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the Secret Service detail closed around her. Cinnegar asked Claire if she was able to climb one flight of stairs. When she said she could, they walked up to the next floor. As soon as Cinnegar checked the hall the agent led them past the door to the suite across from the stairwell and around the corner to the suite the hotel had reserved for the first lady. Cinnegar had obtained a master key for the hotel the day before the fund-raiser and he opened the door. Two agents went into Claire’s suite to check it. Two more agents were about to check the adjoining suite when the door opened and Chuck Hawkins stepped out.
    “Where’s the first lady?” Hawkins asked.
    “Around the corner.”
    Hawkins walked around the corner and found Claire and Dale Perry waiting for the agents to finish examining the suite.
    “Claire, I have to go. Is that okay?”
    “Go. I’ll be fine.”
    “You’re certain?”
    “Go,” Claire said just as the agents gave the okay for her to go inside.
    Hawkins disappeared moments before the team that had swept the adjoining suite gave their okay.
    The front door to Claire’s suite opened on a sitting room outfitted with a couch, an armoire that held a television, several armchairs, and a writing desk. Claire ignored this room and walked into the bedroom, which contained a king-size bed. She took off her shoes and jacket and sat down heavily on the bed.
    “Dale, can you clear everyone out and make sure all of the lights are out. I want to crash. Tell Ray I’ll let him know when I’m ready to go back to the White House.”
    “You got it. And congratulations on the baby.”
    Claire smiled. “Thanks, Dale. Now get everyone out so I can sleep.”
    “Sure thing,” Dale said before walking into the sitting room where Cinnegar and a female agent were waiting.
    “Mrs. F wants everyone out so she can nap,” Claire heard Dale say as she stripped off her clothes. The front door closed a moment after she turned off the lights in the bedroom and closed the shades.

Chapter Six
    As soon as Charlotte Walsh was in the backseat of the Ford she pressed against the door, wrapped her arms around her body, and started to cry. Her chest felt tight but she was hollow inside. He had never loved her. He’d just used her to spy for him then he’d used her like a whore. How could she have ever believed anything he’d said? In her dreams, he’d left his wife for her, but they were only pipe dreams, a ridiculous fantasy. She was ridiculous. She could see that now.
    “Are you okay?” the driver asked.
    She hadn’t realized she was crying loud enough for him to hear.
    “I’m all right,” she managed to choke out as she ran a forearm across her eyes.
    “Do you need some water? I’ve got a bottle up here.”
    “No, that’s okay.”
    Charlotte took a few deep breaths and tried to calm down. She’d never seen it coming. She’d been so proud of herself for getting the records of Gaylord’s secret slush fund that she’d preened like a peacock when the president praised her. She’d suspected nothing when they’d made love; although, in retrospect, calling what they’d done lovemaking was a joke.
    Charlotte had been stunned when Farrington told her that this was the last time they could be together because his wife was pregnant. He’d assured her that he loved her but asked her to understand that he couldn’t leave Claire, now that she was carrying his child. What rot! She felt like a fool. No, she was a fool, a child. How could she have possibly believed that someone that powerful would throw everything away for a schoolgirl? She was an idiot, a self-deluded idiot.
    Charlotte thought back to Chicago. Chuck Hawkins had told her that the president had been impressed with her when they’d met in the D.C. campaign headquarters and he wanted her to fly to Chicago to talk about a special project. Only a fool would have bought that line—the president had spoken to her for less than a minute—but she’d believed