Part 3 (1/2)

They'd been talking about a campaign flyer, and what form it should take. Or rather, she'd been talking, he'd been mostly saying yes or no.

”I won't use my father,” she said, getting to her feet and beginning to pace again, as she had several times since they'd begun this. Something about this man made her edgy, almost nervous, a feeling she wasn't used to. And when he touched her, either inadvertently or with intent, to point something out to her, the feeling got worse. Much worse.

”Not use. Remind.”

”They all know who my father is. Was. They don't need a picture to remind them.”

”Thousand words,” he said.

She nearly laughed. As it was, she turned to look at him, barely able not to grin. ”And just what,” she asked, ”would you know about a thousand words?”

For the barest instant, the corners of his mouth twitched. Whether, had he allowed it, it would have become a smile or a grimace, she wasn't sure. But she'd gotten to him, that she was sure of. And the knowledge sent a jolt of triumph through her that she didn't quite understand.

”Silly not to,” was all he said.

”Manipulative to,” she shot back, mimicking his mode of speech.

”Politics,” he said, paring it down to the essential. And she couldn't argue with that; what was politics, except manipulation? At least, the way Alden and others of his ilk practiced it, even on a small-town level.

”My father didn't,” she said as she came back from the doorway to the table. ”He just talked to people, they knew him, knew he had their best interests at heart.”

”Good intentions.”

”And the road to h.e.l.l, yes, I know. And so did my father.”

She walked over to his desk, looked at the big calendar that served as a blotter. It still sat on January, the month he'd died, still had some of the scrawled notes that were sometimes the only record of verbal agreements for purchases. That was all you needed with Jess Hill. And the people of Cedar knew it. They trusted him. Enough to elect him to a record six consecutive terms.

In the beginning she'd told herself she needed those notes-not all the transactions had been completed. But she knew now she just couldn't bear to remove those scribblings in his familiar, loved scrawl.

”He didn't just intend,” she said softly, ”he did. He got results.”

”Yes. You, too.”

”If I win.”

”Use the picture.”

Exasperated, she turned sharply to face him. ”And just how would that make me any different than Alden, playing on the death of his first wife and his son, going for the sympathy vote?”

He seemed to go very still for a moment.

”It's enough to make me sick, the thought of him in my dad's place,” she said, meaning it. ”Not just that, the sympathy ploy, but all this 'welfare of the children' stuff, when in truth he-”

She broke off suddenly, realizing she'd very nearly gone way too far with this man who, despite the intensity of the last ninety minutes, was still a stranger. It didn't matter that, despite his cryptic manner, she felt oddly comfortable with him; he was still a stranger, and she had no business mouthing off about her unproven and at this late date unprovable suspicions. ”What truth?”

His voice was soft, quiet, but there was an edge beneath it that made her even more wary.

”Nothing I can prove. Not against a man everyone thinks is a paragon.”

”Not everyone. You.”

”I'm a minority of one.”

”And who recruited you?”

She shrugged, anxious to leave the subject behind. ”Okay, maybe a half dozen who aren't under his spell. But it's still a solid brick wall.”

”Use the picture.”

”No.”

”He's the reason.”

”That I'm doing this? Yes. No one would ever have even approached me to run, if not for my father. But I'm still not going to use him. Or his...death, to try and gain some kind of advantage. I just won't.”

She was aware she was saying too much again. There was something about that annoyingly terse way of speaking that made you feel you needed to make up for his lack of words with too many of your own.

It suddenly occurred to her that that could be a very useful tool. And one he no doubt used to his advantage. ”A factor.”

”I know. Some people will vote for me for that reason alone. But I won't use it. I made that clear to the ones who asked me to run. Told them they should find someone else, if that's what they wanted.”

”If they had,” he said. It wasn't a question by inflection, but she knew it in fact was.

”I'd still be working against Alden. As hard as I am now.”

For a long moment he said nothing. And then, slowly, he nodded. ”You would.”

Again it wasn't a question, only this time it sounded more like a benediction. And that warmed her in a way that was absurd, given she barely knew the man.

It was a feeling she savored even as she worried about it.

Chapter 5.

It was worth the twenty-mile drive, St. John thought, to not be staying in Cedar. Although he hadn't liked it much when he'd realized what he was feeling at the discovery that the one inn Cedar boasted was closed for renovations was relief. He'd been so d.a.m.n sure, so positive that nothing could touch him here anymore, that those demons were long slain, never to rise again. He didn't like thinking he'd been wrong.

He walked across the surprisingly s.p.a.cious room he'd rented. From the road the place hadn't looked like much, just an older, well-kept motel with fewer than a dozen rooms. But the room was large, with furniture actually made of wood, not some veneered wood by-product, a comfortable seating area and a desk beside the unexpectedly large window with the even more unexpected view.

But St. John wasn't looking at the view. He knew the sweepingly wide and long territorial expanse, with a glimpse of the river through the thick trees, would be beautiful to most, but to him the river was only a jabbing reminder.

He was looking at the screen of the laptop that was open on the desk. The place didn't run to a wireless connection, or even broadband; that nicety of civilization hadn't made it to this largely rural area yet.

Fortunately he had at his disposal one of Redstone's resident geniuses' handy devices. Ian Gamble's encrypted adapter for his unique cell phone made it possible to use it as a modem with total confidence. It also gave him access to every part of the Redstone network, and, with a few keystrokes, his own personal system in his office.