T. Bunn - Drummer in the Dark

The door was opened by an attractive young woman. Not in Valerie’s class, neither in looks nor style. But good-looking just the same. Her skin held the translucent quality possessed by a very few blonds. No makeup. Silk T-shirt of midnight blue, matching linen slacks, and soft leather boots. Nothing Washington or tony about this woman. Perhaps a few years younger than Valerie, with a timeless poise all her own. “Can I help you?”

Valerie spoke for them. “We’re here to see Esther Hutchings.”

“She’s busy right now.” She stepped aside and led them into the parlor. They could hear angry voices in the distance. “Would you like to have a seat?”

Once more, Valerie said for them both, “Thank you, but we won’t be staying long.”

“That is most certainly the case.” Esther Hutchings did not so much step through the swinging door as blaze into the room. She ignored Valerie entirely as she careened towards Wynn. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“Hello, Esther.” As the rear door swung back in the opposite direction, Wynn caught sight of a vaguely familiar figure seated at the kitchen table.

“You are an utterly appalling man.”

“I’ll go if you want. I just thought it would be nice to. .” Then he caught sight of the two figures in the back room. “Is that Carter Styles?”

“Nice? Did I truly hear you use that word?”

Carter rose from his chair, neither welcome nor warmth to his gaze. He stood in his stockinged feet, the newspaper dangling from one hand. The figure in the bed did not move.

Esther Hutchings closed the gap between them. “Of all the words that I might use to describe your actions, nice is certainly not among them. Appalling, self-centered, loathsome, greedy, false. . Shall I go on?”

“I’ll leave.”

“Perhaps I should have told you this at Dianne’s funeral. I wanted to. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it.” She took another fraction of a step closer, until he had no option but acknowledge the stretched features, the flaming gaze. “Dianne knew she was ill. But instead of going in for treatment, she ignored the warning signs until it was far too late. She knew how you loathed weakness. But you left her anyway. You spotted the frailty, and you fled. She might have needed more than you were willing to give. Isn’t that right.”

“No.”

“You sacrificed everything on the altar of your own success. You murdered her in all but name.”

Carter said quietly from the other room, “Esther.”

“And if that weren’t enough, now you’ve accepted a nomination the governor had no business making. But it was convenient, wasn’t it. The fact that it desecrates my husband’s good name means nothing to anybody.”

“That’s not true.”

“Oh, spare me. And to find you here on our tiny patch of hallowed ground. .” She inched forward. “You are the utter embodiment of evil in my eyes.”

“Esther,” Carter repeated. “Enough.”

“Yes, dear,” said the woman pushing through the kitchen door. Wynn recognized her then. Senator Kay Trilling. Perfect. The senator went on, “Do calm down. Graham can hear you. Not to mention our other guest.”

Esther backed off a fraction and turned to Valerie. “Do I know you?”

“Valerie Lawry, Mrs. Hutchings. I merely wished to stop by and express my condolences. I admired your husband very much.”

“I doubt the feeling was reciprocated.” This from Trilling. When Esther turned her way, the senator added, “Ms. Lawry is one of our K Street friends.”

Esther turned back, not to Valerie but to Wynn. “You would bring this hired gun into my house?”

Wynn found minor solace in retreating toward the door. “Good-bye, Esther. I’m sorry. For everything.”

The door slammed behind them and echoed in his brain during the silent ride back downstairs. When the elevator deposited them in the lobby, Valerie said, “You look pale as a ghost.” When he did not respond, she continued, “Listen, my dear. Esther Hutchings is bitter over the loss of her social roost. I am sorry she took it out on you. But there it is. What shall be remembered is that you kept your cool, you paid your respects, you did your duty.”

He wondered how the flames had managed not to touch her. “I’m sorry. I really need to get back to my hotel. There’s no way I’d be good company tonight.”

“I’ll let you off this one time,” she said. “But only if you agree to do dinner with me tomorrow.”

“I can’t. I’m attending a conference in College Park and I don’t know when I’ll be done.”

“Not that silly thing on debt relief. The issue is utterly passé.”

“I said I’d go.”

“Washington is like Hollywood on that score. ’Let’s do lunch’ is not an invitation but a polite form of farewell.” When he did not respond, she pressed, “Sunday, then.”

“Sure.”

Valerie showed faint amusement over his shaken state. “You really must grow thicker skin if you are going to swim the Washington social waters.” She motioned toward the car. “Can I at least offer you a lift?”

But Wynn was already moving away, searching for the nearest shadow dark enough to swallow him whole.

After the visitors departed, Jackie took a seat by the back wall. The air was sharp with the smell of scorched flesh. She’d had a lifetime’s experience avoiding the aftershocks of anger and wanted nothing more than to be away.

But the room was no longer a dangerous place. The atmosphere, though still highly charged, was not unfriendly. Senator Trilling walked over and hugged Esther fiercely. The two women clung together for a long moment. Then the senator stepped back and spoke in a voice entirely different from the one she had used upon her arrival. “Are you all right, dear?”

“Nothing is all right.” Broken and weary now. “Are you attending tomorrow’s conference?”

“I can’t. We’re working flat out this weekend, finishing up last-minute details. I leave for Cairo on Thursday.”

Carter Styles remained standing between the living room and the immobile figure in the bed. “Wynn Bryant is going to be in College Park.”

That turned both women around. “What?”

“A pair of OEOB flunkeys put it to him Wednesday. Wanted him to go to Cairo, too. He accepted only for tomorrow.”

The senator planted fists on both hips. “And precisely when were you planning on telling us?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Carter replied, utterly unfazed. “You were the one who came in here with both guns blazing.”

Kay Trilling glanced toward Jackie, showing the evening’s first hint of uncertainty. Esther asked Carter, “Why didn’t you mention this to me?”

“You already had enough on your plate. I had no idea Wynn was going to show up. Besides, right now you need to be focusing on tomorrow.”

Kay Trilling turned back. “Tomorrow?”

Esther looked stricken by the coming confession. “We’re moving Graham to a hospital in Fairfax. They want to do some new scans. If it turns out to be what they think, they’ll operate immediately.”

“Oh, Esther.”

“Apparently he’s not responding as he should. His deterioration suggests something other than a stroke. They don’t hold out much hope, but it’s better than seeing him locked inside the prison of his own body. You know how he would hate this.”

Kay asked faintly, “What are his chances?”

Esther merely stared at the figure lying in the bed.

Carter spoke for them both. “She’s doing the right thing, Kay.”

Jackie watched as the senator walked to the bed, settled a hand upon the inert shoulder, and said, “I pray for you each and every day, Graham.”