What Would Satan Do_ - Anthony Miller [21]
She put her hand on her hip, tilted her head, and just generally imbued her whole body with you-ain’t-all-that attitude. “We can’t,” she said. “But have you got any better leads?”
Robertson eyed the young woman skeptically, careful not to stare or linger too long or do anything that might be interpreted the wrong way. Which is to say that Robertson’s gaze slid down the length of her body and then settled on a random point in space, precisely one foot to the left of Ms. Danvers, and definitely not anywhere near her perky breasts.
“Well,” he said to the air, “let’s get a team together and go get this guy.”
Chapter 8. Asthmatic Dugong
Governor Dick Whitford grunted as he finished his breakfast. He took a moment to extract a bit of something tasty from his teeth, let out an ear-splitting belch, and dabbed at his mouth with an embroidered linen napkin before subsiding back into his enormous leather chair. Then he reached out a pale and pudgy hand to press a button on his phone.
“Withers,” he croaked.
A moment later a woman worthy of the name “Withers” bustled in and began clearing Whitford’s breakfast mess off of his desk. She was powerfully-built and efficient – all business – but then there were a couple of stray wisps of graying hair that dangled from an otherwise severe bun.
Whitford waited for her to finish with a vaguely impatient, almost sarcastic look on his face.
“Send them in,” he said.
“Yes, sir.”
“And check the thermostat,” he said, “it feels warm in here.”
“It’s not warm, sir,” she said. “It’s 64 degrees.” Ms. Withers was one of the few people who could contradict Dick Whitford without fear of being declared an enemy of the state and shipped off to a Caribbean summer camp for insurgents. “And 50 degrees outside.”
“It’s warm, goddamnit. Fix it.”
Ms. Withers made a show of pulling up the collar of her sweater as she bustled out.
There were a lot of people who thought that the former Vice President of the United States was Satan, and that, after two terms, a couple of minor Constitutional “transgressions,” and a handful of cardiac episodes, Dick Whitford would make his way back to one of the inner circles of Hell. But he hadn’t. Instead, he’d gone home to Texas, which, in some ways isn’t all that different.
Texas has many things going for it, but unless you’re the kind of person who enjoys vacationing on the surface of the sun or inside a blast furnace, summer is not one of them. Native Texans often refer to the warm season, which generally runs from February to November, in loving, dulcet tones and using phrases such as “Oh holy fuck, will it never end?!”
Whitford hated the heat. But he hated Liberals and Communists even more, so he had no choice but to live in Texas. And so he did whatever it took to shield himself against the infernal Lone Star climate, such as having two entire backup cooling systems installed in any building where he was likely to spend much time. After all, why would any God-fearing Texan settle for just one monster-truck-sized air conditioning unit when he could install two, or even three, thereby flipping the Lone Finger at the idea of “centralized” climate control? Well, he wouldn’t. Because that would be un-American, you dirty Communist. Which is why Whitford had multiple air-conditioning units lined up in nice, environmentally friendly rows outside each of his houses.
The governor didn’t spend much time at any of his houses though. He preferred to spend his days – and his nights – lurking within the dark, frigid confines of his office, which he kept at a hypothermia-inducing fifty-nine degrees. Which is why members of his staff usually scoffed at the idea of their boss being the Prince of Darkness. They had all decided that the idea that Satan would come to Earth and sequester himself in a freezer just seemed preposterous. Which of course, only shows that they had actually given the question serious consideration.
The icy temperatures had, in fact, led those who worked under Whitford (or near rather – any unfortunate soul who worked under Whitford would not do