Stillwatch (24 page)

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Authors: Mary Higgins Clark

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Anthologies (Multiple Authors)

BOOK: Stillwatch
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At three o’clock the television crew from Potomac Cable Networkarrived at Senator Jennings’ house to tape her Christmas supper.Toby watched them with a hawk’s eye as they set up in the living anddining rooms, making it his business to be sure nothing got broken orscratched. He knew how much everything in the place meant to Abby.Pat Traymore and Luther Pelham came within a minute or two ofeach other. Pat was wearing a white wool dress that showed off herfigure. Her hair was twisted in a kind of bun. Toby had never seenher wear it like that. It made her look different and yet familiar. Whothe hell did she remind him of? Toby wondered.

 

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She seemed relaxed, but you could tell Pelham wasn’t. As soon ashe walked in, he started snapping at one of the cameramen. Abigailwas uptight, and that didn’t help either. Right away she tangled withTraymore. Pat wanted to set the food out on the buffet table and tapethe Senator inspecting it and making little changes in the way it wasplaced. Abigail didn’t want to put the food out so early.“Senator, it takes time to get exactly the feeling we want,” Pattold her. “It will be much easier to do now than when your guests arestanding around watching.”“I won’t have my guests standing around like extras in a B movie,”Abigail snapped.“Then I suggest we photograph the table now.”Toby noticed that Pat didn ’t back down when she wantedsomething done. Luther remarked that Abigail had prepared all thefood herself, and that was another hassle. Pat wanted a shot of her inthe kitchen working.“Senator, everybody thinks you just phone a caterer when youhave a party. That you actually do everything yourself will endearyou to all the women who are stuck preparing three meals a day, tosay nothing of the men and women whose hobby is cooking.”Abigail flatly rejected the idea, but Pat kept insisting. “Senator,the whole purpose of our being here is to make people see you as ahuman being.”In the end it was Toby who persuaded Abigail to go along. “Comeon, show them you’re a regular Julia Child, Senator,” he coaxed.Abby refused to put an apron over her designer shirt and slacks,but when she began to put hors d’oeuvre together, she made it clearshe was a gourmet cook. Toby watched as she rolled batter for pastryshells, chopped ham for quiche, seasoned crabmeat, those long,slender fingers working miraculously. No messy kitchen for Abby.Well, you had to give a tip of the hat to Francey Foster for that.Once the crew started taping, Abigail began to relax. They haddone only a couple of takes when Pat said, “Senator, thank you. I’msure we have what we want. That came over very well. Now, if youdon’t mind changing to whatever you’re planning to wear at the party,we can get the footage at the table.”

 

152

 

Toby was anxious to see what Abigail would wear. She’s beenhemming and hawing between a couple of outfits. He was pleasedwhen she came back, wearing a yellow satin blouse that matched theyellow in her plaid taffeta skirt. Her hair was soft around her face andneck. Her eye makeup was heavier than usual. She looked stunning.Besides, she had a glow about her. Toby knew why. Sam Kingsleyhad phoned to say he’d be at the party.There was no question Abby had set her cap for Sam Kingsley.Toby hadn’t missed the way she’d suggested to her friends that theyput Sam next to her at dinner parties. There was something abouthim that reminded Toby of Billy, and of course that was the bigattraction for Abby. She’d put on a good show in public, but she’dbeen a basket case when Billy died.Toby knew Sam didn’t like him. But that wasn’t a problem. Samwouldn ’t last any longer than the others had. Abby was toodomineering for most men. Either they got sick of adjusting to herschedule and moods, or if they knuckled under, she got sick of them.He, Toby, would be part of Abby’s life until one or the other of themdied. She’d be lost without him, and she knew it.As he watched her posing at the buffet table, a tinge of regretmade him swallow hard. Every once in a while he daydreamed abouthow it would have been if he’d been smart in school instead of justhaving the smarts; if he’d gone on to become an engineer instead ofa jack-of-all-trades. And if he’d been good-looking like that wimpJeremy Saunders, instead of rough-faced and burly—well, who knew?Somewhere along the line, Abby might have fallen for him.He dismissed the thought and got back to work.

 

Promptly at five the first car drove up. The retired Supreme CourtJustice and his wife entered a minute or two later. “Merry Christmas,Madam Vice President,” the Justice said.Abigail returned his kiss warmly. “From your lips to God’s ear,”she laughed.Other guests began to flow in. Hired waiters poured champagneand punch. “Keep the hard stuff for later,” Luther had suggested.

 

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“The Bible Belt doesn’t like to be reminded that its public officialsserve booze.”Sam was the last to arrive. Abigail opened the door for him. Herkiss on his cheek was affectionate. Luther was directing the othercamera toward them. Pat felt her heart sink. Sam and Abigail made astunning couple—both tall, her ash blond hair contrasting with hisdark head, the streaks of gray in his hair a subtle balance to the finelines around her eyes.Pat could see everyone clustering around Sam. I only think abouthim as
Sam
, she thought. I’ve never seen him in his professionalelement. Was that the way it had been with her mother and father?They’d met when they were both vacationing on Martha’s Vineyard.They ’d married within a month, never really knowing orunderstanding each other ’s worlds—and then the clash had begun.Except I wouldn’t dash with you, Sam. I like your world.Abigail must have said something amusing; everyone laughed.Sam smiled at her.“That’s a nice shot, Pat,” the cameraman said. “A little sexy—youknow what I mean? You never see Senator Jennings with a guy. People
like
that.” The cameraman was beaming.“All the world loves a lover,” Pat replied.“We’ve got enough,” Luther suddenly announced. “Let the Senatorand her guests have some peace. Pat, you be at the Senator ’s officefor the taping in the morning. I’ll be in Apple Junction. You knowwhat we need.” He turned his back, dismissing her.Did his attitude result from the picture in the
Mirror
or from herrefusal to sleep with him? Only time would tell.She slipped past the guests, down the hallway and into the den,where she’d left her coat.“Pat.”She turned around. “Sam!” He was standing in the doorway,looking at her. “Ah, Congressman. Season’s greetings.” She reachedfor her coat.“Pat, you’re not leaving?”“No one invited me to stay.”

 

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He came over, took the coat from her. “What’s this about the
Mirror
cover?”She told him. “And it seems the senior Senator from Virginiabelieves I slipped that picture to that rag just to get my way about thisprogram.”He put his hand on her shoulder. “You didn’t?”“That sounds like a questions!” Could he really believe she’d hadanything to do with the
Mirror
cover? If so, he didn’t know her at all.Or maybe it was time she realized that the man she thought she knewdidn’t exist.“Pat, I can’t leave yet, but I should be able to get away in an hour.Are you going home?”“Yes, I am. Why?”“I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ll take you to dinner.”“All the decent restaurants will be closed. Stay; enjoy yourself.”She tried to pull away from him.“Miss Traymore, if you give me your keys, I’ll bring your car around.”They sprang apart, both embarrassed. “Toby, what the hell are
you
doing here?” Sam snapped.Toby looked at him impassively. “The Senator is about to ask herguests in to supper, Congressman, and told me to round them up. Sheparticularly told me to look for you.”Sam was still holding Pat’s coat. She reached for it. “I can get myown car, Toby,” she said. She looked at him directly. He was standingin the doorway, a large, dark mass. She tried to pass him, but hedidn’t move.“
May
I?”He was staring at her, his expression distracted. “Oh, sure. Sorry.”He stepped aside, and unconsciously she shrank against the wall toavoid brushing against him.

 

Pat drove at breakneck speed trying to escape the memory of howwarmly Abigail and Sam had greeted each other, of the subtle way inwhich the others seemed to treat them as a couple. It was a quarter to

 

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eight when she got home. Grateful that she’d had the foresight tocook the turkey, she made a sandwich and poured a glass of wine.The house felt dark and empty. She turned on the lights in the foyer,library, dining room and living room, then plugged in the tree.The other day the living room had somehow seemed warmer, morelivable. Now, for some reason, it was uncomfortable, shadowy. Why?Her eye caught a strand of tinsel almost hidden on a brilliant apricot-hued section of the carpet. Yesterday when she and Lila were here,she thought she’d seen an ornament with a piece of tinsel lying onthis area of the carpet. Perhaps it had been just the tinsel.The television set was in the library. She carried the sandwich andthe wine there. Potomac Cable had hourly news highlights. Shewondered if they’d show Abigail at church.They did. Pat watched dispassionately as Abigail stepped fromthe car, the bright red suit dramatic against her flawless skin and hair,her eyes soft as she voiced her prayer for the hungry. This was thewoman Pat had revered. The newscaster announced, “Later SenatorJennings was questioned about her picture as a young beauty queen,which is on the cover of this week’s
National Mirror
.” A postage-stamp-size picture of the
Mirror
cover was shown. “With tears in hereyes the Senator recalled her mother ’s desire to have her enter thatcontest. Potomac Cable Network wishes Senator Abigail Jennings avery merry Christmas; and we’re sure that her mother, were she awareof her success, would be terribly proud of her.”“Good Lord,” Pat cried. Jumping up, she pushed the button thatturned off the set. “And Luther has the gall to call that news! Nowonder the media are criticized for bias.”Restlessly she began to jot down the conflicting statements shehad been hearing all week:

 

Catherine Graney said that Abigail and Willard were about to divorce.Senator Jennings claims she loved her husband very much.

 

Eleanor Brown stole $75,000 from Senator Jennings.

 

156

 

Eleanor Brown swears she did not steal that money.

 

George Graney was a master pilot; his plane was carefully inspectedbefore takeoff.Senator Jennings said George Graney was a careless pilot withsecond-rate equipment.

 

Nothing adds up, Pat thought, absolutely nothing!It was nearly eleven o’clock before the door chimes signaled Sam’sarrival. At ten-thirty, ready to give up on him, Pat had gone to herroom, then told herself that if Sam were not coming, he would havecalled. She changed to silk pajamas that were comfortable for loungingbut technically still suitable for receiving guests. She washed herface, then touched her eyelids lightly with shadow and her lips withgloss. No point looking like a mouse, she thought—not when he’djust left the beauty queen.Swiftly she hung up the clothes she had left scattered over theroom. Was Sam neat? I don’t even know that, she thought. The onenight they had stayed together certainly hadn’t been any barometerof either of their personal habits. When they’d checked into the motelshe’d brushed her teeth with the folding toothbrush she always carriedin her cosmetic case. “I wish I had one of those,” he’d said. She’dsmiled up at his reflection in the mirror. “One of my favorite linesfrom
Random Harvest
was when the minister asks Smithy and Paulaif they’re so in love they use the same toothbrush.” She ran hers underhot water, spread toothpaste across the bristles and handed it to him.“Be my guest.”That toothbrush was now in a velvet jeweler’s box in the top drawerof the vanity. Some women press roses or tie ribbons around letters,Pat thought. I kept a toothbrush.She had just come down the stairs when the chimes rang again.“Come in, come in, whoever you are,” she said.Sam’s expression was contrite. “Pat, I’m sorry. I couldn’t get awayas fast as I’d hoped. And then I cabbed to my place, dropped my bagsand picked up my car. Were you on your way to bed?”

 

157

 

“Not at all. If you mean this outfit, its technically called loungingpajamas and, according to the Saks brochure, is perfect for that eveningat home when entertaining a few friends.”“Just be careful which friends you entertain,” Sam suggested.“That’s a pretty sexy-looking getup.”She took his coat; the fine wool was still cold from the icy wind.He bent down to kiss her.“Would you like a drink?” Without waiting for his answer, she ledhim into the library and silently pointed to the bar. He poured brandyinto snifters and handed one to her. “I assume this is still your after-dinner choice?”She nodded and deliberately chose the fan-back chair across fromthe couch.Sam had changed when he stopped at his apartment. He waswearing an Argyle sweater with a predominantly blue-and-gray patternthat complemented the blueness of his eyes, the touches of gray inhis dark brown hair. He settled on the couch, and it seemed to herthere was a weariness in the way he moved and in the lines aroundhis eyes.“How did it go after I left?”“About as you saw it. We did have one high point, however. ThePresident phoned to wish Abigail a merry Christmas.”“
The President phoned!
Sam, does that mean . . .?”“My bet is he’s milking this for all it’s worth. He probably phonedClaire Lawrence as well.”“You mean he hasn’t made his decision?”“I think he’s still sending up trial balloons. You saw the way he featuredAbigail at the White House dinner last week. But he and the First Ladyalso went to a private supper in Claire’s honor the next night.”“Sam, how badly did that
Mirror
cover hurt Senator Jennings?”He shrugged. “Hard to say. Abigail has done the Southern-aristocracy scene a little too heavily for a lot of people around here.On the other hand, it just may make her sympathetic. Another problem:that publicity about the threats to you has made for a lot of locker-room jokes on Capitol Hill—and they’re all on Abigail.”

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