Murder Inside the Beltway - Margaret Truman [80]
“I can’t imagine how.”
Colgate came forward again and fixed him in a hard stare, causing Rollins to wince and turn away.
“We’ve been close for a long time, Jerry,” Colgate said, “a very long time. I trust you like the brother I never had. I’d do anything for you.”
“I know that, Bob.”
“Feel up to laying some of your solid advice on me about the economic package I’m working on?”
“Frankly, no. You’ve got some top economists advising you on that subject.”
“All guesswork on their part. If they knew what they were talking about, they’d be rich, like stock gurus. Pyle released his economic plans on Friday. More of the same, promises of oversight, keep the tax cuts for the wealthy, let the free market reign. Know what, Jerry? The answer is to pull back on deregulation. Look at the airlines since Reagan deregulated them. It’s a mess. A country like this needs a viable commercial aviation system, the way it needs a national standard on clean air and water, education, regulation of the high-rollers on Wall Street. The way I see it…”
Rollins listened patiently as Colgate bounced his speech off him. It was a role he’d happily played before, offering reactions to his friend’s words, correcting, suggesting changes, pointing out strong points, and urging certain sections, phrases, and lines be cut. This day, however, he wasn’t pleased at being put in that position. It occurred to him that Colgate seemed to have forgotten, or pushed
aside, Samantha’s abduction.
“I have to go, Bob,” Rollins said when Colgate took a break.
“Yeah, sure.” As though reading Rollins’s thoughts, he quickly added, “Deborah and I are with you one hundred percent, buddy. I’ll move heaven and earth to help get that precious little girl of yours safely back where she belongs. If you need ransom money, just ask. Count on it.”
Colgate walked Rollins to the door and asked if he was going back home.
“I’m going to the office.”
Colgate’s expression mirrored his surprise.
“The lead detective—his name is Kloss—he’s told me to make myself more available in case the kidnappers want to make contact away from the home. They’ve put a trace on my office phones and are recording all calls there.”
“I hope they know what they’re doing.”
“I have to trust them. The FBI’s in on the case, too. A couple of agents are at the house.”
The former governor of Maryland and likely next president of the United States watched his friend get into a police cruiser and be driven away, the officer at the wheel navigating the knot of reporters and their vehicles. Colgate felt fulfilled that his friend had sought him out, and that he could offer comfort and succor, real and imagined. Of course, he couldn’t know what thought ran through Rollins’s head as the police car headed for his office. It was something President Harry Truman had famously said: “If you want a friend in Washington, get a dog!”
As Colgate closed the front door, his wife came up behind.
“How’s he holding up?” she asked.
“Pretty damn good. I think you should prepare a statement about how our friends are in our prayers—you know, how you can relate to a mother whose only child has been callously ripped from her family. Pyle keeps releasing those commercials accusing me of being soft on crime. You can say in your statement that we need to stiffen our laws about crimes against innocent children. Take the lead, get out in front of it. Better coming from you.”
They went their separate ways within the house, he to the library where he continued to work on his speech on the economy, she to their bedroom, where she picked up the phone and called Connie.
“I can’t believe what’s happened to Jerry and Sue,” Connie said.
“Jerry just left here,” Deborah said. “He’s doing okay. Free for lunch?”
“No, but I’ll make myself free if you need me.”
“Yes, Connie, I need you. Come here. Bob will be away most of the day.”
• • •
Rollins was dropped off in front of his office building. The cruiser drove off, as instructed, but Rollins knew that it wouldn’t be far away, and that officers would be upstairs