Poisoned Politics (14 page)

Not so fast!
Sober-and-Righteous cautioned.
There's no need to attach more importance to this relationship than it warrants. It's merely a primal mating ritual. Hormones, glands, what-have-you.

Don't be ridiculous. You know it's more than that. Just text the man that you love him. How hard is that?

Hold on! Do not confuse sexual attraction with love.

You've got to be kidding,
Crazy Ass countered.
Pick up the phone and send him a text. The weekend is fast approaching.

Sober mumbled something incoherent, so I stared at the card as it sat there, accusing me. Waiting for me to answer.
Return Danny's serve. Pick up the gauntlet.

What is it with these sports metaphors?

I ignored Crazy Ass, and picked up my phone. Finding Danny's name in the directory, I keyed in a simple text. “The flowers are beautiful. I love them. Thank you so much.” I hesitated over the send button, then pressed it.

Steady on,
Sober decreed, obviously pleased with my cowardly decision, while Crazy Ass made all sorts of clucking chicken noises. I tried to ignore them both by turning my attention to a copy of the
D.C. Dirt
in the middle of my desk. Casey had drawn an arrow to a
short paragraph above the fold in the “Whispers and Rumors” section.

Sources close to the
Dirt
have let us know that photographs taken of recently departed Congressman Quentin Wilson and his paramour have surfaced. Apparently, these photos show the congressman and his lover
in flagrante delicto
. The
Dirt
cannot help but wonder: who would take such photos? Was someone blackmailing Congressman Wilson? Was that why he took an overdose of sleeping pills and painkillers? The
Dirt
wants to know.

I stared at the paragraph.
Oh, no. Not the photos
. I grabbed for my phone again and punched in Samantha's number. She answered on the third ring.

“Hello, Molly, I take it you've read the morning sleaze rag.”

“Good Lord, Samantha, I'm so sorry. How in the world did they learn about the photos? It had to be a leak at the police department, don't you think?”

“I haven't a clue,” she said, her voice sounding tired. “But my lawyer has already delivered a letter advising that rag we will sue them up one side and down the other if they print that trash.”

“Do you think that will work?”

She let out a long sigh. “I have no idea. But it's the only thing we can do at this point. Threaten to sue the bejeezus out of them.”

“I'm so sorry, Samantha.” I vainly searched for something else to say and remembered my morning run. “Let's change the subject. I took my morning run by the C&O Canal and saw Natasha Jorgensen so we ran together for a while. She confirmed that the guy in Texas was her staffer friend, Gary Levitz.”

“You and I figured as much. Listen, Molly
…
I've done a lot of thinking this morning, and I'd like you to call Eleanor and tell her that I gratefully accept her offer of shelter from the storm. I thought the clouds were lifting, but after this news, I can tell that a tempest is brewing. I welcome Eleanor's kind offer. Joining the convent, so to speak.”

I heard a hint of Samantha's old self surfacing. “You'll survive. Meanwhile, any innuendo the
Dirt
throws your way won't stick. You'll be out there doing good deeds. What is it the nuns used to say
…
doing charitable work?”

“Good Lord, don't remind me. This may kill me, you know.”

“Celibacy never killed anyone, Samantha.”

“Spoken by a woman who's about to spend the entire weekend
in flagrante delicto
,” she drawled the words. “Mad, wild sex.”

Oh, yeah!
Crazy Ass cheered. Sober simply scowled.

I just laughed. “By the way, thanks for the lingerie. The shop delivered the box yesterday. Gorgeous, simply gorgeous. Almost as pretty as the flowers Danny sent this morning.”

“Ohhhhh, good. He sent flowers. Smart man.”

I hesitated, then said, “And a card saying ‘Thinking of you.
Love
, Danny.'”

Samantha paused for a moment. “Tell me you replied in kind, Molly. Or I'm gonna come over there and smack you.”

That made me laugh. “Yes, yes, I did
…
I thanked him for the flowers.”

“And?”

“And that was it. I chickened out with the L word.”

“Molleeeee
…
what am I gonna do with you? You know you love him and he loves you. Now stop acting like a jackass!”

“Why can't we just have sex? Why do we have to talk about love? Isn't there a song about that? What's love got—”

“God, Molly, you're impossible, you know that?”

“I can't help it. It's my nature,” I deliberately teased, hoping my lighter tone would deflect her aim.

Not in the least. “You're just afraid of commitment, Molly. Committing yourself.”

That shook me.
What the hell?
“I am not! Don't be ridiculous! I was married twice. I loved Dave and
…
”

“You loved Dave and were
committed
to helping his career. Helping him become the man you saw inside him. And then he died before he could live up to your expectations. And, Frank, hell, I saw the two of you together. You were old friends from the Denver political arena. You two made a good team. You were
committed
to working together. But admit it, Molly. You didn't love Frank.”

Whoa
…
Samantha's aim was as true as ever. Right straight to the bull's-eye.

“You know I'm right. But Danny is something else again. This man moves you. I can see it. You admitted it a couple of weeks ago. You said he reached something inside you. And that was scary. Because this time, you'd be committing
yourself
.”

I considered what she'd said for a long minute. “You're right. It does scare me.”

“Look, I understand because it's happened to me. I didn't want to admit how much Quentin had gotten to me. The real me. I loved him. That's why all this hurts so much. But you and Danny have each other right now. We don't get that many chances in life. Don't let this slip away. You'll regret it. Trust me.”

Samantha's words resonated. She was right, as always. “I promise. I won't let it slip away, Miss Thing. Thanks for the advice. And the sexy lingerie.”

“Anytime, sugar,” she lapsed into her old drawl. “It'll be easier for me to take the vows under Mother Superior MacKenzie if I know you and Danny are enjoying each other. At least one of us will be having fun.”

I laughed out loud, the image of Samantha in a habit traipsing after Eleanor. “We'll do our best.” The sound of my cell beeping caught my attention. “Uh, oh. There's a text. I bet it's Danny.”

“Well, hang up and answer it, sugar. Stop wasting time. Talk to you later.” She clicked off.

Sure enough, the blinking green light on my phone indicated a text waiting. From Danny. Like the first message, it was short.

“Glad you liked the flowers. How about the note?”

Damn!
That man was positively spooky. I paused over the keypad then entered the words: “Love you too.” Then hit Send.

I picked up my coffee and drained the mug, then turned on my computer. Work was waiting. I was about to go for a coffee refill before I settled into the financial accounts when I heard the telltale beep from my phone. I stared at the blinking green light, then pushed it. Another message from Danny.

“See? That wasn't so hard. It'll get easier. I promise.”

This time I laughed out loud. Reading my mind or not, I had to love a man like that. And this time, I meant it.

_____

Raymond signaled the waitress for more coffee as the man he was waiting for slipped into the seat across from him in the booth. The sports bar was only halfway full at mid-afternoon. A major league baseball game was playing on the large screen over the bar. New York versus Baltimore. The Yankees were ahead.

“Coffee, sir?” the waitress asked the sandy-haired man.

The man smiled warmly at the woman. “No, thank you, ma'am. I'll take a Sam Adams instead.”

Raymond loved to watch him work that charm, that warm and folksy manner. No wonder he was always able to get close to every
target. He was the guy next door. Wide face, easy smile, relaxed, laid-
back manner. The guy at the bar that you'd joke with, share a beer with, and watch the football game on the television above. A woman wouldn't hesitate asking this guy for help if her car broke down. No hesitation whatsoever, unless
…
she looked into his eyes. Ice blue. Even on a hot, humid August afternoon.

Raymond wiped his no-longer-white handkerchief across his forehead and took a sip of the steaming black coffee. The man facing him smiled, just a little.

“You know, you wouldn't sweat so much if you didn't drink that stuff,” he said, pointing to the coffee cup. “It's August, in case you hadn't noticed.”

“Helps when I'm inside and can't smoke,” Raymond admitted and picked up one of the paper-wrapped lozenges lying on the table. “Along with these.”

Something that could have passed for concern flickered briefly across the man's wide face, then was gone. “You should have that looked at. Sounds worse.”

Raymond shrugged. He already knew it was. Instead, he lied. “I did. It's about the same. So, what's so important you wanted to see me? The Texas job went smooth as silk. You didn't drive all the way out here to Fairfax to have a beer. What's up?”

“I copied the kid's cell phone logs before I left the motel room. Once I got to my computer I downloaded the numbers he called after he left D.C. A couple of calls to Fillmore's decoy phone, one call to his parents, his call to my decoy phone, and one call to a D.C. number. That was the longest call, and it was the night he arrived in Houston. I ran a check and the number belongs to Natasha Jorgensen, who used to be Quentin Wilson's chief of staff.”

Raymond looked up over his coffee.
Damn!
He hadn't expected that. “What the hell? Why'd he call her? Is she still over in Wilson's office, working for his wife?”

The man shook his head. “Nope. She ran for the exit like most of that staff. Jorgensen now works as a regular staffer for Congresswoman Sally Chertoff. Like you, I was curious about their connection, so I ran a check on Jorgensen. Seems she and Levitz went to the University of Minnesota together. Were friends with benefits. In fact, she helped him land a job in D.C. after she started working on the Hill eight years ago.”

Raymond scowled. “
Dammit!
Now, I'm wondering what Levitz told her that night. Fillmore warned him not to talk with anyone. Told him he had to make a clean break. No contacts. Stupid kid!” He popped another lozenge into his mouth.

“I wondered about that too. So I took the liberty of starting surveillance on Jorgensen. Started yesterday after she left the Hill. I wanted to let you know now, so you could check with the higher-ups. See how they want to move forward.”

“Smart move, Trask. I'll check with Spencer, but I'm sure he'll want her home computer checked. Meanwhile, stay on her. See who she talks to.”

“Roger that.” Trask reached inside his shirt pocket and pulled out a key-ring-sized computer storage device. “Meanwhile, you might want to take a look at this. I followed Jorgensen on her early morning run. I was camped out in front of her apartment on Virginia Avenue, so I wouldn't miss her leaving for the Hill. Instead, she ran out of the building at five in the morning and headed for the C&O Canal to run along the towpath.”

“Bloody early if you ask me,” Raymond said, then took a deep drink of coffee. The hot liquid felt good on his throat. He popped another lozenge into his mouth.

“She started running alone then a woman joined her. I followed a safe distance behind. They ran together quite awhile, past the bridge, then turned around and came back. The other woman took off for M Street, but I got a good look at her when I ran past them.” He paused.

Raymond took another sip, then looked over his cup at his colleague. “And? Did you recognize her?”

Trask gave a small smile. “Oh, yeah. It's that Malone woman. The one Spencer said to check on last spring for a couple of weeks. We never picked up anything unusual, so Spencer told us to stop. No need to bother with her anymore.”

Raymond stared into the ice blue eyes looking into his. “
Dammit to hell
,” he said softly. “Not good. Not good at all.”

“I figured that would get your attention
…
and Spencer's. Naturally, I ran a check on Malone to see what connection there was with Jorgensen. Didn't find any. But I did find a ton of stuff connecting Malone with Wilson's girlfriend, Samantha Calhoun. Seems she and Malone knew each other as teenagers when their fathers were both U.S. Senators here in D.C. There's lots of stuff here. You'll enjoy it.” He handed the flash drive to Raymond.

“
Son of a bitch
,” Raymond muttered, shaking his head. “I had a feeling about that Malone woman last spring. I don't like loose ends. And just when we had everything all tied up with Wilson, nice and neat.
Damn
.”