A Scandalous Affair

by Donna Hill

  And Simone felt it too, the power of her ancestors, the strength of their conviction and commitment to gain justice and equal opportunity as well as full protection under the law. “Some would have you believe that this new wave of police brutality, this clash of wills between the police and our people, is confined to the inner city. That’s a myth. We have gathered statistics that indicate a widespread incidence of humiliation, abuse and excessive force across the country.”

  A ripple of clapping interrupted her momentum for several seconds, but she quickly regained her stride. She waved one hand to silence the few stragglers who wanted to continue to show their admiration for her message.

  “There is a cycle of violence and bigotry that threatens to undo all we fair-minded people in this country have worked so hard to achieve,” she said, her face tight with concentration. “The police are there to serve us, all of us. If this is the type of behavior we’re getting from them, is there any wonder why we now have a relationship of such conflict and tension? Why shouldn’t we be suspicious of them? Why shouldn’t we be slow to cooperate? Those who support this new hard line don’t understand why our hearts race whenever we’re told to pull over by police officers on a deserted highway road at night or why we’re reluctant to call them even in situations where we’re hurt or frightened. So many of these cases are not even considered pressworthy because their numbers have increased to the point where no one even raises an eyebrow anymore. Unless they’re so extreme, unless someone dies.”

  More applause.

  “What can we do about it?” she asked and paused.

  “Plenty.” A voice replied from a corner of the hall.

  “That’s right. We can do plenty. As of today, the rules of the game are changing. We are serving notice that this self-enclosed police culture must become more accessible to public scrutiny, and that means a more effective review process to weed out rogue cops. We’re calling for extended investigative powers for Internal Affairs Departments independent of the precincts and greater cooperation for people filing civilian complaints. We need a more citizen-friendly police force all across this country and we will not stop until we see real and lasting changes.”

  This time, the applause was thunderous. Her mother was glowing. This was the kind of talk, firm and resolute, that was heard from a candidate running for a national office. The crowd loved it.

  “My opponent, Mr. McCall, is from the old school, the law and disorder school, and he does not see the need for any of this. He supports the authorities no matter what they do. We’ll send a message to him on election day.”

  The hall rocked from the sudden explosion of clapping, cheers and shouts of support. This time Simone did not stop it. She stood there, basking in the warm glow of the massive show of encouragement. She looked out into the crowd, spotting her family and friends. Her mother was wiping away tears from her eyes as she clapped wildly. It was a moment she would never forget, a moment that changed her.

  “Thank you all for coming,” she shouted over the din and regally left the stage.

  “Incredible, baby,” Justin said, embracing her, with her mother, sister, Chad and Pam, who’d arrived during the speech, following suit.

  Adam stood aside, watching the outpouring of accolades for her inspirational speech. Those were his words she’d spoken, though heartfelt. He was the one who’d toiled over ever phrase, every nuance. He’d sat with her and coached her, ensuring that her declarations would receive the maximum effect. His words. Would they have sounded just as convincing coming from someone else’s mouth, or was it really Simone’s charisma that brought the words to life?

  Finally, she turned to him, a radiant smile beaming across her face. He adjusted what he knew was a hard expression, and flashed her a triumphant smile. He extended his arms and she gratefully walked into them. He kissed the top of her head. “Great job. You had them right in the palm of your hand.”

  “Couldn’t have done it without you. I’ll have to thank you later,” she said so only he could hear.

  He didn’t comment and slowly released her. Pam came up behind her, a clipboard in her hand. “Several members of the press want to talk to you, Simone. And of course the Women Against Violence committee wants photographs.” She put an arm around her shoulder and ushered her expertly away, cutting Adam a short look and a tight smile.

  The band started up again, and with dinner finished, couples found their way to the dance floor, still caught in the afterglow of Simone’s charged address. She gave brief statements to the eager press, posed for a round of photographs and graciously made her way back to her table.

  Sitting down for the first time in what seemed like hours, she took a slow sip of her champagne and momentarily allowed herself to relax and enjoy the brief respite from the demands of the media and wellwishers. It had been a successful evening. She caught a quick glimpse of Samantha and Chad as they moved effortlessly, almost as one, across the floor, and she saw the radiance of happiness on her sister’s face and the same look of joy on Chad’s. And suddenly it was all right, as it should be. And a wave of peace, the peace she’d been searching for, settled within her.

  The music segued to another tune, a slow one, and Simone let her gaze wander around the room, listening to the laughter, seeing the smiling faces. Yes, this was her night, what she’d groomed herself for, and she was going to enjoy every minute of it. This was about the future, no longer girlhood fantasies of the past. It was time to let go and move on.

  “May I have this dance?’ Chad asked, suddenly coming up behind her.

  She turned, surprised, and looked up at him, her heart tumbling once, then settling in her chest.

  “Sure.” Slowly she rose, allowed herself to be led to the center of the dance floor and stepped into his arms.

  For the first few minutes she closed her eyes and swayed to the music, allowing herself to enjoy the familiar comfort of his arms. The embrace of friendship and nothing more.

  “I’ve been so wrong,” she said against his chest.

  He eased back a bit and looked down at her upturned face. “About what?”

  “The way I’ve been acting, the way I’ve treated you since you’ve been home,” she confessed.

  “Hmm. You’ve finally noticed,” he said lightly.

  “What…happened between us was beautiful and right…at the time. And I realize that all these years what I was holding on to was an image, a dream, a fantasy. And because of that I didn’t allow myself or you to move on. I trapped us up in a tight space inside my head, and was too stubborn to let go. I couldn’t release the past.”

  “Why didn’t you write?” he gently asked.

  “I think a part of me was afraid that if I did, I might get more than I was willing to handle. This is my life,” she said, looking around. “At least for now. And I must put every ounce of myself into it to make it work. Then when I do I’ll be ready for what it was I thought I wanted with you.”

  Chad took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “I think we’ve both grown up, Simone. Finally.”

  She leaned closer to him and shut her eyes. “Yes, we have.” She paused for a moment, then spoke. “You love her, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” he said simply.

  She smiled.

  There was a sudden ruckus in the crowd as bodies suddenly shifted and tilted to make way for someone pushing through. Justin appeared as the crowd parted, his face set in a mask of angry lines, his dark eyes intent. He leaned close to a startled-looking Simone. Her heart pounded. Chad gripped her arms.

  Justin lowered his voice. “There’s been a fire. It’s serious. We need to leave as quickly and quietly as possible. The car is in the back of the building.”

  Chapter 36

  The acrid smell of burned wood, rubber and twisted metal greeted them before they exited their cars, stinging their eyes and noses. Swirling red lights dotted the night sky, cutting through the smoke in erratic rhythms like watchtower beams suddenly gone amok. Firemen were stil
l on the scene, barking orders and hosing down the final smoldering embers, causing a cascade of thick black clouds and soot to be expelled into the air. Local residents lined the street in small herds, clothed in everything from bathrobes to nightclub outfits. Yet their collective mood was the same: horror, shock and immense sadness.

  Along the curb, a cluster of television news trucks with print and electronic reporters eager for a breaking late-night story relayed to their audiences the details of this latest of plagues inflicted upon the Montgomerys.

  An overwhelming wave of despair rushed through Samantha, weakening her knees and sending the blood coursing to her head in thundering bursts. When she stepped, as in a dream, from the car, her hand flew to her mouth when she took in the full extent of the destruction. There was nothing left but the charred ribs of the building, shattered windows and the smoldering remnants of the foundation. Everything she’d worked for, built day by day for the last five years, was gone, destroyed, up in smoke.

  One by one, whispers of incredulity passed through the tight family circle. They huddled together, comforting one another with their physical closeness and empty words of hope and support.

  Samantha shook her head violently, tears springing to her eyes. Chad wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “Take it easy, Sam. It’s going to be all right. Take it easy.”

  She turned into the hard lines of his body and buried her face in his chest, shaking uncontrollably as the terror of what could have been, had someone been trapped inside, settled over her.

  “Come on, sweetheart, get back in the car. Justin and I need to talk to the fire chief.” He was thinking of arson, if an accelerant—gas or the like—had been used to ignite the blaze. Whether it was a suspicious fire. He calmly guided her back toward Vaughn, who helped her back into the car.

  Simone’s heart ached for her sister. Never had she seen her so paralyzed, so weak, as she did at that moment. Yet she knew no words would assuage the acute feeling of loss Samantha was experiencing while standing before the collection of cinders and twisted metal that was once her headquarters. Someone was out to hurt them, to shut them down. And now their blind determination had reached a new, decidedly deadly level. She hugged her arms around her body. What was next?

  Adam stepped up beside her, bracing the center of her spine with the palm of his hand. “The press are here en masse. They’re going to want a statement. My advice is to tell them that you’ll comment in the morning, when the damage is assessed and the preliminary fire report is issued.”

  Simone stared at the wreckage, nodded numbly and followed Adam to the limo.

  Chad and Justin approached the fire chief, who was still giving directions to his crew. Three firefighters, with oxygen tanks strapped on their backs, tugged at an unruly coil of hose and another group passed out axes to probe the smoking structure for hidden embers and pockets of fire.

  “I’m Justin Montgomery and this is my partner, Chad Rushmore.”

  The fire chief turned a sullen face toward Justin. “Looks like arson,” he stated without preamble. “There will be an investigation beginning in the morning.”

  “Was anyone hurt?” Chad asked.

  “No. We’ve been through every inch. Nothing.”

  The police began roping off the area in the distinctive yellow tape as the firemen began to pack up their equipment.

  Crime scene, Chad thought.

  “What did he say?” Adam asked as he approached, referring to the fire chief.

  “Arson,” Chad replied.

  “There’s nothing more we can do here tonight. We need to get everyone home, try to get some rest and sort this all out in the morning,” Justin suggested.

  The trio stoically returned to the limo, moving through the crowd which was now disbanding. Reporters watched them from across the street but did not move in their direction, respecting their right to maintain their silence until the official press conference.

  “How bad?” Pamela asked when they entered, her words full of breathy concern.

  Samantha spoke in a flat monotone. “The entire case was in that office. Everything. A total loss.”

  They regarded each other with weary eyes. No words were necessary as the chilling enormity of what “everything” meant took hold and rooted.

  For the balance of the night, Samantha lay curled in the protective confines of Chad’s arms, her back pressed against his front, as the terrible images of the fire played over and over in her head.

  “What are we going to do, Chad?”

  He stroked her hair. He’d been asking himself the very same question for the past few hours. They had less than seventy-two hours to present their oral arguments to the court. It had been through Justin’s diligence and favors owed that they’d even secured a court date so soon. Cases as far-reaching as these could easily take months, sometimes years, to get on the calendar. But Justin had impressed upon the judge the urgency of the legal action and assured him that they were ready. He and Justin had worked tirelessly to prepare the documents, gather the supporting evidence and brief the witnesses—for when their court date arrived. Now he didn’t know what they were going to do. And if they did figure out a solution, how could it be humanly possible to pull it off in the short time allotted them? Yet they couldn’t back down, not now. Not after coming so far.

  “We’ll work it out,” he finally answered, a deep weariness seeping into his bones. “The main thing is that no one was hurt. The rest…”

  “The rest,” she said morosely, “doesn’t look good.”

  Seeking to reassure her without lying, he kissed the back of her hair and lightly stroked her cheek, knowing she was absolutely right.

  That next morning, Adam eased out of his bed, not wanting to disturb Simone, after having finally convinced her it would be safer if she spent the night with him. Rubbing sleep from his eyes and face, he tiptoed quietly downstairs and put on a pot of water to boil for coffee. The images of the previous night still loomed large and so much remained to be done. This latest attack would severely cripple the class action case, especially with the case materials incinerated. Work of that magnitude could not be reconstructed in a few days. There was no question about that. How the media and the people of D.C. would respond was the next hurdle, and how it would impact Simone’s ability to proceed with her election bid was another critical challenge. He knew this whole business was taking a toll on her, whether she admitted it or not. It had barely been three weeks since she was almost run off the road. The faint bruises and traces of black and blue coloring on her chest were clear reminders of how close a call that had been. How many more accidents, how many more veiled threats to her and to her family would it take before she buckled under and threw in the towel? It was now more than a battle of wills. It was a war of nerves and endurance. Her opponents were waiting to see what it would take to make her submit, to force her to betray her convictions and her constituents.

  The phone rang, pulling him away out of the whirlwind of his thoughts. Who could this be? Quickly, he picked it up to keep from waking Simone.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s Chad.”

  Adam frowned. Not now.

  “Have you seen the morning paper?”

  “No.” Adam replied, but something in Chad’s voice bothered him. Bothered him plenty.

  “I think you should and after you do, we all need to talk and quickly.” He hung up abruptly without giving Adam a chance to answer.

  Adam secured the belt to his lightweight cotton robe and went outside on the front porch. His homedelivered copy of The Washington Post lay there in a neat roll on the stone steps. He stooped down to retrieve it and returned inside, his stomach clenching in an uncontrollable spasm of dread as he read the newspaper’s banner headline: Montgomery Law Firm Set To Launch Major Class Action Suit Against D.C. Police Department.

  Chapter 37

  After a flurry of round-robin phone calls, they’d all agreed to meet at Simone’s local campaign off
ices to initiate a strategy of damage control and come to some sort of agreement about how to proceed. It was Simone’s suggestion that they convene at her place. She had a small press conference at one that afternoon which she couldn’t get out of, and still had to prepare for it. Most importantly, she did have security on site. She’d feel safe. A few weeks ago, this business of bodyguards would have been viewed as somewhat of an annoyance, an unneeded expense, but after this spate of mishaps, security was now paramount in all their lives. The meeting was set for 10:00 a.m. Simone and Adam arrived first.

  “We need to go over your comments for the press conference before the rest of them arrive,” Adam stated, moments after they entered Simone’s office. “As of this morning, I’m certain the entire direction of their questions will be different. They will want to focus on the fire, how it affected the family, and most of all the suit.”

  Simone slapped her purse on the desk and slipped off her forest-green suit jacket revealing the silky mist green camisole beneath. She hung it on the back of her chair and gripped its top. “Damn it, Adam, who could have said something? The timing for the dissemination of that information was crucial. This premature release puts us on the defensive.”

  “My guess is that it was one of the witnesses. Who else could it be?” He turned his back and walked to the window. “My bigger concern at the moment is how all of this will affect your ability to campaign effectively. This wave of accidents, threats and now this fire has successfully taken everyone’s mind off of the issues. And McCall and his camp are still insisting it’s all a publicity stunt, which, of course, is untrue, but that kind of accusation severely clouds people’s thinking and plants a seed of doubt.”

  “I know,” she said quietly, shaking her head as she slowly paced the floor. “I looked at the overnights.” Her gaze connected with his. “For the first time since this campaign started we’re falling behind. I’m only ahead by a one-percent margin. All of these events are having a negative impact and I don’t want to see us go into a slide.”