The Fixer (The Fixer #1)(57)

Even with everything else going on, it hurt to hear that I mattered to Ivy. Turning away from Georgia before she could see the effect her words had on me, I took a few steps toward the far wall. My eyes landed on the picture behind the headmaster’s desk, and in the split second that followed, I knew that I wouldn’t get an opportunity like this again.

“How does your husband know the headmaster?” I asked, gesturing toward the photo like I’d seen it for the first time. I could feel my heart beating in my chest, hear it in my ears.

Georgia glanced at the photo from a distance, not paying it much mind. “Our youngest went to Hardwicke,” she said. “We try to donate something to the auction each year. Last spring, there was some water damage to the school. They were in need of big-ticket items, so we arranged for a weekend retreat at Camp David. The Presidential Retreat,” she clarified. “It’s occasionally open to the public, you know.”

A weekend at Camp David.

“Was the president’s attendance part of the prize?” I asked.

“Heavens, no,” Georgia said. “But William won the auction and invited Peter along. My husband, I’m afraid, has never been able to back down from one of Will’s challenges.”

I forced myself to pretend like there was nothing to read into those words. Like there was no reason, in particular, that I had asked.

But as Georgia and I parted ways and I left the administrative building, I couldn’t stop thinking that if William Keyes had won the auction, if he’d been the one to issue the invitations, then he was the one who’d brought the men in that picture together.

Including Judge Pierce and Vivvie’s father.





CHAPTER 43

“You’re quiet.” Bodie issued that statement with no small amount of suspicion.

“I’m always quiet.”

As Bodie pulled the car past the gates and out onto the street, he glanced at me just long enough to smirk. “And I’m always perceptive. This quiet is a different quiet.”

My mind was awash in the day’s events. Georgia’s visit. Vivvie and the article on Pierce. The two names from Henry’s list. Adam’s father being the one who had arranged the get-together in that photograph.

“I’m fluent in all varieties of Kendrick silences,” Bodie declared. “And you and your sister both stare very intently at absolutely nothing when the wheels are turning in here.” He lazily reached over and tapped the side of my head. I swatted his hand away.

“I have a lot to think about.”

“And would some of that lot concern a certain First Lady with sweet, Southern manners and the mind of Machiavelli?”

I snorted at that description of Georgia.

“How did you guess?” I asked Bodie.

“I didn’t.” He merged onto the highway. “I caught a glimpse of Mark pulling away as I pulled in.”

“Mark?” My brow wrinkled in confusion.

“Mark Maddox,” Bodie said. “He’s one of the agents on Georgia’s detail.”

“You’re on a first-name basis with the Secret Service?”

“I make it a point to learn names. Half of the time, the Secret Service wants to be noticed. Their presence is a deterrent.”

“And the other half of the time?” I asked.

“They fade into the background. They try not to engage, not to interfere. If you’re not careful, you forget they’re there.”

“Unless you know their names,” I said.

“Unless you know their names.” Bodie reached over and tapped the side of my head again.

“What was that for?” I asked disgruntledly.

“That,” he replied, “was for trying to distract me from the fact that when I asked you about Georgia, you didn’t answer.”

I was still processing my interaction with the First Lady. I wasn’t used to processing out loud. Bodie reached over and flicked my ear. Clearly, unlike Adam, he didn’t believe in driving with both hands on the wheel.

“Fine,” I said, before he could escalate further. “Yes, I’m thinking about the First Lady. She had a meeting with the headmaster today, supposedly.”

“Supposedly.” Bodie didn’t turn it into a question, but I responded like he had.

“She had me pulled out of class. Just to check on me, see how I was doing.”

“Of course,” Bodie said dryly.

“Of course.” This time, I didn’t make him press for more information. “She was fishing for details about what Ivy’s doing in Arizona.”

Bodie snorted. “I told Ivy we’d have to loop Georgia in sooner, rather than later. What did you say?”

“I told her that Ivy was just doing what the president asked—looking into Pierce’s background.” I paused. “And I asked her if her husband was really moving at an accelerated rate toward nominating Pierce.”

Bodie glanced over at me. “You saw the article in the Post?”

I nodded. “Vivvie came to school today. Her father’s funeral was this morning, and she came to school to find me, to show me the newspaper.”

“And what did Miss Georgia have to say about that article?” Bodie asked, drumming his fingers along the edge of the steering wheel.