the country?” Josie Lockworth chimed in.

The teasing was coming from all sides, and