CHAPTER 11
ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA
“I really appreciate your seeing me so late,” Elise Campbell said as she stepped inside the small Pitt Street town house. “We’ve been on the road a couple of days and I had some paperwork to catch up on after my shift ended tonight.”
“Don’t worry about it,” replied Carolyn Leonard as she took Campbell’s coat and hung it on a peg near the door. “I remember the hours. How about some coffee?”
“Do you have anything stronger?”
“I do,” said Leonard with a smile. “Come on in.”
Carolyn Leonard was a fit and attractive woman, ten years older than Elise Campbell. She had red hair and a quiet, yet powerful presence. Leonard was one of those people you might not notice the moment you walked into a room, but once you did, you couldn’t help but be impressed by the confidence she exuded. It was a trait that, in her personal life, seemed to intimidate most of the men she met. The only ones able to get beyond who she was and what she had done for a living were other law enforcement officers. The fact that she had been the head U.S. Secret Service agent for the previous president of the United States simply freaked a lot of guys out.
“We’re not going to wake the children up, are we?” asked Campbell as she took a seat on a stool in the kitchen.
“They’re not here,” said Leonard of her twins. “They’re visiting my mother.”
Campbell knew well enough not to inquire after Leonard’s ex. He’d left her with two young kids and a mountain of credit card debt at the high point of her career. She was the first woman to ever head a presidential protection detail and the insecure excuse for a man she’d married had not only left her, he’d slashed and burned everything in his path on his way out of the relationship.
As devastating as the experience had been, Leonard had continued, right until the day after the inauguration. She was one of the high profile refuseniks who declined to remain with the Secret Service in the new administration and who had elected to leave, rather than comply with what they felt were dangerous choices being made by the new president. The defections created a lot of bad feelings in an organization that already had significant morale problems.
While many exceptional Secret Service agents still wholeheartedly believed in the mission, there were those who were dead tired of the dearth of leadership and the crushing layers of exceedingly poor management. The newly elected president’s desire to turn his protective detail into a 1980s style Benetton ad, rather than promote, hire, and train on ability, was the tipping point for agents like Leonard.
Despite the bad feelings swirling throughout the Service, agents who knew Carolyn Leonard still respected her. Those who remained behind were indeed sorry to see her go, but few of them held her decision against her, especially not Elise Campbell.
Leonard knew better than anyone how hard it was to be a woman in the Service. She had taken Campbell under her wing early on and had been her mentor as best she could. Being head of the president’s detail and a single mother of two little ones never seemed to leave enough time. Leonard had always felt that she hadn’t done enough for Campbell.
Campbell, on the other hand, had soaked up every piece of advice and had hung on every word of Carolyn’s as if she had been sitting at the feet of a master, which in a way, she had. Leonard was a legend in the Service and Campbell felt honored by their time together, no matter how limited it was.
“Is Chardonnay okay?” asked Carolyn as she pulled a bottle of Toasted Head from the refrigerator.
“That’s great,” replied Campbell.
Carolyn set the bottle down along with two glasses and fished her wine key out of her junk drawer. When the bottle was open, she poured a glass for each of them and then sat down on one of the stools. “Cheers.”
Campbell raised her glass and they toasted. Carolyn studied the younger agent’s face. She hadn’t changed much in the years since she had left the Virginia Beach Police Department to join the Secret Service. She still looked young and was still very pretty.
While times had changed since Carolyn had joined the Service, she knew it hadn’t changed that much and that it was still difficult for women, especially attractive ones like Elise. The long hours, the days and weeks away from family, the lonely hotel rooms-it all came together to create some less than professional situations if people weren’t vigilant.
Carolyn took a sip of wine and then set the glass down. Raising her eyebrows, she asked, “So what did you need to talk about?”
Elise took a drink before responding. “The president.”
Call it intuition, but Carolyn instantly had a bad feeling about where this might be going. Fairly or unfairly, President Robert Alden had a reputation as being a bit of a womanizer-this, despite the fact that his wife, Terry, was a very good-looking woman. Many said the rumors about Alden were untrue and were due only to his good looks and the fact that so many women found him so desirable. In Carolyn’s experience, though, where there was smoke, there was usually fire, and the idea of the president coming on to one of the agents sworn to protect him, though incredibly unprofessional, was not beyond the realm of possibility.
“What about him?” replied Leonard.
Campbell took another sip from her glass and stared past her mentor to the calendar on the woman’s refrigerator. “When you were on presidential detail, did you ever hear anything you weren’t supposed to hear?”
Carolyn studied her young protégée. “All the time. But it’s your job to ignore it and forget it.”
“What if I can’t?”
“Then you need to find another job.”
“C’mon, Carolyn,” stated Campbell as she turned her eyes to her. “You know some things aren’t that easy.”
“Nothing about the Secret Service is easy,” replied Leonard, “especially protecting the president. If you want easy, become a politician. Other than that, either you can do your job as an agent or you can’t. There’s no gray.” Pausing, Carolyn then added, “Did the president say or do something to you that made you uncomfortable?”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Did he say something to someone else about you or what he wanted to do to you?”
“Carolyn, my God. No. Is that why you think I’m here? You think I’m upset because the president came on to me?”
“He wouldn’t be the first.”
“Well, nothing happened,” Campbell replied flatly.
“So then, what are we talking about?”
Campbell eyed the bottle of wine and before she could ask, Leonard topped off her glass.
Elise held the stem near the base and slowly moved it in a circle. “What do you know about Nikki Hale?”
“Alden’s campaign staffer? The one who died?”
Campbell nodded and took another sip of wine.
“Not much more than what I heard from the agents working Alden’s detail during the campaign. She was young, twenty-five or twenty-six I believe. She was also very pretty. If I remember correctly, she had something to do with the campaign website; director of new media or something like that.
“A lot of people on the campaign didn’t like her. They thought she was a little too young and a little too inexperienced for such an important position. She rode the campaign bus and was on the plane everywhere Alden went. Everyone wanted to have that kind of access and I guess a lot of folks were jealous of her.”
“Do you remember how she died?”
Carolyn thought about it for a minute. “It was the end of last summer, just before the general elections, I think. Head-on collision in the Hamptons, right?”
Campbell nodded. “Fourth of July weekend. Alden had been out there for a big fund-raiser.”
“From what I heard, Nikki Hale was quite the partier, and that night was no exception. Her blood alcohol level was double the legal limit. She crossed into oncoming traffic and killed herself along with a family of four in the opposite lane.”