Deadly Politics (5 page)

I broke the cobra-mongoose stare long enough to reply. “I'm the one who's honored to be considered for the position, senator, but I'm not sure my past experience is adequate to its demands.”

Russell looked astonished. If he was acting, he was skillful. “Adequate? Surely you're joking? We know your credentials, Molly. You're over-qualified for this position, and you know it. I've followed your career in Colorado for years. You're a dynamic addition to any politician's team.”

Damn
. Everyone's read my file.

“She suffers from a surfeit of modesty, Senator,” Brewster observed.

“Washington will cure you of that soon enough. You've been away too long, Molly,” Russell said, still clasping my hand. Suddenly his grin faded, and he placed his other hand on top of mine. His gaze turned sad. “Let me say, first off, that I am completely aware of your reluctance to return to this swamp of dissension that marks our Capitol City, and the reasons for it. The early loss of your husband was tragic, indeed. He was a brave, idealistic young congressman who had only the people's interests at heart. We need more like him in Congress.”

The senator's earnest and passionate statement took me by surprise. “That's … that's very kind of you to say, Senator. Thank you. David tried to make a difference while … while he was alive.” I didn't trust myself to say more.

Russell patted my hand in a fatherly fashion before he released his grip. “He was simply following in your father's footsteps, Molly. In fact, that's what I'm hoping to accomplish while I'm here in Washington. To be a voice of reason and reform in that rancorous chamber. Follow your father's example and try to reach out and build bridges. Be a moderate voice for change and reform, and I'm hoping to inspire others to join me. It's time our politicians stopped worrying about themselves and concentrate on the needs of the people who elected them. We're the people's congress, after all. We serve at their pleasure. Your father knew that, believed that, and conducted his entire Senate career toward that end. Serving the people. He was a true statesman. A giant in the Senate.”

I stared at Senator Russell, conviction shining from his eyes, and was captivated despite myself. Captured by his obvious sincerity and optimism. Russell had gone straight for my Achilles' heel.
Idealism
. Call it a residue of the Sixties, whatever, it never really left, no matter how many curve balls life threw my way.

I decided to see if I could throw him, just for the hell of it. “You are one sly fox, Senator. If you read that notorious file of mine, you knew that I was a sucker for idealism.”

Brewster stifled a laugh, but Russell didn't even bother to hide his reaction. He burst out laughing, a huge basso roar that bounced off the walls. Sort of like Falstaff without the fat. “Can you blame me, Molly? Peter and I have been scheming how we could get you on our team ever since we learned you were available.”

“Senator, I appreciate the flattery, but I'm simply a managerial and financial accountant.”

“This modesty doesn't serve you, Molly. Your financial skills are valuable, yes, but you've got other skills too, which would be quite helpful for an incoming senator, new to Washington and its wily ways.” Russell took my arm, escorting me down the hallway, but not toward the front door. He headed toward the living room, which opened to a formal dining room. “I've started entertaining; nothing extravagant yet. Mostly receptions to let the politicians see that I'm not a lunatic or a wild-eyed revolutionary, despite what some of my opponents said in the election.” He paused in the archway of the dining room. A gleaming, crystal bowl filled with daffodils and crocuses sat in the midst of the polished mahogany table.

“What I really want to do is arrange small, intimate dinners with various senators and their spouses. Strategic entertaining, I call it. That way I can get a feel for the men and women I'm working with. See where their real passions lie, away from the television cameras.”

Intrigued once again, I studied Russell. “Shrewd move, Senator. Get a feel for the players. I'd recommend it highly, considering your position as the swing vote.”

Russell gave me a cagey grin. “I figured you'd approve, considering that's precisely what your father excelled in. ‘Getting a read on the players,' he called it, right?”

I returned his smile. “Right you are, Senator. And I can tell where your mind is going. You think that I can somehow channel my father's brilliance in that respect. All apologies to my beloved father's memory, but I cannot recreate his magic.”

Russell steered me away from the dining room and down the hallway once more. Toward the door this time.
Thank heavens.
I didn't think I could take anymore of this intense courtship.

“I'm forced to disagree with you, Molly. I think you inherited it,” Russell said as he led me to the open doorway, Luisa standing beside. “If I'm not mistaken, you performed the same sort of magic during your husband's congressional years. Governor Lambert said the same thing. And you did it for Senator Hartman as well.”

I eyed Russell. “Totally different scenarios, Senator. I haven't been in Washington for over twenty years. Any fairy dust I might have possessed years ago has dried up and blown away.”

He chuckled. “I'd still appreciate any insights you might have—suggestions, whatever.”

“Senator, to be honest, I'm not even sure I want this position. I've told Peter that. So, if it's magic you want, you need to start looking for another Tinkerbell. I've turned in my wings.”

Russell threw back his head and let loose with another infectious belly laugh. Peter joined in this time as I stepped over the threshold and made my getaway at last.

Three

My mother and her
new companion Patricia waved goodbye while I hurried from the stately retirement home and escaped into the parking lot. Visiting with my mom and talking politics had taken the entire afternoon. When I'd told her my new job with Senator Russell would be as an accountant with no political involvement, her reply was succinct:

“Nonsense, dear. You're in Washington, remember? That would be like going to France and not drinking the wine.”

I had to smile. When it came to politics, my mother was still sharp as a tack, recalling names and dates and behind-the-scenes maneuvering from long ago. But ask her if she had taken her morning medications … well, that was another thing. The question was met with a blank expression, then a worried frown while she tried to remember. Strange thing, memory loss.

Noticing the sun's downward angle, I checked my watch and decided to call Brewster while I drove back to Nan's house. Tell him I was accepting the position. I'd weighed the job offer over and over as I rode the Metro back to the Park-n-Ride where Karen had picked me up this morning. Now that I'd visited my mother and seen Patricia in action, I was certain of my decision. The logic was inescapable.

Patricia O'Toole was perfect. Competent and caring. My mom needed her, and the only way I could pay Patricia's salary would be to accept Senator Russell's job offer. I had no choice. Both Russell and Brewster were willing to throw money at me. Okay, then. I was in.

I slipped into the sporty Acura Nan loaned me and revved the engine, listening to its throaty purr as I flipped open my cell phone and punched in Brewster's number. He answered as I headed toward Chain Bridge Road, going west to Vienna.

“Peter, it's Molly,” I said, noticing the rush hour buildup in traffic. “I thought I'd call and let you know that I'm accepting your offer. Yours and the senator's, that is.”

“That's great!” Brewster crowed over the phone. “Molly, I cannot tell you how pleased we are you'll be joining us. I can't wait to tell the senator … oh, here he is now.”

“Peter, wait! I don't need to talk—” Too late. I could already hear Brewster informing Russell, as well as the senator's enthusiastic response.

Then Russell's voice boomed into my ear. “Molly! This is fantastic news! You'll have to come over right away, so we can celebrate. I'm having a reception tonight, and it would be a perfect time to announce that you're joining our staff.”

What
? Was he kidding? I was halfway to Vienna, heading west, miles and miles of cars behind me. Traffic was God-awful. “Senator, that's not necessary. Besides, I'm way out here in Virginia, almost to Vienna—”

“I insist. It's an ideal time for you to take a look at our entertaining.”

He was serious.
Oh, my God
. “Senator, traffic is horrible. It would take me forever to get back into Georgetown through rush hour right now,” I said, hoping to change his mind.

“That's no problem at all. Albert will come right out. Why don't you park at the nearest shopping center and Albert will pick you up. No need for you to endure this wretched traffic.”

“What? Senator, that's … that's too much of an inconvenience,” I countered, still trying to weasel out of it.

“Nonsense, Molly. Albert considers this traffic a challenge.” His voice turned from the phone. “Luisa, could you please tell Albert he needs to fetch Molly from Virginia.”

No!
No!
No!
The last thing I wanted was to be thrown into a room full of politicians tonight. It was too soon. Besides, I was trying to fly beneath the radar, and Russell was thwarting me at every turn. “Senator, no, please, I'm … I'm not dressed for a reception. I'm still in my funereal black suit.”

Russell chuckled. “And a lovely suit it is, Molly. You'll be radiant, I'm sure.”

My God, this man had more blarney in him than my late uncle Jack. He had to be Irish. I started to sweat. Great for the lovely black suit. “Senator …” I wiggled again. “I appreciate your generosity and your flattery, but … but I promised my friends I'd join them for dinner.” Maybe obligation would get him.

Russell shot that down as well. “They'll understand, Molly. I'm sure they will. Now, I'm putting Albert on the phone. We'll see you soon.”

Damn
. He'd out-talked me again. Russell was as good as I was at getting around people. He was going to be a challenge to work for. Sort of like working for myself. That was scary.

“Ms. Malone? Where are you now?” Albert's voice came on the phone. “Where would be the closest and safest shopping area to park your car?”

“Uhhhhh, let me think,” I struggled, running the major shopping centers through my mind as I maneuvered into the left lane.

Tysons Corner was down the road, but that was a traffic nightmare in the best of times. Where else? Remembering a drug store at a busy intersection I'd passed earlier in the day, I nosed the Acura into the left turn lane and waited for a break in traffic, praying I could execute a U-turn without causing an accident.

“Okay, Albert, how about the intersection of Old Dominion and Glebe Road? There's a drugstore there. I'll park in the back.”

“I'm on my way,” Albert said, in the tone of a man on a mission. “I've got your cell number. See you soon, Ms. Malone.”

“Right,” I said before tossing the phone into the next seat. I needed both hands for this turn. I whipped the Acura around the tight corner and roared off in the opposite direction, ignoring the sound of honking horns.

_____

His cell phone vibrated. The familiar number flashed on the screen.

“We may need you this weekend,” a man's scratchy voice said.

“Good thing you called. I was about to head for the Bay tomorrow.”

“If affirmative, we'll text you a keycode for data files.”

“Location?”

“Georgetown.”

“Again? Who pissed off those guys this time?”

“No one you'd know. Just a congressional staffer who's gotten way too curious for her own good. Looking into things she shouldn't and asking questions. That makes those guys real nervous. Problem is, she's connected. Her father was that congressman from Colorado, Eric Grayson. You remember him, don't you?”

“Of course.”

“They're worried her father might have told her something before he died. So, when Grayson's daughter starts asking questions, they don't like it.”

“Well, you know the old saying. ‘Curiosity killed the cat.'” He laughed softly.

“We'll be in touch.” Then the line went dead.

No sense of humor, that one, he thought as he pocketed his phone.

_____

Albert pulled off Wisconsin Avenue and headed down Q Street, deftly weaving around double-parked cars, before pulling into the gated driveway. At his touch to the visor, the black wrought iron gate swung open, and we drove into the garage area behind the house.

Outdoor lights and lanterns threw bright arcs over the tall brick walls. Light pierced the fast-approaching twilight and I felt my heart beat faster. Albert opened the car door, and the sound of muffled conversation rolled over me like a wave on the beach. My pulse began to race. Nerve cells snapped awake. Old habits were hard to break.

I caught myself.
What the hell was I doing?
I'd barely been in Washington thirty-six hours, and I was sucked in already. How'd that happen?

“We'll slip in the side door, Ms. Malone,” Albert said, as he helped me from the car.

“Please call me Molly,” I said, as he guided me away from the enclosed rear garden and around the corner of the residence. Luisa was standing at a back door, smiling as she took my purse.

I glimpsed the catering staff bustling about in a brightly lit kitchen as Albert ushered me down a back hallway. There was a delicious aroma floating in the air, and I made a mental note to ask Brewster who the senator used as caterers. I might as well provide counter-intelligence for Nan and Deb while there.

“Here, you go, Molly.” Albert ushered me through a door that led off another passageway. “Peter is keeping an eye out for you. Enjoy yourself.” He gave a friendly smile as he closed the door behind me.

I noticed the closed door disappear into the molding.
Well, I'll be damned.
A secret door, I thought, as I stood in the senator's elegant foyer. I walked slowly down the hallway until I reached the expansive living room. There, I hovered on the edge and watched. The room wasn't crowded because almost everyone was enjoying the gorgeous spring weather outside.

Sometimes Washington would be blessed with a springtime for the Gods. Mild temperatures, low humidity, and flowers bursting into bloom everywhere you looked. It never stayed long, but it was glorious while it lasted.

I could see men and women outside in the garden, laughing and talking and drinking and talking and flirting and talking. Old instincts urged me to join them, but I stayed put. Sober-and-Righteous was still on the job.
No mingling
.
Not yet
.
Too soon
. I turned my attention to the staff that was serving the crowd, wondering if they were part of the caterer's crew.

A short, gray-haired woman with an old-fashioned Dutch Boy haircut moved efficiently around the room, offering glasses of wine. A young man, college-aged, I guessed, wove through the crowd as well, offering appetizers. I searched for more staff and spotted the bartender in the corner of the room. I edged closer, and noticed he appeared to be middle-aged and worked with smooth efficiency as he prepared drinks.

Suddenly a low alto voice sounded at my elbow. “Would you care for some wine, ma'am?” Dutch asked.

I declined. “No, thanks, I'm fine.”

“You'll look less conspicuous with some wine,” she said, her gray eyes smiling at me as she offered a glass.

This time, I took it. “Thank you,” I said as she backed away. There was something strangely familiar about Dutch. Maybe she'd worked my parents' parties. Or Dave's and mine.

Edging around the room again, I sipped the Chardonnay. It was surprisingly good, and I decided I needed to see Russell's entertaining expenses. The sooner the better. Nan and Deb could tell me where to get the best prices on …

The accountant in me stopped analyzing as I spotted someone else in the crowd, edging around the room as I was. A tall middle-aged African-American man with a graying buzz cut, wearing a dark suit.
Security
. Had to be. Former military, no doubt. Retired military were thick as fleas in the Washington area. Thicker even than consultants, if that can be believed. In fact, most of the retired brass
were
consultants. Those salaries were too tempting to pass up.

The blond college boy paused at my elbow, offering an appetizer. I took one, the better to absorb the wine. I hadn't eaten since lunchtime. He gave me an engaging grin before weaving through the guests again. I inhaled the small quiche and washed it down with Chardonnay.

A voice sounded behind me then; a voice from the past. “As I live and breathe. Molly Malone,” the rich contralto flowed smooth as honey. “I'd given up hope of ever seeing you again.”

“Eleanor MacKenzie,” I said as I turned to see my elderly mentor and political confidante smiling at me. Still as tall and imposing as I remembered, silver hair coiffed in an upswept French twist, and attired in her signature peach silk. Designer peach silk, if I remembered correctly. Eleanor always wore couture. “Thank God you're still in town, Eleanor. Maybe I'll survive this homecoming after all.”

“Molly, my girl, the sight of you truly makes my heart sing,” Eleanor said as she drew closer. Her step was as lively as I remembered, even though she must be over eighty by now. She reached out to take my free hand, capturing it between hers. “I never thought we'd see you on this side of the Potomac again. I'd heard you visited your family in Virginia and that's all. Ignoring our cozy little nest of vipers in Foggy Bottom.”

I laughed softly. Eleanor's wry sense of humor was still intact. “Well, I never thought I'd be here either, Eleanor, but my mother's declining health forced me to return.”

“I'm so sorry, Molly,” Eleanor said, her face radiating concern. “How is Ginny doing? Has she taken a fall or something?”

“No, no, not yet, thank God. She's simply having trouble remembering things. Things like medicines, doctors' appointments, how to balance her checkbook, and more or less anything I tell her on the phone. It simply goes in one ear and drops onto the floor. It doesn't even get to the processing center.”

Eleanor released my hand, the concern deepening in her sapphire blue eyes. “Oh, my, I'm so sorry to hear that. Have you moved Ginny to an assisted living facility? I'd heard she's been living at the Kensington ever since your father died.”

“She's still there,” I said with an ill-concealed sigh. “It would break her heart to move, Eleanor. All her friends are there, and I just couldn't do it. So I hired a companion for her. A wonderful Irish lass who's supervising the situation.”

“Oh, dear, I've heard they're frightfully expensive.”

“You heard correctly,” I said with a rueful smile. “In fact, that's why I'm here. I've sold my soul to pay for it all. Senator Russell has offered me a position on his staff. As an accountant.”

Eleanor's eyes lit up. “An accountant? Of course, dear, whatever you say.” She laughed deep in her chest. “That's quite a coup for Russell then. Ah, Molly, I cannot tell you how much I've missed talking with you, my girl. You'll have to fill me in on all the particulars in private. But right now, my friends and I are heading home for the evening.” With that, she turned to address the couple approaching. “Alan, Brenda, look who I found in that wily senator's employ. Molly, you remember Alan and Brenda Baker, don't you?”