Page 22 of The Consigliere

She appears more interested than shocked and shakes her head. “So what? He has enough lawyers to deflect any heat from him. I’m almost positive that wasn’t the reason.”

Now she has my full attention and I say with interest.

“Does it matter?”

“Not to me, but I’d be questioning everything if I were you.”

“What makes you say that?”

I’m starting to get irritated, and she leans forward and stares me straight in the eye.

“All of my life, I’ve been controlled by my parents. What to do, say, and how to act. They have molded me into the person I am today, and it was for one thing. Marriage to the best.”

“And you think that’s Jefferson?”

I laugh out loud, and she shrugs. “I never questioned it, but something my father said made me doubt that.”

“What did he say?”

“That Jefferson wasn’t good enough for me and he wished things were different.”

“So, he took the first exit he could and pushed you through it?”

I’m a little surprised by this conversation because I never considered for one minute that Jared had his own agenda. I believed I was the one calling the shots, but now I’m not so sure.

She leans back and says coolly, “I’ll ask you again, where are we going?”

“And I’ll tell you again, you’ll know when I damn well want you to.”

I stand and motion for Cesare to follow me and as we reach the back of the plane, I snap at the attendant.

“Bring the bottle of whiskey and two glasses.”

Cesare grins with amusement as I rake my fingers through my hair and take the seat by the window.

“She makes a valid point.” Cesare says as he sits opposite and takes the glass from the attendant, who can’t move quickly enough.

As he pours the whiskey into our glasses before he leaves, I replay what Abigail said. Something is telling me she’s right and I say to my friend, “What are your thoughts?”

“That there’s more to this than we gave Jared credit for. It struck me as odd that he agreed to the meeting in full view of Washington’s elite. To allow his daughter to leave with us was social suicide.”

“Or he wanted someone to know.”

“Do you think we were set up?”

“Possibly.” I swirl the liquid around my glass and cast my mind back on the people at the table.

“Do you believe Judge Stevenson was in on it?”

“He was mighty quiet the entire time.”

“They all were.”

Cesare exhales sharply. “I’ll do some digging. Maybe you should be a bit nicer to our guest. She may have something to give us.”

“You think?” I let his words register for a while as I digest them. Perhaps she does have information that could help and she’s right there was a reason her father played along without a fight.

“Does it change your plans?”