“I hope so.” Vivien stared into the amber fluid in her glass. “We really want this, you know, and we are grateful people like you and Hilary can make it happen. I’ve always said this, feminism needs money. Big money. And men who don’t hate women. Why do they, anyway?”
The loaded question hung in the room for a bit while Marc prepared another drink for both of them. Vivien knew his mother had grown up in a household where patriarchy was a word people used with pride, and no one saw anything bad in it, a “traditional family.” They had once talked after Greene Industries made a donation to the center that was nearly enough to keep them afloat for a year.
“Because they are taught to?” he suggested. “Like everything, at some point, you have to take a critical look at these things, but not everyone is capable or wants to do that.”
“Sure, why change anything when you have the upper hand?” She held up a hand when her harsh tone registered with her. “Not you, I know. Not all men do, I know. I have to bring up these questions with someone who might have a better idea on how to answer them. All I have is theories to explain why women are getting harmed and are dying around the world—for daring to be human, and having human dreams and desires—or sometimes, simply for existing. I know patriarchy is at the core at all of this, but sometimes it’s all too much, especially with so many people who refuse to acknowledge the facts.”
“That’s what we want to change, right? I know it’s all about control, Miller’s silly antics or whatever form these things have elsewhere. It’s not exactly flattering when the only way you can feel confident about yourself is when you have to suppress the other half of the population. It’s low.” She wondered about the emotion in Marc’s voice. Then again, if this subject didn’t get to you, how much humanity did you have left anyway?
“How do we teach everyone fast enough so we don’t risk more lives?”
“We do it as fast as we can. None of our Business started today, and already a lot of firms are joining that are not associated with Greene.”
“That’s because most bosses are men, still, and they have a problem discussing female plumbing in the first place.” Vivien couldn’t have stopped the giggle if she’d tried to. “You cringed. I knew it.”
“I’d like to say I’d prefer not to know too many details about our employees’ sex life, but you do have a point,” Marc said dryly. “I’ll have you know, though, that I witnessed Frances’ birth. Not that it actually compares to what Hilary did.”
Vivien shook her glass lightly, the ice cubes making a clinking sound. “You get points for that, definitely, even if you weren’t the one to actually go through the process—and please don’t tell me details about it before I’m all done with this. Seriously though, I love the idea of the campaign. I mean, it’s for medical reasons sometimes. If it’s already awkward to ask for a raise or a day off, wow, try talking about heavy periods. Not that it’s anyone’s business why a woman would want to use contraception, and this is exactly why you came up with this great campaign. I see.”
“You are enjoying this way too much—but I can sympathize,” Marc ascertained. “Some who didn’t sign up—it’s not so much they want to talk about biology rather than math.”
“Right. It’s not even free—you already paid for your insurance. It’s kindergarten math, the kind you should be able to handle even when in your school they told you the earth is flat.”
“Exodus is going to have a big impact,” Marc reminded her. “We’re not going to change the world overnight. This is the foundation of something for decades to come.”
“You’ll be battling the backlash for the next few decades too. It’s already happening. Their next move will be to claim religious freedom to discriminate.” Somehow, today, it was harder to hold on to some optimism than on most days. Maybe Hilary’s slides had something to do with that. Exodus, no matter how huge a step it was, could only be a baby step given the state of the world.
“Well, enough people of real faith have to stand up.”
“You’re such an optimist.” Vivien laughed wryly. “How long have you been planning this?” she asked, leaning back into her chair. While she enjoyed the conversation, she was nowhere closer to sleep.
“We started buying land and developing it almost ten years ago. That wasn’t for Exodus, of course, but Hilary often talked about the ideas in the paper. We’ve always had some of the framework in place, but when Miller won the election, we knew we had to move faster.”
“You know when I said I like you? Part of it is…everything you have might have fallen into your laps, with both of your families being crazy rich, but you worked hard and both conserved and transformed what your families did. You’re not just sitting on your money—but you’re also not ashamed of having it.”
“No, we’re not. Anyone who says they don’t like living like this, frankly, I don’t believe them. We all wish money wouldn’t make such a difference, but as long as it does, we’re careful how to spend it. By the way, we could buy your house here and let our realtor’s firm deal with the rest, if you and Kerry are okay with it.”
“I don’t know what to say.” For one, Vivien was actually getting tired, ready to crash with the many decisions to make and details to consider. “I know it’s not a big deal for you, but we’re both a bit uncomfortable with obstacles being taken out of the way just like this.” She laughed a little. “I think that didn’t come out right. Thank you is what I wanted to say.”
“You’re welcome. Talk to Kerry, see what you’re most comfortable with. I believe that’s money spent right. We have some employees who decided to stay with the firm here, others might be coming in from out of state, so it would basically be a swap.”
“Only that we don’t work for you.”
“No. From this moment on, all of us work for Exodus, and don’t worry, there’ll be a lot of work to do.”
“Can’t wait.”
They both raised their glasses, and it seemed like a good moment to say goodnight, ending the conversation on a hopeful note.
* * * *
Kerry didn’t know what had woken her, but she was pretty sure that her reaction to finding Vivien wasn’t there was far out of proportion. Part of her was aware of what was going on, the sheer avalanche of bad news and frustrating and hurtful situations—their own issues, and Vincent’s death—taking its toll. She hated crying, always had. Even if she knew it wasn’t entirely true, Kerry always felt it left her with nothing but a headache and a swollen face, none the wiser.
No amount of crying would bring back Joanie, or the still at large ex-boyfriend to justice. Maybe she should leave this career altogether. Kerry had never seen it that way, but it seemed in a matter of months, she had become both too jaded and thin-skinned at the same time. Failing. It couldn’t happen again, yet she couldn’t see how she could possibly prevent the next catastrophe from happening without serious overreach. Vincent should have taken the next plane to California once she got out of the hospital bed the first time, and if Kerry had ignored the woman’s choices, she might still be alive.
If it was in her power, Vivien would never go to any of those rallies anymore, or any place where she could possibly get hurt, by someone’s hands or mean-spirited words. Those weren’t her choices to make though. At least at this moment, the realization felt damning.
She’d been too immersed in her misery to hear the door open, simply because there was hardly ever a time when she allowed it, or it got too much to ignore any longer.
“Oh baby.” Vivien’s arms came around her, but she didn’t say anything else. She understood. Vivien always did, even the fact that Kerry would try to sneak in the inevitable meltdown when she wasn’t around, even with the cost on their relationship. Hilary’s words came back to her, a reminder that she would have to try harder. No more going alone. It was comforting, and to Kerry who had learned to always rely on herself first, a bit frightening.
* * * *
“It can’t be that complica
ted,” the lieutenant governor yelled at the young investigator, while Chad Miller’s Chief of Staff was rolling his eyes. A typical day at the office, Emily Camden surmised.
Miller leaned back in his chair, surveying the scene with an expression resembling disgust. “It’s complicated, since we had no idea that the Greenes were planning a new socialist state right under our noses. It’s getting more complicated each day that the left-wing media is touting this as a great idea that will save the world. Stop playing around, will you? Find me some dirt on all of them, the Greenes, Rivers, Collins. Whatever you can come up with that will buy us some time.”
As usual, Emily found the conversation fascinating. It seemed like they had forgotten she was in the room, and maybe they had. She had no illusions these men would ever see her as anything other than acceptable decoration that you displayed whenever they tried to get the women vote. Not with too much success, granted, but as long as they let her tag along, she was willing to play along. It had gotten her enough money for her campaign to win her district by a large margin, and as long as she was privy to these meetings, all was well, as far as Emily was concerned. They didn’t respect her, sure, but she wouldn’t ask for anything she wasn’t ready to give either.
The investigator looked fairly frustrated as well. “I gave you everything I had. Collins was arrested recently at a rally, she works with the pro-abortion folks and wants a kid with her lover. If that isn’t messed up enough…”
“She’s not running for anything, neither of them is,” Miller reminded him. “I need something that will stick, something that will still be a felony when the liberals in the Supreme Court are done trampling all over our work.”
Sometimes, Emily secretly admired their bluntness, their complete and utter conviction that they were, and always were, right about what they were saying. She had studied some sociology as well, as the women who were involved in this radical feminist fantasy. She knew that you kept stereotypes in place by dehumanizing the “other.” She didn’t care much that technically, they’d group her in with “the other,” too, because at the end of the day, they needed her. In order to dress up their policies, to give them a nice shiny coat, not everything could be that bad as long as there was a woman on their side, could it?
Some, mostly women, had accused her of throwing other women under the bus. Emily didn’t see it quite that way. She had worked hard to get where she was, and she didn’t see why the same shouldn’t be true for everyone else. She paid for her own birth control. End of story.
“What about the other one, the cop?” the lieutenant governor asked.
Again, Emily was amused. Every single man in this room was talking a big game. None of them were ready to take on Marc or Hilary Greene. They had to go for the weaker link instead.
“Was supposed to go into the Hate Crimes unit. When it didn’t get funded, she made a public announcement that she’d join Exodus. Flawless record. We’re wasting our time here.”
“Oh, you think so?” Miller snapped at him. “Do you have any idea what’s going to happen if they are successful? We’ll be looking like idiots! If everyone in this room wants to keep their jobs, you better find me something. She has to have messed up somewhere, one time. You find it or we might prefer to work with someone else.”
The investigator shrugged, making Emily wonder if he was going to make something up. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Do it soon. Emily.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I want you to monitor the center Collins is working for a bit closer. Drop by, see what they are planning next. Make some friends.”
Nothing easier than that. Feminists could get really emotional about women who actually dared to have a career by not bashing men, and they already saw her as a traitor. Emily gave the governor a wry smile.
“Sure, I’ll arrange a meeting.”
“Good. Do any of you have anything of importance to say, no? Let’s get back to work then. Emily, could you wait a second?” He waited until the other men had left.
“Sir?”
“Why don’t you and James come over for dinner tomorrow night? I know it’s a little short notice, but there’s a lot to talk about.”
“Anything in particular?”
“How about the future Senate run of one of the most dedicated congresswomen in our state?”
The smile spread on her face as his words sank in. “I look forward to that conversation, Governor.”
* * * *
“What is the murder of unborn babies worth these days?” Morton Harris kept poisoning the airwaves. “I’ll tell you what the Greenes pay to advocates these days—a new job and a mansion. I don’t know if there’s any money involved in this besides those gifts, but I bet you there is. Greene Industries isn’t cheap when throwing their weight behind abortionists, feminists, and eco-terrorism. Funny they are helping their friends all over the country to undermine the Second Amendment, with the number of security guards they employ all over the world. Defending your constitutional rights—bad. Free sex and abortion—great. Does anyone else have a problem with that? Huh?”
“It’s a miracle that no one ever tried to shoot him,” Hilary murmured. “Please, don’t tell anyone I said that.”
“Especially not in the presence of a police officer,” Marc said. The attempt of humor was a bit lost on all of them.
“Vivien Collins is an interesting character in this story. She doesn’t need birth control. No, she’s a lesbian who wants to have a baby. She was recently arrested for disrupting a peaceful protest, out on bail—I guess the Greenes paid for the lawyer too, because money is only dirty until you need it. That’s mother of the year material, don’t you think?”
With a sigh, Hilary turned off the radio. “There’s being informed on what the other side does and there’s being exposed to toxic material. I’m sorry, Viv.”
Vivien shrugged. “I’m fine.” She was almost believable. It was Kerry who looked like she wanted to throw something, preferably at Morten Harris.
“Shooting someone should be a last resort, but I can’t believe we can’t even sue him for this BS,” she said. “Oh well. I suppose once we leave here, we’ll turn him off for good.”
“About that,” Hilary said. “Have you talked about the house yet? We want to make it as easy as possible on everyone, so you’ll just have to sign, pack up things, and call the movers.”
“I suppose that’s a good idea. You’re going to make us a good price, right? Sorry about that,” Kerry added. “I know you will. I’m just…” She shook her head. “I know it’s the right thing, and I want to give this everything I possibly can. I know it will be a better place for us to have the baby and raise her or him. I just can’t help thinking that there are some things we can’t leave behind.”
“What’s the deal with the woman outside the town hall? Is she going to be trouble?” Hilary asked. There are some things we can’t leave behind. Unfortunate. True.
“I haven’t gotten an angry call from my boss yet. Speaking of which, I’m going to ask for that transfer today.”
“I’ll have to talk to mine as well,” Vivien said.
“All right.” Hilary tried to sound determined, but the shadow of Kerry’s words lingered. “Let’s get to work.”
Chapter Fifteen
It was with some satisfaction that Kerry put the cuffs on Rob Brenner. His brother wasn’t ready to back up Brenner any longer when he learned Joanie had died, and he had called the police. The end of this case felt anti-climactic—there was relief in knowing that no judge could argue the actions that had led to Joanie’s death, and Brenner was responsible. He wouldn’t be able to do the same to another woman, but none of this would bring Joanie back.
Her emotions weren’t that relevant in this context. They had to go through the motions and make sure every step was by the book. She nodded to the detective who would join her for the interrogation, and they stepped into the room. At the sight of her, Brenner sat up straight.
<
br /> “Hey! You’re the cop!”
“Your deduction skills are amazing,” she said. “I’m surprised you remember me from half an hour ago. I’m sure you will be able to tell us every detail of what happened to Joanie.”
“Fuck you!” he spat. “It’s all your fault. Joanie would be okay if it wasn’t for whores like—”
“Watch it,” Detective Lambert shot at him.
Kerry held up a hand. “That’s okay, we know Mr. Brenner’s communication skills aren’t so great. We’ll make do, right? What exactly are you talking about?”
“That Exodus bullshit? I am working hard, every day, and she wants a free ride like all of those idiots who are going. Who’s going to pay for that? People like me!”
“That’s why you killed her? Because you were afraid she could actually make a living somewhere without getting beaten up by you on a daily basis?”
“Bitch deserved it,” Brenner claimed. “I’m not the only one who thinks that way. Don’t you think people will stand for it. There will be a revolution!”
“Well, from the looks of it, that revolution is going to happen without you. Neighbors heard you, saw you running out of the apartment. DNA will do the rest. You’re—”
“Detective Rivers, I’d like a minute, please.”
“Captain.”
She wasn’t pleased, but Kerry wasn’t going to show that in front of a suspect and a junior detective.
“My office,” Jepsen said after she’d closed the door behind her.
“He’s gloating. He’s going to talk.”
“I’m sure you’re right about that, but Lambert will take care of it. You’re off the case, Rivers.”
“What?” Curious gazes followed them as they entered the captain’s office.
“Have a seat. Please.”
“Am I being punished—for what?”
Jepsen sighed. “You’re not being punished, although I admit I wasn’t too thrilled about the complaint that landed on my desk, about harassing a witness.”
The Exodus Strategy Page 17