The Housewife Assassin's Ghost Protocol

The Housewife Assassin's Ghost Protocol by Josie Brown Page B

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Authors: Josie Brown
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off my suspect list.  
    When they left through the lobby anteroom, the Secret Service agent was still standing by the door as Eve entered from the hall leading from the Oval Office. She placed Lee’s personal mug in front of his seat, then   said something to the Secret Service agent that made him laugh.
    At the same time, Babette walked down the hall to the Oval Office reception area. With no one there to stop her, she entered Lee’s office. Did Babette have time to find the DARPA file and compromise it?  
    I flip to the feed to see what she did. Yes, she went into the Oval Office, despite the door being shut.
    A few minutes later, Eve returned. At first, she didn’t notice that Lee’s door was closed. When she did, she went to investigate. After talking to Babette for a few moments, she left to fetch Lee.  
    Maybe three or four minutes went by before Lee was seen following her back to his office. The feed showed her closing the Oval Office’s door behind him.
    A few moments later, the First Lady exited with Lee.  
    By then, the others had finished their desserts. Lee joined them, but skipped dessert. Ten minutes later, the whole group made its way to the Roosevelt Room.
    When Lee joined them, he was carrying his folder.  
    Either he or Babette could have compromised it.
    I send the security files to the Acme’s cloud server, and text Arnie that he can access them there to do further analysis.  
    I walk back into the Oval Office reception area to say goodbye to Eve when I hear, “Donna Stone? What are you doing here?”  
    Ah, hell, it’s Babette.

Chapter 7
    Black Widows

    The term “black widow” is used to describe a species of spider that release a venom particularly harmful to humans, sometimes deadly. Like the majority of spiders, the black widow is dark in color. However, it does have one distinguishing mark on its abdomen, which resembles a red hourglass.
    “Black widow” is also a slang term for a woman who is suspected of killing her husband.
    Should you resemble the latter, here are a few tips:
    1: Don’t leave clues of how you did him in. Here’s where your obsession with spit-spot cleaning counts most!
    2: Act bereaved. Alas, that means resisting the urge to flirt with the handsome detectives that show up to investigate. (And broad hint: If they refuse your offer of a cup of tea, it means they’re on to you!)
    3: Make sure he really, truly is dead. Why? Because you don’t want him to quite literally come back to haunt you.  

    Scorn drips from Babette’s voice as she spits out my name. She can’t—make that, won’t—attempt any semblance of politeness.
    I’m not the only one resisting the urge to blanch at her menacing tone. Unlike some who must tread these hallowed halls of power in her wake, those whose jobs don’t tether them to her side quickly scurry from view.
    In the couple of weeks since I last saw her, her barely-there baby bump can now be seen. And if her couture maternity frock is any indication, the announcement of a new addition to the First Family was made while we were out of the country.  
    I wonder how well the proud papa took the press corps’ questions on the topic.  
    As if reading my mind, Babette’s face turns crimson with shame. Instinctively, she raises her hand protectively, as if covering a scarlet A on her breast.
    She should know by now that her secret is safe with me.  
    “I’m Donna Craig now, Babette,” I declare with as much honeyed sweetness as I can fake. “Don’t you remember? I was married a few weeks ago. You were at the wedding. In fact, you planned it—sort of…Ah, well, no matter.” I smile brightly. “So glad I ran into you!”
    “Really? Me and not Lee?” She sniffs the air, as if she smells a foul stench.  
    Babette’s minions—Narcissa Belmont, her chief of staff; and Lucretia Suchoff, her press secretary—also raise their noses in disdain. This is certainly a change of venue from where they are more accustomed to

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