Page 138 of Smoke Screen
The kid turned to his father again. “Dad!Please!”
His father looked across at him, the two exchanging some kind of silent message. “Son,” he said. “Calmdown.”
That tone. Like the jagged edge of a thousand tiny razors. She didn’t know Louis Pierre Junior well, hardly at all, but he’d always been professional. Stoic and serious, but never intimidating. That voice?
Scary.
Louis Pierre.Ohmygod.
They were both Louis Pierre.
Could …?
No.
Maddy gasped and all heads in the room turned. Louis Junior swiveled his chair around, fully facing her.
“It was you,” she said.
“You come in here to accuse my son of stealing from my brother and now you’re talking some other gibberish nonsense?”
“You knew,” she said quietly as it all came back to her. “You sat through every planning meeting. The security, how shift changes worked, who did rounds and when. About the windows not being shatterproof above the first floor. You knew my routine. How I walked the building after lunch every day.”
She stopped, took a breath. Inhaled the woodsy scent of Louis’s probably outrageously expensive cologne that somehow sharpened her senses.
“You did it,” she said. “You set me up.”
Louis stood and straightened the cuffs on his suit jacket as if having someone accuse him of a crime was an everyday occurrence.
Maybe in his world it was, but she wanted answers and he wasn’t leaving until she got them. Even if she had to lie down in front of the door.
She backed up a step, huddling closer to the wall near the door.
“I won’t sit here and listen to this nonsense.” He finished messing with his cuffs and peered at his brother, still seated. “We’re leaving.”
Um, no. You’re not.
Maddy slid an inch closer to the door.
As usual, President Thompson’s face remained neutral, his thoughts and emotions hidden behind a politically hardened mask. “Louis,” he said, “you’re not going anywhere.”
“You don’t tell me what to do. I’m not one of your fucking minions.”
The Secret Service agent to Thompson’s right, apparently offended, shot a dark look at Junior just as Thompson’s mask crumbled, revealing flushing cheeks.
“Myminions? Have you lost your mind? When have I ever treated you that way?”
“How about right now?”
“I’m trying to figure out what the hell is going on!”
The room fell silent. Not even Phin dared to speak.
Finally, Louis shook his head. “This is ridiculous. We’re leaving.”
“No.”
Thompson sounded like her mom when the elders became teenagers and constantly rebelled.
