Flash

morning hit of caffeine and news at Café Mantra, she thought.
    If they didn't show up in the next few minutes, she would call the coffee shop and tell someone to send the Light Fantastic staff off to work.
    She walked toward the bunting-draped stage and podium. The shadowed warehouse was so quiet that she could hear the creak of pilings and the muffled slap of water beneath the pier.
    She walked up the steps and across the stage to the red, white, and blue curtains that concealed the sound system and the control panel. She glanced up at the heavy, carefully rolled flag overhead.
    Her staff had outdone themselves. It really would have been a spectacular production, she thought. Maybe it wasn't too late to interest the Stryker campaign. She wondered if she should delay the teardown until she got hold of a Stryker publicist. If she could talk someone into coming down here to the pier for a demonstration…
    The squeak of aging timbers broke into her thoughts. The hair stirred on the nape of her neck. She glanced toward the entrance of the warehouse. A figure stood in the gloom.
    "Bolivar? About time you got my message. But maybe it's just as well you're a little late. I'm thinking it might be a good idea to call the folks at Stryker headquarters. I might be able to talk them into using this entire setup."
    "That's one of the things I've always admired about you, Olivia." Eleanor Lancaster walked through the shadows toward the stage. "You've got your priorities straight. The corpse of my campaign isn't even cold yet, but you're already planning to turn a profit on the remains."
    "Eleanor." A sizzle of guilt shot through Olivia. Her words had no doubt sounded extremely callous to a woman who had to be very depressed this morning. "I wasn't expecting you. What are you doing here?"
    "I came to say good-bye."
    Eleanor stopped at the foot of the short flight of steps that led up to the podium. She gripped the strap of her elegant leather shoulder bag very tightly. Dressed in a fitted red jacket, white blouse, and navy blue trousers, her hair bound sleekly at the nape of her neck, she looked as polished and purposeful as ever.
    The tragic heroine air that had come through so powerfully on television last night no longer radiated from her. In its place was the familiar aura of cool-headed determination and charismatic energy that had made her such a standout in the field of campaigners.
    "I know this has been a very difficult time for you," Olivia said quietly.
    Eleanor's smile was devoid of any real warmth. "You have no idea."
    Olivia was suddenly aware of a hot-cold sensation. An uneasy awareness hummed through her. The energy that always vibrated in the air around Eleanor seemed darker, more intense this morning.
    Instinctively Olivia edged back a step. The movement brought her up against the curtain at the rear of the stage.
    Don't get paranoid here, she told herself. Stay calm. Eleanor's a little upset. Perfectly natural.
    She took hold of the edge of the curtain to steady herself. "You know, Eleanor, I have to say I'm a little surprised at how quickly you threw in the towel. I thought you'd stay in the race and fight."
    "You haven't got a clue, have you?" Eleanor opened her purse and reached inside. "You have no concept of the damage you did."
    "What are you talking about?"
    "You're quite right. I could have won the election if I'd stayed in it." Eleanor removed an object from her shoulder bag. "But you made that impossible. You screwed up everything, Olivia. Every single plan I had so painstakingly made. And now I have no choice but to disappear."
    Light glinted dully on the pistol in her hand.
    Olivia stared, unable to believe what she was seeing. She swallowed and tightened her grip on the curtain.
    "I don't know what you're talking about," she whispered. Bolivar and the others would be here any minute, she thought. All she had to do was keep Eleanor occupied until they got here. "You could have been the next governor of this state. You might have been president in a few years."
    "Yes." Eleanor smiled again and started up the steps. "Yes, I most certainly would have been the next governor, and I could have gone all the way to the White House. But that is no longer possible, thanks to you."
    "Why do you keep blaming me for your problems?"
    "There are others who deserve blame, of course. But no matter how I look at the situation, I realize that you are at the heart of it. And so it is you who will pay." Eleanor sighed.