Secrets So Deep eBook

by Secrets So Deep [Bella] (mobi)

  Michael laughed with obvious incredulity. “Winters was arrested for slapping his wife at a cookout in front of two dozen witnesses. You can’t possibly consider these two cases to be similar in evidence.”

  Michener went on. “Glynn, we have in hand the results of some internal polling to gauge the fallout from the recent scandals. It is a fact that your continued membership in Congress is a detriment to our efforts to maintain a positive image with our values voters.”

  “Did you ask specifically about Congresswoman Wright, or was this a generic poll?” Michael demanded.

  “We did not mention the congresswoman by name, but a solid majority of voters agreed that murder charges against one of our elected officials reflect poorly on the party.”

  “With all due respect, doesn’t that strike you as a loaded question? Of course voters are upset by allegations. But you didn’t demand your president resign when there were allegations of wrongdoing or when public opinion ran against him. Did you?”

  “Gentlemen, let’s not debate this,” Glynn said. “I have no intention of giving up my seat unless the voters in Indiana decide they want someone else. I think this is a good time to remind people that our constitution guarantees the presumption of innocence. I did not commit a crime, and I will not resign.”

  Stines blew out a thick stream of smoke and stubbed out his cigarette. “I hope you’ll reconsider, Glynn. We can’t afford to lose your seat or any others if this paints us all in a bad light.”

  “I think it will be a worse reflection on our party if my resignation makes voters assume I’m guilty. I don’t know where my son’s allegations are coming from, but he’s had a great deal of difficulty dealing with his memories of his father’s death. If I’m guilty of anything, it’s of not being attuned to his emotional needs. I will rectify that. I love my son, and we will get to the bottom of this and put it behind us once and for all.”

  She started to stand, but Michael tugged at her sleeve. “There are a couple of other things we should bring to your attention. In the next few days, the district attorney will begin putting his case together publicly. He will argue that Congresswoman Wright killed her husband to free herself from marriage so she could pursue relationships with other women.”

  “Excuse me?” The veins on Michener’s forehead suddenly popped out. “Are you telling us you’re a lesbian?”

  “No, Clayton. I’m telling you I’m bisexual. And while it grieves me to share such personal information with those who don’t know me or care about me personally, I’m not going to sit by in silence as if I’m ashamed of who I am.”

  Michener slumped in his chair. “There go four million votes in the next general election.”

  “That’s the party’s fault if you ask me,” Glynn said sardonically. “But no one ever does. They stick to their old conventions and lose more voters every year.”

  “It’s about coalitions, Glynn. You know that.”

  “I know it used to be. But this hard-line anti-gay stance is going to undermine our efforts to recruit younger voters.”

  “We aren’t anti-gay,” Michener said. “We’re working from within to adopt a more inclusive position, but these things take time.”

  “They take a lot longer when you backslide,” she said.

  Michael took her elbow now and nudged her from her seat. “One other thing you should know . . . Congresswoman Wright is currently undergoing treatment for breast cancer. We would appreciate any support you can give her with the press, as it would free her to concentrate on a cure.”

  Stines and Michener stood when she did, both wearing indignant scowls. Michael had them over a barrel, she realized. “As I said, if my voters call for my resignation, I’ll clear the deck. Until then, thank you for your understanding and support. It means so much at a time like this.”

  • • • “Didn’t I tell you coming out was liberating?” Charlotte asked, pleased at Glynn’s blushing smile. They were enjoying hot cocoa on her couch, a soft fire setting a cozy mood.

  “Yes.”

  “Now don’t you wish you’d spoken up sooner?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far. My constituents aren’t going to like

  this at all. I just have to convince them I’ll keep working for the things they want.” “You have a long list of accomplishments, Glynn. Surely, that will carry more weight than you having a girlfriend.”

  “Except that homophobes aren’t really known for their rational thought.”

  “True.”

  “Did you ever have any problems when you came out?”

  “Not really. Back then, I knew better than to mention my sexuality in my applications to medical school, but it isn’t a big secret now.”

  “So everyone knows you’re a lesbian?”

  “Probably.”

  “How did your family react?”

  “Mostly okay. They were far more scandalized when my sister had an affair with the minister. Those were exciting times.” Charlotte enjoyed Glynn’s laugh. “What? No one in your family ever did that?”

  “If they did, they kept it quiet.”

  “Claire doesn’t do anything quietly. At least she was between husbands at the time.”

  “How old is your sister?”

  “Forty-two. Currently separated from husband number three.”

  “Wow.”

  “The hardest thing about being around my sister is forgetting I’m a psychiatrist. She’s a walking personality disorder.”

  Glynn shook her head. “How could two such different people come from the same family?”

  Charlotte had asked herself that question many times. “I don’t know. Obviously, Claire doesn’t put much stock in fidelity or commitment, and that’s not what we learned at home. Our parents have been married forty-four years and they adore each other.”

  “Aw, that’s sweet. So are you the fidelity and commitment type?”

  “I’ve always thought so. That’s why I tried so hard with Vera, even after I knew she was screwing around.”

  “I don’t know how you stood that. If Bas had ever cheated on me, that would have been the end of us.”

  “I think that’s true of most people. I just kept hoping Vera would realize what she had at home was the real thing.”

  Glynn turned sideways on the couch and crossed her bare feet next to Charlotte’s thigh. “Do you think you’ll love anyone that much again?”

  “If I didn’t think I could do better for myself than Vera, I wouldn’t bother looking anymore. But I’m sure I can. I think I have a lot to give someone, but I only want to give it to someone who can return it.”

  Glynn wiggled her toes against Charlotte’s leg as if giving her a pat. “You do have a lot to give.”

  Their conversations had become increasingly personal, both peeling back the layers of their emotions. Charlotte had never talked this way with Julie. In fact, it was hard to remember ever talking this deeply with Vera, though she was sure they had in the beginning. “And what about you? Will you ever have again what you had with Bas?”

  Glynn shook her head. “I don’t think so, but that’s because we had Sebby. And also because of the type of person Bas was. His political ambition was the center of our lives, even more than our son in some ways.”

  “I can see how that would be pretty hard to replicate . . . unless you fell for another politician who wanted children.”

  “A likelihood of zero. I hope I’ll find love again, but it won’t be anything like that.”

  “What do you think it will be like?” Charlotte couldn’t resist asking the question any more than she could stop herself from grasping the toes that brushed against her thighs.

  “I think it will be a woman . . . and our life will be about us. Sebby’s nearly grown, and I don’t plan on filling my empty nest with my job.”

  Charlotte nudged the stack of journals on the coffee table with her foot. “I know what you mean.”

  “But one thing I hope is the same. I want my lover to also b
e my best friend, like Bas was . . . someone I can talk to about anything, someone who will stand with me when I need it most.”

  A shiver ran up her back as she met Glynn’s candid gaze, and an unspoken promise passed between them. If they weathered these trials, love might be waiting on the other side.

  Chapter 17

  Glynn spotted Michael’s car in the parking lot and directed Tina to the vacant space alongside. “I shouldn’t be long.”

  “Thanks for coming back,” he said as he opened her door.

  “I don’t have much time. My plane leaves at a quarter past ten.”

  “This will be worth it.” He led her into the sleep center and past the reception area to an office that held several chairs and a large-screen television. “We don’t have long, Doctor. Can you fast-forward to the spot you wanted to show her?”

  Glynn had left the center only two hours earlier, barely enough time for her treatment and the trip to her office and back here. She settled into a chair, eager to see what had Michael so excited.

  The doctor who had directed her evaluation was poring over a graph. He used a remote control to advance the video. “You said this morning that you slept through the night.” “That’s right.”

  “Do you remember waking at all? Maybe just a little disoriented?”

  She shook her head. The physical exhaustion that had plagued her since her treatments began had brought her easy sleep, free of worry and discomforting dreams.

  “Here’s what we saw at two twenty-three.”

  She stared in amazement to see herself awaken suddenly, wide-eyed and seemingly alert. She had sat up straight in bed and looked around the room, her face blank. Then just as suddenly, she fell back and closed her eyes, fast asleep again.

  “Do you remember sitting up, Glynn?” Michael asked.

  “Not at all.”

  “I’m not surprised,” the doctor said. “This is the most common manifestation of somnambulism . . . sleepwalking. Not all of those who experience it actually get out of bed, but nearly all of those who do get out of bed also have episodes much like this one.”

  “So . . .” Glynn looked from the doctor to Michael and back. “You’re saying that I walk in my sleep?”

  “You certainly have that propensity. Your brain activity clearly showed a semiconscious state, which is very difficult to simulate if one is actually aware.”

  “This is very good news, Glynn,” Michael said.

  She fought back a wave of nausea. “Except that it means I might have killed my husband.”

  “. . . but the funeral is first on our schedule at two o’clock,” Randy explained, handing Glynn an updated copy of her itinerary for the next two days. “These are the Walcotts. Their daughter June was one of the Marines killed by that car bomb at the embassy in Jakarta.”

  Glynn shuddered with sadness. Her own troubles paled against the task of burying a child. “I need to go home and change into a dark suit.” The bright red one she had worn from Washington wouldn’t work for a funeral.

  “Let’s grab a quick bite and I’ll take you by your house.” “And are we set for the town meeting?”

  “Six thirty at the community center.”

  Glynn got up from behind her desk. “My attorney is flying

  in this afternoon. I told him to come straight here to the office. Will you see that he gets there?”

  “I’ll ask Susan to give him directions. Is he renting a car?” “No, I’m sure he’s hired a limo from the airport.” “He must have money.”

  Glynn snorted. “Yeah, my money.” She had already paid

  Michael a fifty-thousand-dollar retainer to cover his preparation time and expenses. By the end of her trial, the price tag could double, practically draining her savings. At least Sebby had the trust from Bas’s estate.

  “I still can’t get over this, Glynn. Is there any more news about where Sebby could have gotten all this?”

  She sighed and came around her desk to sit in a chair next to her aide. “We’re pursuing a few things, Randy. I spent last night at the Center for Sleep Disorders. It turns out my sleep patterns are very similar to those of confirmed sleepwalkers. In fact, the doctor thinks it’s entirely possible I could have done this in my sleep, acting out some sort of trauma from the things I saw in Bosnia.” Each time she related the doctor’s findings, her stomach lurched. “On the one hand, it’s the only thing that could explain what Sebby claims to have seen.”

  “And on the other . . .”

  “It means I killed my husband,” she said softly. “I wish there were another explanation, but Sebby’s memory is matching up to some of the details in the police report, things he couldn’t have known.”

  “Is there any chance someone planted the idea in his head?”

  That was an avenue Glynn had thought about quite a bit, especially during the night she spent in jail. The idea that someone was using her son to frame her for murder was so far-fetched she didn’t dare bring it up for fear of sounding paranoid. “Who would want to hurt me, Randy? What have I ever done to deserve something like that?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t imagine it, Glynn. But I can’t imagine you killing Bas either, not even in your sleep.”

  “Look, I need to give you a heads-up about something. There’s going to be a story about me in the Post on Sunday. I told them a few things I haven’t told many people, and there might be some fallout when it hits the wire.”

  Randy nodded earnestly. “Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it.”

  “I hope we can. The reporter I talked with was David Pender, who did that series last summer on the preschool bill. He’s a friendly, but I went on the record about some things that are going to raise eyebrows. The first is this sleepwalking defense. I didn’t say it happened, but I told him it was the only possible way Sebby’s story could be true.”

  “That shouldn’t hurt us too bad, but there will probably be a lot of people who don’t buy it.”

  “I know that. And there will be a lot more people who won’t like the next part of the story, which is that before Bas and I were married, and again several years ago, I had romantic relationships with women.”

  Try as he did, Randy couldn’t conceal his shock.

  “The prosecutor plans to argue that I killed Bas because I was trapped in our marriage and unfulfilled. Nothing could be further from the truth. I wanted to grow old with Bas Wright, and I would have been fulfilled with him until my last breath.”

  “It, uh . . . it would probably help us if you went on camera and said that last part.”

  “I will, but not until the story breaks. I’m scheduled to go on CNN next Monday, and I’ll probably do the morning news shows later in the week.”

  Randy nodded as she spoke, scribbling furiously into his notebook. “I’ll try to line up supporters here to talk to the press.”

  “That’ll be great, Randy. And the other thing . . . I’m sorry I haven’t told you this already. I had a breast exam about six weeks ago and they found a small growth. I had it removed and I’m getting radiation treatments. I didn’t want to tell anyone about it, but frankly, I could use the sympathy.”

  Randy shook his head, his mouth agape in apparent disbelief. “Glynn, that’s awful. You should have said something. I could have rearranged everything and let you take it easy.”

  “It’s all right. I caught it early and it’s under control. And I only have one more week of treatments, which means I’ll be getting more rest.”

  “I can’t believe all this shit you’re going through. One person shouldn’t have to deal with all this.”

  “Fortunately, I’m not dealing with it alone. Tina and Roy have been rock-solid, and I have a good friend who’s driving me to my treatments every day and even hiding me from the press.”

  “And Mrs. Wright?”

  Glynn shook her head sadly at the mention of her mother-inlaw. “I’ve left her three messages since my arrest and she hasn’t called me back.”

 
“She’s probably just confused by all of this.”

  “Maybe, but I would have thought eighteen years as a part of her family would be worth the benefit of the doubt, or at least a willingness to listen to my side of the story.”

  Randy checked his watch. “We need to go so you’ll have time to change. You’re handing out trophies tomorrow at the youth recreation league. Why don’t you go see Irene when we’re finished?”

  She met his grim look. “I need her, don’t I?”

  He nodded. “If she comes out against you, you’re toast.”

  Charlotte opened the manila envelope and withdrew the documents.

  After reading the transcripts of Sebby’s evaluation, the prosecutor had no additional questions for her regarding the boy’s psychiatric condition or care. Instead, he had zeroed in on Sebby’s recounting of the events surrounding his father’s death, highlighting the recollection that his mother had told him what happened. Charlotte was instructed to prepare to appear in court to testify regarding the authenticity of the transcript.

  It was better than she expected, since Ferrin’s accompanying letter excused her from testifying about Glynn’s request to keep her relationships with women out of her son’s therapy sessions. The downside was, as a witness, she was barred from attending the trial, which meant she couldn’t come to the courtroom in a show of support for Glynn.

  She scrolled through the calendar on her desk. A small red asterisk marked the start date for Glynn’s trial, only a month away. Michael said they would likely kick off with two days of pretrial motions and jury selection, meaning the trial itself would start on the seventh of April. Given the witness list, he expected it to last no longer than two weeks.

  She pulled a form from her desk and filled in the dates. If she timed her vacation request right, she could catch it gavel-togavel on the Court Channel, and be close by for Glynn whenever she needed encouragement or help.

  “. . . and I’m certain the ethanol bill working its way through the Senate now is going to be a boon to our corn farmers.”