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Tracie Peterson Page 7


  “This is my wife, Debra, and daughter Danielle,” Kerns said, stopping in front of a pencil-thin blonde and a feminine version of himself.

  Cara smiled at the women and felt a cold reception from Debra Kerns. “I’m pleased to meet you,” Debra said, but there was no truth in the statement.

  Danielle Kerns was also hesitant in her greeting, but obviously well-trained in public appearance. “I’ve heard great things about you, Mrs. Kessler,” Danielle said, extending a hand. The two women shook hands and exchanged smiles, but Cara knew she was an unwelcome presence. But why?

  Bob continued to move Cara through the room filled with well-wishers and a variety of “KERNS AND KESSLER” paraphernalia. Banners overhead in red, white, and blue declared the team in broad bold lettering. Across the podium where their announcement would be made, Cara found a huge rosette with “KERNS AND KESSLER” in gold lettering across the center. The sheer weight of her decision was beginning to settle upon her shoulders.

  “And this is . . .” came the introduction to yet another of Robert Kerns’ associates. Cara smiled politely and shook hand after hand. Both her face and hand ached from the abuse by the time Kerns led her to the podium. Would this night never end?

  Searching the room, Cara felt a small amount of relief when she spotted Melissa Jordon. Although, her friend’s expression told Cara that there would be plenty to discuss when the evening was over.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to introduce to you a remarkable young woman who has taken the state by storm. She heads up HEARTBEAT Ministries, a business devoted to the promotion of our young people. She has given ten years of her life working to motivate our cities and towns into action on behalf of our youth. She has been awarded numerous community action awards from around the state and last year was voted Topeka’s Woman of the Year. She is a widow and single mother who has broken the stereotypes to prove herself over and over again. I give you now my running mate and the next lieutenant governor of Kansas, Cara Kessler!”

  Cameras clicked and flashed as the photo opportunity of Kerns and Kessler side-by-side became destined for front-page news in tomorrow’s papers.

  ****

  Cara remembered very little of her speech. It had been written for her by Russell and rehearsed by Kerns himself. She knew it was short and simple and kept the focus of the race on Kerns, but other than that she recalled few details. Suddenly, this was no game, and she was now stuck in a situation that seemed hopeless and frightening. She had relinquished the podium to Kerns amidst the applause of an enthusiastic crowd and forced herself to stand at his side until the conclusion.

  With the speeches wrapped up, Kerns encouraged the crowd to mingle and enjoy the refreshments offered by the hotel caterers. Cara took that opportunity to slip away to the rest room before allowing the press to ask a single question. She had to find some peace and quiet, even if it was for only a few minutes. Purposefully finding a rest room as far removed from the ballroom as possible, Cara made her way inside and wished she could lock the door behind her.

  She took deep breaths and felt a small amount of peace. If it was this hard just getting through the announcement, how would she ever be able to endure a grueling campaign trail?

  “Cara?” Melissa called out as she entered the lounge.

  Cara had just taken a seat on the floral print sofa. “I’m afraid so,” she answered.

  Melissa, dressed in a cream-colored suit that showed off her auburn hair, stood with hands on hips. “Well?”

  Cara motioned to the sofa. “Have a seat and we’ll talk, off the record.”

  Melissa smiled. “It’s been a pretty trying evening, eh?”

  “The worst in my life.” Cara shook her head, remembering Jack. “Second worst.”

  Melissa seemed to understand. “You have to tell me how this all came about. I couldn’t believe my ears when they announced you as Bob Kerns’ running mate.”

  “Tell me about it,” Cara said in a dejected manner. She pushed her hair back and tried to relax.

  “No, that’s your job. What’s going on here?”

  Cara cast a wary glance first toward the inner rest room door and then to the outer one. “Melissa, I was hoping we’d have some time to talk, but it has to be off the record. I mean, way, way off the record. Friend to friend.”

  “You’ve got it,” she answered before dropping down beside Cara.

  Cara envied the energy Melissa seemed to emit. “I don’t know how you can stay so fresh and chipper through these things,” Cara said, suddenly uneasy about confessing the truth for the first time.

  “Because I’m not in the spotlight. Which brings us back to you.”

  Again Cara looked nervously at the doors. “Kerns forced me to join his campaign.”

  Melissa’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

  Cara drew a deep breath. “He threatened HEARTBEAT with lawsuits and inevitable collapse. He told me he’d see the whole thing tied up in court until kingdom come.”

  “I still don’t think I understand. Why would Kerns put that kind of pressure on you? Are you two longtime enemies?”

  “I’d never even heard of Robert Kerns until he announced his candidacy. He, on the other hand, was more than a little familiar with me, both my private life and my ministry work. He knew from his own research that I had wide public appeal across the state and”—she paused to looked quite seriously at Melissa—“he knew things about Brianna and me that he should never have known.”

  “Such as?”

  “He knew we were financially secure due to the insurance and settlements I received after Jack’s death.”

  “Some of that would have been public knowledge,” Melissa offered.

  “Maybe, but a person’s medical condition isn’t public knowledge.”

  “What do you mean, Cara?”

  “Please keep this to yourself, but Bob knew something about the wife of my partner, Joe Milken. He had information about a private health condition that he used in the process of coercing me into running with him. Melissa, I don’t understand how anyone gets that kind of information legally.”

  “Who said he obtained it legally?” Melissa replied, kicking her heels off and stretching her feet.

  “Missy, I’m scared. Really scared. This man is a monster. What if he doesn’t stop at forcing me in this campaign? What if he decides he wants me to do something else? I’m trapped.” Tears came to Cara’s eyes as the full implication of her situation suddenly became clear. Kerns could just go on threatening her forever, and there’d be nothing Cara could do to stop him.

  Melissa took hold of Cara’s hand. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

  “What if he threatens Bri? I just don’t know what to do.” Cara’s voice took on an edge of hysteria. “I don’t belong here. I’m not like Bob Kerns and his friends. After what happened to Dad during his political career, I have nothing good to say about politics. And what happens if, God forbid, he should win the election and I’m stuck in the center ring of this circus?”

  “I don’t know, Cara. But I’ll do whatever I can to help you. There must be some way out of this. We just have to think.”

  Cara dabbed at her eyes. “Do you really think there’s a way out?”

  “There was a way in,” Melissa said softly. “There has to be a way out.”

  Cara nodded. “Help me find it then. Before it’s too late.”

  “Look,” Melissa began, “you have to go out there and at least pretend to be elated at Kerns’ choice. We’ll fix you up and mingle you around, and no one will know there’s a problem. Peter and I will be out of town most of the week, but we’ll be back on Saturday. I want you and Brianna to come to dinner, and together with Peter we’ll figure something out.”

  “I can’t talk about this in front of Bri. She just thinks it’s a part of our new lifestyle changes. Her mind is full of how she’ll decorate her room after we move and what kind of new furniture we’ll buy. She actually thinks the idea of her mot
her being lieutenant governor is, as she put it, ‘awesome.’ ”

  “It’ll be okay, you’ll see. I’ve got a great computer set up with games, and Brianna will find herself so preoccupied that she’ll never miss us. We’ll set her up and then slip away to another part of the house.”

  “Okay,” Cara said, squaring her shoulders. “We’ll come to dinner Saturday.”

  “Seven sharp, okay?” Melissa said, slipping her shoes back on. “Then come along. We’ll powder your nose and touch up your lipstick.”

  “And I’ll play his game a little longer,” Cara murmured, hating that she’d lost control of her life.

  Twelve

  Bob Kerns took a seat behind the desk in his den and began scanning the morning newspapers. The announcement of bringing Cara Kessler on board had gone better than he’d imagined. The papers and television reports were packed with high praise for the woman and for his insightfulness in choosing her.

  Picking up the Kansas City Star, he read that Cara was an inspiration to other single mothers. The Wichita paper brought to light her childhood involvement in her father’s campaigns, long background in administrating youth programs, and one-on-one approach to people. The Capital-Journal was surprisingly detached in its coverage of the event. The facts were there, but the story lacked a certain amount of enthusiasm that the other papers contained.

  “Melissa Jordon,” Kerns read the by-line. He remembered the redhead easily and had already been on the receiving end of her rapid-fire no-nonsense interrogations. Funny, but he’d expected something a bit stronger from Jordon. After all, she’d hung on Cara’s skirts all night. Every time Kerns had looked up to see how Cara was handling herself, Melissa Jordon was there beside her.

  Picking up the phone he dialed his right-hand man. “Russ?” he questioned at the sound of the groggy voice on the other end. “Look, I know it’s early and all, but I need some information ASAP.”

  “What is it?”

  Bob toyed with the paper. “I want to know the background on Melissa Jordon. She’s the redheaded reporter for The Capital-Journal.”

  “The one that seemed to adopt Cara as her own pet project?”

  “The very same. I need to know if there’s something more between them. See what you can find out and have it in my office by noon.”

  “Okay,” Russell answered, still sounding only half awake. “I’ll do what I can.”

  Kerns hung up the phone just as his daughter entered the room. At nineteen, she was a striking young woman—not really beautiful, but definitely noticeable. Kerns liked the fact that she favored him in looks—tall and slender with well-defined features. The only thing she’d inherited from her mother were huge green eyes that seemed to absorb everything around her.

  “Dad . . . are you . . . busy?” the girl asked hesitantly.

  “Well on my way to it,” Kerns replied. “What’s up?”

  Danielle tightened the belt on her robe. “I know you don’t want to hear about this, but I can’t stop worrying about Teri. Isn’t there anything I can do to find her?”

  Kerns’ expression remained fixed, but his mind was racing at a rapid pace. Teri Davis was a longtime friend of his daughter, and for over six months now Danielle had been grief-stricken because of her disappearance. “Don’t you think it’s time to just let it go, Danielle?”

  “But she could have been kidnapped or killed! Don’t you care? She has no one in this world except her foster parents, and all they keep saying is, ‘Teri’s run away before.’ But, Dad, Teri’s almost nineteen and she was really excited about college. I can’t see her running away unless something terrible happened.”

  “Look, Danielle, the girl obviously has her own agenda. You don’t fit in it, so stop with the whining.” He knew he was being heartless, but he had things of greater importance on his mind. “Everybody grows up and goes their own way. Teri’s actions aren’t all that surprising. She’s never had any real reason to stick around Topeka, and she certainly doesn’t owe you an explanation for her choices in life.”

  “But we were best friends,” Danielle said, the hurt evident in her eyes and voice.

  “Friends come and go. Obviously the friendship meant more to you than to her, so go make some new friends.”

  “That’s a cruel thing to say,” Debra Kerns snapped, coming into the room. “Friendships should be important. Dani and Teri were together for over twelve years.”

  “Everything runs its course in time,” Kerns replied dryly. It certainly had with his marriage, so why not with mere friendship?

  “What would you know about long-term relationships, anyway?” Debra quipped and reached out to embrace Danielle. “I know you miss her. Sometimes it’s hard to deal with what life throws at you,” she said, registering a glaring look on her husband.

  “Yes, life sometimes gives you more than you can take, so you compensate for it the best way you can,” Kerns said snidely. “Some people take up hobbies. Your mother is a good example of that.”

  Debra’s face contorted in rage. “You’re hardly around enough to know what I spend my time doing.”

  “The monthly bill for Scotch is enough to give me a good idea.”

  “Stop it, both of you!” Danielle exclaimed, pushing away from her mother. “I can’t believe you have to turn everything into a fight. If you hate each other so much, why don’t you get a divorce and just be done with it?”

  “There’s a novel idea, Bob. Why don’t we get a divorce?” Debra questioned sarcastically.

  Kerns got up from his chair, barely holding his temper in check. There was a deadly silence in the room as he moved to within arm’s length of Debra.

  “I would love nothing better, but a divorce wouldn’t look good right now,” he began in a very tight-lipped manner. “Any visible family tension would only cause me problems with the election, and that’s why you are both going to hold your tongues and keep your thoughts to yourself. Do you understand me?”

  Danielle nodded, but Debra defiantly refused to acknowledge his command. She stared at him silently, the hate quite evident in her green eyes. “Would visible family tension include very visible extramarital affairs?”

  Kerns clenched his jaw. He could feel himself close to losing control and knew it was exactly what Debra wanted. Her only way to have even a small amount of influence over him was to anger him to the point of rage. Even now, she was smiling ever so slightly, waiting for him to explode.

  Regaining his calm, he said, “I want you both to listen carefully to what I’m about to say. This election is only months away. Your job is to appear as the devoted family. It’s that simple. If you fail at your job,” he said, looking directly at Debra, “the repercussions will be severe. Don’t test me on this and please don’t imagine you can beat me at my own game.”

  “Come on, Mom.” Danielle’s voice hinged on desperation. “Let’s go have breakfast.”

  “Yes, go pour your mother some breakfast,” Kerns said, crossing his arms.

  Debra said nothing, but her eyes were ablaze with accusation and hostility. Kerns was without remorse. For most of the time, she could drink herself into oblivion for all he cared. Just so long as she appeared the sober doting wife in public.

  Danielle finally managed to lead her mother from the room, and Kerns quickly locked the door behind them. Picking up the first thing he could reach, Kerns hurled it across the room. The sound of shattering pottery echoed in the room and then died away to silence.

  How dare they cause him this kind of trouble! They were an ungrateful duo, and Kerns was thankful his son, Gary, had already flown the nest, or it might have been a trio. Recklessly throwing papers into his briefcase, Kerns decided he’d find more peace at campaign headquarters. Let Debra stew in her own juices for a while. She’d settle her nerves with a drink or two, and after that, Kerns knew she’d no longer care whether he was a faithful husband or not.

  Thirteen

  “Melissa Jordon to see the governor.”

  T
he receptionist nodded. “He’s expecting you. Go right in.”

  Melissa made her way to the inner office, wondering why Glencoe wanted to see her. She and Peter had flown in from New York only three hours earlier, and she’d barely made it through the door when the telephone rang and the governor’s office summoned her.

  “Governor Glencoe,” she greeted from the doorway.

  “Come in and close the door,” the man replied from behind a thick legislative report.

  The May afternoon had brought heat and humidity to the Capitol and the room was more than moderately stuffy. With the air-conditioning system on the blink, Glencoe worked rather casually without his jacket and tie.

  “I’m glad you could come,” he said, pushing aside the blue binder.

  “I must say I was surprised to get your call. Is this official business?”

  Glencoe shook his head. “Totally off the record.”

  “I see.” Melissa took a seat, already feeling uncomfortable in the linen suit she’d worn. She could only hope the meeting would be a short one.

  “I appreciate the way you’ve kept my condition to yourself,” began Glencoe. “I know that as a reporter it couldn’t have been easy to sit on a story of this proportion, but I’m glad you did. The doctor just gave me news this morning and I wanted to pass it on to you. The prognosis looks good—my cancer is under control!”

  Melissa caught his enthusiasm. “That’s great!”

  “It’s more than great. It means that we made the right decision in keeping silent. Now the election can go forward unhindered. There won’t have to be any of those constant reminders of the cancer, and I won’t appear compromised in anyone’s eyes.”

  “So you’ve beat the cancer?” Melissa questioned, hoping he would affirm.

  “Not exactly, but as I said, it looks good.”