Private affairs : a novel (78 page)

I'm content, she thought. I know how much I have and it's more—and more wonderful—than I ever dreamed.

"My God, he's changed," said Saul, hanging up. "His voice was melancholy. Honest-to-God, genuine, fourteen-carat disillusionment. Think of that. The great awakening."

"Will he come back?" Heather asked.

"Depends on the stars in his eyes. He's talking about looking for other

newspapers, maybe magazines . . . says he doesn't know what he wants. It depends on how much he needs the fast life, or what he and Elizabeth do, or what his lady wants. I gave him a chance to say he wasn't good friends with her anymore, but he passed. I'll tell you what I think: you and I shouldn't speculate on it. We could grow old and feeble analyzing a future that may never come. He says Elizabeth is going to divorce him."

"Since when?"

"Tonight. He talked to her before he called me. She didn't give him a chance to say a word; just told him he was a little lower and more untrustworthy than a viper and she was divorcing him. I told him it was high time she did."

Saul pulled her to his lap. "I remember when I was eaten up with envy for what those two had together. Now look at me: is any man more fortunate? But what can we do for Elizabeth? Can we find her a scintillating, handsome, wise, passionate man for companionship?"

Heather kissed him. "I only know two. One I was smart enough to marry; the other isn't really wise, or he'd be here, instead of Houston. But I'll keep looking. What are you going to do for Matt?"

"Blow the lid off Thaddeus Bent. And I'm going to ask Elizabeth to help. She knows Bent; she wrote the story of his son's wedding when she was a reporter on the Examiner, and she did a 'Private Affairs' column on his daughter-in-law a while back. I want her in on this anyway; if we do blow it open, it'll show why Artner wrote that smear, and she ought to be part of that. She deserves it, don't you think? I'm going to call her in Denver; do you want to pick up the extension and join the conversation?"

"Yes," said Heather. "I want to be in on it, too."

Four years earlier, Elizabeth had danced with Thaddeus Bent at his son's wedding. She had been remembering her own wedding that day, thinking about the passage of sixteen years, and Bent had gallantly told her she was too lovely to work as he held her carefully and led her through one dance. Since then, she had seen him occasionally as his public appearances became more frequent; it was common knowledge that he was chafing to get out of the state legislature and into what he called the big time.

Elizabeth had written about Bent's daughter-in-law, using pseudonyms, in a "Private Affairs" story about what it was like to live with politicians and be the only family member who had no political ambitions of her own.

"She was very discreet about Bent," Elizabeth told Saul as they walked through the statehouse corridors on Monday morning. "But she did say

he was traveling a lot and having meetings at home on weekends. Probably looking for campaign funds."

Saul nodded. "He leaks tidbits of information every few weeks. Did you call Matt this morning?"

"No."

"And you don't want to talk about him?"

"No. Saul, even if he told the truth about Artner's story, and leaving Keegan, he's still off on his own journey and we're not part of it. I did think about what you and Heather said, but I don't want to call him. If he wants company in his job hunting, he has Nicole. If he wants to talk to me, he knows where I am."

She stopped before a closed door. "Here's Bent's office. Listen, dear, dear Saul; I love you and Heather, and I love having you worry about me, but I have a few things to take care of right now and that's what I'm thinking about. What Matt does is his business; I can't wait for him, or anyone else. I want to clear my name and get back my contract with Markham—which means I have to find out what was behind Artner's story—and I want to spend as much time with Holly as I can before she leaves for college. That's even more important. She's had some troubles and for the first time in years we're close enough to talk about them."

"About why she's not sing—" Saul broke off.

"Thank you for not asking," Elizabeth said. "I can't talk about it right now. And," she went on, "I want to help Isabel and the others in Nuevo; if there's some way, from this meeting with Bent, or anything else, that we can get that town rebuilt on higher ground, I'm going to do what I can to help make it happen. That's a full schedule; I can't be bothered by Matt right now. If he's having troubles, I'm sorry, but they're his troubles, not mine. He went to Keegan with his eyes wide open and I assume he'll keep them open when he deals with whatever happened between them. I haven't got time to weep for him." With her hand on the doorknob, she said, "Is there anything else we should talk about before I go into my act in there?"

"Not a thing. Can I say bravo to a very special speech by a very special lady? I'm proud to be your friend and your colleague. Now I'm going into that office and watch you take care of our would-be senator. Who probably takes bribes. Maybe we ought to work for his election: at least then he'd move to Washington. Ready?"

"Saul."

"What?"

"Just a minute. I have to think about something."

"Okay. Can you share it?"

"Not yet." Elizabeth leaned against the door and gazed unseeingly down the corridor, remembering Holly's low voice as she sat in her mother's lap. He was going to move to New Mexico — something else for us to share, he said — and then he'd move to Washington when he got elected, and he'd meet important people and make me famous. The words repeated themselves. 'Tony Rourke thinks he's going to be a senator from New Mexico," she said to Saul.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Don't ask me how I know, but he's planning to establish residency here and run for the senate, probably in a few years, probably about the same time—"

"—Thaddeus Bent will be running. My God, what a choice. Bent or Tony. I may relocate." He looked at Elizabeth. "You think you can use it in there?"

"I don't know yet. But it's always nice to have bombshells handy; it's wonderful how they liven up an interview. All right, I'm ready."

"I can't wait," said Saul, and they went in.

Thaddeus Bent had fired his secretary and hired a new one to fit his idea of what a national statesman's secretary should look like: one-third the age and twice as pretty as his former one. Foolish, Elizabeth thought; he just lost a good part of the women's vote. But she smiled pleasantly as the secretary led them into Bent's office and he rose to shake hands. "My dear Elizabeth, it's been such a long time. How lovely you look; as exquisite as the day we danced at my son's wedding ... I hope you remember that interlude as clearly as I."

Still smiling, Elizabeth nodded. "You know Saul Milgrim."

"I do. A pleasure, sir." Firmly, Bent shook Saul's hand. "Sit down— my secretary will bring us coffee—and tell me what this is about. A newspaper story, you said. I'm glad to see, Elizabeth, that you're still writing and not letting that mean-spirited story get you down. I like spunk in a lady—that is true—and I say, Good for you. So. Are you here about your column?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "You're too famous and influential, Thaddeus." She watched him preen, then said, "Once in a while I like to write about people who don't fit 'Private Affairs' and Saul has offered me space in the Chieftain for a profile on you. I like to beat the competition, you know, and since it looks like you're about to become one of our most powerful representatives, I want to be the first to do your story."

Bent tried to be indifferent, but he failed. He beamed. "Recognition. It's the name of the game. What can I tell you?"

Elizabeth began with casual questions that became a friendly talk more

than an interview as she led him to describe his father's move from Detroit to Santa Fe almost forty-five years earlier, his athletic prowess at Santa Fe High and at college, his part-time jobs and early years as a lawyer, his wife and four children, and his election to the legislature and his chairmanship of the Committee on Land Use and Recreation. As the answers rolled out, Bent leaned back in his chair, enjoying the sound of his voice, and Elizabeth's murmured comments as she took notes; since both of them were concentrating on him, he was having a wonderful time.

Behind Elizabeth, Saul sat perfectly still to avoid breaking the mellow mood, watching as she wove her web. Her soft voice murmured innocuous questions in a rhythm almost hypnotic, and then, so casually Saul almost missed it, she changed her questions from the past to the future. "Of course the U.S. Senate is an awesome place, especially for someone from a small western state. ..."

"No, no! Well, now, awesome. That is true. The Senate of the United States of America. But you're not suggesting that someone from New Mexico, specifically Thaddeus Bent, experienced and respected, can't handle the responsibility."

"I'd never suggest any such thing," Elizabeth said warmly. "You know your way around. I'm sure everyone thinks you'll be a superb senator."

"That is true. They're lining up to help, in fact. Big people, big money. We'll send out the standard campaign letters, of course, and the dollar bills and sawbucks will come drifting in, but that's mainly to know who's going to vote for us. The real money, in the hundreds of thousands, comes from the big men."

"Big men are attracted to big candidates, Thaddeus."

"By God, that's good! Can I use that? Can I put it in my brochures and posters? And speeches?"

"It's yours," Elizabeth said graciously. "My small contribution to your campaign. What about my co-contributors? Are they from New Mexico, too, or have you swept the southwest?"

"Well, now, of course we like to be supported by fellow New Mexicans, but so far the biggest contributor—confidential, now, off the record—is from California/'

"I know some political brokers in California," Elizabeth said. "Some of them are notoriously fickle. . . ."

"Ah, but not this one! I have his word! You wouldn't know him; he keeps very quiet."

"Could you tell me his name? You're probably right that I don't know him, but if by chance I do, it might be helpful to you. I've spent a lot of

time lately in Los Angeles, you know, meeting a few people in television and movie circles. ..."

"Ah. That is true. Well. Ballenger. Terry Ballenger. He is quite big, I am told; in fact, his associate, a Texas businessman, Chester Colfax by name, tells me Ballenger is big in the entire southwest. Very solid, Colfax assures me. And solidly behind Thaddeus Bent."

"Terry Ballenger." Elizabeth frowned slightly to hide the excitement of discovery running through her. "I do know the name. But I don't think he has much money, Thaddeus. He buys land for others. And how can Chet Colfax work with him? He works in Houston."

Bent scowled. "No, no, my information is impeccable. Terry Ballenger bought the whole Nuevo Valley; he's building a resort there; that takes more than a few pennies. And Chester is working with him. You have your facts wrong. But that isn't what we were talking about. We were talking about . . . what were we talking about?"

"Your contributors. Thaddeus, this is confusing. The reason I've heard of Chet Colfax is that he and my husband both work for Rourke Enterprises in Houston. I can't believe Chet didn't tell you that."

"Well. Most likely he mentioned it and it slipped my mind. Rourke Enterprises. Houston. That's Keegan Rourke, isn't it, a very big man. Chester and Rourke . . . well, of course he told me. That's not a small thing, after all."

"But there are still some things I don't understand, Thaddeus; maybe you can help me. You see, we found out the other day that Chet was the one who ordered that article on me in the Albuquerque Daily News. He did it so the legislators wouldn't take my story on Jock Olson seriously— you know the one; it suggested the legislature set aside part of the valley for a new town. The editor has confirmed that Chet ordered Artner to write it and ordered the editor to print it. As you said, it was mean-spirited. Now, if Chet represents Rourke—"

"Now wait! Elizabeth! I have great respect for you, but you have got your facts wrong! That is true! I know the facts and you are wrong! I'd like to go on to another subject and finish the interview quickly. As you know, I am a busy man."

"I do know it, Thaddeus; I don't like to keep you from your work. But I want to have my story correct. I'm in trouble over that Daily News story, and I can't take any chances. May I tell you what else I know? Then you can correct me where I've got my facts wrong."

Reluctantly, he nodded. His body had withdrawn into his chair. Besieged, Saul thought.

"Well, then." Elizabeth leafed through her notebook. "This is what I

understand so far. Terry Ballenger's company, Ballenger and Associates, bought up most of the land in Nuevo, to build a resort, and he's donating the land along one shore of the future lake for a state park."

"That is true. You have that part right."

"But according to Chet Colfax, Keegan Rourke owns ninety-eight percent of Ballenger and Associates, which means—"

"WHAT? WHAT'S THAT?" Bent was out of his chair, his face working. "Terry owns that company!"

"I don't think so, Thaddeus. We can double-check it—I could be wrong —but I think—"

"WELL YOU'D BETTER DOUBLE-CHECK IT, YOUNG LADY!"

"I will," said Elizabeth softly. "But for now, shall I go on with what I've put together?" Without waiting for an answer, she continued, "If Keegan Rourke owns most of Ballenger and Associates, he owns most of Nuevo and he's the one building the resort. So, when Jock Olson suggested a hundred acres be given to the people, and when voters began sending money, and volunteering to help build a new town, Rourke would be concerned that the legislature might do just that: take some of his land, and he'd probably try to convince key legislators to prevent it. He might even try some form of bribery, but of course you would never tolerate that. So what else could he do? He could make me, and my interview of Olson, look bad by having someone on his staff plant a story smearing me. Chet came and planted it. Chet works for Rourke."