Bill knew that corruption wove through politics like the intricate pattern on a snake’s back. But would vipers sharing the same pit turn on each other?

It was twelve-thirty in Missouri, which meant two-thirty in Washington. D.C. Jack would probably still be up. Bill thought as he walked into the house. His job often kept him writing late into the night. Bill made his way into the kitchen, and picked up the phone.

Jack answered on the third ring.

“Were you asleep?” Bill asked.

“No. I just finished an article on government waste. Is anything wrong?”

“Not really. Just had an odd experience at a society event. It brought up some questions I thought you might be able to help me on.”

“What do you know about Mort Fields?”

“That’s a loaded question. There are a million facets to that man, but he keeps a low profile. There’s not a lot published about him. He’s one of the richest men in Missouri – in the country, for that matter, but you know that. What are you looking for?”

“I’m not sure.” Bill proceeded to relay the conversation he’d had with Fields about Warner and Carolyn. “Mort told me he’d get some paperwork to me I might find interesting. I’m worried about the ramifications to the party if the Lanes are in business with him.”

“Didn’t you already suspect graft?” Jack asked. “I mean, when I was home a couple of years ago, you told me you suspected they were involved in improprieties. This may be the break you were looking for.”

“Forget the break. I’d rather the Lanes were clean and I could save the party the embarrassment.”

“Doesn’t sound likely. And you may be getting in over your head. Dad. Why don’t you get some help on this?”

“No. I’m not saying anything about my suspicions until I have concrete evidence. It wouldn’t be fair to the Lanes or our party. And I’ll ask that you keep it confidential as well.”

“Sure. But why don’t you let me come down and help you? I’ll call some of my sources.”

“No. I don’t want anyone else involved. I don’t want this leaked. If I get anything tangible, I’ll let you know.”

“It won’t be leaked. My sources are solid.”

“Even so. I don’t want you to do anything right now.”

“I’m not asking in order to get the inside hack for a story. My primary concern is you. I just want to help you.”

“Jack, your career is your life. I realize that fact. And I would never dangle a story in front of your nose and tell you to squelch it. At this point, there’s nothing solid to report, so I don’t feel as though I’m pushing your endurance. But dragging you into the middle would be unfair.”

“I’m a grown man. I can handle the temptation.”

“You’re a journalist.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“I don’t mean it like that. Can’t we change the subject?”

“Fine. When are you coming back to Washington?” Jack asked.

“I have to be back by next Thursday for a vote on the budget. Will you be in town? Maybe we could have dinner. If Mort’s documents show anything substantial. I could share them with you.”

“I’m afraid not.” Jack responded. “I’m going to Montana on Monday to cover the Unabomber case. Why don’t you let me do some checking on Mort?”

“No. Don’t make me sorry I discussed this with you.”

“What’s wrong with wanting to look out for you? Like father, like son.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s late and I’m tired… I miss you.” There was a pause. “And, Jack…”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really proud of you,” Bill said softly. “You’ve made quite a name for yourself. You’re head and shoulders above the pack.”

Silence hung on the phone line. “Thanks, Dad.”

Bill cleared his throat, “Anyway, I’ll send you any paperwork I get on the Lanes and Fields. Maybe you’ll be able to figure out Fields’s motivation for exposing the Lanes.”

<p>TWENTY-TWO</p>April 27,1996 – Jefferson City, Missouri

Carolyn Alden Lane was sitting at her desk in the Cole County Courthouse when her intercom buzzed. “Yes?”“

“Senator Rudly is here to see you.” Katherine said.

Carolyn glanced at her calendar. There was no appointment scheduled. How odd. “Send him in.”

Carolyn stood when Bill Rudly entered. “Senator, what a nice surprise. What brings you here today?”

Bill shook her hand. “Quite frankly, I’m here as a professional courtesy.”

Carolyn motioned for him to sit, then sat facing him.

“It’s been brought to my attention that there may be some problems with Warner running for reelection.” Bill said.

Carolyn frowned. “What are you talking about? I know we’ve gone round and round before on several issues, but aren’t you as tired of this as we are? We belong to the same political party and should be supporting each other, not constantly bickering.”

“This isn’t about fighting, and it’s not personal. I’d love to be able to support Warner, but my first loyalty goes to this country and the people who’ve elected me. If I see something questionable, I question it. So, please, don’t insult me by suggesting that party loyalty should be the first course of business. If s not. And God help this country if that ever changes.”

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