Free Buffalo West Wing by Julie Hyzy

meant that I should have notified the two of them—and I couldn’t imagine why they would—we had a problem.
    “Why are you asking me?”
    “Why, do you have something to hide?” Bost asked.
    “Of course not. But I find this questioning peculiar.”
    “Peculiar?” Zeller repeated. “And why is that?”
    “Does Agent MacKenzie know I’m down here?”
    “That’s not important right now,” Bost said.
    “It most certainly is important,” I said, standing. “I’m willing to help this investigation in any way I can, but it seems to me that you ought to clear it with him before you start personally interrogating staff members.”
    “Sit down.”
    “Agent Bost,” I said, refusing to sit, “You were in that first meeting in Paul’s office. You know as well as I do that we are not to discuss this matter with anyone who was not included in that meeting.” I shot a pointed look at Zeller. “If Tom ... er ... Agent MacKenzie wants to bring others up to date, then he should be the one to do it.”
    “Are you willing to risk the children’s safety?”
    “Of course not.” I looked from one to the other. Both towered over me, but I was too angry to be nervous. “It sounds to me as though you are questioning Agent MacKenzie’s orders. You’re both new here, and maybe you think you can make a name for yourselves by working behind his back. You go right ahead and do that. See where it gets you. But don’t involve me.”
    They didn’t budge.
    “If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do in the kitchen.”
    Zeller looked to Bost, who still stared down at me. “No one is questioning Agent MacKenzie,” he said quietly. “I want to be very clear on that point.”
    The look in Bost’s eyes was downright murderous. If I were the First Lady, I might be thrilled to have such a scary guy protecting my kids, but I would certainly limit their interaction with him. He would give me nightmares.
    “Got it. Very clear. Can I go now?”
    He hesitated just one moment more before stepping aside. Zeller moved away too, granting me access to the door. “Have a lovely afternoon,” I said. “It’s been nice talking with you.”
    It wasn’t until I got back into the hall that my heart started to speed-beat, its staccato palpitations quickening my pace. What had that been about?
    I’d gotten about twenty feet into the hallway when I heard my name called. I turned. Bost stood in the doorway of the Secret Service office with a finger raised. “I expect you to keep information about this meeting quiet.”
    Uh-huh. Right.
     
    “What’s wrong?” Cyan asked when I got back.
    I waved her off. “Nothing really.”
    “What were they asking about? Are you in trouble because of me? I’m so sorry.”
    “Cyan,” I said, shaking my head, “really, it was nothing. I think they’re just a couple of goons who think that if they do an end-run around Tom, they’ll be on the fast track for promotion.”
    “Don’t they know this is just about as high as you can get in the Secret Service?”
    “I’m sure they do, but they also know that they report to Tom. I can’t understand what they’re up to.”
    Cyan tilted her head. “What did they ask you?”
    I didn’t want to get into it. There was no way to express my thoughts on the subject without divulging things Tom and Paul had expressly asked us not to share. “I think the two of them are headed for trouble, that’s all.”
    Cyan bit her lip. “Speaking of headed for trouble ...”
    “What happened?”
    Her hands came up. “No, nothing here. I just was wondering if you might have some time tonight?”
    “You mean after work?”
    Hesitant at first, her words came out in a rush. “I’ve got a lot going on right now and you’re always so sure of yourself. I need some advice, I guess. Or maybe just someone willing to listen. I thought maybe you and I could go for coffee, or a drink, or something.”
    Startled by her comment about me always being so sure of myself, I took a