solve the problem. Why don’t you have your guys at SSoF focus on that instead?”
Clint didn’t say anything, just stood there for a beat, then walked over to click on the TV. Grateful for the distraction, Tara did her best to focus on that and not the growing sick feeling inside her that her whole life was spinning out of control and she was powerless to stop it. The news was on and wouldn’t you know it, they were covering the story at her house. Perfect.
The volume was too low for her to hear over the bustle in the ER, but from reading the closed captions across the bottom, it was clear that they’d framed her as some progressive nut who only wanted free love and world peace. She rolled her eyes as she realized the TV was tuned to the conservative station, which had been railing against the legislation ever since it had first been proposed. Arms crossed, she scowled and continued to read the captions, now listing all the reasons why the bill wouldn’t pass. Too liberal. Too expensive. Too hard on local manufacturing.
Her frown deepened at that last one. Huh. Something clicked in her head and she pulled up her emails again, focusing on Jacob Bartlet’s. One of the reasons she’d never gotten along with him was the fact that his family business was one of the largest manufacturers in the area. Her suspicions grew and she started to wonder if he’d been the one to tip off the media, using them as leverage to pressure the board to make their support for the legislation drop. Maybe he’d even…no, he couldn’t be behind the attacks. Could he? She didn’t want to think it could be someone she actually knew, but they needed to consider every possibility, didn’t they?
“Hey,” she said to Clint, gesturing him over to see Bartlet’s bio page from his company’s website. “You should look into this guy. He’s on the board, but I feel like he’s just doing it for good press. I’m pretty sure he’s actually against the bill. And he was the first one to pipe up tonight, saying GGE should drop our public support of the legislation. Could he be the one behind all of this?”
“Maybe.” He gave an aggrieved sigh. “I’ll pass it on to Levon and Noah because, unfortunately, I’m not allowed to investigate any of this.” The words ground out like rocks in a blender, tinged with a level of frustration equal to Tara’s own. He pulled out his cell phone and called it in to the guys. When the call was done, he turned back to Tara, “The guys are gonna look into it.”
Tara glanced over at Ashley, who was thankfully otherwise occupied with the iPad one of the nurses had brought in for her to use. “Since you’re off the official investigation, maybe you and I should start an unofficial one ourselves, eh?”
At first Clint only blinked at her. But then as he seemed to consider the idea more, that small smile of his grew to a full-blown grin. “Maybe we should. That would keep me busy and keep you occupied, since the board won’t let you work on the campaign right now.”
“True enough,” she said, feeling lighter than she had all night. Tara stood and smiled. “Great. Then let’s get started, shall we?”
15
Clint sat outside the headquarters of Bartlet Manufacturing the next morning, determined to get to the bottom of who was behind these attacks before anyone else got hurt. It had been going on too long, and much as he hated to admit it, the slow progress was his own fault. He’d allowed himself to get distracted by Tara and Ashley and playing house with them. Yes, it was fun and way nicer than he’d expected, but that was no excuse for not getting the job done. It was time to get his head on straight and catch the bastard who’d tried to hurt Tara and his daughter.
First up, questioning Jacob Bartlet.
After running the gauntlet of security desk, receptionist, and administrative assistant, Clint was finally escorted back to a cushy corner office with lots of sunny windows and bookcases filled with pricey knickknacks that probably took the poor cleaning staff ages to dust each night.
“Mr. Bartlet,” Clint said, walking into the room with his hand extended. “Thank you for seeing me.”
The fifty-something guy behind the desk gave him a quick chin hike, then swiveled away in his leather executive chair to finish up the