Page 71 of The Ruling Class

“That,” he replied, “was for trying to distract me from the fact that when I asked you about Georgia, you didn’t answer.”

I was still processing my interaction with the First Lady. I wasn’t used to processing out loud. Bodie reached over and flicked my ear. Clearly, unlike Adam, he didn’t believe in driving with both hands on the wheel.

“Fine,” I said, before he could escalate further. “Yes, I’m thinking about the First Lady. She had a meeting with the headmaster today, supposedly.”

“Supposedly.” Bodie didn’t turn it into a question, but I responded like he had.

“She had me pulled out of class. Just to check on me, see how I was doing.”

“Of course,” Bodie said dryly.

“Of course.” This time, I didn’t make him press for more information. “She was fishing for details about what Ivy’s doing in Arizona.”

Bodie snorted. “I told Ivy we’d have to loop Georgia in sooner, rather than later. What did you say?”

“I told her that Ivy was just doing what the president asked—looking into Pierce’s background.” I paused. “And I asked her if her husband was really moving at an accelerated rate toward nominating Pierce.”

Bodie glanced over at me. “You saw the article in thePost?”

I nodded. “Vivvie came to school today. Her father’s funeral was this morning, and she came to school to find me, to show me the newspaper.”

“And what did Miss Georgia have to say about that article?” Bodie asked, drumming his fingers along the edge of the steering wheel.

“She said the source was probably some intern.”

Bodie snorted. “Doubtful.” He glanced over at me, then fixed his gaze back on the road. “There are two reasons to leak a story like that, kid.” His voice was casual, like he wasn’t imparting wisdom that neither Ivy nor Adam would have shared. “You either do it in hopes that it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy, or you do it to sink the potential nominee’s chances by putting him in the spotlight too soon.”

Help Pierce get nominated, or hurt his chances.

“Did Ivy leak it?” Twenty-four hours ago, I wouldn’t have asked that question.

“This time?” Bodie asked with an arch of one brow. “No.”

This time.He wasn’t saying that Ivy wouldn’t strategically leak a story like that. He was saying that shehadn’t.

“The day we found out about Vivvie’s father, I heard William Keyes say something to Ivy.” I caught my bottom lip in my teeth. Now I really was thinking out loud. “He said that he’d taught her everything she knew.”

Once upon a time, Ivy had worked for Keyes. He’d taught her how to manipulate the system. How tomake things happen.

“He could have leaked the story.” I turned that possibility over in my mind. “The First Lady said Keyes is pushing Judge Pierce for the nomination.” I could have stopped there, but I didn’t. “That photo I gave Ivy—the one that connects Vivvie’s dad and Judge Pierce—was taken at Camp David. According to the First Lady, Keyes was the one who arranged the retreat. That means Keyes brought Vivvie’s dad and Pierce together. And the night before the chief justice died, he attended a fund-raiser for theKeyesFoundation.”

Bodie drove one-handed, the other resting on his threadbare jeans. He cast a lazy glance toward me. “I seem to recall something about you staying out of this.”

“You’re the one who just told me that there are only two reasons to leak an article like that,” I said.

Bodie put his free hand back on the wheel. “I was making conversation.”

“If there’s any chance Adam’s father might be the one who—”

“He’s not.”

The certainty in Bodie’s voice made my stomach twist.If it’s not Keyes …

“The president?” I asked softly.

Bodie gave me an incredulous look. “You think the president might be behind this, so you asked Georgia about that pictureandthe article in thePost?”

I decided that was probably a rhetorical question.