Dutch and Gina: The Power of Love
Page 8
“How did she die?” was the only question she could will herself to ask.
“We won’t be certain until the autopsy comes out,” Prim said, “but the police is prepared to make an initial ruling of homicide,” she said dispassionately.
“Homicide?” LaLa said in a tone of shock and looked at Gina.
Gina could hardly believe what she was hearing. “She was murdered?” she said, her face now a mask of agony. “She was found in my husband’s hotel room murdered?”
“Yes ma’am. Allegedly from some kind of blunt force trauma.”
“But where was he? Is he alright?”
“He’s fine, ma’am.”
“Where was he?”
Primrose looked at Ed Drake.
“He was apparently in the room with her. That’s all we gotten from Crader thus far.”
Gina couldn’t think straight. “And she died of a blow to the head?”
Ed nodded. “That’s correct.”
“And she was found, with this injury, in Dutch’s room?”
“In his hotel room, yes ma’am.”
Gina shook her head. This made no sense. “But I don’t understand,” she said, her face a mask of puzzlement. “What was Liz Sinclair doing in his hotel room anyway?”
Ed exhaled. Manny ran his hand through his buzz-cut, spiky hair. He was a man in his fifties, big belly, sloppily attired, and had former Marine written all over him. Political scandals distressed the hell out of him and she could see his distress on full display right now.
Ed Drake, on the other hand, was around Manny’s age, was former military too, but hadn’t ditched his training and remained calm under fire. “We don’t have those answers yet, Gina,” he said, patting her hand. “But we will soon, I promise you that. We’ll know the whole story.”
“But,” Gina was so anguished that LaLa stood up and went and stood behind her, placing her hands on her shoulders. “I still don’t understand.”
“It’s going to be okay, G,” she said to her best friend. “We don’t know what happened, but we know Dutch wasn’t mixed up in it.”
“Right,” Gina said, quick to embrace the first sane comment she had heard since the president’s people entered her office. Then she looked at Ed. “Where’s Dutch now, and why hasn’t he phoned me?”
Ed looked at Manny. It was obvious that Manny had made the no contact decision, a decision Ed apparently disagreed with. But in times like these, where there was even a whiff of a political scandal brewing, Manny’s authority far exceeded Ed’s.
“He’s still in consultation with the authorities,” Manny informed her. “But please don’t worry, Gina, please don’t worry. The White House Counsel has been dispatched to San Francisco and will carefully orchestrate the president’s return.”
Gina frowned. “You make it sound as if he’s been arrested.”
“No, of course he hasn’t been arrested.”
“Then what do you mean by orchestrating his return? Why does his return to DC need to be orchestrated?”
“Why?” Manny asked with an angry grin. “Because a woman was found dead in his hotel room, that’s why.”
“And that’s an awful thing, yes it is,” Gina made clear, “but you’re acting as if he may have had a hand in her death. And if that’s the reason for this orchestration you’re talking about, then let me disabuse you of that thought right now. Dutch didn’t kill her. He didn’t have anything to do with her death.”
“I don’t know what happened, and neither do you, first of all,” Manny said with that obnoxious, nice-nasty smile of his Gina never liked. “And second of all,” he went on, “we cannot let the press think for a second that this incident is occupying a moment of our time.”
Gina stared at him. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, I’m serious.”
“A woman is dead, has been found murdered in Dutch’s hotel room, and you’re worried about what the gotdamn press will think?”
Manny was just as affronted, however. “I’m worried about your husband’s legacy and the future of the Democratic Party. Forgive me for being political about it, but that’s my job. Now if you don’t like it, you can always---”
“That’s enough, Manny,” Christian said and everybody in the room, especially Gina, looked at him. “This is a stressful time for all of us. But you will not disrespect the president’s wife.”
Gina wanted to smile. Dutch always said Christian would eventually get his mojo. But she couldn’t smile. Not with knowing so little and not hearing a word from Dutch.
“You’re right,” Manny said, although everybody in the room knew he wanted to throttle Christian. “I apologize, Mrs. Harber. I didn’t mean to sound disrespectful.”
But Gina wasn’t thinking about Manny Levine. “Why hasn’t Dutch phoned me?” she wanted to know. “This isn’t like him.”
“He’s been advised against it.”
“What?” LaLa said, astounded. “Who would advise him against calling his own wife?”
“I did,” Manny admitted. “The White House Counsel has. Prim has.”
Gina looked at Primrose. Her look was more circumspect and far less dramatic than Manny’s or even Ed’s. “Why would you advise the president against phoning me?”
“Because we don’t know what to expect in this matter. A dead woman was found in the hotel room of a sitting president, with that president in that room with her, this is unprecedented. We don’t want him to speak to anyone right now. We don’t want him to have to deny or confirm anything right now.”
But it was only one part of her speech that Gina honed in on. “ When you say he was in the room with her, what do you mean? The bedroom, the living room, the bathroom, which?”
Primrose looked at Manny.
“All three,” Manny said. “Crader claims the police found evidence that Liz had been in the livingroom, the bedroom, and the bathroom, where she was ultimately discovered.”
“The bedroom? As in the bed?”
“The information is sketchy at best, Gina,” Ed began, but Gina wasn’t having it.
“Then un-sketch it,” she ordered. “Are the police saying that they have evidence that that woman had been in Dutch’s bed?”
“Yes,” Primrose said.
Gina shook her head, began staring at nothingness. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand this at all!”
“That’s exactly why I didn’t want the president speaking to anyone. There’s too much to explain.”
“But you said he was speaking with the San Francisco police,” LaLa interjected.
“He’s with them, yes, and their asking questions, but he’s not answering. At least he’s been advised not to answer. According to Senator McKenzie he’s too stunned to answer questions, anyway, to be honest with you.”
This had to be a nightmare for Dutch, Gina thought. She and Liz Sinclair were never friends, but Dutch loved the woman and saw something good in her even when nobody else could be bothered to look that deep. He had to not only be stunned, but devastated.
And maybe even guilty? she privately wondered.
“Ma’am,” Christian said, coming toward Gina with his cell phone extended. “It’s the president.”
Gina had heard Christian’s cell phone ringing, but just figured his new bride was calling him. She never even thought it could be Dutch. She moved to grab for it but Manny moved to take possession of it, too.
“I’ll take that call,” he said forcefully.
“Oh, no you will not,” Gina said with even more force, rising to her feet, and Christian immediately snatched his phone away to protect it from Manny’s intercept.
Gina took the phone and headed for the exit.
“But where are you going, ma’am?” the Attorney General stood and asked her.
“To talk to my husband,” Gina replied without looking back.
She, in fact, wasn’t thinking about Primrose Grier, or Ed, or Manny or anybody else. She needed to hear it directly from Dutch.
>
She entered an empty office a few doors down from her office, closed and locked the door behind her, and then leaned against it.
“Dutch?” she said with anguish in her voice.
Dutch was in the presidential limousine, his motorcade making its way through the streets of San Francisco. The media mob, with helicopters and paparazzi following as close as they possibly could, turning his departure into a rock star event. He was slouched down in his seat, his entire body drained and emotionally spent. But hearing Gina’s voice again warmed his heart. “Hello there,” he said.
“Are you okay?” Gina asked him.
“No,” he said honestly. “But I will be.”
“She’s dead? Liz is dead?”
Dutch closed his eyes. The pain was still real. “Yes,” he said.
“Oh, babe. I’m so sorry. I didn’t care for the woman but I never would have wished anything like this to happen to her.”
“I know. Babe, I know.”
“What happened? They said she was found in your hotel room. Is that true?”
Dutch hesitated. “Yes.”
“But what was she doing in your hotel room, Dutch? This makes no sense.”
“It’s a long story. They don’t want me going into details over any phones. We’ll discuss it when I get back tomorrow.”
Gina was stunned. “Tomorrow?” she asked. “You aren’t coming back today? Where are you?”
“I’m leaving San Francisco now. I still have to be at that economic forum in Seattle, remember?”
“But how can they expect you to attend some economic forum with something like this going on? Manny’s making you do it, isn’t he?”
“Nobody’s making me do anything. I just agree that we need to go on with business as usual for right now.”
“But what if the press gets wind of this? They’ll be asking you all kinds of crazy questions.”
The press already had wind of it, Dutch thought, as he glanced out of his limo and saw the circling helicopters. But his poor wife hadn’t even thought to turn on a television set yet.
“How’s Little Walt?” he asked her.
Gina had to take a moment to compose herself. “He’s fine. It’s you I’m worried about.”
“Don’t be,” Dutch assured her. “Please.”
“Can I come to you?”
Dutch’s heart ached. He wanted to hold her so badly he trembled. “No,” he said. “I need you to stay there and take care of my children. Make sure Jade’s okay when they begin making it all out to be the story of the century. She’s not used to the onslaught the way we are.”
“I’m not sure if I’m used to this kind of onslaught,” Gina admitted.
Dutch’s jaw tightened. Once again he was putting her through yet another crazy day in his world. “Yeah, well, it is what it is,” he said. “Nothing I can do about it now. I just want you to be strong for me, babe, okay? Take care of our family.”
Gina nodded. “Okay.”
“Crader’s on his way back to DC now.”
“But why?” Gina asked. “I felt better knowing he was there with you. Now you’re all alone.”
“I’m hardly alone,” Dutch attempted to say lightheartedly, although he’d never felt more alone in his life. “I wanted him there for you and the children, and for Christian and Loretta. He’s the only man I know strong enough to handle a tough brood like you guys.”
Gina smiled weakly. “Yeah, we’re a regular terror group.”
Dutch smiled too, although the situation prevented any real joy. “I miss you so much, and want to be by your side right now, but I need you to bear with me, babe, all right?”
“But this keeping up appearances just drives me bonkers. But I’ll do it. I’m just amazed that you can even think straight right now. But I’ll hold the fort down here.”
Dutch smiled. “That’s my girl.”
“And you keep it together for me.”
He nodded. “I promise you I will.”
“And Dutch,” Gina said and he braced himself.
“Yes, dear?”
“I miss you more.”
Dutch smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” And he killed the call.
He leaned his head back, his heart filled with so much love for that woman. Not because she had said that cute little line about how she missed him more. But because she didn’t even ask if he was guilty of anything at all. She was a treasure, a precious sapphire that he often felt he didn’t deserve.
Then he thought about Liz, and her awful end, and his joy turned, once again, to pain.
SEVEN
Although Gina was advised by Dutch’s people to continue business as usual around the White House, she couldn’t pull it off. By midday she had called it a day and retired to the Residence where she spent the bulk of her time playing with Little Walt and talking on the phone with Jade, who was very distressed. Christian and LaLa had wanted to hang out in the Residence with her, for moral support, but she had ordered them both to go home, and get some rest. Because tomorrow, when Dutch returned, would probably be even more traumatic.
By nightfall, after she had put Walt to bed and had showered and gone to bed herself, she couldn’t resist any longer. She clicked through the various cable news channels. And the conversations by those know-it-all talking heads were startling. They sat in round tables or one-on-one and pontificated as if they were in that hotel room when it all went down. And Gina knew it was all a bunch of nonsense.
They wanted answers. The president had scheduled a news conference for tomorrow afternoon, to be carried by every network known to man, but that didn’t lessen the speculation for one second. And Gina just laid there and watched it. She wanted Dutch so badly, but she knew the last thing he needed was for her to be crying on the telephone worrying him even more.
But she couldn’t believe the level of speculation so-called journalists were making. They went from questioning why Liz Sinclair was in the president’s hotel room at all, to suggesting she may have been found dead in the president’s bed. Then they shifted gears and began talking about end results, and if authorities could arrest a sitting president and charge him with murder, as if they believed that Dutch Harber, Gina thought angrily, could murder somebody. It was surreal to Gina. And terrifying too.
She turned over, looked at the picture of Dutch on her nightstand, his brilliant smile and big green eyes staring back at her, and all she could do was pray that this nightmare would soon be over. There was a logical explanation for all of it, she was certain there was, and Dutch would explain it all when he returned.
But the waiting was a bear.
The waiting was unbearable.
LaLa King was drying off in the bathroom of her Georgetown home when she heard the doorbell ring. She was, at first, surprised since people rarely came to her home this time of night. But then she quickly put on her bathrobe and hurried to the door.
“Who is it?” she asked as she tied the sash.
“It’s me, La, open up.”
The voice of Crader McKenzie warmed LaLa’s heart. She quickly opened the door.
“Crader,” she said, surprised and thrilled to see him. She knew he was back in town, but he had spent almost all of his time huddled with Dutch’s political and legal staff and by the time he was able to take a break, she had already been ordered to go home.
“I know it’s late, but I wanted to see you.”
“Come in,” LaLa said, and Crader walked in.
As soon as the door closed, and they were toe to toe, Crader placed his hands in his pant pockets and looked LaLa in the eyes.
“I looked for you earlier, but Marge said you were ordered home.”
“I was. Me and Christian both. Gina believes tomorrow, when the president returns, is going to be Washington’s version of insanity. She wanted us rested and ready.”
“Yeah,” Crader agreed, his eyes unable to shield his own fright. He looked down, at the robe she wore, at her revealed cleavage, and he rubbed her
arm. “It will be brutal, I assure you. That’s why I wanted to see you. Make sure you were okay.”
LaLa stared at Crader. Maybe it was the emotions of the scandal, maybe it was the fact that it was him, maybe it was that loneliness that had been creeping back into her life. But for the first time in a long time she didn’t look at Crader McKenzie and see a cheater, a womanizer, a heartbreaker. She just saw Cray, the good man she once believed was the love of her life.
And tears welled up in her big, brown eyes.
“Oh, La,” Crader said heartfelt as he moved up to her and pulled her into his arms. “I know you’re Gina’s best friend and this is tough for you, but please don’t cry. I can’t bear seeing you cry.”
“I’m okay.”
“It’s going to be okay, I promise you.” Then he pulled her back slightly and looked at her. “Dutch and Gina are going to get through this, you hear me? You don’t know Dutch the way I do. There’s not a stronger man alive. He’ll get them through this.”
LaLa nodded her head. “It’s just so much Gina has to go through. And talk about strength, Gina has it in spades, too. She’s a very strong woman. But you should hear those people on those cable news shows. They sound like judge and jury. They sound as if the president murdered that woman!”
“I know,” Crader said, pulling her into his arms again. He then walked her to the sofa, where they sat side by side, his arm still around her.
“And what about Liz?” LaLa asked. “To die in some hotel bathroom.”
“Yeah,” Crader said. He was no fan of Liz Sinclair’s, especially after his weakness for a beautiful body led him to have a sexual encounter with her, but what happened to her was still unbelievable.
“Her parents must be devastated,” LaLa added.
“Oh, I’m sure they are. But don’t cry for them. They’re about as ruthless as Liz was.”
LaLa leaned back, looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“Dutch is planning to have a news conference tomorrow. You know that, right?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Well Ma and Pa Sinclair plan to have one first. They’ve hired attorneys---”
“Already?”
“Already. And they plan to insist the president murdered their poor, unfortunate daughter and they want justice and they want it now. And they also, wink, wink, plan to announce the eventual filing of a wrongful death, billion dollar civil suit. We just got word of that joke a couple hours ago.”