Smoke and Mirrors (30 page)

BOOK: Smoke and Mirrors
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Birth and death? Juxtaposed pairs of dates almost demanded that interpretation, but the more Erin studied the figures, the less she liked it. If it was correct, the three people who had died were children; the youngest had been less than a year old. And surely three children wouldn't die on the same date of natural causes. Had they been members of the same family? No last names had
been supplied. There had been two survivors; a boy, the firstborn, and a younger girl.

As she had been instructed, Erin put the paper into the drawer and slammed it shut. Kay's assumption had been correct, she had not the slightest idea what the information might mean. If Kay was engaged in some underhanded attempt to discredit Senator Bennett, she was glad she didn't understand.

She had only time to exchange a few words with Nick before he was off again; he invited her to come along for the ride, an invitation she was forced to refuse. "There's too much to do, Nick. "

"Yeah, okay. I have to go to D.C. and I thought maybe ..."

She knew what he meant, but she didn't say it either; they were standing in the hall and there was too great a chance of being overheard. "I can't," she repeated, "Kay's not in the best of all possible moods these days, and if she came back and found me gone—"

"Okay, okay. But don't forget to ask her about Friday."

Kay returned a short time later. She had been gone for less than two hours, so obviously her appointment had not been in D.C. But of course she wouldn't risk driving that far, in heavy traffic, Erin thought idly.

To judge from Kay's expression, she had not enjoyed her outing. She darted a quick unsmiling glance at Erin, who was at her own desk, and hesitated for a moment, but went on without stopping. Erin half-rose and then sat down again. The situation was one Will would have considered self-explanatory; when Kay looked, she would find the notes of Mr. Brown's call, and would know why Erin had abandoned her post. She decided, however, that this might not be the best time to ask for a day off. She would wait until she could catch Kay in a better mood—if that eventuality ever occurred.

The opportunity did not arise until they stopped for supper, and before she had a chance to talk to Kay, the others began drifting in—Christie and Jan; Anita and Jackson; Joe, annoyed because Rosemary wasn't back from the Hill yet; and finally Rosemary herself, accompanied by Jeff and sputtering angrily over the defection of a colleague who had promised to support a bill she favored.

"Somebody got to him, " she exclaimed, tossing her bag onto the couch. "He won't tell me who, or what he was offered in exchange, but I swear—"

"Never mind all that stuff," Joe interrupted.

"Stuff? What do you mean, stuff? That stuff is what I was elected to do, Joe."

The arrival of Nick broke up the argument. Erin tried to catch his eye, but he took a seat next to Rosemary and became intent on what she was saying. Erin joined Jeff at the table. He offered her the glass he had just filled.

"Have some Madeira, m' dear? It's Chablis, actually."

Erin shook her head. "I thought you didn't drink."

"I didn't used to." Jeff raised the glass to his lips.

"Bad day?"

"No worse than usual."

"You look exhausted. Have you had anything to eat? I'll bet you skipped lunch again. Have some cheese. Supper is almost ready."

She put a chunk of Brie on a cracker and held it out to him. Jeff smiled, and he accepted the tidbit. "Have I mentioned lately that it's very nice having you here?"

"You can't say it too often to suit me," Erin said cheerfully.

"You could return the compliment."

"Haven't I?" She handed him another cracker and watched soberly while he ate it. "I guess I haven't. This has turned out to be a fantastic experience for me, Jeff; a growing time, in a lot of different ways. But it's been difficult at times. You've made it much easier than it might have been. So often when I've been depressed or resentful or beleaguered, it was you who came to the rescue. You've defended me, encouraged me, taught me—"

"Hey, wait, this is embarrassing." Jeff actually did look embarrassed; his eyes avoided hers. "You make me sound like some kind of saint."

"No, actually I sound like one of Rosemary's early speech drafts," Erin said, laughing. "The kind she edits because, as she says, it oozes with sloppy sentimentality. But I meant it, Jeff."

"Thanks."

"Thank you. Have another cracker."

He laughed and accepted the offering. They stood nibbling and sipping in silence, comfortable in one another's company.

Night had fallen; the windows framed a sprinkle of stars, and the breeze carried the scent of burning leaves. The atmosphere had mellowed. Nick and Joe talked quietly, Rosemary was laughing over something Will had said. . . . Will? He must have been there all along; Erin hadn't seen him come in. His chameleonlike talent of blending with the background would have been very useful to a spy or undercover agent. More likely, Erin thought charitably, it was simply the habit of a shy, reserved man.

The night was so still that the sound of gravel crunching under the wheels of a car carried distinctly to the two, who were standing near the window. Jeff turned to look.

"I wonder who that is."

"Kay said something about company for supper. '

"News to me," Jeff said. "Maybe she meant Christie and Jan; she treats the office workers like outsiders. . . . Oh, no."

How he had deduced the identity of the newcomer Erin did not know. Perhaps it was the distinctive sound of the car's engine, or just the pricking of his thumbs.

Laurence didn't knock or ring the bell, he simply walked in. He stopped in the doorway looking them over like an actor counting the house, or a predator picking his prey from a herd of grazing deer. His eyes were as cold and opaque as those of a lion studying a potential kill, and Erin wondered how she could ever have felt the faintest stir of empathy for him.

She expected Jeff would speak, if only to warn the others their conversation was being overheard, but he seemed to be struck dumb. Kay was the next to see Laurence.

"Why, Philips," she exclaimed. "I didn't expect to see you this evening. "

To Erin her surprise seemed exaggerated, but then so did the reactions of the others—Joe's unconcealed annoyance, Rosemary's forced civility. Laurence had that effect on people.

He greeted them with a casual flip of his hand and said coolly, "I knocked, but you were having such a jolly time you didn't hear. Please go on with what you were doing; I wanted to have a word
with Rosemary, but I'm in no hurry, and I would hate to disturb such a pleasant gathering."

"I was just leaving," Christie murmured.

"Me, too." Jan edged toward the door.

Erin tried to join the exodus, but Laurence exclaimed, "Don't run away, Erin, or you'll force me to believe you are trying to avoid me. Oh, hello, Will, I didn't see you. Still hiding behind a stack of books?"

Will smiled vaguely and adjusted his glasses. Laurence's vulturine eye moved on to the next victim. "Nick, dear boy! You made quite an impression the other night; Juliet is still raving about your charms. Joe, how are you? You look a bit the worse for wear, old chap, you really ought to get more exercise, you know. And those cheap cigars aren't good for you. I speak only out of concern for your health, old fellow. With the campaign at such a crucial stage it would be a pity to lose you."

Rosemary put a firm hand on Joe's arm. "Would you care for something to drink, Philips?"

"Thank you, a glass of wine would be nice. No, don't get up, Rosemary. I'll help myself; or perhaps Jeff ..."

He sauntered toward the table. Erin realized that this time he wasn't concentrating on her. If Jeff was aware of Laurence's speculative gaze he didn't show it; he poured the wine with a steady hand.

"Thank you." Laurence accepted the glass, his eyes never leaving Jeff's face. "I understand you celebrated your birthday recently, Jeff. I'm sorry I wasn't invited to the party, I'd like to have presented a small token of my esteem."

"It wasn't a formal affair," Jeff said quietly.

"No? I regret all the more having missed it then. I enjoy informal arrangements. And I love giving presents to deserving individuals."

He didn't look at Erin, but she knew the remark was directed at her. Nick had been right; Laurence would never forgive her for returning his gift so publicly. She was pleased to discover that she no longer cared what he did or said; she had a delightfully childish desire to put out her tongue, or thumb her nose.

"I've already had more than I deserve,' Jeff said, with a glance at Rosemary.

"No, no, dear fellow. You deserve the best, and if you go on as you've begun, you will get what you deserve. Your future unquestionably lies in politics. I foresee a brilliant career." He lifted his glass in a toast.

Joe lit a cigar and blew a thick cloud of smoke in Laurence's direction. "I'm always suspicious of you when you're laying on the compliments, Laurence; are you trying to lure Jeff away from us?"

"Now why would I do a thing like that?' Laurence asked innocently.

"Rumor has it that you have a few political aspirations yourself, " Joe said. "Forget it, Laurence, or establish residence in another state. Sarbanes and Mikulski have got Maryland sewn up, and Montgomery County is solidly Democratic. You won't have a prayer."

"I cannot imagine how these rumors start," Laurence said.

Rosemary's fingers beat an impatient tattoo on the edge of the table. "Come into my office, Philips," she said, rising. "These people have things to do. We can talk privately."

"I had hoped to persuade you to have dinner with me," Laurence said. "I made reservations at the Red Fox, but if you prefer another restaurant ..."

"No, that would be fine. ' Rosemary sounded less pleased than resigned; apparently she had decided it was easier to go along with Laurence's plan than get rid of him. "I can't take long, Philips. I have work to do this evening."

"I'll make it worth your while, " Laurence promised, smiling.

They went out together, Laurence's hand possessive on Rosemary's arm. "What do you suppose he's up to now?" Joe demanded.

"We'll soon find out," Kay said. She had raised no objection to Rosemary's defection, but it was obvious she didn't approve.

Erin was the only one who heard Jeff's murmur. "Will we? I wonder."

11

There was no comment
from Nick, for the simple reason that he was no longer there. Erin turned in time to see the door close behind him. She took off in pursuit, heedless of the stares and amused speculation of the others.

Nick was at the front door. "Are you trying to avoid me, or what?" Erin demanded. "I haven't had a chance to talk to you for days. . . . Wait a minute. Where do you think you're going?"

Nick tried to shake her off. "Let me go or come with me. I'm going to lose them!"

The taillights of Laurence's car dimmed and brightened as he made his careful way along the rutted drive. Erin released her grip. "You're going to follow them? Nick, you are absolutely the most—"

"No time. Talk to you later."

He plunged out. Erin stood watching. The taillights had disappeared before Nick's balky engine finally caught; undaunted, he pulled a screeching turn and went in hot pursuit.

Torn between amusement and exasperation, Erin returned to face Kay's visible disapproval and Joe's jokes. "Never chase a man, kiddo, let them do the chasing. Especially when the man is Nick."

Will's head popped up over the books. "And above all, never take Joe's advice on matters of the heart. He doesn't have one."

Jeff's description of politics as stumbling from one crisis to the next became more apt with each passing day. Erin came downstairs the following morning to find a fresh domestic crisis awaiting her. Kay had fallen during the night and reinjured her hand; she and
Rosemary were in the midst of a hot debate on the subject when Erin walked into the commons room. Her appearance ended the argument; Kay got up and walked out, leaving Rosemary flat.

"Oh, shit," said the latter, slamming her fist onto the table. "I'm sorry, Erin—"

"You know you don't have to apologize to me."

"Not for bad language, at any rate." Rosemary drew a long, steadying breath. "I shouldn't have lost my temper with her. She denies she was walking in her sleep, claims she was on her way to the bathroom when she fell."

"I didn't hear her," Erin said. "I should have been listening—"

"No, I'm guiltier than you, guiltier than you," Rosemary chanted. A haggard smile warmed her face. "Did you ever read
Pogo?
Remind me to lend you my collection sometime. She's trying to lay a guilt trip on me, says she was so groggy from the sleeping pills I made her take that she lost her balance. Which is a bunch of baloney—like your feeling that you ought to have been lying awake all night. In the next breath she insisted she had run out of sleeping pills. I think she flushed them down the john."

"Would you like me to take her to the doctor? I know you don't have time. '

"I do like a person who makes practical suggestions, " Rosemary said approvingly. "Unfortunately it won't work. Kay says she's fine, her hand just needs rest and time. And that old fake White—her doctor—is no damned help. I've already called him, he just said to refill the prescription for the pain medication and call him in a few days if it doesn't improve. I'll tell you what you could do, though—run into town and pick up the prescriptions. Sleeping pills and painkiller. Would you mind?"

"Of course not. That is, if Kay will let me drive the car."

"I'll make sure she does." Rosemary glanced at her watch. "Damn, I'm late. Thank you, Erin. I keep saying that—believe me, it's from the heart."

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