Page 70 of The Ruling Class

“Well,” Georgia said, seeming to realize that she wasn’t going to get anything else out of me. “Thank you for speaking with me, Tess. It has been illuminating. And I do hope you know that when I inquired about your well-being, I meant it. Ivy is not much older than my own sons, and I’ve grown to care about her very much. You matter to her, and that matters to me.”

Even with everything else going on, it hurt to hear that I mattered to Ivy. Turning away from Georgia before she could see the effect her words had on me, I took a few steps toward the far wall. My eyes landed on the picture behind the headmaster’s desk, and in the split second that followed, I knew that I wouldn’t get an opportunity like this again.

“How does your husband know the headmaster?” I asked, gesturing toward the photo like I’d seen it for the first time. I could feel my heart beating in my chest, hear it in my ears.

Georgia glanced at the photo from a distance, not paying it much mind. “Our youngest went to Hardwicke,” she said. “We try to donate something to the auction each year. Last spring, there was some water damage to the school. They were in need of big-ticket items, so we arranged for a weekend retreat at Camp David. The Presidential Retreat,” she clarified. “It’s occasionally open to the public, you know.”

A weekend at Camp David.

“Was the president’s attendance part of the prize?” I asked.

“Heavens, no,” Georgia said. “But William won the auction and invited Peter along. My husband, I’m afraid, has never been able to back down from one of Will’s challenges.”

I forced myself to pretend like there was nothing to read into those words. Like there was no reason, in particular, that I had asked.

But as Georgia and I parted ways and I left the administrative building, I couldn’t stop thinking that if William Keyes had won the auction, if he’d been the one to issue the invitations, then he was the one who’d brought the men in that picture together.

Including Judge Pierce and Vivvie’s father.

CHAPTER 43

“You’re quiet.” Bodie issued that statement with no small amount of suspicion.

“I’m always quiet.”

As Bodie pulled the car past the gates and out onto the street, he glanced at me just long enough to smirk. “And I’m always perceptive. This quiet is a different quiet.”

My mind was awash in the day’s events.Georgia’s visit. Vivvie and the article on Pierce. The two names from Henry’s list. Adam’s father being the one who had arranged the get-together in that photograph.

“I’m fluent in all varieties of Kendrick silences,” Bodie declared. “And you and your sister both stare very intently atabsolutely nothingwhen the wheels are turning in here.” He lazily reached over and tapped the side of my head. I swatted his hand away.

“I have a lot to think about.”

“And would some of thatlotconcern a certain First Lady with sweet, Southern manners and the mind of Machiavelli?”

I snorted at that description of Georgia.

“How did you guess?” I asked Bodie.

“I didn’t.” He merged onto the highway. “I caught a glimpse of Mark pulling away as I pulled in.”

“Mark?” My brow wrinkled in confusion.

“Mark Maddox,” Bodie said. “He’s one of the agents on Georgia’s detail.”

“You’re on a first-name basis with the Secret Service?”

“I make it a point to learn names. Half of the time, the Secret Service wants to be noticed. Their presence is a deterrent.”

“And the other half of the time?” I asked.

“They fade into the background. They try not to engage, not to interfere. If you’re not careful, you forget they’re there.”

“Unless you know their names,” I said.

“Unless you know their names.” Bodie reached over and tapped the side of my head again.

“What was that for?” I asked disgruntledly.