When Love Calls (23 page)

“What?” Her heart dropped. The first person she thought of was Randolph. Not that she even remotely considered the possibility of wrongdoing on his part, but she knew that the ripple effect on him would be major.

“Senator Goode?” she surmised.

Nina nodded. “Apparently there was a major uproar in the Gallery during a closed session last night. The news is sketchy and none of this has been broadcast yet, but I heard Pete mention conflict of interest, misappropriation of funds, bribery and undue influence and someone said that in an unprecedented response, Goode resigned, immediately effective last night.”

“Are you kidding me?” Alyssa asked rhetorically.

“That’s not all. It looks like he completely falsified his federal financial disclosure documents and now, to get leniency, he’s gonna bring folks down with him like clerks, chiefs of staff, pages, parliamentarians, lobbyists and even congressmen and other senators.”

“That’s incredible,” she said, stunned by the shocking news.

“I heard that Pete might be closing up shop early today so that he and Ursula can attend a meeting at the foundation’s main office and hopefully limit whatever fallout comes our way.”

Alyssa nodded slowly as she sat down at her desk. She turned on her computer as she always did and checked her daily schedule. Her afternoon was already clear. She sat considering what Nina had told her.

Since Senator Goode was chairman of the Special Committee for the Aging and also a member of the Appropriations Committee, his absence on both committees this late in the session would significantly and drastically affect the foundation’s standing, plus the fact that Senator Goode was Ursula’s main contact in the Senate. They frequently ate brunch on the Hill and she was supposedly very close to his wife and family.

Alyssa turned to look at Pete’s office door. Usually open, it was closed this morning. Apparently he and Ursula and several other high-level members of the foundation were locked in meetings all morning and the rest of the staff were basically on hold, awaiting further developments.

After taking care of a few loose ends from the day before and checking out a few news reports, Alyssa finally got a chance to call Louise, and apparently, everything had already been planned. Just as her grandmother told her, Raymond and Hope were going to the island for the weekend and Allie was invited to tag along. The fact that both Raymond and Hope were doctors added to her relief. Since Louise knew about Allie’s condition, Raymond and Hope were the perfect pair to escort her.

Everything seemed to fall in place. Now all she needed to do was contact Randolph and get herself invited to San Francisco again. That was her second call.

“Good morning, Senator Randolph Kingsley’s office. Kent Larson speaking. How may I assist you, Ms. Wingate?”

So much for anonymity or the ever-popular “if the wrong person answers, hang up” exit strategy. “Yes, Mr. Larson, I’d like to speak with the senator, please.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Wingate, Senator Kingsley is unavailable at the moment. May I take a message?”

“No, thank you.” She paused, then changed her mind. “No, wait. Yes, please. I realize that there’s a lot happening on the Hill today and that he’s extremely busy, but if you can just have him return my call, I’d appreciate it.”

“The senator will be unavailable for some time. If you could be more specific.”

“Okay, sure. Would you please tell the senator that I’ve changed my mind about going to San Francisco with him this weekend? I’d very much like to go.”

“I’m very sorry, Ms. Wingate, but the senator left late last night.”

“Oh, I see. Thank you,” she said, knowing that the disheartened sound in her voice was evident even over the cell phone.

“Ms. Wingate, will you be at this number for the next half hour?”

“Yes.”

“May I call you back?”

“Sure, yes. Thank you.”

After she hung up, she sat staring across the office. It was just before ten o’clock and her mind definitely wasn’t on work today. Her one meeting this morning had been canceled and it looked as if the office was getting ready to close for the day.

Moments later, Pete stepped out of his office and announced that the office would be closed until Monday morning. He tried to spin the decision to ease the obvious concerns, but the truth was he was too concerned himself.

Alyssa went straight home. As soon as she walked in the door, her cell phone rang. “Hello,” she answered, removing the key from the door lock.

“Good morning, Ms. Wingate, this is Kent Larson. How soon can you get packed and ready to leave?”

Her heart thundered. “How soon do you need me packed and ready to leave?”

“I have a flight leaving D.C. in two hours and eighteen minutes. I can have a car pick you up at your house in one hour.”

“I’m already home, pulling out a suitcase. I can be ready in forty-five minutes.”

“Excellent, your tickets are at the counter, just insert any credit card,” Kent said. “Arrangements have already been made on the other side. If you’ll give me your e-mail address, I’ll send you all the information.”

“Kent, thank you for everything.”

“My pleasure, enjoy your weekend.”

A six-hour flight across the country and a half-hour drive in a comfortable sedan later put Alyssa in front of a Spanish-style whitewashed villa in the first of the bright evening sunlight. After the car drove off, she looked up at the impressive house in front of her. It was far grander than her first impression. The open courtyard had a lovely waterfall and pond as its centerpiece and ivy crawling up the front of the two-story house that looked more like a centuries-old monastery than a private home. She half expected a monk to greet her at the door.

With her bags beside her, Alyssa rang the doorbell and waited nervously. She’d been running on sheer adrenaline since she called Randolph’s number and spoke to Kent earlier that morning. She still couldn’t believe that this morning she was sitting at her desk and now she was actually on the other side of the country.

It wasn’t until she’d already gotten on the plane that she began having second thoughts as the what-ifs were back. What if this was actually a business trip and she was intruding? What if she got it all wrong and he was trying to keep a low profile? What if he didn’t actually expect her to show up at his front door? What if he was already involved with someone here in San Francisco? After all, he didn’t exactly reinvite her to go, did he? What if she was the only one who was falling in love? What if…

She took a few steps back, distancing herself from the front door. Suddenly the common sense she always prided herself on had returned and all the hoping and wishing in the world wasn’t going to change anything. What was she doing here? She turned to the driveway to see that the car Kent had gotten for her was now long gone.

The door opened. She turned. A small African-American woman stood there frowning sternly. The woman’s expression, the exact opposite of everyone she’d met since the plane touched down, took her off guard.

“Yes, may I help you?” the woman asked firmly.

“Umm, yes, I’m looking for Senator Randolph Kingsley.”

“He doesn’t do unscheduled interviews and you’ll have to schedule that through his chief of staff.”

“Yes, I know. What I mean is, that isn’t a request for an interview. I’m a friend of the senator’s from Washington, D.C.”

“I see,” she said with enough sarcasm in her voice to choke a horse. “How nice for you. Have a good evening.” She nodded curtly, then attempted to close the door.

“No, wait, really, I am. My name is Alyssa Wingate and Kent told me that he would call and let you know that I was coming.”

She opened the door slightly and looked at Alyssa, still skeptical. “I’ve been out most of the day. Kent might have left a message. I’ll check, please wait here,” she said slowly, then still closed the door in Alyssa’s face.

Alyssa stood there with her mouth open a few seconds before the shock of the heavy wooden door closed in her face dawned on her. After a deep breath, she stepped back and turned around to face the driveway again. Slate bricks laid out in a circular design led right to the front porch. Beyond that was a gravel-covered road that led out to the meet the main road. She stepped down from the porch and walked to the center near the fountain and peered in.

Crystal-clear sparkling water poured from a vase held jointly by two intertwined marble figures. The water splashed, then pooled in a shell-like design that had colorful faux fish painted inside. At first glance it seemed that the fish were real, since the design looked down on top of them. It was very different. She’d never seen anything so beautiful.

Getting slightly impatient, she turned back to the house. It was definitely smaller than she had expected, much smaller than the house in D.C. This house was Spanish-style with bleached cream-colored, claylike slate shingles on the roof and what looked like large white stones covered with stucco for the outside walls.

There was a covered front porch that was just one step up from ground level and was surrounded by a heavily adorned iron rail, and there were large stained-glass windows framed by antique shutters. Everything looked old and weathered, even the people, particularly the woman who had answered the door. She turned around to see if the door was still closed. It was. Then she smiled guiltily as if the woman overheard her thoughts.

The door opened again, this time wider. The older woman stepped out onto the porch. “Ms. Wingate,” she said. Alyssa turned and walked back toward the front door. “My name is Mrs. Andrews. Please come in,” she said. Alyssa reached down to get her bags. “You may leave them there. They’ll be taken directly to your room.”

“Thank you,” Alyssa said, then walked inside.

“Please forgive my tartness, but we’ve been inundated with reporters all day long. They’re crafty little buggers with the most outrageous stories you’ve ever heard. One came by earlier dressed like a rescue worker and said that the senator called and requested his services.”

“You’re right, they are cunning.”

“I presumed you were a reporter trying to get a story. I spoke to Kent and he assured me that you were okay. He apparently called earlier and left a message when I was away from the house.”

“I understand completely. Is the Senator in?”

“No, the senator stepped out earlier. He should be back soon. May I offer you something to eat or drink?”

“No, thank you, I’ll just wait here.”

“Might I suggest you sit out on the terrace? There’s a cool breeze and the western view of the vineyard is quite breathtaking this time of day.”

“Thank you.”

“Just down the hall and to the left,” Mrs. Andrews said, then turned and headed in the opposite direction.

Alyssa followed her instructions and opened the sliding glass door and stepped out into what looked like paradise. The house was built on a hill overlooking a dramatic setting below. She walked to the rail and looked down. The house was actually three stories high with a walkout just at ground level. From there she saw a small serviceable yard with a grill, a lap pool and a connecting sauna. Immediately beyond that was a narrow path that led to a road that appeared to lead toward the vineyard.

She looked across at the endless rows of neatly lined grapevines. The sun was still pretty high in the sky, giving the lush landscape a reddish golden hue, lighting the groves of vines in a dramatic fiery flare.

“I brought you something cool and refreshing to welcome you to Kingsley Vineyard,” Mrs. Andrews said as she placed a wine bottle and two glasses on the side table. She pulled the cork from the bottle, then poured a rose-colored liquid into one of the glasses and handed it to her.

“Thank you, Mrs. Andrews. You were right, the view is breathtaking.”

“Yes, it is,” she said, sparing a quick glance around. “Now then, I’ll be leaving in a few minutes. The senator should be back shortly. He asked for something light and simple for dinner this evening, but I prepared a full meal as usual. There’s plenty for two. You’ll find it in the warming oven. It’ll keep for a good while.”

“Okay, shall I go in and—”

“Oh, no, don’t bother yourself. Stay out here and enjoy the evening breeze. Your bags are in the guest room. Just go upstairs, make a left, second door on the right. My phone number is on the board in the kitchen should you need me. I’m right down the road, just call.”

Alyssa nodded. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. Thank you, Mrs. Andrews.”

“I’ll close and lock the gate after I leave so you should have no trouble with reporters.”

“Thanks again. Have a good night,” Alyssa said.

“I certainly will,” Mrs. Andrews said, then turned and left, closing the glass door behind her.

Alyssa turned back to the view, sighing restfully. She sipped the lightly tart beverage and enjoyed the view. Fifteen minutes later, she topped off her glass of wine, then went inside to look for the guest room. She went up to the second floor, turned left and opened the second door on the right. Her bags were there sitting against the wall.

With thoughts of unpacking, she grabbed the first one, feeling instantly that it was empty. She tried the second. It was empty, too. She went over to the closet and found her clothes neatly hanging and the rest already in drawers. She went into the bathroom and found her toiletry bag unopened and sitting on the counter.

Since her things had already been unpacked, she decided to freshen up and change for the evening. Half an hour later, she grabbed her glass and went back downstairs revived and refreshed. Instead of going back out onto the terrace, she found her way to the kitchen, led there by the heavenly aroma wafting through the house.

She peeked into the warming oven and found several large salmon steaks covered with a smooth lemon-and-caper sauce nestled beside brown rice and asparagus, gently warming. The meal looked fantastic as she realized that she’d actually been hungry since morning.

“Mrs. Andrews, I’m back,” she heard Randolph call out just after the front door closed. She smiled, keeping her back to the kitchen door, intending to surprise him.