Empire of Lies - Whitney G. Page 0,99
I’ve rehearsed for this moment hundreds of times, played the role inside and out, and now it’s time to see if my father is still as good of an actor as he thinks he is.
The screen onstage turns on again, and more images of him on the campaign trail begin to play. The crowd becomes transfixed by a short video of him purchasing a jacket for a needy boy in the park.
They give him more applause. More cheers.
As another feel-good clip plays, I dial the number that’s linked to his emergency line and watch as his secretary picks up the cell phone.
“Mr. Leonardo Thatchwood is unavailable at this time,” she answers, her smile unwavering. “How may I assist you?”
“It’s an emergency,” I say. “Please give him the phone now.”
“Miss, I’m unable to do that without knowing who you are and what you need from him. If you tell me how you got this number, or what’s going on—”
“It’s about his daughter, Meredith,” I say, cutting her off. “The police have found her alive. I think it’s a miracle…”
Her eyes widen, and she leaps out of her chair. She rushes across the ballroom, pushing her way through all of his suits and supporters, holding the phone out to my father.
She’s mouthing, “Take this call right now,” and he’s giving her an annoyed smile, since he can’t show any emotion other than happiness for the cameras.
“Yes?” he answers. “Who do I have the pleasure of speaking to right now?”
“It’s me, Dad.” I keep my voice firm. “Meredith. You know, the daughter you paid to have murdered a few months ago.”
His face turns ghost-white within seconds, and he struggles to pose for a photo with the founder of an elite prep school. “Who is this really?” he says, forcing a smile again. “I’m not interested in playing any games right now.”
“No one is playing games, Dad,” I say. “Don’t you recognize my voice? Then again, since we haven’t spoken in a while, I guess you’ve forgotten…”
He swallows and stands still, and the screen behind him suddenly stops playing nice videos. Now it’s playing the start of the video I first saw in route to Mexico—him sitting down in front of the flower shop guy.
It’s not as grainy as it was before, though. Now, it’s perfectly clear.
It’s the extended version of the film, and the pleasantries are exchanged first.
“Mr. Thatchwood,” Flower Shop guy says. “Pleasure to see you again.”
“Pleasure’s all mine, Alex.” He looks over his shoulder. “Crazy weather we’re having, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Crazy indeed…”
“Why did you want me to meet you here?” My dad checks his watch. “I have a really busy campaign schedule.”
“It’s protocol,” Flower Shop Guy says. “Making sure we’re on the same page before we take things any further.”
“I paid you the deposit. We’re definitely on the same page.”
Paling, my father looks up at the screen as this scene plays. Since he knows the ugly, revealing words that are soon to follow, he quickly pushes his way through the crowd, rushing his way toward the back of the room.
“Once we do this, there’s no going back,” Flower Guy says, right as my father makes it to the door.
“I know. I don’t want her to suffer, though. Nothing too hurtful okay?”
The crowd sucks in a collective gasp, and the room suddenly becomes silent. A few women in the audience shout in disbelief, and my heart drops all over again like I’m hearing his hurtful words for the first time.
He keeps the phone up to his ear, taking the small spiral staircase down to the other ballroom, to the hidden elevators where he can escape.
“You’re missing the best part of the film,” I say. “The part when you say that you want me, gone-gone.”
“I still do.” He hisses. “Now, more than ever.”
I swallow, keeping calm like Michael taught me. Not showing any emotions, ignoring the heavy ache in my chest. “Because you honestly think that I was a liability to your stupid ass campaign? That murder was the best way for you to win?”
“I wanted you gone because you’re a cunt just like your mother.” His words are slow and searing, the first ones that slip under my skin. “You only care about yourself, and you’re completely ungrateful for the lifestyle I’ve provided for you. You’re willing to embarrass me to no end, willing to cost me everything.”
“I’ve never done anything to hurt you,” I say. “I hated you at times, but—”
“What did you do to prevent the guy I hired from