“I’m waiting, Tess.”
I held out a moment longer before saying what he wanted to hear. “I understand.”
Adam removed his hand from my chin, trailing it lightly over the back of my head for a moment before stepping back. At his direction, I made my way out of the conference room. Just as I stepped into the hallway, the door to Ivy’s office opened.
Adam was behind me in an instant, his hands resting lightly on each of my shoulders. If he’d had time, he probably would have steered me back out of the hall, but within a heartbeat, Ivy’s gaze landed on me. To an outside observer, her expression and posture would have seemed perfectly relaxed, but I could feel her struggling to hold on to that composure.
She thought I was upstairs.
Bodie appeared behind Ivy and mouthed four words at me: You had one job.
“Adam already read me the riot act,” I told Ivy. Before she could reply, I turned my attention to the man standing next to her. He was in his late twenties. His blond hair was just long enough to be a little messy. His skin was suntanned. There was something familiar about the set of his features.
“It’s fine,” the man told Ivy. “I don’t bite.” The dark circles under his eyes spoke of sleepless nights, but his voice was wry.
Ivy’s not afraid of you, I thought, studying the way that she stiffened at his words. But she is afraid of something.
“I’m Tess,” I said, since no one seemed inclined to introduce me. After a beat, the man held out a hand.
Adam’s grip tightened slightly on my shoulders.
“Walker,” the man said.
The name triggered something in my brain, and I realized why he looked familiar—and who he resembled.
His mother.
I took his hand. “Walker,” I repeated. “As in Walker Nolan.”
The president’s youngest son.
CHAPTER 6
Ivy refused to say a word about Walker Nolan’s visit. She left shortly after he did and still wasn’t home when I woke up the next morning.
What could the president’s son have said that would send Ivy straight to DEFCON 1?
Before Bodie dropped me off at Hardwicke, he put the obvious into words. “Don’t tell anyone—”
“That the president’s youngest son is in some kind of trouble?” I filled in. “My lips are sealed.”
The night before, I’d stayed up late reading everything I could find online about Walker Nolan. Of the three Nolan sons, Walker was the only one to decline Secret Service protection. He was twenty-nine, stayed more or less out of the limelight, and had spent two years with Doctors Without Borders before his father had taken office. I didn’t need to be a political genius to guess that any scandal involving the president’s son would dominate the news cycle going into midterm elections.
Whatever Walker’s problem was, it had even Bodie on edge. “Not joking, kiddo.” Bodie turned in his seat and fixed me with a stare. “No matter what you see, no matter what you hear—you say nothing.”
Dangerous. The word Adam had used the day before echoed in my mind.
My stomach tightened. “I won’t.”
After two or three seconds, Ivy’s driver gave a slight nod. “Get out of here,” he said, jerking his head toward the school. “And good luck with the campaign.”
“We’ll begin with nominations for class presidents and then proceed to the school-wide offices.” The Hardwicke headmaster was a small man with glasses, a finely tuned sense of his own importance, and a voice that carried. “Are there nominations for freshman class president?”
The nominations began to trickle in, and I leaned back in my seat. Once a month, the entire Hardwicke Upper School was shuffled into the chapel for an all-school meeting. Today’s meeting, as Emilia had indicated, was devoted to the upcoming student council elections.
It was hard to bring myself to care about student council when my gut said that Ivy was on the verge of something big—something awful.
No matter what you see, no matter what you hear—you say nothing.
Bodie’s warning lingered in my head. Each time I went back over the words, they were more chilling. What exactly did Bodie think I might see or hear that would cause me to say something about Walker Nolan’s visit to our house?
Why does the president’s son need Ivy’s services?
Adam worked for the Pentagon. Since I’d moved to DC, he’d only consulted with Ivy on one other case: the assassination of Justice Marquette.
No matter what you see, no matter what you hear—