The Senator's Wife

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The Senator's Wife Page 30

by Karen Robards


  The keys were in the ignition.

  Blessing life in small-town Mississippi, Marla got behind the wheel.

  Be calm.

  The first thing of course was to make sure the car still ran. It was covered with dust, and she personally had never seen Mrs. Diaz leave her house. If it ran, then she would get out, open the garage door, and drive away, slowly enough so as not to attract attention.

  Something, Marla didn’t know what, made her glance at the side door. The doorknob was turning, jiggling—and then the door opened.

  All Marla needed to see was a hand and part of a profile. She knew who was coming through that door.

  Turning the key in the ignition, she prayed as she had never prayed in her life.

  He was leaping for the driver’s-side door.

  Please God. Please God.

  The engine roared to life. Marla slammed her foot down on the accelerator with all her might.

  The Nova shot forward, bursting right through the rickety garage door.

  Chapter

  45

  September 20th

  10:00 A.M.

  RONNIE KNEW THAT SOMETHING was up the minute she walked into the kitchen.

  Tom had left her bed before dawn. She had gone back to sleep, smiling a little as she thought about how many trips he had made to and from his mother’s that day. After lunch he and Mark had stayed until nearly five. The three of them had messed around on the farm for a while, until Ronnie had gone in to help Sally finish up preparations for the potluck, leaving Tom and Mark to muddle about on their own. Then Mark had come in, and Ronnie had gone out. She and Tom had been sitting on the swing when Sally had appeared with a pitcher of iced tea. In the end all four of them had sat out under the silver maples, drinking iced tea and talking about nothing, really, until it was time for Tom and Mark to go.

  It occurred to Ronnie as she watched both cars back out of the driveway that she and Tom had never before had a couple of hours to just idle away together.

  She wondered how many people went through their whole lives without ever discovering just how precious time was.

  She wanted to spend all her time with Tom, and she couldn’t, so every minute became something to savor.

  Then the realization sprang full-blown into her mind: I’m not married anymore.

  She was free.

  She could almost hear the sound of the shackles falling away from her soul. Her spirits lifted as if they’d suddenly been shot full of helium.

  Lewis, God rest his soul, was dead. She didn’t owe him anything anymore.

  She and Tom had all the time in the world.

  As soon as the ridiculous allegations about her killing Lewis were cleared up, they could be together whenever they wanted. There was no one and nothing to stand in their way.

  Or so she thought, until she came downstairs to find Tom sipping coffee in his mother’s kitchen.

  He was wearing a suit and tie, the charcoal one she liked and the tie that made his eyes look as blue as Sedgely’s pool. His face looked drawn and tired as he talked to his mother. When he glanced up to find Ronnie standing in the kitchen doorway looking at him, his expression turned positively grim.

  “What?” Ronnie asked, knowing that it was bad news.

  “Sit down, dear, and have some breakfast. Tom, let her eat breakfast first.” Sally started to stand up.

  “What?” Ronnie said again, demanding this time, her eyes never leaving Tom’s.

  “Oh, dear.” Sally stood still, glancing from one to the other of them. Distress was plain to read in her face.

  “Dan wants you to meet him at his office at noon.” Tom paused, but Ronnie wasn’t misled. Tom was not looking at her with that expression on his face over an appointment with her lawyer. She said nothing, just waited. “He’s going to drive you to the police station. The DA called him this morning. They are going to arrest you for murdering Lewis, and instead of them coming out and hauling you away in handcuffs, Dan has arranged for you to turn yourself in. They want you there by one.”

  “Oh, my God.” It was a whisper, and for a moment Ronnie did not realize that it had come out of her own mouth. She leaned weakly against the doorjamb, feeling as though all the blood were draining out of her head.

  Tom got up from the table and walked over to her, pulling her away from the doorjamb and wrapping his arms around her. Ronnie leaned against his chest. Her hands slid around his waist beneath his coat, and she clung.

  If he had not been holding her up, she would have collapsed.

  “Will I—have to stay long? At the police station? I mean, is this some sort of formality and they’re going to let me right back out again—on bail?” she asked haltingly after a moment.

  “I don’t know.” Tom was holding her close, not kissing her but just holding her, in a way that told her that this was as hard for him as it was for her. His voice was low and rough, and stirred the hair just above her ear.

  His answer frightened her.

  “I didn’t kill him, Tom.”

  “I know that, darlin’. I know it.”

  Ronnie shivered as the full, hideous realization hit.

  “When I go in there today, I might not come out for months. Or—or even years. How long does a trial take? Remember O.J.? The trial took longer than a year. He was in jail that whole time, wasn’t he? And if they find me guilty …” Her voice broke. “Oh, God, Tom.”

  “But you’re not guilty. We’ll prove it. We’ll find out who really did it, and …” His voice trailed off. Looking up at him, Ronnie saw that he stopped talking because he couldn’t go on. She saw, too, that his eyes, like hers, were wet with tears.

  Chapter

  46

  September 20th

  11:50 A.M.

  THEY HAD SPENT an uneasy night in the car, because Marla didn’t have any money for a motel room. Fortunately Lissy had a couple of quarters in the pockets of her shorts, and Marla had found an ancient-looking dollar bill under the driver’s seat. That had been enough to buy doughnuts, and milk for Lissy. Marla had drunk water.

  She didn’t know what they were going to do.

  After escaping from the garage, she had driven around the corner, dragged a protesting Lissy out of the yard where she had been playing, and hightailed it out of town. There had been no sign of pursuit—the last she had seen of the intruder was in the garage—yet she knew he would come after her.

  On the road to Jackson she had stopped only once, just long enough to call the police and report a murder at Jerry’s address.

  Now, parked at a service station near the new capitol building, she was out of money, out of gas, out of luck. Mrs. Second Wife and her high-powered lawyer were her last hope. If they couldn’t help her, she was going to have to go to the police.

  At least Lissy would be safe.

  She was pretty sure that the intruder wasn’t a cop, though he had worn a uniform. He hadn’t struck her as a cop any other time she had seen him. Not even a bad cop. And she was good at sniffing out cops. No, he had somehow found out that Jerry was a cop—a former cop—and had worn the uniform to gain Jerry’s confidence.

  But how the heck, after all this time, had he found Jerry?

  Marla didn’t know, and she didn’t want to know. It made it seem like this guy was too powerful, like he knew everything. So far, by the skin of her teeth, she had managed to elude his net.

  She couldn’t count on continuing to be so lucky.

  “Mom, I have to pee.”

  Lissy was slumped in the front passenger seat. She was tired and hungry and cranky, and made no effort to conceal it. And Marla knew she was tired herself, because it irritated her that Lissy had to pee. Dang it, she always had to pee.

  “So go pee.”

  “I’ll be right back.” Lissy hopped out the door and trudged across the pavement to the ladies’ room around at the side.

  Marla tried to think. Mrs. Second Wife’s lawyer’s office was in the building directly across the street
from the service station. She had found the address in the phone book. Mrs. Second Wife herself was supposed to be there at noon, to meet her lawyer before turning herself in to the police and being placed under arrest for murdering her husband, the Senator.

  Marla had heard all about it on the radio as she drove.

  The street around the lawyer’s office was thronged with TV camera crews. The building itself was ringed with cops.

  All in Mrs. Second Wife’s honor.

  Marla used their second-to-last quarter in the pay phone, and dialed the lawyer’s office. She got voice mail, just as she had been getting voice mail all morning. It was frustrating, because she had no number to leave.

  “My name’s Marla. I have to talk to Mr. Osborn about that senator’s murder. I know who did it—well, sort of. Anyway, I know his wife didn’t do it. Oh, this is such crap. I hate these machines. I’m across the street and I’m coming over to talk to Mr. Osborn now,” Marla snarled into the machine, and hung up.

  Talking to the lawyer’s voice mail was a waste of time, Marla was pretty darn sure. Probably no one ever monitored it. She had left a message with the machine before, when she had been at Jerry’s, with the number where she could be reached and everything.

  And no one had ever called her back.

  A white car pulled into the service station and stopped on one side, in the building’s own shadow next to the Dumpster. Marla noticed, because she was paranoid about being followed. But the man who got out of the car wasn’t the intruder. He was stocky, with curly black hair, and he wore a blue suit. His movements were ponderous as he walked inside.

  Something was obviously not going well in his life, Marla thought, her curiosity piqued. Of course what was special about that? Her own life could best be described as a disaster. But still, she glanced into the man’s car, at the woman who was with him.

  The woman looked right at her. Marla’s jaw dropped.

  She wasn’t absolutely positive—the woman wore a scarf over her head, so no trace of her hair could be seen—but she was ninety-nine point nine percent sure she was looking into the face of Mrs. Second Wife.

  Chapter

  47

  September 20th

  11:55 A.M.

  RONNIE’S THROAT was so dry that even breathing was uncomfortable.

  “Kenny. Kenny, please, could you stop and get me a bottle of water? Please?”

  “Sure, Ronnie.” Kenny was sympathetic and uncomfortable, eager to do anything he could to make this nightmare easier for her to bear. He had been pressed into service by Tom, who was himself under strict orders from Dan Osborn to stay away, to deliver her to the lawyer’s office at noon.

  Noon was five minutes away. She had to make the time last, to stretch it out any way she could. She had to have something to drink.

  Kenny pulled into a service station, way over out of the way behind the building, just in case any of the jackals who ringed Osborn’s office should have strayed this far away from their target. It was one of those service stations that sold snacks, just a few, and cold drinks. The very idea of food made Ronnie gag. She had had nothing to eat all day.

  The way she felt she might never eat again.

  But she needed something to drink.

  “Just water, Ronnie? Can I get you anything else?”

  “Just water, Kenny.” Her voice was hardly more than a croak, and no wonder. In the end she had cried, in Tom’s arms, until there were no tears left. He had cried too. That was when she knew how dire her situation was. For Tom to cry …

  Once she stepped inside that jail, it might be months, or years, before she came back out. She knew it. He knew it.

  And there was nothing he could do to save her. Nothing she could do to save herself.

  She was terrified. Sick and sweating and terrified. She had never been arrested before; but it was not the thought of arrest that terrified her so. It was the time—the days and weeks and months of her life she would lose.

  Oh, God, why now, when time had become unbearably precious to her?

  Kenny got out of the car and went inside the service station.

  Ronnie stared through the windshield without seeing anything. It was a bright, sunlit day, but she was freezing cold. She couldn’t do this. She could not.

  Her hand moved of its own accord, curling around the door handle. She could save herself. She could run away.…

  Someone tapped on her window. A young woman with long straight: blond hair.

  Ronnie was so startled that she pushed the button, rolling the window partway down before she thought.

  Then she realized where she was and what she was doing, and pushed the button again, only this time in the opposite direction. The window started to slide upward.

  “No, wait! You have to talk to me! I know who did it! I know who killed your husband!” the woman said frantically.

  Ronnie’s hand slackened on the button. She stared at the other woman through the glass barrier that was three-quarters raised. Whoever the woman was, she wasn’t a reporter, Ronnie was sure. She was not really pretty, but attractive in a hard sort of way. Her pale blue summer dress was cheap polyester. Her features were even enough, but sharp and thin. Her skin had seen too much sun.

  But she said she knew who killed Lewis. She was probably nothing more than a nut spouting gibberish—but what harm could listening do?

  Slowly Ronnie pushed the button in the other direction, and the window rolled back down.

  For an instant the two women stared at each other.

  “You said you know who killed my husband?” Ronnie asked slowly. She was a fool, she knew, to be grasping at straws—but then straws were all she had to grasp.

  “He had a boat, the Sun-Chaser, didn’t he?”

  Ronnie nodded.

  “My girlfriend—two of my girlfriends—went out on that boat and never came back. One of them turned up dead. Murdered. Susan Martin. Charlie Kay Martin’s daughter? You’ve probably heard about it on TV.”

  With a vague recollection of seeing some newsmagazine show on the TV evangelist’s murdered daughter, Ronnie nodded.

  The woman leaned closer, her voice and manner urgent. Stubby fingers with bitten nails curved over the edge of the open window. “Everybody who went out on your husband’s boat that night is turning up dead. Susan. Claire. Some other friends of mine who set up the date. Your husband. Someone is trying to kill me because I know—oh!”

  This last was a soft exclamation as someone came up behind her. Ronnie caught just a blur of a sudden violent movement as something was thrust against the woman’s side. There was a sharp, crackling buzz, a burning smell, and the woman’s eyes rolled back in her head. Then she dropped like a stone.

  Ronnie was so surprised that all she could do was gape.

  “Your turn, sweetheart.” A man’s hand came through the window, thrusting beneath the silk scarf she had tied loosely around her head to twist in her hair. Even as pain shot through her scalp and she jerked away, he was shoving something—a palm-sized white plastic rectangle?—against her shoulder.

  This time she didn’t even hear the crackling buzz.

  Chapter

  48

  September 20th

  Noon

  “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, she took off?” Tom was standing in his mother’s kitchen, leaning against the wall, the phone pressed to his ear. Kenny was on the other end of the line. His mother stood three feet away. Ever since Ronnie had left, his mother had been hovering over him as she had done when he’d hurt himself as a little kid.

  He was a grown man, only slightly tied to her apron strings, he thought with a bleak attempt at humor. He loved his mother and appreciated her attempts to comfort him. But there were some things even a mother couldn’t fix.

  Kenny had started talking as soon as Tom had picked up, without so much as a greeting.

  “She took off in your car?” Tom felt and sounded incredulous.

  Either Kenny was not making sense or Tom himself was
not processing information as well as usual. He took a deep breath, and tried to concentrate.

  “Okay, Kenny, run that by me one more time,” he said, interrupting his partner, who was in full spate.

  “Goddamn it, Tom, she’s gone! She took off in my car!” Kenny was almost yelling by this time.

  “Ronnie?”

  “Of course Ronnie. Who the hell am I talking about? Ronnie! Ronnie took off in my car. I think she’s making a run for it!”

  “Kenny, are you sure the car’s not around there somewhere? Take another look.”

  “Dammit, Tom, don’t you think I’ve looked? Listen, here’s what happened: She said she was thirsty, and would I please stop and buy her a bottle of water. I pulled into a service station and went inside. When I came back with the water, the car was gone. She was gone. Now what does that sound like to you?”

  “Jesus Christ.” Tom leaned against the kitchen wall. “We talked about running. She knew they would just find her and bring her back, and then she would look guiltier than ever. Kenny, she didn’t run.”

  “Maybe she panicked at the last minute. She was turning pretty white, and I could tell she was scared to death.”

  “Jesus Christ!” Tom said again. “Where are you?”

  Kenny told him.

  “I’ll be there as fast as I can get there. Call Dan Osborn and tell him what’s going on. And try to stay away from the press!”

  “Yeah,” Kenny said, and hung up.

  Chapter

  49

  September 20th

  12:30 P.M.

  FOR A MOMENT Ronnie thought she was trapped in another nightmare. She felt groggy, disoriented, achey. The world seemed to be rocking. The covers were all wrapped about her face—that was the problem. That’s why she was so hot and could barely breathe and couldn’t see.

  She made an abortive movement to reach up, to pull the covers away from her head.

  That was when she discovered that she was tied up.

  The notion was so unbelievable that Ronnie had to test it. For a moment she closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind.

 

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