it so he didn’t even have to show up to court to sign the divorce papers. Gave his proxy to a lawyer.”
Alex opened his mouth to defend the senator then stopped when he saw the ice in Kat’s eyes. She put an arm around her mother.
“Mrs. Driscoll, I know this is a difficult situation...”
“Look, young man, I know where you come from in DC—people have affairs and children out of wedlock. That’s not how it works in these parts. I was raised better, and I won’t have people believing my little girl is illegitimate.”
This is going to be tougher than I thought.
“I understand how you feel, but if you don’t dispute this story, they’ll hound you all the way to the elections.” He put his elbows on his knees and folded his hands.
“Then let them.”
Kat’s hand went to her neck and he watched her turn over a pendant in her fingers. “Mom, we don’t want to deal with the media.”
“They will pick apart your lives, sensationalize every detail,” he chimed in, his voice low.
“I want Bill to claim his daughter. Publicly. It’s her birthright.” Emilia sat back, lips pressed together.
Alex stared at her. Oh, boy. Was she the anonymous source to the media?
“I’m not the one who started this thing, but I’m sure as heck gonna finish it,” she responded to his unasked question. Something in the way she said it set his intuition tingling. What more is she hiding? Her fingers played with the flowered fabric of her skirt.
“We can reimburse you for your inconvenience,” he said carefully.
Both Kat and Emilia glared at him and he realized it was the wrong thing to say.
“This is not about money. It’s about honor.” Emilia clasped her hands in her lap.
Several thoughts raced through his mind: he could have the senator call this crazy woman and talk sense into her. Or they could discredit her with the media. His phone buzzed and he excused himself to go to the kitchen.
“Yes,” he barked. Crista was on the other line.
“Alex, one of the students uploaded a video from her lectures. I just emailed it.”
Hanging up, he clicked on the email. The video came to life and he activated his Bluetooth earpiece so Kat and Emilia wouldn’t be able to hear it in the living room. He had to watch only a few minutes to get the gist of it.
He strode into the living room and switched to speaker on his BlackBerry. He pointed the video at Kat.
“Did you really say that the IED robots are a waste, and the money should be spent saving lives at home?”
She gazed at him unflinchingly. “I’m a political-science professor lecturing in class. I was legitimately criticizing his policies.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “And you’re a registered Democrat.”
“Excuse me, but when did that become a crime?”
“It’s not, unless you’re the secret daughter of a Republican senator in a hotly contested race. You just gave the other candidate a two-point boost in the polls.”
Her eye roll told him that not only did she not care, but she wasn’t inclined to help him.
“I did a whole class on the Democratic candidate, too, pointing out his flaws. I present a balanced view to my students.”
“That’s good. Do you remember what day that class was?” He began typing an email to Crista to see if she could get that video. Senator Roberts’s poll numbers were falling every second, and with them, his odds of getting the bill passed. If the senate rank and file thought Roberts wasn’t going to win reelection, they would stop supporting him on the IED issue. Alex had spent a lot of time on things that wasted taxpayer money: initiatives that didn’t improve people’s lives, investments that were downright wrong. The IED technology was the one purchase he knew would save his soul, or at least give him an image other than that of his buddy lying on the desert sand with his leg blown off. He wasn’t going to let anything get in his way.
“I don’t want any more videos of me out there.” Kat’s frosty voice pulled him back into the moment.
“Then go outside and tell them this is a nonstory.”
Emilia stood. “Mr. Santiago, please leave my house. Now.”
He looked at Kat, who also stood and put an arm around her mother.
The doorbell rang, followed by loud knocks. They all started at each other.
Emilia Driscoll was the first to speak. “The vultures are back.”
“CALL THE POLICE. They’re not allowed to be on your property. They need to stay on the street.”
Kat began rummaging through the drawer in the hallway credenza. Everything was happening so fast, she needed a minute to catch her breath.
“What’re you doing?” Alex said impatiently.
“Looking for the number to the local police department.”
“It’s 911.”
“The nonemergency number.”
He picked up the phone, dialed and held it out to her. “Hello, what’s your emergency?”
“Hi, it’s not really an emergency, but I need the police.”
“Are you in danger, ma’am?” came the dispassionate voice.
‘Well, not really, but—”
Alex snatched the phone from her. “There are twenty people on the front lawn, banging on the front door and threatening to come inside. We need the police.” He rattled off the address.
Kat heard the woman put him on hold then come back and ask for his name. “I can’t talk right now. They’re breaking down the door.” He hung up the phone.
Kat stared at him.
“You lied.”
“I did not lie. I stated the facts in a dramatic way. I want the police to get here quickly.”
“And what if there’s a real crime being committed, like a woman being raped or someone getting murdered?”
“When was the last time something like that happened in this town? Most likely, they’re out patrolling the highway and you just saved a citizen from getting a speeding ticket.”
“That’s Washington logic,” she muttered. He was a typical man, bending the truth to suit himself. If someone got hurt in the process, so be it. Driven by his own needs, he didn’t care whom he trampled along the way.
They heard the scream of sirens. The pounding on the door stopped.
Kat went to the drapes and peeked out. Four police cars came to a stop, and as officers emerged, the reporters began retreating to their vans. She had to admit it was an effective idea, but she still didn’t like Alex’s manipulations. He’d been playing her since they met, and she had to remember that the sincerity in his eyes was also an act.
An officer walked up to the house and she opened the door when he knocked. She ushered him in and then noticed that Alex wasn’t in the living room. Her mother’s eyes flicked toward the bedroom.
Kat explained the situation to the gray-haired, heavyset policeman who patted her hand in a fatherly gesture.
“You’re helping my daughter with her master’s thesis.” Kat blinked back her surprise as he told her his daughter’s name. She was one of