Page 30 of The Presidents Shadow

MADDY IS THE determined intern. R.J. is her by-the-book boss. This is not a match made in heaven.

She thinks that when she tells R.J. about her dealings with Belinda, Joanna, and McCarthy, he’ll be excited that she’s onto something big. But just the opposite happens.

“I send you to do a simple five-minute jail cell interview, and you launch a full-scale, totally unapproved, completely useless investigation. You’re working here three days, and you’ve violated just about every rule in the book,” R.J. says loudly and fiercely.

Maddy doesn’t give an inch.

“I’m telling you that there’s a major drug operation in the city using young girls as a delivery system, and that someone has discovered those girls make easy prey, and you start preaching about the rule book?” Maddy yells, equally angry.

R.J. is trying to keep himself under control. After all, Maddy saved his butt at Belinda’s hearing when he showed up disheveled and unprepared. But he can’t be controlled by that one event. So he tries to find some kind of middle ground.

“Look,” he says. “You’ve got a lot of potential, Maddy, but you also have a lot to learn.”

The cold, stern look on Maddy’s face makes it clear to R.J. that’s she’s not buying this new, calm approach. And she’s not going to let go. She speaks.

“Columbus, Ohio; Orlando, Florida; Scranton, Pennsylvania. That’s how huge this setup is. It’s countrywide! These girls are being used as smugglers and dealers, and who knows where that leads. For at least a few of them, I know it’s led to being murdered.”

“You heard all this from Belinda?” R.J. asks. And he seems interested for the moment.

“No. I heard it from the twelve-year-old girl I brought home last night. The girl I fed. I gave her a bed. I—”

R.J. jumps in. He seems to be both shocked and angry.

“You what? You brought a drug dealer into your house?”

“Oh, my God!” Maddy screams. “She’s a child who’s being taken advantage of!”

“Maddy,” he asks, “what the hell is wrong with you?”

She looks at him and asks quietly, “No, R.J. What the hell is wrong with you?”