The Willard by LeAnne Burnett Morse Read Free Book Online Page A

female sensibilities must have been offended because she led Catherine to a stoop and told the skinny girl who had followed her from the alley to run and get her salts.
    “I’m not going to faint,” Catherine finally managed to say. “I’m just a little overwhelmed.”
    “Yes, I can see that. Is your husband nearby?”
    “My husband? I don’t have a husband.”
    “Your driver, then?”
    Catherine stared blankly at the woman.
    “Ma’am, I can tell from your appearance that you’re a lady so I’m sure you aren’t here in this part of town by yourself. You must be in shock. Where is your carriage?”
    “I walked here from the hotel,” Catherine said.
    “What is the name of your hotel?” the woman asked.
    “I’m staying at the Willard.”
    “Ah, the Willard brothers run a fine establishment. I’m staying there myself. Shall I see you home, then? Edward can help us sort everything out,” the woman assured her.
    “Edward?”
    “Yes my dear, Edward Chase. He’s the concierge. I’m sure you met him when you checked in.”
    “You know Mr. Chase?”
    “Of course.” The girl returned with the smelling salts and the woman said to her, “Go and tell Desmond to bring the carriage. We’ll be going to Mr. Willard’s for the evening. And bring my bag and green wrap.”
    For the first time since she woke up from her nap, Catherine began to hope that everything was about to get straightened out.
    This woman knows the concierge! I don’t have the slightest clue how that can be, but finally I can get some answers
.
    “I’ve been so rude,” the woman said. “I haven’t inquired of your name or introduced myself. I’m Laura.”
    “My name is Catherine Parker.”
    “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Parker. Here is my driver now. Let’s get you back to the hotel and into some clean clothes. I believe you’ll feel much better when you’ve had a chance to freshen up.”
    Laura, you have no idea how much I hope you’re right
.

C HAPTER 7
    TOM KELLY
    1962
    The driver opened the door for Tom after a ride of about a minute. There was no traffic jam this morning and as he stepped onto the sidewalk he found he was indeed looking at a guard station just outside the White House. The guard seemed to expect him and after a few cursory security checks he was handed off to a harried-looking staffer who had either slept in his clothes or not slept at all.
    He was rushing Tom down a hallway and into the West Wing. Before he could catch his breath he heard his escort speak.
    “This is Tom Kelly, Mrs. Lincoln.”
    The dark-haired woman barely glanced up as she worked the blinking phone lines, but he noticed she gave a barely perceptible nod toward a door Tom had seen in photos. He knew that door led to the Oval Office. His escort opened the door a crack and after a short pause said, “He’s here.” The door opened wider and Tom Kelly found himself looking into the world’s most famous office space. A file folder was passed from a man seated with his back to the door to another man who ran it over to Tom’s escort and as quickly as the door had opened, it closed and once again they were walking quickly down a hallway.
    “Read this,” the escort said, handing Tom the file. “Talk to no one in this room about it. He doesn’t want you to beinfluenced by anyone else’s thinking until he can hear from you directly.”
    Tom entered a room with a long conference table surrounded by chairs, one of which was taller than the others. The Cabinet Room.
    Around the table was an array of tired-looking men in shirtsleeves devouring reports and filling ashtrays with nubs sucked clean of their nicotine loads. There was little talking, but the frenetic atmosphere of the room was electric. There was volatility in this room. And anxiety. And fear.
    Tom pulled out a chair and started to read.

C HAPTER 8
    CALVIN WALKER
    1963
    “Dr. King?” Calvin asked, scarcely believing the words were coming out of his mouth.
    “Yes, I’m