The Blackfire Protocol by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 55

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The officer drove Frank back to his house, and sitting alone, he reflected on the years since college. She was, indeed, a unique woman—beautiful, driven, educated, and intelligent. Betsy always seemed to know what she wanted out of life and knew how to get it. It then occurred to him that her family was unaware of her demise, and he was the only person who might be able to reach them. This was not going to be easy. He called The Post and, explaining the situation, asked if they still had her contact information. It was not that long ago that she had resigned and began working for him, so he was confident that the post’s personnel department still possessed the information he was looking for. Calling several numbers, he finally reached her former editor, who typically worked late into the night.

“Oh my God,” he said. “How did it happen?” Frank thought it best to be vague as the matter was still under investigation, and he didn’t want her death publicized until her family was notified. “Well,” he replied. “They don’t really know yet. They haven’t even done an autopsy, so I don’t really have any information.”

Frank could hear the emotion welling up in the editor’s voice, but he managed to pull himself together long enough to retrieve Betsy’s contact information. The section bearing her mother’s name stood out, and the editor quietly read it off to Frank. “Thank you,” he said. “I’ll contact them right away.” Before hanging up, the editor posed one more question.

“Did you say your name was Frank?”

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He saw it coming. Now that he was a senator, his name seemed to carry some clout, and people recognized him by name.

“Yes,” he replied. “The Senator.” A moment went by as the editor absorbed his response.

“Wow,” he said. “I didn’t realize she was so well-connected.”

Obviously the editor didn’t know that Betsy had been hired for his Senate campaign, then later hired to work for him. Another tense moment passed. “Well,” Frank said. “I really need to call her family.” The editor understood and the conversation was over.

Hanging up the phone, he stared at the piece of paper he had written on. This was the most difficult thing he would ever do in his life, and as his eyes continued gazing at the information he had just written, he wondered what he would say. He supposed there was no good way to deliver such tragic news, but the real problem was how to explain the way Betsy had died. In as much as it appeared to be a professional hit, Frank thought it might be best to promote the idea of a stray bullet. After all, DC sees a great deal of crime, and it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for one to be hit by a round gone astray. It would certainly be a safer explanation than trying to explain why their daughter had become the victim of what was likely a politically motivated murder.

The editor had given him only one number, and dialing it, he sat trembling as an older woman’s voice answered.

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“Hello,” she said.

Frank’s eyes teared up at what he was about to do. No one expects to get a phone call informing them that their child has passed, especially in an act of violence.

“Hello,” he said. “Is this Mrs. Towers?” There was a slight pause as the elder voice began to answer.

“Yes, this is Mrs. Towers. Can I help you?” The innocence of her voice only made it that much more difficult for Frank to carry out his somber task. “Mrs. Towers,” he replied. “My name is Frank. Are you the mother of Betsy Towers?” The woman’s voice began to tremble as she uttered a simple ‘yes’.

“Um, Mrs. Towers,” he continued. “I’m sorry to have to inform you of this, but your daughter was killed earlier today.”

He heard the phone drop as the woman began howling with grief. Any further words would likely go unheard, but he wanted to be certain that her mother completely understood the conversation. “Mrs. Towers?” Frank said. “Are you still there?” He imagined her having fallen to her knees as she attempted to pick up the phone and continued trying to get a response from her. So far there had been no mention of her father, but that would soon remedy itself as he heard a masculine voice in the background.

“Who’s this?” the voice said.

Now Frank had to break the news to her father. This would prove to be just as difficult, as fathers are especially protective of their daughters, and as Betsy

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had never mentioned siblings, he was beginning to assume she had been an only child. “Sir,” he began. “My name’s Frank, and I’m calling to let you know that there’s been an accident, and unfortunately your daughter Betsy is no longer with us.”

An uncomfortable silence followed as the man tried to hold back his emotions.

“How did it happen?” he asked.

He gave him the same vague explanation as he had her mother, who could still be heard wailing in the background. Like other men, he was trying to be stoic in the face of something that was presently eating away at his soul. But the dam soon gave way as her father burst into tears.

“I told her not to take that damn job,” he yelled. “Not in Washington. Any place else would’ve been just fine, but not there. Things are dangerous enough, God dammit!”

Extending his apologies, he offered to pay for any expenses—from having Betsy’s body shipped to the funeral service, casket, and burial plot. Whatever they needed, he would gladly pay for. Her father thanked him profusely, stating they were not people of great means and they deeply appreciated his help.

After a few more kind words, Frank hung up the phone and, sitting back on his couch, let his mind wander. At this point, being elsewhere was the safest place at the moment, but returning to reality, he started thinking about everything that had to be done. He needed to locate a funeral home close to her parents. He needed to arrange for transportation of her remains—an expense that would be far from

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cheap. Using his status as a United States senator would only cause problems, and knowing that Congress could vote him out, Frank was forced to tap into his savings. He was notified after the autopsy was completed, and accompanying her body saw to it that transportation was carried out properly. With all other expenses, the total came to roughly sixty thousand dollars, taking a bit more from his savings than he had imagined. But the chance to help her parents as well as provide Betsy with a proper send-off was worth every penny.