And he started to wonder if his nightmare would ever end.

CHAPTER 58

ALEX FORD SAT AT HOME worrying. He had been trying to reach Stone but the man wasn’t answering his phone. The story about the grave being dug up at Arlington was not front-page news but it had people talking. Alex didn’t know what had been found in that coffin. He knew, however, that it wasn’t the body of John Carr. He had learned much about Stone’s past when they both had nearly died at a place called Murder Mountain not too far from Washington. And yet Alex felt that there was a part of Oliver Stone/John Carr that neither he nor anyone else would ever know.

He tried to reach Stone by phone one more time, and then his own phone started ringing. He answered. It was the man himself.

“Oliver, what the hell is going on?”

“Not a lot of time to talk, Alex. You heard about the grave?”

“Yes.”

“It was Carter Gray’s doing.”

“But he’s-”

“No, he’s not. He’s alive and trying to set me up for a series of murders related to my past.”

“Oliver, what the-”

“Just listen! I can take care of myself. Reuben and Milton are laying low. So is Caleb. But I need you to do me a favor.”

“What is it?”

“My friend, Susan Hunter. You remember her?”

“Tall, leggy, with a fast mouth.”

“She’s in trouble and I offered to help her, but I can’t now. Will you step in for me?”

“Is she the reason we got called out last night?”

“That was my fault, not hers. But if you do help her you have to promise me something.”

“What?” Alex said warily.

“Her past is not exactly perfect. But she’s a good person with good motives. Don’t dig too deep there.”

“Oliver, if she’s a criminal-”

“Alex, you and I have been through a lot together. I would trust this woman with my life. I hope that means something to you.”

Alex sat back and let out a deep breath. “What do you want me to do?”

“Go to my cottage. On the desk are some notes. They will help you to understand the situation better. I’ll give you Susan’s phone number. You can contact her and tell her that I asked you to help.”

“This is really important to you, isn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t be asking this big of a favor if it weren’t.”

“Okay, Oliver, I’ll do it.”

“I appreciate it, Alex, more than you’ll ever know.”

“Are you sure I can’t help you?”

“No. This is something I have to handle on my own.”

Alex drove to Stone’s cottage. It looked empty, yet he still pulled his gun before unlocking the door, using a key Stone had once given him. It didn’t take long for him to see that no one was there. Following Stone’s instructions, he sat down at the desk and started going over the papers there, all in Stone’s precise handwriting.

There were names: Jerry Bagger, Annabelle Conroy with a circle around it, Paddy Conroy, Tammy Conroy and someone named Anthony Wallace. There were notes about Stone’s recent trip to Maine, along with some lines detailing conversations with Reuben, Milton and Caleb. And apparently Milton and Reuben had been to Atlantic City, to the Pompeii Casino.

Bagger’s place.

Alex stuffed the notes in his pocket, rose and stretched out his lean six-foot-three-inch frame, massaging the muscles in his neck with his hand. He’d broken his neck in an accident years ago while on presidential protection detail and the surgically installed metal there sometimes gave him fits. Next step was to contact this Susan Hunter, if that was really her name, which, after seeing these notes, he was pretty certain wasn’t the case.

The next instant he froze. Someone was coming. He slid over next to the bathroom door and waited.

The intruder came in, went immediately over to the desk and seemed to be very upset that nothing was there.

Alex stepped out and put his gun against the person’s head.

True to her unflappable nature, Annabelle Conroy didn’t scream, but she did say, “I hope to hell you have the safety on.”

He lowered his gun and stepped back. Annabelle was dressed in a short skirt, sandals and a jean jacket; her long blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail and partially covered under a ball cap. She took off her sunglasses and stared up at the tall federal agent.

“You’re Secret Service, right?”

He nodded. “Alex Ford. And I know you, you’re-”

“Unemployed.” She looked around. “He’s not here?”

Alex was staring at the small hook-shaped scar under Annabelle’s right eye. He caught himself and said, “No, he’s not.”

“Any idea where he might be?”

“Not really.”

“Good-bye then.”

As she headed to the door, Alex said sharply, “Annabelle!”

She jerked around.

Alex smiled. “Annabelle Conroy, pleased to meet you. Let me guess, father is Paddy, mother or maybe sister’s name is Tammy?” He pulled out the notes from his pocket. “And it seemed you might have been looking for these.”

She eyed the papers and said, “I thought Oliver was more discreet than that.”

“He is. I figured it out on my own.”

“Good for you. Well, I guess I’ll be leaving.”

“You want me to tell Oliver anything in case I see him?” Alex asked.

“No. I don’t think I have anything to say to him. Not anymore, anyway.”

“But you came to see him?”

“So? Why are you here?” she said.

“Because I’m his friend and I’m worried about him.”

“He can take care of himself.”

“Any idea why he disappeared?” Alex asked, though he knew the answer.

“It’s because they dug up a grave at Arlington Cemetery. His grave, apparently.” She watched Alex closely, presumably to see how he would react to this. “Did I pass your little test?”

He nodded. “Oliver must really trust you if he told you about that.”

“Let’s put it this way: I thought he did trust me, but it turns out he didn’t.”

“I heard Bagger can be pretty ruthless.”

If she was startled by this Annabelle didn’t show it. “What’s a Bagger? You mean like at a grocery store?”

He handed her one of his cards. “Oliver called me and told me to help you while he was otherwise engaged.”

This news did startle her. “He asked you to help me?”

“He insisted on it, in fact.”

“And you do what he tells you to?” she said.

“He said he’d trust you with his life. There aren’t many people he says that about. I happen to be one of them. We tend to look out for each other.”

She hesitated, before slipping the card in her purse. “Thanks.”

Alex watched in silence as she walked back to her car.

CHAPTER 59

CAMP DAVID, though it was often used as a working retreat, was also a place that allowed the president of the United States to get away from the stresses of the most impossible job on earth. The White House Press Office had issued a notice to journalists covering the president that this weekend was only for the president and his family. That was a lie, or at least a subterfuge, as statements issued by the press office sometimes were. The president was receiving a visitor, a very special visitor, and complete secrecy was necessary.

“Thank you, Mr. President, for seeing me so swiftly,” Carter Gray said as he sat down across from the man in his private office at the camp. As much as Gray had come to enjoy his bunker life, there was something to be said for venturing aboveground every once in a while.

“I’m just glad you’re all right,” the president said. “A very narrow escape for you.”

“Well, I can’t say it was the first time, but I hope it is the last. And I appreciate the latitude you’ve given me, on an unofficial basis of course, to pursue this matter.”

“I could sense its urgency when we spoke by phone. But I’d like a fuller understanding.”