Mirror Image

about—the gray-haired man—he’s here. I saw him this morning. Tate, for God’s sake don’t go.”
    “I have to.”
    “Please.” Tears formed in her eyes. “Please, believe what I’m telling you.”
    He was buttoning his pale blue shirt. His hands paused. “Why should I?”
    “Because I love you. That’s why I wanted to assume the role of your wife. I fell in love with you while I was still in the hospital. Before I could move or speak, I loved you.
    “Everything I’ve told you is the truth. A threat has been made on your life. And yes, a chance for a terrific story presented itself to me and I took it, but…” Here she clutched his shoulders between her hands and appealed to him. “But I did what I did because I wanted to protect you. I love you and have from the beginning.”
    “Tate, they’re—” Eddy came barging in. “What the hell is going on in here? I thought you’d be dressed by now. They’re tearing the place apart downstairs, waiting for you to put in an appearance. Everybody’s gone nuts. Come on. Let’s go.”
    Tate looked from his friend to Avery. “Even if I believed you,” he said with quiet helplessness, “I don’t have a choice.”
    “Tate, please,” she begged, her voice tearing like paper.
    “I don’t have a choice.”
    He removed her hands and quickly finished dressing. Eddy coached him on whom to thank publicly. “Carole, you look like hell. Before you come downstairs, do something with your face,” he ordered as he pushed Tate through the door.
    Disobediently, Avery dashed after them. There were even more people in the suite now. Campaign workers had thronged the corridor and were forcing their way through the double doors to catch a glimpse of their hero. The noise was deafening. Somehow, over it, Avery heard Carole’s name and turned in that direction.
    Fancy squeezed through the squirming bodies. Inertia propelled her straight into Avery’s arms. “Fancy! Where have you been?”
    “Don’t lecture me. I’ve been through bloody hell trying to get here. There’s a guy out in the hall who’s really pissed off because I welshed on a deal and another one named John who’s—”
    “Was there anything in the box?”
    “Here.” The younger woman thrust the package at Avery. “I hope to God it’s worth all the hell I’ve been through to get it here.”
    “Carole! You, too, Fancy, let’s go!” Eddy shouted at them, waving them toward the door above the heads of the celebrants.
    Avery ripped into the envelope and saw that it contained a videotape. “Stall them if you can.”
    “Huh?” Stupefied, Fancy watched her slip into the bedroom and shut the door behind her. “Jesus, is it me, or has everybody else gone fuckin’ nuts?” A total stranger danced by and thrust a magnum of champagne into her hand. She took a long gulp.
    Inside the bedroom, Avery inserted the tape into the VCR. She backed up toward the bed until the backs of her knees made contact, then sat down on the edge of it. Using the remote control, she fast-forwarded past the color bars to the clapboard. She recognized the station’s call letters. Washington state, wasn’t it? The reporter’s name was unfamiliar to her, but the photographer was listed as Van Lovejoy.
    Excitement churned inside her. Van had sent the tape to Irish’s box, so it must contain something vitally important. After watching for several minutes, however, she couldn’t imagine what that something might be. Was Van playing a joke?
    The subject of the piece was a white supremacist and paramilitary group that had a permanent encampment located in an undisclosed spot, deep within the forested wilderness. On weekends, members would meet to plan their annihilation of everybody who wasn’t exactly like them. It was their goal to eventually take over America, making it the racially pure, undiluted nation it should be.
    Van, who to Avery’s knowledge, had no political predilection, must have been alarmed by the ferocity of the hatred the organization espoused, for he had documented on tape the war games they played. He featured them swapping arms and ammunition, training newcomers in guerrilla tactics, and indoctrinating their children into believing that they were superior to everyone. They preached it all in the name of Christianity.
    It was captivating video and the news hound inside her regretted having to fast-forward through it. She ran it at normal speed occasionally to make sure she wasn’t missing the