Deadly Politics (15 page)

Twelve

I raced into my
office, trying not to spill my refilled mug of coffee. My cell phone's familiar ring was sounding. Had to be a personal call. All business calls went through my BlackBerry. I was scrupulous about that. Better to keep personal and business separate. It saved a lot of problems.

The familiar beep sounded, indicating a voice mail, so I punched it in. Samantha Calhoun's magnolia-dipped voice came lilting over the line, bringing back memories. I stood at my desk, grinning and listening, while Samantha gushed her joy at my return and made a date to get together all in the same breath. Those Southern girls sure had a lot of hot air. She'd pick me up at five thirty tonight at the foot of Key Bridge on M Street. Look for a white Lexus.

What
? In the middle of rush hour traffic? She had to be crazy. We'd be run over by a pack of irate drivers if she tried to stop there.

I was about to call her and negotiate our meeting place when my cell phone rang in my hand. Celeste's number flashed on the screen.

“Hey, Celeste. How's the search going? Have you found anything interesting?”

“Well, yes and no, Molly. I'm searching all the emails for the last three months, and so far nothing has rung my buzzer, even the ones concerning fundraising. I copied them all for you anyway.”

Darn
. I was hoping something would jump out. “Well, at least that tells us there wasn't anything underhanded going on.”

“Was there any other area you'd like me to search, Molly? I agree that Jed is worrying about something, because that Larry creep comes down here to check on me several times a day. Every day, I swear to God. Always asking what I'm working on. It's pissing me off. I've started copying the files onto flash drives and doing my searches at home. That way, I have my regular work screen ready whenever the creep shows up. And I always cover my search tracks.”

“Oh, Celeste, I don't want you to take work home.” Now I was feeling guilty.

“No problem, Molly. It's become a quest.”

“Now that you mention it. Would you do a search involving the Epsilon Group? See what comes up, would you? Apparently it's a think tank or something.”

“Yes, I've heard of it. Sure, I'll go through the files and emails again. New target, huh?” Her voice sounded almost excited.

“Yeah, Celeste. New target. Let's see what we can hit.”

_____

“I hope you know I was nearly run over trying to get in your car just now,” I said, settling into the leather of Samantha's snow-white Lexus as she drove across Key Bridge into Virginia. “Whatever possessed you to pick me up back there?” I gestured toward the black-and-white neon façade of Dixie Liquor, a decades-old landmark, fast fading behind us in the rearview mirror.

“Nostalgia,” she drawled. “You remember when we used to sneak over the bridge with our dates on college break and try to buy liquor in Georgetown?”

I laughed out loud. Some memories were better left forgotten. “Don't remind me.”

Samantha's burnished auburn hair shone in the stylish cut that brushed the shoulders of her expensive designer outfit. Even though Samantha had lost her girlish figure years ago, the extra pounds seemed to add to her voluptuous quality. It emanated from her like her trademark gardenia perfume.

“Looking good, Miss Thing,” I said as we hurtled around Rosslyn Circle, horns honking around us. I braced for impact.

“Why, thank you, sugar,” she gave me one of her dazzling dimpled smiles. Unfortunately, she was also merging onto Route 66 at the time, causing even louder honking of horns. “And you're looking fantastic, Molly. I swear, how do you stay so slender? It took me two weeks at the spa to lose five pounds.”

“It's called stress. And I don't recommend it, even though it's effective.”

“Well, we'll just have to work on getting you to relax while you're here. Nobody's called me ‘Miss Thing' since you left town. It's so good to have you back, sugar.” Samantha suddenly reached over and gave me a quick hug while changing lanes at the same time.

Talk about stress. I wondered if I'd survive the drive to the restaurant. I was about to say a prayer, then remembered that I'd stopped praying years ago. God didn't listen anyway, so why bother?

A midnight-blue Mercedes swerved out of our way, its horn blaring. This time I cried out, “For the love of God, Samantha, would you watch where you're going!”

“No need to invoke the Almighty, sugar. You know I'm always in control.” Samantha corrected her trajectory with the tip of her finger while she gave a dazzling smile to the guy she'd just offended. Red-faced and apoplectic, he flipped her off.

“People are so rude nowadays,” she tsked.

“You probably gave that guy a heart attack, you know that?”

“Nonsense, he's just too stressed. Like you.”

Samantha's gardenia-scented cloud wafted over me from her hug. I inhaled the seductive fragrance as we passed the Iwo Jima Memorial. “That gardenia scent still drawing the men?”

“Like flies.”

“I tried wearing it once, but it gave me a headache. Maybe that's why I never had as many flies buzzing around me.”

Samantha gave me one of her looks. “Oh, they were buzzing, all right, but you kept swatting 'em down. I declare, Molly, you ought to let a couple land once in a while. It'd do you good.”

That made me laugh out loud again. Nobody talked to me like Samantha. Even Deb and Nan. “Well, I used to, but I've kind of sworn off flies since Frank.”

“Well, we'll just have to see about that,” she said as she steered the car down the George Washington Parkway, the Potomac glistening alongside in the late afternoon sun.

I decided to deflect Samantha's attentions and honor Eleanor's request, for all the good it would do. “Speaking of flies, it sounds like you've been attracting more than your share. In fact, Eleanor McKenzie is concerned enough she requested I have a ‘talk' with you. She's concerned about the, ah, how shall I phrase it, the pace of your recent liaisons?”

Samantha tossed me a wicked smile. “Did the Queen Mother call and ask you to check up on me?”

“No, I spoke with Eleanor at her musical evening a few days ago—”

“Those are so dreary. Only the booze makes them bearable.”

“The music helps, too. Anyway, Eleanor must have gone on for five full minutes, she was so concerned about your recent activities with the younger congressmen.”

Samantha snickered. “I imagine I've shocked the pants off the old girl.”

“Pretty much, so I promised I'd mention it to you. Even though I told her it wouldn't do any good. You're not about to change your wicked ways, are you, Miss Thing?”

“Why, heavens, no. I'm having way too much fun.” She flashed another smile.

“Okay, off the record. How many are we talking about here? Eleanor made it sound like you're taking a roll call of the junior members of Congress.”

Samantha hooted with laughter. “Oh, Lord, the old girl must be slipping. I've only taken a handful under my wing to groom, shall we say. Each one carefully selected, of course. They're all beginning to make their marks and about to move up.”

“With your guidance, of course.”

“Let's just say I have considerable expertise I can share with them. Help them avoid some of the early pitfalls. And I must say some of my earlier pupils have made quite a mark for themselves already.”

I grinned. “Sounds like you've established your own intern program.”

“I like to think I'm continuing my service to the Congress, in my own special way.” She gave me a wink before she steered the car onto a shaded driveway off the parkway. I glimpsed the river up ahead and a gracious colonial miniature mansion sprawling beneath the trees.

“All right, I'll report back to the Queen Mother that you've established your own finishing school of sorts. See how that flies,” I teased.

“Sort of a clandestine, undercover training program, you might say,” Samantha added with a grin.

We both sat in the car and laughed until tears came to our eyes.

_____

“Have you tried one of those fried oysters yet? They are scrumptious,” Samantha said, sipping her signature mint julep. Signature in that it was made with her favorite bourbon.

I had disappeared into a seafood-lover's dream once again. I was back home near the water. Big water. And all the delicious little creatures that swam and burrowed within it. Bivalves, crustaceans, and all the fishes in the sea. The Atlantic was only two and a half hours away. And Chesapeake Bay a mere hour. Almost close enough to smell it. Meanwhile, I was eating my way closer to the shore.

“I will in a minute. This crab soup is unbelievable.” I savored the creamy rich flavors. “I've been indulging myself in fresh seafood these last couple of weeks. Welcoming myself home, I guess.” I took a sip of my Cosmo and admired the view through the windows overlooking the Potomac. The water sparkled with the rays of the setting sun.

“You could have knocked me over with a feather when I learned you'd come home and were working for Russell. After all those years of trying to stay away, you just couldn't resist that old siren call, could you?” She took a big sip from her julep and smiled at me.

I enjoyed another couple of spoonsful of soup before taking the bait. “Well, I kind of fell into it. That commercial development position evaporated in a real estate crumble the very day I arrived. Thank God, Karen found this position with Russell, otherwise I'd be in a world of hurt. Trying to pay my mother's bills and all.”

Samantha swished the whiskey mixture in her glass. “I was simply stunned to hear about Karen. I'm so sorry I was out of town when it happened. I know how devastated you and your family were. She was a bright light on the Hill. Smart and principled. It's such a senseless loss.”

There was that word again. I finished my soup, took another sip of my Cosmo, and changed the subject.

“Speaking of Karen, I was curious what you know about her boss, Congressman Jackson. She made it sound like he's really trying hard to forge some strategic relationships in Congress. If so, I'd like to keep an eye on him. For Senator Russell's sake.”

Samantha raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you were his managerial accountant and financial consultant. Sounds to me like you're getting your fingers back into that messy ol' Washington pie.”

I tried to smile disarmingly. “Can't help it, I guess. Old instincts at work. I like to know who the players are. If I can help the senator, I will. And you know everything that's going on in Washington. The good, the bad, and the ugly. So I figured I'd pick your brain and get up to speed.”

“All righty, then. Off the record, of course. Jackson is a rising star and getting more attention in the party these last two years. The Democrats are clearly grooming him for the future, in my opinion. He's got the entire package. Solid record. Strong family back home in Nebraska. Keeps his nose clean here in Washington, and no, I haven't invited him over. He's already on the fast track.” She grinned.

“I'm impressed. What about his chief of staff, Jed Molinoff ? What's your opinion of him?”

Samantha took another sip and reached for a fried oyster before answering. “He's your typical hyper-ambitious chief staffer who knows his star rises and falls with the congressman. He's made it a point to impress some of the senior representatives and even some senators, so he's getting kind of full of himself. He can also be a little prick from what I've heard. Likes to throw his so-called weight around and impress junior staffers.”

“That kind of confirms my opinion of him. And Karen's.”

Samantha signaled for another drink, then jiggled the ice cubes in her empty glass. “There was a rumor about Karen and Molinoff. I don't know if—”

“She told me about the affair. She was also breaking up with him the night that she was killed.” I watched the pink concoction swirl in my glass. “That's what she was doing outside in her car that night, dammit. Calling all her Hill contacts to find another position. She was quitting Jackson's office because of Jed. And now that I've gotten a chance to see him in action, I'd have to agree with your description. Except, I'd make it stronger. He's a bastard. If it wasn't for Jed, Karen wouldn't have been outside when that vicious scum walked by looking for targets.” I drained the glass.

Samantha watched me carefully. “Life's not fair, Molly. You and I know that better than most people. The good die young. And leave the rest of us to clean up the mess. Let it go.”

I sank back into my chair as the waitress took my empty glass and provided Samantha with a replenished one. “You're right. And I wish I could let it go, but I can't. Jed Molinoff keeps doing things that set off my buzzer.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for starters, I caught him coming out of Karen's apartment when I went back for her clothes. He didn't see me because I hid downstairs. The bastard was even talking to his wife on his cell while he was there.”

“What do you think he was looking for?”

“Personal items and photos, probably. I saw him stuffing something into his jacket pocket, and the photos in Karen's desk were all messed up. I'm guessing he came to remove any link between Karen and himself. Suddenly remembering his wife and kids in Nebraska, no doubt.” I gave a disgusted snort.

“That was pretty brazen but understandable, Molly. He's just covering his ass.”

“Yeah, I know, but he's also been doing weird stuff at Jackson's office. One of Karen's staffer friends saw Jed rifling Karen's desk and copying files from her computer. When this girl said something to him, Jed had her reassigned to a lower-level job in Records.”

“Nothing strange in that, Molly. Again, it was just cover-your-ass tactics.”