The other two women started to speak and she cut them off. “Think about it,” she said. “A moderate Republican, attending an event with a liberal Democrat in a plain demonstration of bipartisanship. And then, bam, tragedy strikes as these two symbols of compromise are struck down by an apparent right wing nutjob who hates cooperation, and, oh, also hates religious and ethnic minorities.”
Christine could barely conceal her acerbic tone. “Put down the crack pipe, Punky.”
“I don’t care if you don’t believe me,” Caroline said. “I know I’m right.”
Ellen put her arm around Caroline. “You can’t be right.”
“Because it’s too horrible to comprehend, or because it makes complete sense?”
Ellen rested her head on Caroline’s shoulder. “Don’t talk about things like that.”
Christine studied her closely. “Have you told Jack about this?”
“Not yet.”
“How did you come up with this theory? You’ve never been one to buy into anything that defies logic and reason. And this defies both.”
“It just makes sense. I can’t explain it. I get this jarring vibe from him. Then the assassination happens. Then Santos picks Gunderson as his VP. It’s too coincidental.”
“You think it was planned that way from the beginning?”
It wouldn’t surprise her, but she had nothing to go on. Not yet. And if she was going to believe in any conspiracy, she may as well rush into it at full speed. But she’d already said too much. “I don’t know.”
“You’re being absurd.” Christine turned to Ellen. “What do you think?”
Ellen laughed softly. “This has thrown me for a curve. I don’t know what to think.”
“You can’t repeat this to anyone,” Christine said. “I mean it.”
“Because I sound crazy?”
“That’s a consideration. But you also can’t go around making wild statements without proof.”
“I suspect Jack will say the same thing.”
Christine smiled slightly. “Every once in a while he’s right.”
“When he agrees with you.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t trust Santos, either.”
“No.” Rare candor from Senator Sullivan. “I don’t. But I don’t think he’d arrange to kill the president. Just saying it out loud makes it sound even more nonsensical.”
“He might be a racist asshole but that doesn’t mean he’s a total monster,” Ellen said. “You’ve had too much to drink, Caroline. It’s been a stressful week.”
“Your grief is clouding your judgment,” Christine said.
Caroline knew she’d said too much. Perhaps it was better for her to let them think she was spouting off buzzed nonsense or other dark fantasies rather than positing a legitimate theory. “Maybe,” she said. “I liked Hendricks. I thought he had a lot of potential.”
Ellen stared down at her empty glass. “So did I. He was willing to reach across the aisle. That’s too rare. I was looking forward to seeing what we could accomplish.”
Caroline got up. She would drop it, for now. It wasn’t worth Christine and Ellen worrying about her or anything else. Best to pretend the conversation never happened. She twirled the stem of her own empty wineglass in her fingers. “Anyone need a refill?”
* * * * *
Any person surfing the internet could easily stumble upon conspiracy theories on any topic, and that held true in the days and weeks after President Hendricks died. Of course many rumors pertaining to the assassination were dismissed as implausible, ridiculous, and unrealistic, but Caroline pored over every website and blog posting, searching for any tiny bit of legitimacy.
She started researching other topics too. How to build an effective firewall. How to tap into existing wireless networks. How to really wipe the slate clean after an internet session. She found a few chatrooms, message boards, and websites and started to learn the coded language. It hadn’t been that hard to pick up; she’d been a drug prosecutor and many of the ideas behind the terminology were the same. She had some experience with IT issues and knew that nothing could be completely wiped from existence, but felt compelled to prepare herself. Just in case.
Caroline tried to express her fears to Jack, who dismissed them almost immediately. She was concerned that it was a nightmare scenario; he told her she was jumping to conclusions. She thought it was potentially an inside job; he thought it was merely a tragedy, albeit on a grander scale than most. She got worked up; he said to calm down. Discouraged by his continual dismissals, she lost her temper one evening and they ended up having a knockdown, drag out fight. One of the worst she could remember. She ended up storming out of the room, pissed off