The Maplethorn Gambit (Book 2, The Maplethorn Series)

Manilla Envelope

Cameron Drexler stood at attention inside the visitors' lounge. He'd shed his waterlogged uniform jacket but still had to endure soaked-through trousers and squishy, wet shoes. His hair was tousled from the towel that hung draped around his neck.

Similarly, Luther Gates had removed his suitcoat but still wore muddy oxfords and rain-spattered slacks. He'd given up trying to convince Mr. Drexler to take a seat and was doing his best to diffuse the situation without revealing too much.

"Six months ago, my son was accused of murder," David Drexler fumed with the kind of indignation he usually reserved for the television cameras. "Murder!"

"No one said murder, Congressman," Gates said, keeping an even tone. "I believe the authorities wanted to talk to him about a boy who..." He paused, searching for the right word. "Disappeared."

"Only he didn't disappear," David Drexler pressed. "He was here the whole time. Hiding right under your nose. Am I wrong about that?"

"He was here, Congressman, but—"

Cam's father shook his head to let the commandant know that nothing he said would be the correct answer. "I'm paying this place a fortune to keep Cam out of trouble. Or at least out of the headlines."

"I understand that Congressman, but—"

"But?" David Drexler mocked. "But what?"

"It was the Sunderland boy's parents who went to the authorities," Gates said, still trying to present himself as the voice of reason. "They wanted to charge your son and the Kinsler boy with a hate crime."

The congressman released the lone button on his long, black coat. "That's absurd."

"I agree," Gates conceded.

David Drexler cocked an eyebrow. "What allegedly made this a hate crime?"

"Tober Sunderland is allegedly a homosexual."

Mr. Drexler's eyes darted to his son then back to the commandant. "How does anyone even know at that age?"

"Did you know you liked girls when you were in high school?" Luther Gates asked slyly.

"I don't care what he is," Mr. Drexler said firmly. "You should have shut that nonsense down immediately."

"Thomas Sunderland has some pit bull in him," Gates explained. "Once he gets hold of something, he doesn't let go."

The congressman frowned thoughtfully. "Why does that name sound so familiar?"

"You may have seen him on television if you're up early enough on Sunday mornings."

"He's that Sunderland?"

The commandant nodded purposefully. "Then you know him?"

"The man's notoriously anti-gay and gives a lot of money to candidates who share his views. It doesn't make any sense that he'd push to make this a hate crime."

"Maybe he had a change of heart?" Luther Gates proposed with a slight shrug. "Because as soon as he found out his boy was missing, he started raising holy hell. Had people doing pledge drives, lighting candles, inventing hashtags."

David Drexler made a sound somewhere between a snort and a laugh. "More like he saw an opportunity to put some dollars in the collection plate."

"I'm not here to debate the man's motivation, Congressman."

Cam's father ran his fingers through his thick, chestnut hair. "So, the Sunderland kid's not dead. Thank God for that. But we're getting off subject. You also had some lunatic doctor trying to lock kids up because he believed they had psychic powers."

"Dr. Bensen was—"

"And then—because apparently, that's not enough for me to deal with—my wife and I get to hear on the news that our son is dead." David Drexler rapped a knuckle against the tabletop. "Can you imagine what that does to a mother?"

Luther Gates opened his mouth to reply but quickly closed it without saying anything.

"And today, when I arrive," Mr. Drexler continued, growing angrier with every word. "Guess who I find out in the parking lot?"

Gates looked at Cam with raised eyebrows. "Perhaps you'd like to explain to your father how you got outside the walls, cadet?"

"I would advise you not to speak, Cameron," the lithe, dark-haired woman who arrived with the congressman said.

The commandant leaned forward and extended his right hand. "I'm sorry, we still haven't been properly introduced. You are?"

"Niharika Lashton," she said, gracefully rising from a nearby chair and accepting the handshake. "I represent the Drexler family in this matter."

Luther Gates' eyes bulged slightly. "Lashton? As in Lashton and Payne?"

"The same."

"And you're Cameron Drexler's attorney?" the commandant asked, releasing her grip.

"Cameron is a minor, and I have been retained as counsel to ensure that the best decisions are made on his behalf." Her accent gave the words a singsong effect.

"It's my understanding that your firm is aware of the more recent developments regarding our young cadet's, ah, situation," Gates said, obviously leaving much unspoken.

"I am aware of everything Cameron has been through during his time at Maplethorn," Niharika Lashton answered cryptically.

"Which is why we're taking him out of this school today," David Drexler added.

"Congressman, I'm afraid that's just not possible," Luther Gates said as respectfully as he could manage. "Your son was sent here by a federal judge who gave very explicit instructions that he remains until graduation. I'm sorry, but it's the law."

Mrs. Lashton reached into the leather bag that lay on the table beside her and produced a sealed manila envelope that she offered to Luther Gates. "We have obtained an order from that same judge allowing Cameron to serve the rest of his sentence on home confinement."

"Look, ma'am," Gates said, ignoring the envelope. "Cadet Drexler is a fine boy with a good amount of potential, but I believe it's critical that he serve the rest of his sentence at Maplethorn." The commandant turned to face Cam. "Wouldn't you agree, cadet?"

Cameron Drexler stood with his heels together, his arms glued to his sides and his eyes forward. He figured his best course of action was to keep his mouth shut and let Gates humiliate himself all on his own. "Go ahead," Cam thought. "I want to hear you tell my dad I can fly. I bet I can get Kinsler and the other guys out of here if everyone thinks you're insane."

"I'm going to have to ask you to direct all questions to me," Mrs. Lashton said with well-practiced politeness.

A brief sigh escaped Luther Gates' nose. "I really think—"

"Frankly, Mr. Gates, I don't care what you think." David Drexler glared at the commandant. "This place has been a travesty since you took over."

Gates ground his teeth together. "Congressman, most of your concerns took place before—"

"We're done here," David Drexler said, buttoning his coat.

"No, Congressman," Luther Gates countered, letting his emotions break through. "We are not done here. I have no intention of allowing this boy to walk out that door just because your high-priced lawyer waves a stack of papers at me!"

"Mr. Gates," the congressman said, his eyes bright with purpose. "I play golf with the Secretary of Defense. I will come back here with a goddamned tank if I have to, but I am taking my boy home today." He buttoned his coat and marched toward the exit. "Come on, Cam."

"Would you mind explaining what the hell is going on?" Luther Gates asked Niharika Lashton under his breath. "Am I supposed to let him go?"

Mrs. Lashton laid the envelope on the table and slung her bag over one shoulder. "Have a good day."