Eggsecutive Orders Read Free Page B

Brewster. “You don’t understand—”
    “No, Ms. Paras,” Brewster said slowly. “It is you who does not understand. Until we know what caused Agent Minkus’s unexpected death, there will be no food coming out of the White House kitchen. Especially not to be served to the president or his family.”
    I sat back. “You can’t actually believe that—”
    Still speaking slowly, he licked fat lips. “You will cooperate fully with the team assigned to you.”
    I wanted to argue, but I couldn’t decide what to say.
    Brewster fixed me with an impatient glare. “Now, I will ask you again. Do you understand?”
    I rubbed my forehead. “I’m beginning to.”
    Brewster turned to Guzy. “Have your brother bring in Buckminster Reed from the other room.”
    Bucky. My second-in-command. One by one, they would bring in everyone from the kitchen. Probably the sommelier and the butlers, too.
    Suddenly I felt the weight of it all. Someone had died on our watch. This had never happened before. Although I understood the need to find out why—and how—I knew no one on my staff would have made such a tragic mistake with food. Minkus could not have died as a result of our preparations. He must have died naturally, or in some non-food-related way.
    Brewster brought his face close to mine, interrupting my chain of reasoning. “You’re dismissed.”
    As Guzy and I headed out the door, I remembered something.
    I rushed back to Brewster’s desk. “We had guests yesterday.”
    The way Brewster raised his eyes made it seem as though his lids weighed a thousand pounds. Each. “Yes,” he said. “And one of them died. We have established that.”
    “No, I mean in the kitchen.” The man’s bored expression urged me to talk faster. “I can prove that no one in the kitchen did anything wrong. We had cameras rolling yesterday. All day. We had guest chefs in the—”
    He held up his hand. “Guest chefs?”
    “A TV special,” I said. “Suzie and Steve.” I wanted to make the point that I could prove that nothing had been handled improperly. We could get this whole thing cleared up if only someone would take the time to review yesterday’s recordings.
    “Suzie,” he repeated without interest. “And Steve.”
    “You know, the SizzleMasters.”
    He rubbed his nose, then scribbled a few notes on the pages before him. With another impatient look at me, he turned to Guzy. “Get me everything you can on this Suzie and Steve. And round them up, too.”
    “Round them up?” I asked in horror.
    Guzy tugged my elbow.
    “You misunderstand,” I said. “I’m not saying they did anything wrong. I’m saying I have proof that—”
    “Lot of that misunderstanding going around here today, wouldn’t you say, Ms. Paras?” Brewster pointed to the door. “Thanks for the tip. You think of anyone else who might be suspicious, you let us know.”

CHAPTER 4

    LOOKING SMALL AND SCARED, CYAN WAS SEATED on a white plastic folding chair when Agent Guzy brought me into the next room. “Cyan!” I said, rushing toward her.
    She jumped to her feet. “Ollie.”
    “No talking.”
    We stopped, startled—feeling like criminals. Did they really believe we killed Minkus?
    Taking a seat next to Cyan, I realized, belatedly, that that’s exactly what we were up against.
    Agent Guzy walked to the far end where his twin stood, staring straight ahead. Brewster had mentioned they were brothers, so I hadn’t been too far off when I assigned them the monikers of Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Guzy One spoke in low tones to Guzy Two, and the second man left the room.
    My chair wobbled. I tried to sit very still to prevent it from making noise in the silence. Hard to do in such a chilly place, I thought, suppressing a shiver. White unadorned walls prevented me from finding anything of interest to focus on. The only thing in the room I could watch was the agent, who stood unmoving, except for the occasional blink.
    Cyan and I shared a look. She shrugged. Since