Cold Case (2001) by Tom Clancy

Author:Tom Clancy [Clancy, Tom]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-03-17T20:24:19+00:00

"I remember my father introducing me to you on the Senate floor," P.J. went on. "I'm P.J. Farris."

"Trav Farris's son?" The man's interest now matched his geniality. "Well, you've certainly grown." He rolled his eyes. "To state the obvious. And who is this delightful young lady?"

"Megan O'Malley."

"Walter G. Callivant. A pleasure to meet you." The older man took Megan's hand in a warm clasp. It took her a moment to match the smiling face before her with the rather harassed figure in HoloNews clips that had provided so much material for the comedians.

Well, he didn't spill a drink on me, or spit when he talked, Megan thought.

"Some people get depressed when they discover that colleagues' children have grown up behind their backs," Callivant said. "I like to think of it as a glimpse into the future." He shook his head. "I also hope that wasn't something from an old campaign speech. Let me introduce you to someone more your own age. Nicola!"

Walter G. stepped over and neatly disentangled Nikki Callivant from the pair of fawning socialites. "May I present my granddaughter, Nicola. Nikki, meet Megan O'Malley and P.J. Farris. I worked with this young man's father, Trav Farris."

"The senator from Texas," Nikki said quickly. "Nice to meet you."

"Right--I'm sure it's very nice." P.J. laughed, looking at the zoo around them.

Nikki's smile broke through her company manners. "At least my grandfather knew you." Megan could barely hear her voice over the chatter around them.

"How can you stand it?" Megan asked.

Now Nikki's smile became rueful. "This event will help several charities my family supports, and the money is desperately needed. If I have to risk pneumonia and smile until my face hurts, it's a small price to pay. It's the least we can do--"

And it's an election year, Megan thought. She almost yelped as an elbow caught her in the ribs. There were other people who wanted to touch a Callivant, and Megan and P.J. were holding up the line.

"Perhaps I'll see you later," Nikki called after them. Then she turned to the next set of hand-grabbers.

"If I hold my breath till that happens, my face will match my gown," Megan muttered as they made their escape. "Nikki and her grandfather are doing better business than some of the refreshment stands."

"Which would you rather have?" P.J. asked mockingly. "The glow of personal contact with the Callivant clan, or mediocre domestic champagne and a scrap of mystery meat in puff pastry?"

"They're on display like prize hogs."

"It's for charity," P.J. said. "And I suppose it beats sticking your head through a hole in a sheet and having people throw pies at you."

"I suppose it's also for politics." Megan glanced at him. "Walter G. wants his party's nomination for senator."

They both looked at the older man shaking hands with lots of young and not-so-young Junior League supporters. "I'd say he's doing pretty well with the trust-fund constituency," P.J. observed.

"But they're cramping our style," Megan complained. "How are we even supposed to talk to her again?"

"As opportunity allows.

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