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cold. He set the cup down and pushed it away, to the side of the desk. “And you don’t think we can get enough votes to confirm Shelton?”
    “It’s simple politics. Although the majority has only fifty-one votes in the Senate, they’ll stick with Senator Proctor on this one. Those up for reelection this fall don’t want to face their constituents and explain why they voted to move the Supreme Court to the right. I doubt you’d even be able to get Shelton’s nomination out of the Judiciary Committee.”
    President Wallace detected concern in Porter’s tone. That made him worry, too.
    “Even if we get the nomination out of the committee,” President Wallace mused, “we’ll have a hard time on the Senate floor. Proctor will have one of his lieutenants filibuster the nomination.”
    “It will take sixty votes to put an end to the filibuster so that the Senate can even vote on the nomination,” Porter said. “We don’t have that many allies in the Senate.”
    President Wallace stood again and paced some more, thinking through the possibilities. Lefler wasn’t right, he decided. It had to be Shelton. “We’ll have to twist as many arms as we can to get Shelton confirmed.”
    “We can’t twist enough arms to make it work.”
    President Wallace paced some more with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “But we’ve got to make it work. This is why I was elected.”
    Porter followed President Wallace with his eyes as he paced. “This is not the only reason you were elected. There are welfare reform and the economy and hundreds of others.”
    The president talked to the window again. “I know. All of those things are important. But this is the most important. Transforming the Supreme Court is the most important of all.”
    “Is it a political hill worth dying on?”
    President Wallace turned and stared at Porter. “I’m not worried about getting reelected, Porter,” he said in a grandfatherly voice. “If I’m supposed to serve another term, then things will work out. But you’re missing the point. I know I was elected for this purpose, for this decision. I was elected for such a time as this, and we’ve got to fight on every political hill until we win.”
    “It’ll be a bitter fight.”
    “I know. We’ll have to cut as many deals as we can. I’m willing to play as many cards as I have to get the nomination confirmed.”
    “Is it that important?”
    “It’s that important.”
    “Any deal would have to be with Proctor, and my guess is that the stakes would be too high.”
    President Wallace sat down and reclined in his chair. He placed his hands behind his head, locking fingers together, and gazed at the presidential seal in the ceiling. He shifted in his seat. He evaluated the choices again, but only one was a real option. He knew that as soon as he said the word, Porter would work to make it happen. That’s what Porter did best. He took care of things. And so Porter would be tasked with getting Dunbar Shelton confirmed to the Supreme Court, whatever it took. President Wallace couldn’t take a chance on Lefler.
    “You may be right, Porter,” he conceded. “But I suspect the stakes are higher if we don’t get Shelton confirmed.”

Chapter Four
    Brentwood, Tennessee
    “Has she been dead long?” Lieutenant Mike Brantley asked as he ducked under the yellow crime scene tape between two uniformed officers, and into the town house of Metropolitan Nashville’s latest homicide victim. The town house was part of an upscale complex in the southern Nashville suburb of Brentwood. Although the place was alive with police photographers snapping pictures, investigators dusting for fingerprints, and employees from the coroner’s office examining the corpse, the finality of death struck Brantley as he entered the room where the body was found. It was an eerie feeling he’d experienced more often than he desired during his ten-year career with the Metropolitan Nashville Police Department.
    “About