Split Second

"I need all the background on and present whereabouts of Robert C. Scott, former Secret Service agent and detail leader for Clyde Ritter in 1996, and also on a man named Doug Denby, who was Ritter's chief of staff. And I need it ASAP."

King and Maxwell drove to Richmond to see Kate Ramsey, who'd returned to VCU and agreed to meet with them. The Center for Public Policy was on Franklin Street in the heart of Virginia Commonwealth University's downtown campus. The center was located in a beautifully refurbished brownstone. The street was filled with such houses, which represented the old wealth of a bygone era in Virginia's capital city.

Kate Ramsey met them in the reception area and led them back to a private office that was filled with books and papers, posters detailing various protests and other activities as well as music posters and assorted sports equipment befitting a youthful scholar.

Looking at the clutter, King whispered to Michelle that she must be feeling right at home and caught an elbow in the ribs.

Kate Ramsey was of medium height and had the build of a runner, with tight, lean muscles. Four different pairs of jogging shoes in the corner of her office confirmed this observation. Her hair was blond and tied back in a ponytail. Her clothes were college standard issue: faded jeans, sneakers and an Abercrombie Fitch short-sleeved shirt. She seemed poised beyond her years and regarded them both with a very frank expression as she sat across from them at her desk.

"Okay, Thornton already called me, so you can just ditch the story about doing a documentary on political assassins."

"We weren't very good at that anyway," said Michelle. "And the truth is just a lot easier, isn't it?" she bluntly shot back.

Kate's gaze shifted to King, who looked back at her nervously. He had, after all, killed the woman's father. What was he supposed to say?I'm sorry?

The young woman said, "You've aged pretty well. Looks like the years have been good to you."

"Not recently. That's why we're here, Kate. I can call you Kate, can't I?"

The young woman sat back. "It is my name, Sean."

"I know this is incredibly awkward."

She cut in. "My father made choices. He killed the man you were guarding. You really had no choice." She paused and drew a long breath. "It's been eight years. I won't lie to you and say I didn't hate you back then. I was a girl of fourteen, and you'd taken my father away."

"But now," said Michelle.

Kate's gaze remained on King. "Now I'm a grown woman and things are a lot clearer. You did what you had to do. And so have I."

"I guess you didn't have much choice in the matter either," commented King.

She leaned forward and started moving things around on her desk. King noted that she placed the pieces-a pencil, a ruler and other objects-at ninety-degree angles, then started over again. Her hands just kept moving, even as her gaze remained on King and Michelle.

"Thornton said there was new evidence indicating my father hadn't acted alone. What new evidence?"

"We can't tell you," said Michelle.

"Oh, that's great. You can't tell me, but you expect me to talk to you."

"If there was someone else involved that day, Kate, it's important we know who it was," said King. "I'd think you'd want that too."

"Why? It's not like it'll change the facts. My father shot Clyde Ritter. There were a hundred eyewitnesses."

"That's true," said Michelle, "but now we believe there's more to it."

Kate leaned back in her chair. "So what exactly do you want from me?"

"Anything you can tell us about the events leading up to your father's assassinating Clyde Ritter," said Michelle.

"He didn't suddenly come in one day and announce he was going to become a killer, if that's what you're wondering. I was only a kid at the time, but I still would have called someone about that."

"Would you?" said King.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

King shrugged. "He was your father. Dr. Jorst said you loved him. Maybe you wouldn't have called anybody."

"Maybe I wouldn't have," Kate said casually, then started shifting the pencil and ruler around again.

"Okay, let's assume he didn't announce his intentions. How about anything else? Did your father say anything that seemed suspicious or out of the ordinary?"

"My father had the veneer of a brilliant college professor but underneath was an unreformed radical still living in the sixties."

"Meaning what exactly?"

"That he was prone to saying outrageous things that could be construed as suspicious."

"Okay, let's get down to something more tangible. Any idea where he got the gun he used to shoot Ritter with? That was never traced."

"I was asked all that years ago. I didn't know then and I don't know now."

"All right," said Michelle. "How about anybody coming around in the weeks leading up to the Ritter shooting? Anybody you didn't know?"

"Arnold had few friends."

King cocked his head at her. "He's Arnold now?"

"I think I have the right to call him whatever I want."