Page 35 of The Senator's Wife

“Not at all, but I will say the old-boy network likes to keep their secrets. That said, I really don’t think you have anything to worry about. But I’ll make some discreet inquiries. See what I can find.”

“Thank you. Mac said he may be onto more evidence but needs more time. I’m not going to let this go.”

“How is Mac? Still living in the same place?” Faye asked. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen him.”

Rosemary nodded. “Yes, he loves that old house. I keep telling him the neighborhood’s not safe anymore, but he refuses to move.”

Rosemary stood. “Coffee should be ready now. And your favorite—pumpkin muffins baked this morning. Be right back.”

As Rosemary picked up the tray from the counter, she heard thedoorbell ring and the chime of the front door. She frowned. That was strange, she thought, but then maybe Faye forgot something in her car and the driver had brought it. With the tray in her hands, she walked into the hallway.

“Faye, is someone here?” she called. As she rounded the corner, she saw a hooded figure and Faye splayed out on the floor, her eyes closed. She froze.

“Who…” It took a moment for her brain to register what was happening. Rosemary’s hands tightened on the tray as she tried to decide what to do. Before she took another step, everything seemed to move in double time, and she dropped the tray as her hands went up to try to remove the ones gripping her shoulders. She felt herself being roughly pulled forward. The last thing she saw was the marble floor as her head came crashing down to meet it.

- 27 -

SLOANE

Whit had been working late the past week, and Athena had asked for the night off tonight. Even thought it was still early, at a little past seven, Sloane decided to turn in for the night. Her head felt like it might explode, and her stomach was so upset she’d barely touched her dinner.

After she washed up, she went to plug her phone into the charger, but couldn’t find it. She could have sworn she’d put it on her nightstand when she’d come upstairs earlier, but she couldn’t face going up and down those stairs again. She was on her own since Whit was still at the office and Athena had already left. He was working late nights more and more often lately, but she pushed her concerns away. Crawling into bed, she pulled up the covers and was out in minutes.

The next morning, an insistent tapping at her door woke her and she sat up.

“Yes?” she called.

Athena’s voice came through the door. “Sloane, I’m so sorry to disturb you, but there’s a call for you on your cell. I wouldn’t have answered, but it kept ringing. It’s Camille.”

Sloane glanced at the bedside clock: 7a.m.“Just a minute,” she said, moving slowly from the bed to a standing position and taking hold of the cane. She went to the door, opening it a crack. “Where was my phone?”

“On the kitchen counter.” Athena cleared her throat, handing the phone over. “She sounds pretty upset. You’d better take the call.” Sloane took the phone and shut the door. “Camille?”

Camille’s voice came over the line, breathless and shaky. “Sloane! I’m at the hospital. I’ve been trying to reach you all night!”

“I’m sorry, I left my phone downstairs. What’s wrong?” She and Robert had dispensed with a house phone a few years ago.

“It’s Mom.”

Sloane’s heart began to beat faster. “What about her?”

“She was attacked! I got a call last night from Lawrence, her caretaker. He went back to the house unexpectedly when he heard a storm was brewing. Had to bring the furniture in. Anyway, the door was ajar when he got there, and someone pushed past him and ran away as he entered. Faye Chambers was visiting, and when Lawrence got there they were both on the floor. Someone had assaulted them.”

“Oh my God! That’s terrible. Are they okay?”

“Mom’s in surgery now. Faye’s conscious but they’re checking her out. I’ve been at the hospital all night. They don’t know if Mom’s going to make it.”

“We’re on our way. You’re at Sibley?”

“Yes.”

Whit walked into the room. “What’s going on?”

“We have to get to the hospital! Rosemary’s hurt. She’s in surgery now.” Sloane swung around, wincing in pain at the sudden movement.

“Here, let me help you. I know you’re upset, but rushing and hurting yourself won’t do any good.” He put an arm against her back, steering her to the bathroom. “Are you sure it’s a good idea for you to go to the hospital? You know the steroids suppress your immune system.”

“I have to go. I’ll wear a mask.”

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