Do You Want to Know a Secret? (43 page)

Chapter 96

“It’s freezing in
here.”

Eliza rose from her desk, rubbing her arms. She was sure that it was a good ten degrees cooler in her den than the wall thermostat indicated. She hesitated to complain too loudly. Only early July, it was blistering outside. The weather forecasters were predicting a scorching summer.

Janie and Mrs. Twomey were in the living room working on some Sesame Street puzzles. Eliza and Mack were going over convention research, or were trying to. Jean’s death had shaken everyone.

The police thought it was an accident, or perhaps another suicide. There had been no witnesses on the subway platform so early on a Sunday morning.

With the
Evening Headlines
story on Joy Wingard be hind her, Eliza was trying to immerse herself in convention research material. Houston’s Astrodome had been selected as the Convention Hall. Almost 5,000 delegates and alternates, as well as 15,000 members of the media, and another 40,000 guests and convention participants were expected to converge on the largest city in Texas. The greater Houston metropolitan area roughly measured that of the state of Rhode Island and Houstonian hospitality would earn a huge economic boost for the town.

In addition to anchoring
KEY to America
from the KEY skybox atop the Astrodome, Eliza would report from the floor during the evening convention sessions. She had a preliminary copy of the
KEY Convention Handbook
, a guide that contained just about every imaginable piece of knowledge helpful in covering this major political event. Delegate seating charts, procedural rules, delegate counts broken down by state, convention staff and officials and their phone numbers, biographies and background information on the players, as well as a history of the campaign thus far—all of it was efficiently included in the handbook. Reading it carefully, Eliza couldn’t think of much the research staff had missed. Yet she knew there would be additions and corrections to the three-ring binder right up until the convention began.

The convention planners wanted a “newsless” convention, one where there was little controversy and the focus would be on Haines Wingard, the shining candidate and leader of his country. With America watching at home, a national show of party unity was the goal. This convention promised to be a lovefest. Eliza knew it was especially important to have a mental cache of anecdotes and background material to use when there was air to fill while the delirious delegates demonstrated and minor speakers droned.

She’d done some research of her own, reading books and articles on past presidential candidates and their wives. She wasn’t surprised to learn how many of the powerful men had been involved in extramarital activities. She wondered if anyone had ever thought of doing a book on the “activities” of the wives. Perhaps there weren’t enough first ladies who had dallied outside their marriages to do a book about it. Maybe down the line, when Eliza’s broadcasting days were over, she could do the research and see if there was a book there. She knew that the Joy Wingard story would make a great chapter. Eliza also knew that the knowledge she possessed could make this convention anything but newsless.

Eliza absentmindedly rubbed the tiny gold charm that hung from her wrist.

“Mack, I keep going over it in my mind. Jean coming over here with her allegations about Pete Carlson and mentioning something about other computer files.” Eliza tried to remember just what Jean had said. “There was a file about a judge, she mentioned, and a file about Joy. I was in such a rush, Mack, and she was going on and on, and asking for help. You were on your way over, and I’m afraid I didn’t realize how serious it all might have been to her.

“And then we get to the New Visions dinner, I’m trying to keep my speech in my head and look after Bill’s son, and Louise introduces me to this Judge Quinn. You remember him. Just as he says hello, young William calls him ‘the man with the funny red hair.’

“And now Jean is crushed by a subway train. I know it sounds crazy, but I feel that it’s all connected somehow. I just know it is.”

Mack considered. “Look, we can’t get into Bill’s notes. We don’t know the password. Let’s sleuth around in Houston. Maybe we’ll find out more there.”

Eliza crossed the room and perched herself on the arm of Mack’s chair. She circled her arms around his neck.

“Mack?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m excited about the Houston trip.”

“I know. I know there’s nothing you like better than politics and intrigue.”

“That’s not what I was thinking about. Do you realize this is the first time we’ll be away together?”

“If you can call it that. There will be thousands of people there. And we’ll both be working excruciatingly long hours. We won’t have much time together at all.”

“Remember the old expression, ‘Where there’s a will . . .’ ”

Chapter 97

Louise kissed the
brown wavy hair and gave the fluffy comforter covering her son one last tuck. Then she tiptoed out of the room. William was home for a few days while some repair work was being done on his group home.

She listened outside the door a minute, as she had hundreds of times before. She could hear the muffled sounds of her son talking to himself as he so often did before he fell asleep. Memories of the two-sided conversations he had replayed as a little boy usually made her smile, as it was his special way of working out in his mind at night what had happened in his school classes each day. Louise had learned what was being taught, what his teachers had corrected him on, even whom William had fought with, just by listening as he talked himself to sleep.

Tonight, she was reminded of the New Visions dinner and his replay at the table. Louise thought that getting embarrassed over William was a thing of the past, but everyone had felt so uncomfortable.

Louise slowly climbed up the flight to the third-floor library and made her way to the mahogany partners desk. The glass bowl resting on the corner of the desk was filled with unopened bills and unanswered correspondence she wanted to go through before she hit the hay herself.

She knew she had been neglecting things. Burning the candle at both ends, hey, old girl? In the days before Range, Louise’s weeks had been fairly routine, filled with work and reasonable bedtimes. When William came home for weekend visits, she had plenty of energy for him.

Now, with Range a very important part of her life, she gladly traveled into Manhattan two or three nights a week. Range came out to New Jersey on weekends. Louise smiled, thinking of Range’s pronouncement that he would not want to spend the night anytime William was home. Louise was glad that Range had said it before she had.

She’d also spent a good deal of time on the New Visions fund-raiser. It had been worth it, though. The dinner had been their most successful moneymaker yet. Eliza Blake had been a big hit as the dinner speaker. And, happily, when Louise asked her if she’d do it again next year, Eliza had agreed.

Indeed, everything was better than it had been in a very long time, and Louise was grateful. Still, the pace of her very full life was tiring, and now she was looking forward to accompanying Range to Houston. Tonight, she was just glad to have a chance to get caught up on her paperwork, write some checks, and go through the printouts of the newest multiple listings. She had three clients who were aching to buy and she didn’t want to miss an opportunity to close them.

For the next forty-five minutes she systematically wrote checks to pay the condominium maintenance fee, the Public Service Electric and Gas bill, the American Express and Visa bills, her monthly health insurance, and the car and life insurance premiums that always came due at this time of year. Then there were the envelopes asking for donations for charitable causes. She worked her way through the bowl until there were no more checks to be written for the month.

Louise decided to plow away and try to make a dent in responding to the condolence letters that were still coming in about Bill. She had been answering the letters with a personal note of her own, rather than sending the standard engraved cards. The first order of business tonight was a letter from the vice president himself, who recalled his dealings with Bill in interview situations over the years. Bill was, the vice president wrote, always straight-shooting in his questioning. The VP also went on to remark how impressed he had been with Bill’s funeral service and thought that it had been a fitting sendoff for such a fine man.

Louise’s mind traveled back to the funeral. It had been impressive and she had Father Alec to thank for it. He had handled everything.

Father Alec. Joy Wingard. Leo Karas. Bill’s will. There was some sort of connection there. It was bothering her. Seeing the priest talk to Joy in the videotape the other night was just too much of a coincidence. What was going on? She would ask Range what he thought.

She answered the vice president and three other messages of sympathy and decided to call it a night. As she capped her pen and went to switch off the lamp, she noticed a small stack of diskettes piled carefully next to the computer. William must have been busy up here. She smiled with satisfaction, still thinking that it was quite remarkable that her son was so good with the machine. She knew so many “normal” people who were mystified by anything having to do with computers.

Louise didn’t bother looking through the diskettes, didn’t notice the one at the bottom marked DAD in large, amateurish letters.

Chapter 98