***

Daniel’s office felt quiet. His suit jacket hung on the back of the chair he was slumped in. He fiddled with the end of his tie, an act that had taken up most of his morning. There were piles of papers on his desk, beckoning to be read, but the half-empty bottle of whiskey hiding in his desk drawer drained any ambition to accomplish it. The familiar knock of his assistant hit the door, and Meghan poked her head inside, as she had done all morning, to check on him.

“Congressman, I’m heading to lunch. Can I get you anything?” Meghan asked.

Daniel gently shook his head and waved her off. She smiled politely, the hint of concern still etched on her face. The click of the door’s handle was the only thing Smith seemed to hear. Every once in a while, his eyes would find the windows. It was sunny outside, and despite him keeping the lights off, the office was still warmly illuminated. He could have risen to shut the curtains, but even that seemed like too much of a task.

The news of Smith’s arrest still lingered in the back of his mind. And no matter how much liquor he drank to try and drown it out, there it remained. It was Smith’s own fault. That’s what he kept telling himself. Both of them had danced with the devil. Daniel just so happened to have found the beat a little quicker.

I did it for my family. That was the other voice echoing in his head. That’s what he focused on to help rid himself of Smith’s voice. All he needed to do was make the list of justifications longer than his list of sins.

There was another knock on his door. Daniel didn’t respond. Another knock.

“Meghan, I told you I didn’t want anything,” Daniel said.

The door cracked open, and Daniel straightened himself in the chair when his wife stepped inside. She wore a light sundress with heels. Her cheeks were reddened from the sun outside.

“Amy, what are you doing here?”

Daniel had only seen his wife in his office a handful of times, most of which had been during his first term. Amy fiddled with her fingers, the tips of her manicured nails scraping against one another. She gave him a half smile.

“You didn’t return any of my calls,” she said.

Daniel squinted, trying to remember what he had done with his phone. He patted his shirt and pants pockets. He pulled open the top drawer of his desk and found the cell. It was still turned off.

“I’m sorry. I turned it off to save the battery. Is everything all right?”

“I heard from Brooke.”

“That’s great. Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. She made it to Dallas. She’s going to call me again tomorrow.”

“That’s great news.”

“Daniel, we have to help her. She’s a fugitive. There has to be something you can do.”

When Daniel stood up, he felt the room spin. He clutched the edge of the desk to steady himself. He focused on the pen on top of a stack of papers. He clung to it for dear life.

“Daniel?” Amy asked.

He waved it off. “I’m fine.” He let go of the desk, wobbled a bit more, but remained upright. He smiled, accentuating the dark circles under his eyes. “Just been sitting down all morning.” He walked over to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Amy sniffed the air around him.

“Daniel, are you dru—”

The slam of the office doors finished the sentence for her. Jones stood at the office entrance. Distracted by the noise, Amy couldn’t see the twisted glare tearing across Daniel’s face.

“Mrs. Hunter, it’s wonderful to see you again,” Jones said, walking over and giving Amy a light kiss on the cheek. “Come to congratulate your husband?”

“Congratulate?”

“Daniel. You haven’t told her? So modest. Daniel has just received an appointment on the resource committee.”

Amy’s jaw dropped. She turned around, and Daniel forced a smile. “That’s great!” Amy threw her arms around Daniel’s neck, and Jones mouthed, “Get her out.”

“Thanks, honey. Look, why don’t we grab dinner tonight. I’m still swamped with work, but we can go over everything then,” Daniel said.

“Maybe Congressman Jones can help?” Amy asked.

Jones peaked his left eyebrow. “With what?”

“Nothing. I’ll handle it. Amy, we’ll talk about it later.”

“Oh. Well, all right then.”

Daniel gave her another kiss, and Amy closed the door behind her. The moment it clicked shut, Daniel grabbed Jones by the collar. “What the hell do you want?”

Jones pushed Daniel off him, and he stumbled backward. “Been having a drink, Daniel?”

Daniel staggered to his desk and loosened his tie. He reached for the bottle of whiskey and unscrewed the cap. “I’m celebrating. Remember?” He didn’t bother reaching for the glass, he just tipped the bottle back and took a few chugs.

Jones stomped over and ripped the bottle from Daniel’s lips. A stream of brown liquid splashed to the carpet. Daniel reached for the bottle again, but Jones kept it out of reach. “Pull yourself together.” Jones dumped the rest of the liquor into the trash and took a seat in one of Daniel’s chairs.

“Make yourself at home,” Daniel said.

“We still have work to do.”

“No. I’m done. You got what you wanted from me. Smith is in jail. The bill failed. I’m done.”

“You’re done when I say you are. The charges against Smith will be hard to stick, even for the attorney general. The damage to his credibility will be extensive, but we have other things to worry about. We have to repair the U.S. relations with Mexico.”

“And I thought I was the drunk one.”

“If that doesn’t happen, we are dead. And not just us but the country. We can’t afford the war with the Mexicans, and we need their help to obtain the rivers in South America.”

Water. Wars. Death. The words floated through Daniel’s mind like fiction. Imaginary concepts that weren’t supposed to be used together in this world. But they were. It was real.

“What do you expect me to do about it? The president will be making his address within the hour,” Daniel said, rubbing his face. The effects of the whiskey were beginning to take their toll.

“I’m thinking,” Jones said.