Deadly Politics (20 page)

I stopped pacing and suddenly felt very tired. Cessation of movement. I stared at Danny, who was watching me carefully. “I'm gonna make him.”

Danny patted the sofa. “Sit down and tell me how.”

I settled on the other end of the sofa, letting the cushions envelop me. Sinking back into the soft cushions' embrace, I took another sip of the seductive velvet.

“I'm gonna tell him somebody saw him get into Karen's car.”

“What happens when he says ‘prove it'?”

I slipped off my heels and let them fall to the carpet, then snuggled even deeper into the cushions. Taking a large sip, I pondered what Danny just said. But my thoughts were coming slower, not racing as they had been since yesterday. I took another sip of Cabernet as I searched for ideas, but no new ideas came. My eyelids felt heavier.

I lay my head back. “Haven't figured that out yet.” I saw Danny through my eyelashes.

“You can figure it out tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow …” I repeated. I wasn't sure, but I thought I saw Danny reach over and take the glass from my hand as my eyelids closed.

Seventeen

It was the sound
of birds singing that woke me up. Morning birdsong. I opened my eyes and found myself still curled up on the sofa, but I was covered by an afghan that was usually across the back of a stuffed chair.

Danny was still at the other end of the sofa, lying back on the cushions, his leather jacket over him. He'd kept watch over me all night.

Glancing at the clock on the bookcase, I focused on the time. 6:10. Still early. Sleep tugged at me, but the other part of my brain was already waking up. Maybe I could just slip away quietly, go upstairs to shower …

As if he detected my slight movement, Danny woke up. He looked over and gave me a crooked smile. “Go back to sleep, Molly. It's early yet.”

“Can't. I looked at the clock. That's the kiss of death for sleep. Besides, guilt is seeping in again. You wound up babysitting me the entire night.”

“It was easy. Remember the twenty-year-old Cabernet?”

I laughed softly. “How could I forget? Man, that stuff is powerful.”

“Yeah, it is.” He tossed his jacket over the coffee table and sat up and stretched.

So did I. “Listen, let me take you out to breakfast. Without that Cabernet I'd probably still be pacing. Thanks to you, I had a restful night.”

“You've got a deal. There's a great little French café on M Street. Best French bread in town. Coffee's good too,”

“Think it'll be open this early?”

“Positive.”

I grabbed my shoes. “Let me take a fast shower and change so I can go to the office directly. There's orange juice in the fridge.”

_____

I pulled the fat croissant apart, letting the buttery flakes fall on the plate. The familiar rich taste never disappointed. And black raspberry jam, to die for. Calories, be damned. I took a big sip from the jumbo bowl-sized cup of coffee.

“You were sweet to stay last night.”

“I wanted to make sure you got some sleep before you made any decisions. You look a lot better this morning. Not as frazzled.” He popped a jam-laden bite of croissant into his mouth.

“Frazzled. That's being kind,” I admitted. “But you're right. I do feel better.”

Danny took a drink of black coffee. “Do me a favor, will you? Give me a call before you head out on Mission Molinoff.”

I quirked a smile at him. “You want to ride shotgun again?”

“Oh, yeah.”

I nodded and made him the same promise I'd made Casey. “Deal.”

_____

Casey leaned in the doorway to my office, his red-rimmed eyes indicated he hadn't had much sleep either. “You doing okay, Molly?”

I looked up over my computer and leaned back into my cushioned desk chair. “Yeah, I am. Thanks to Danny. He brought over a bottle of reserve Cabernet so I could have a good night's sleep. Bless him.” I left out the part of Danny watching over me all night. No need to add to household gossip.

Casey's tired face smiled ever so slightly. “I'm glad to hear that. You looked pretty damn mad last night. I was worried what you might do.”

I reached for my coffee mug. “I'm still damn mad, Casey. I just haven't figured out what to do yet.” That was a half-truth. I already knew what I planned to do, but I was still working out the details.

“Danny give you any advice?”

“Oh, yeah. He made me promise he could ride shotgun if I decide to pay Molinoff a visit.”

I saw Casey visibly relax. “That makes me feel a whole lot better. When are you planning to do this?”

“I'm still deciding,” I hedged, knowing he could tell. “By the way, did you tell Lieutenant Schroeder?”

“Yeah, and he was not happy to hear that Molinoff was holding back.”

“Is he going to question Jed again?”

Casey shrugged. “He'll probably give him a call, see if he can coax any more information out of him. Let's face it, with no witness, there's not much Schroeder can do.”

“That's the problem,” I said, tapping my fingernail against the rim of the china mug.

“I know you want to confront Molinoff and get in his face, but it won't be worth the effort or the aggravation. He's been working for politicians for years. He can lie twenty ways till Sunday. You'll never get him to admit anything.”

“You may be right.” I stared out through the curtains lifting in the breeze. The late April warmth was inviting, calling me outside. “But maybe I can get in his head while I'm getting in his face. You know, throw the fear of God into him.” I sent him a wry smile.

“Good luck with that. Meanwhile, I'll need you to hold down the fort for the rest of the day,” Casey said as he stepped into the hall. “I'll be doing chauffeur duty all day and tonight probably. Ferrying media types and publicity firms out to Dulles Airport. Senator Russell is inviting them on his own green-energy tour back in Colorado. Wind and solar.”

“Why isn't Albert driving?”

“He and Luisa are taking this weekend off and visiting their daughter and grandchildren back in Colorado, so I'll be dropping them off at Dulles too.” He gave a wave as he headed toward the foyer. “Just lock up when you leave, Molly. I'll come by and check late tonight after I finish driving.”

“Take care, Casey. At least you can use the Dulles Access Road.”

“Amen to that,” he called down the hall.

I returned to checking my email, sipping coffee as I answered messages. In the midst of one email, a beep sounded and a message from Peter's BlackBerry flashed onto my screen.

“
Molly. I left a mailer on my desk with Russell's replies to Congressman Jackson's inquiries about the western states' energy consortium. Please call the congressman's office and have one of their people pick it up. I forgot to drop it off this morning. Thanks. Have a great weekend.”

I read the email again, taking my time as I sipped my coffee. Then I read it again. An idea sprang up. I let the various elements play through my head several times, sorting through it all, as I went to refill my coffee mug. My high heels echoed on the floors of the empty house. By the time I returned to my office with another steaming mug, I'd made my decision.

Settling in my upholstered chair, I checked my BlackBerry directory for Congressman Jackson's office number.

_____

“What's up?” Danny answered on the second ring.

“Ready for Mission Molinoff ?”

“I can be. You've got something planned, Molly. I can hear it in your voice.”

“Russell and all of the house staff, including Casey, are off to Dulles. Even Casey will be gone for hours. Peter asked me to get a package to Congressman Jackson's office. So instead of asking for a courier, I called and said Russell's ‘staff' had some questions. I asked if Jed could come over.”

Danny paused. “That's a fine line you're skating.”

“I know, but it's technically correct. I am part of Russell's staff, but they'll automatically think it's Peter who's got the questions.”

“When's this going to happen?”

“The receptionist called me back and said the congressman's chief of staff would be over sometime after five.”

“Okay, I'll be there by four. Just in case Molinoff's early.”

“Don't hold your breath.”

_____

I watched from the side hallway as Danny escorted Jed Molinoff to the outside gardens. Emerging from my viewing post, I met Danny as he walked back down the hallway. The thick mailer tight in my hand, I smoothed the skirt of my fuchsia red suit. Red always made me feel good.

“You ready, corporal?” Danny eyed me.

“Oh, yeah,” I said, quickening my pace down the hall, Danny on my right.

I stepped out onto the patio and spotted Jed Molinoff pretending to admire the flowerbeds. He turned at the sound of my footsteps coming down the steps. I took no small delight in seeing the various emotions flash across Jed's face. Surprise, then apprehension, with a hint of fear.

“Where's Peter Brewster? I'm supposed to meet with him,” Molinoff demanded as I approached.

Danny stopped at the bottom of the steps. The better to block any quick exit, no doubt.

“Peter had to return to Colorado this weekend,” I said, tapping the mailer in my hand. “He asked me to give you this.” I handed it over.

Jed didn't even bother to conceal his annoyance. “You mean you called me away from the Hill for a delivery? We could have sent an intern.” Jed snatched the mailer from my hand. “This is a farce.”

He started to walk away, until I stepped into his path, my hand up. “Not yet, Jed. I have some questions.”

Molinoff shot me a scornful look. “I'm not answering any questions. I'm leaving.”

Suddenly Danny appeared by my side, blocking Jed's exit. “Ms. Malone has some questions. So why don't you settle down and answer them. It shouldn't take more than a few minutes.” His voice was low and didn't sound overtly threatening, but there was a tone of “
Better do what I say
.”

Molinoff looked up at Danny and immediately retreated to the flowerbeds. “Okaaaay, I can tell you've got something on your mind, so why don't you just spit it out,
Ms
. Malone.”

“Has that police detective, Lieutenant Schroeder, called you to ask more questions?” I asked, folding my arms.

Apprehension showed briefly on his face, then was replaced with his mask. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“If not, he will. Especially since our security guard found out one of the kitchen workers saw you getting into Karen's car the night she died.”

Molinoff blanched, and panic darted through his eyes for a second before he ducked his head and cleared his throat. “Look, Ms. Malone, I know you're still mourning your niece's death, but I swear to you, I had nothing to do with Karen's death. It was a horrible tragedy.” He looked back, and I saw the scorn was gone. I had to give him credit. His expression appeared sincere.

“Oh, yes you did, Jed. You saw something that night, didn't you? Was it the killer? Did you see some guy walk by her car after you left her alone and defenseless?”

Molinoff's eyes widened, real fear this time. “No! I swear to you, I didn't see anyone!”

“You have to tell the truth, Jed. Our security said the detective was not happy to learn you didn't tell him the whole truth the first time he questioned you. You were the last person to see Karen alive, admit it.”

Jed glanced away, twisting the mailer in his hand. “I'm not admitting anything. You have no proof anyway. Who is this kitchen worker? Some illegal?” He looked back, scorn returning to his face. On the offensive again. “I know what you're up to. You've got some twisted vendetta against me because Karen and I had an affair, that's all. And now you're trying to implicate me in her death. Well, it won't work. You've got nothing on me. No credible witness. Nothing. I'm not listening to any more of this bullshit.”

He started to walk the other direction. Danny immediately went to intercept him, until I reached for his arm to hold him back. Danny gave me a questioning look.

“Either you go to the police, or I go to the press,” I called out as Jed raced up the steps to the patio door.

Jed halted his escape and turned. Gone was the bravado I'd just witnessed. Wiped away in an instant. “What are you talking about?”

“If you won't do the right thing and admit what you know to the police, then I'll alert the media and tell them I have a statement concerning my niece's violent and tragic death.” I caught Jed's nervous gaze and held it as I walked up the steps slowly. “Once the reporters and the television crews are in place, I'll tell them the real reason my brilliant and accomplished niece was killed by a roaming mugger that night.”

“What do you mean?”

I paused at the top of the steps. “Ohhhhh, it'll make a great story. Perfect for the tabloid-TV news shows. Sex and scandal. Red meat for the press. Congressional staffer who's trying to end a tawdry affair is hounded by her rejected ex-lover at a reception. Hiding out in her car, she falls prey to a ruthless mugger who kills his victims.”

Jed's face went whiter than before. “But that's not true!”

“Ohhhhh, but it is. And we do have witnesses to your intimidation and argument with Karen. The security guard who had to restrain you, the senator's chauffeur who showed Karen to her car, and me. I saw it all. Credible witnesses, each and every one of us.”

I stepped toward him, not breaking my gaze. “The press will eat it up. You'll lead the sleaze news reports for days. Not just here in Washington, but in Nebraska, too. How do you think this will play in Omaha? Think the folks back home will understand? How about your wife and kids, Jed? You've been pretty good about forgetting them, haven't you?”

Jed started backing away from me, so I moved forward. “Have you ever been hounded by the press, Jed? I have. It was over twenty years ago, but I can still remember the sickening feeling. Seeing that mass of cameras waiting outside my house, and reporters yelling questions in my face. I remember how scared my little girls were whenever they saw those crowds. They started to cry every time.” Watching Jed's lower lip start to tremble, I waited a second, then asked. “How old are your children, Jed?”

He stared at me, clearly frightened. “You wouldn't.”

I observed him for a minute, watched desperation and panic dart across his face. “Yes, I would. Even if it costs me my job. I'm going to do everything I can to find Karen's killer. No matter what it takes. The press doesn't scare me. So I have nothing to lose. But you do. Think about it, Jed.”

His mouth opened, like he was going to say something, but no words came out.

“Help the police find Karen's killer. And you'll never hear from me again.”

With that, I walked toward the patio door. Pausing on the threshold, I turned to Danny, who was watching intently. “Could you please show Mr. Molinoff out?”