Despite Sober’s admonitions, I let myself slip back in time to a late-March afternoon long ago.
Maybe it was the seductive spring weather that made me hand my books to Nan one day after school while I jumped on the back of Danny’s cycle, leaving both Nan and Deb open-mouthed in astonishment. We roared away from Arlington and across Memorial Bridge toward the familiar monuments. Never before had I done something so out-of-bounds, so deliciously out of character. The wind blowing through my hair, the unbelievable sense of freedom, holding on to Danny for dear life while we flew through the streets winding beside the Potomac. We headed first to the Lincoln Memorial, then to the Tidal Basin and Jefferson’s graceful dome. The scent of cherry blossoms, heady in the gathering dusk as we walked beneath them. The intimacy. And a kiss I still remembered.
Something of that memory must have shown on my face because Danny grinned at me. “The cherry blossoms are still in bloom.”
I just laughed while Danny signaled the waiter.
Eight
“Are you all moved into the townhouse, Molly?” Albert asked as he poked his head into my office.
“Finally finished last night, Albert. I’m all set up,” I replied, sipping coffee while checking emails.
“Okay, then, I’ll pick you up from the townhouse tonight before the reception. And don’t bother making dinner. We’ve got the Southern congressional delegation coming. So the caterers have come up with some specialties.”
“Southern cooking, huh? That’s always deadly. Thanks for the warning.”
I finally felt like I was settling in. This week there was only one evening reception, so I was able to ease back into the socializing demands. Next week would be business as usual—two or three receptions each week for the rest of April and May.
Taking another deep drink of Luisa’s rich coffee, I skimmed through the last of the emails that had arrived since I’d logged off last night. Now that I was officially on the job, it was amazing the people who emailed me. I scrolled down, separating legit emails from spam. Not knowing a lot of these correspondents yet, sometimes it was hard to tell.
My BlackBerry beeped as it lay on the desk. Stopping the scroll, I checked my phone and found a voice mail. I swiveled my comfortable desk chair around and looked out into the senator’s landscaped garden as I listened to the message.
“Ms. Malone, my name is Celeste Allard, and I worked with your niece Karen in Congressman Jackson’s office. She was a good friend of mine. I wanted to have coffee with you, so I could tell you something. Something that’s been bothering me ever since she died. Please call me back. I … I promise this isn’t a prank call or anything like that. I really was Karen’s friend. Thank you, Ms. Malone. I’ll wait for your call.”
I listened to Celeste Allard rattle off her cell phone number, wondering what on earth had inspired one of Karen’s co-workers to call me. I stared out the open window, a slight breeze lifted the lace curtains hanging inside the velvet drapes.
The woman’s request made me slightly uneasy, despite her assurances that it was not a prank. Did she simply want to meet me to share maudlin reminiscences about my niece? She said something was bothering her ever since Karen’s death. What could that be?
I debated erasing her message, then paused. There was something about her voice. An urgency to it that reached through. I punched in her number and listened to it ring.
“Celeste Allard,” a woman’s crisp voice answered, not sounding unsure like the voice on the message.
“Ms. Allard? This is Molly Malone returning your call. You said you had something to tell me about my niece, Karen?”
“Oh, yes, can you hold on a minute, please?” Her voice dropped lower.
“Certainly,” I said, returning to my emails.
After a few moments, she returned to the line. “Ms. Malone, I’m sorry to make you wait,” she said. “I just didn’t feel comfortable talking in my office. So many people around. You know how it is.”
“Yes, I do, Ms. Allard. Now what was it you wanted to tell me about Karen?”
“I was hoping you and I could meet for coffee. Would that be possible? It’s … it’s a lot of stuff.”
I wondered if I should have simply deleted her voice mail instead of returning it. Celeste was coming off a bit weird. I had enough random weirdness in my life. I didn’t need any more.
“You know, Celeste, I’m really up to my ears trying to adjust to my new job here in Washington, and I simply don’t have any spare evenings this week or next for that matter. Why don’t you tell me on the phone, okay?”
“Well … it’s a lot to tell, Ms. Malone …” her voice tentative now.
I decided to cut this off. “Celeste, I truly am not in the mood to listen to some office reminiscences about Karen. This has been a very difficult time for my family as you can—”
“It’s not reminiscences, Ms. Malone. It’s about Karen and Jed Molinoff.”
I paused. “What about them?” I allowed an edge into my voice.
“I … I knew about their relationship and was worried about Karen. Jed has a wife and kids back in Omaha. I didn’t want her to get into trouble. Gossip on the Hill can kill careers. Jed knew I was Karen’s friend and had seen the two of them together. He demoted me right after her death. He switched my job from staff researcher to a drone job in Records.”
I weighed what I was hearing, still dubious about Celeste’s credibility. “Had you ever confronted Molinoff about their relationship?” I probed, wondering if I was dealing with a potential blackmailer. Maybe she’d threatened Jed. Promised to expose him to his wife and family back in Nebraska.
“God, no,” Celeste said. “But he started treating me differently after Karen’s death. Probably because I had seen other things.”
I figured I’d give Celeste a little more rope and see if she hung herself. Or at least proved herself to be a resentful co-worker with a grudge. “And what sort of things did you see, Celeste?”
“First, he was going through her desk, looking for her daytimer and getting mad when he didn’t find it. Then I saw him on Karen’s computer, copying files. He caught me watching him, unfortunately. That’s when he started interrogating me every day, asking what I was working on. He transferred me downstairs two days later.”
I paused, considering everything she said. “All right, Celeste, you’ve got my attention. Meet me at the Marvelous Market Café on Wisconsin and P Street at twelve noon. I’ll only have about thirty minutes, so make it succinct and to the point. I promise I’ll give you my full attention.”
_____
I balanced my coffee and settled at the café table across from the young African-American staffer. She’d obviously gotten there before me and found a table away from other customers at the outdoor café. I took a deep drink of coffee and used the moment to survey Celeste. She was petite with chin-length black hair that curved stylishly beside her cheeks. Her almond-shaped brown eyes stared out at me expectantly from behind large glasses. Her round face made her look younger than her thirty-two years. I’d made it a point to Google Celeste and check her in the Hill directory before meeting her. Just in case she truly was certifiable. Nothing startling had shown up on my brief records search. She seemed to be exactly what she appeared—a young congressional staffer, not unlike thousands of other staff workers who peopled the offices of Capitol Hill.
“Okay, Celeste. As promised, you’ve got my full attention. So, talk to me.”
Celeste stopped picking at the cardboard sleeve on her takeout coffee cup and fixed me with an earnest gaze. “I want you to know that I’m not some disgruntled employee trying to get back at my boss. I’ve been working for Congressman Jackson and Jed Molinoff for five years now, and up to this incident, Jed had always indicated my work was exemplary.”
“What exactly did you see him doing, again? Copyi
ng files?”
“Yes. It looked like he was going through her emails and copying certain ones into a folder. I got a good look from where I was working at the desk behind Karen’s.”
I sipped the dark brew. “You know, Celeste, it could be that there were some personal emails between Karen and Jed that he simply wanted to remove before the info-tech crew got to the files. That would be my guess.”
“I thought so, too, Ms. Malone. That’s why I came back later that evening and checked to see if anything had been deleted.”
I looked at her in surprise. “Did you find anything?”
“There were several, but they all looked like regular office correspondence, not personal. You know, meetings, fundraising, stuff like that. I didn’t understand why he’d delete them.” She shrugged. “I would have looked at more files, but I heard some noises and figured someone else had come into the office to work, so I left. The next day, Karen’s computer was gone.”
“Maybe the tech crew came and took it away before you arrived for work.”
Celeste shook her head with that solemn expression of Girl Scout innocence. Her round face gazed at me with earnest sincerity.
“No, I checked. They weren’t even scheduled to come yet. But what really spooked me was when Jed started going through Karen’s desk the next day. He was pawing through the drawers, slamming stuff around, and then yelled at another staffer, asking if she’d moved Karen’s daytimer.”
I watched Celeste carefully. My antenna was picking up some strange signals from this young woman. “Maybe he was trying to find an important phone number or an email that she wrote down.”
“That’s what I thought, but then I overheard him talking to someone on the phone and Jed specifically said, ‘Her daytimer is missing,’” Celeste said in a faintly ominous tone.
That got my attention. “Any idea to whom he was talking?”
Celeste shook her head. “I don’t know, but I do know where Karen’s daytimer is. I helped her pack up her things that Saturday. I kind of walked in when Jed and Karen were having a big argument. Jed looked furious, and he stormed out of the office after I came in. Karen was so upset. She asked me to find some boxes so she could clear out her desk. She loaded up three boxes.”
“What was in the boxes aside from her daytimer?”
“Oh, files and folders, some personal stuff, music players, lots of books.”
“Did she take them home, do you know?”
“She never had the chance. I helped her carry them out to her car. But Congressman Jackson came rushing into the office right afterwards and asked Karen to do a last-minute research project for him before the reception that night. He planned to drop by the office and go over it with her, then head straight for the reception. Poor Karen never had a chance to go home and freshen up or anything. She went straight to Senator Russell’s house.” Celeste’s voice dropped. “She said she planned to tell the congressman she was leaving his office that following Monday.” Her dark eyes focused on me. “Something else bothers me, too. Jed started acting different right after Karen’s death.”
“How different?”
“He’s nervous, jumpy. I mean he’s always been hyper when we’re working on projects, but this is different. He … he’s way more impatient. He yells a lot. And he rehired this creepy guy that he’d fired only two months ago.” She frowned. “When I asked him about it, he said he needed Larry now that Karen was gone. Thing is, Karen was the one who’d insisted that Jed fire Larry two months before. Karen caught him berating one of the new admin assistants. He had her so upset, she was in tears. Karen told Jed he couldn’t allow that on the congressman’s staff. Jed didn’t want to let Larry go, but Karen insisted. And Larry threatened her before he left. I heard him.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. “What did he say to Karen?”
“He told her ‘she’d be sorry.’”
I ran my finger around the rim of the coffee cup, considering what Celeste said. “How has this Larry guy been acting since he came back on staff ? Is he behaving himself ?”
“Yeah, so far, but he’s always creeping around, watching everybody. I think Jed hired him to spy on everyone. I catch him watching me.”
I finished off my coffee, wondering what to make of everything Celeste told me. Was she an astute observer or overly paranoid because she’d been demoted? I still hadn’t made up my mind about her. Glancing at my watch, I rose from my chair. “I don’t know what to say, Celeste. I appreciate your telling me all of this, but … I confess, I don’t know what to make of it.”
Celeste stuffed her napkin into her empty cup and rose as well. “I know it sounds strange, Ms. Malone, but I’m not crazy. And I’m not holding a grudge against Jed Molinoff. Honest. I just wanted you to know what was going on. Thanks for listening to me.” Her young face registered disappointment.
I gave her a maternal smile and reached out to squeeze her arm. I remembered what it was like to be single and working in a crazed political atmosphere. “I don’t think you’re crazy, Celeste, not at all. I had the opportunity to watch Jed Molinoff in action once myself, and I know he can get pretty obnoxious.”
I spotted a smile for the first time. “You’re right about that, Ms. Malone.”
“Listen, why don’t you keep me updated on whatever’s happening over there, particularly if you hear Molinoff mention Karen’s name again.”
“I’ll be glad to. Hearing Jed say that on the phone really bothered me. Almost as much as that Larry guy creeping around, watching everybody.”
“At least you’re out of the office and down in Records.”
“Yeah, but he comes down there regularly to check files. I catch him watching me.”
“Well, you take care of yourself, Celeste, and let me hear from you, okay?” I said as I headed for the door.
“I promise. Take care, Ms. Malone. And thank you.”
I gave her a good-bye wave as I sped from the coffee shop and headed up Wisconsin Avenue, walking fast. Walking was still faster than trying to find parking in Georgetown. As I walked, I let Celeste’s comments play over in my mind.
What was Jed Molinoff up to? Going through Karen’s emails. Rummaging through her desk. Maybe he simply moved any personal emails he’d sent Karen to another folder, getting them out of the files. Just like he’d gone through the photographs in her desk and removed the photos of them together. He wanted to leave no trace of their affair. Bastard.
But what was so important in Karen’s daytimer? Who was he talking to? Was it Congressman Jackson? And why did he rehire the bad actor? Was he simply trying to replace Karen? The Fillmore guy’s past history of bad behavior could cause more trouble in Jackson’s office.
Turning onto Q Street, I angled down the shaded street, digging for my cell phone now that I was away from the noisier avenue.
“Hey, did you guys round up some packing boxes or do you need me to buy more?” I asked Nan when she answered.
“Don’t bother. We’ve got plenty. Are we still on for tomorrow evening?”
“Yep. I checked with Peter, and he said it would be fine for me to leave early. I told him we needed to clear out Karen’s apartment because the landlord has another tenant wanting it. So, why don’t we meet over there at five, okay? By the way, I found an official message from the D.C. Metropolitan Police Department on my cell phone. Karen’s car is ready to be picked up from the impound lot.”
“Deb and I can go over to get it tomorrow morning. Shall we take it over to the dealership like you said?”
“Yes, but first check the trunk,” I said as I approached the Senator’s mansion. “Apparently Karen cleaned out her office that Saturday and there are several boxes in the trunk. I’ll call the insurance guy and get this process started. We’ll repair it and donate it to charity, whatever. I never want to see that car again.�
�
Nine
Ryan approached with a tray of wicked appetizers. “Get away from me with those things, Ryan. They’re lethal.” I shooed him with my free hand, before sipping my Sauvignon Blanc.
“Oh, but they’re small, Molly,” he tempted anyway.
I kept shooing. “Begone, before I snack again.” This was the last time I would take Albert up on his suggestion to sample the caterer’s fare for dinner. They had the most deadly array of calories and cholesterol spread out in the kitchen that I’d seen in quite a while. Deep Southern specialities, miniaturized. Cajun treats were dotted here and there to spice things up. I’d inhaled several of them before I caught myself.
Sipping my wine, I strolled down the hallway, away from the clusters of congressman and aides, staffers and hangers-on. I’d already done my conversational duty for the evening and then some. Peter had emailed that he and the senator would be delayed, so I reported for duty early, ready to meet the eager politicos. Sure enough, six of them showed up early, standing on the mansion doorstep. Luisa shepherded them my way, and I took over. First, I paraded them past tables laden with scrumptious delights, then I took them to the bar. Get them happy and well fed. That was my strategy.
More congressmen and spouses had trickled in, and I renewed old acquaintances while making new ones. The senator, bless him, was only a few minutes tardy and made everyone forget with his booming laugh and tirade on D.C. traffic. By the time Peter made an appearance, I’d chatted my way through seven states, discussed off-shore drilling with two Louisiana freshmen over étouffée appetizers, debated the pros and cons of state gambling casinos with an old friend from Tennessee, commiserated with a Florida representative about the current real estate insanity, and celebrated Georgetown’s showing in the NCAA Sweet Sixteen last month with a fellow alumnus. I’d had to tap dance around that one. Chaos had taken over in early March, and basketball never even got on my radar screen.
Deadly Politics Page 12