Page 150 of State of the Union (First Family 3)

“Of course, Mr. President.”

He could hear it in her voice, the weary resignation that came with taking a beating from the Senate. “I understand you’re wavering.”

“I knew it’d be rough, but this is just too much. After all the progress my ex-husband and I have made toward repairing our relationship enough to be good co-parents… He doesn’t deserve this.”

“No, he doesn’t, and you should issue a statement saying just that.” He glanced at Terry, who nodded and pulled out a pen to take notes. “Put the truth out there from your point of view. Say something like ‘while I understand the Senate has a job to do in making sure I’m qualified to be your next vice president, I believe my family should be off-limits in this process. Yes, my ex-husband and I went through a very difficult divorce, but that’s long in the past, and we’ve repaired our relationship to the point where we’re able to be excellent co-parents to our beloved children.’ Or something like that. What do you think?”

“Yes, I suppose I could do that, Mr. President.”

“Terry wrote it down. I’ll have him shoot it over to your team, and we’ll issue our own statement in support of you. Please don’t give up, Gretchen. You and I both know you’re more than qualified to fill this role, and it’s the job of the politicians to sling the mud. That goes with the territory for both of us.”

“Yes, but I wasn’t prepared for them to savage him. His recovery is fragile. I worry this’ll result in a setback.”

“If you come out strong in support of him, I have to believe that’ll help. He’s probably more concerned about your opinion of him than anyone else’s. At least that’s how I’d feel if I were him.”

“That’s true. We’ll do the statement. Hopefully, that’ll take some pressure off.”

“Please don’t quit, Gretchen. We’re all so excited to make you the country’s first female vice president.”

“Thank you for your support, Mr. President. I won’t do anything without discussing it with you first.”

“Fair enough. I’ll speak with you soon and will hopefully see you sooner for the swearing in.”

“From your lips to God’s ears, sir.”

Nick put down the phone.

“Good job in talking her off the ledge,” Terry said.

“Sometimes I hate this town.”

“Only sometimes?”

Nick grunted out a laugh. “Most of the time.”

Gonzo and Jeannie approached the garage where Shane Ramsey was employed and showed their badges to the first person they encountered, a short man with brown skin and the name Jesus on his shirt. “Sergeant Gonzales, Detective McBride, MPD. We’re looking for Shane Ramsey.”

“He’s working in the third bay,” the man said in heavily accented English, gesturing to the left side of the garage. “What’s he done?”

Gonzo ignored the question. “Gracias.”

As they approached the third bay, he picked out Ramsey from the other two men he was with because he resembled his father, with the same wispy brown hair and beady eyes. Gonzo would try not to hold that against him. They flashed their badges again.

“Shane Ramsey?”

“Yeah, that’s me. Did something happen to my dad?”

“No, he’s fine. Can we speak to you for a moment outside?”

Shane glanced at his coworkers. “Um, sure.” After wiping greasy hands on a red rag, he followed them outside. “What’s this about?” His breath made vapor clouds in the cold.

“We have some questions we’d like to ask you downtown. If you come with us willingly, we won’t cuff you out of professional courtesy to your father.” The idea of extending any courtesy to Ramsey made Gonzo want to vomit, but he did it anyway to accomplish the goal of this mission.

“What kind of questions?” he asked, his gaze darting between Gonzo and Jeannie.

“The kind we want to ask downtown.” Gonzo stared into the younger man’s eyes, determined not to blink or look away.

Shane blinked. “Does my dad know about this?”