limb with a chain saw in your hand like you did with the Justice Green story. And others."
"This bears no resemblance to those. None at all."
"And I don't want it to. After a series of fiascoes, you're just now regaining some credibility. Can you imagine the shit storm these theories of yours will create if they get leaked?"
"Can you imagine how far and fast my career will soar if my theories prove to be right?"
"Before you start fantasizing about your own magazine show, you'd better acknowledge what you've got. A hunch, Barrie. That's it. A hunch, which in journalism amounts to zero."
"No, it doesn't," she argued emphatically. "Unless you're actually there when somebody jumps off a ledge, or an airplane crashes, or a killer is caught standing over the body with a smoking gun in his hand, every good story begins with a hunch, a gut instinct that tells you there's more to the situation than meets the eye.
"You probably won't believe this, Daily, but my motives aren't purely selfish. I'm concerned for Vanessa. She was stretched about as thin as I've ever seen anyone stretched. Say I'm way off base and the baby died of SIDS, as reported. Maybe grief has driven her insane. If she's becoming an embarrassment to the White House, isn't it
EXCLUSIVE 67
possible that they shuttled her off somewhere to keep her out of the public eye?"
"You think the President is holding her against her will?"
Put that way, her hypothesis sounded ludicrous. "That -would be totally implausible, wouldn't it?"
"No more implausible than anything else we've tossed around." He thought about it for a moment. "Then again, power has its own unique psychology.
History has shown that to some presidents, any means justified the end. I guess that could extend to the sequestering of an emotionally unbalanced first lady who might stand in the way of reelection."
Barrie shuddered. "God, our theories only get worse."
"They're still just theories, Barrie."
"Stop reminding me," she muttered.
"That's my job."
"You're no longer my boss."
"True. I'm just your friend. Look, Barrie." He paused to take a few wheezing breaths. "You've got the world's approval now. For once, go easy on yourself."
She resented his tone. "Psychology time, Daily? Time to open up Barrie's head and see what makes her tick?"
"I already know what makes you tick. More importantly, you know, too."
"Then why discuss it?" she said angrily.
"Can you look me in the eye and tell me that your motivation for pushing forward with this dangerous story has nothing to do with winning the approval of two people who-"
"Yes, I can look you in the eye and tell you that. Besides, no matter what my motivation is, it's a story that needs to be told. Agreed?"
"If the story is indeed there, yes," he answered grudgingly.
68 Sandra Brown
"Okay, so stop bringing up my scar-inflicting childhood and help me."
"How?"
"Who would talk to me? Senator Armbruster?"
Daily shook his head. "No matter what he believed in his heart, he'd take the company line and defend it with his dying breath. He's a politician down to his toenails. He wouldn't malign anybody his party placed in the White House, even if it was Jack the Ripper. And certainly not his son-in-law. Almost singlehandedly, he put David Merritt in office." "Okay. So, who else knows the Merritts that intimately? If there was someone close to them who'd had a falling out. Or someone who-" Suddenly a fresh thought yanked her up straight. "That-that . . . soldier who rescued the hostages."
"Bondurant?"
"Bondurant! Yes! Gary Bondurant."
"Gray."
"Right. Gray. He was thick as thieves with the Merritts. Maybe he'd talk to me."
It hurt Barrie to hear the rasp-gasp-rattle in Daily's laugh. "You'd have better luck getting an interview with one of the faces on Mount Rushmore.
They're a lot friendlier and more talkative than Bondurant. He's about as approachable as a cobra."
"What's his story? Where'd he come from?"
Daily shrugged. "Your guess is as good
Legs McNeil, Jennifer Osborne, Peter Pavia