Page 40 of The Senator's Wife

“Good morning, Senator. You can have a seat here. He should be finished any minute.”

“Thank you.” Whit sat in one of the blue-and-gold silk chairs. Picking up a copy of theCongressional Record,he began leafing through it.

After a few minutes, the door to the inner office opened, and Whit saw that Frank Horner, a congressman from Louisiana, was already seated. Whit nodded to him.

“Whit,” Bishop thundered, extending his hand. “Come in, come in.”

Whit followed him into the elegant room with its floor-to-ceiling windows and Oriental rugs. The vice president took a seat behind the historic Roosevelt desk, motioned to a chair for Whit, and picked up the ever-present unlit cigar that he constantly rolled between his thumb and forefinger.

Whit got right to the point. “Peterson found a new contractor to work on the HUD housing projects. After that idiot caused thefire that killed all those people two years ago, Peterson made sure to really vet the new contractor.”

“I hope that’s true, Whit. We’re way behind schedule because of all this. Fred Sawyer’s been badgering me, and that son of a bitch can badger like no one else,” Bishop said.

“Tell me about it. But after all, this has got to be made right. We can’t let it all come tumbling down. We have to rebuild. And we will,” Whit responded.

For the next half hour, the three of them discussed a strategy and a backup plan, until they were satisfied with what their next moves would be, which would have to take place at a later date and in a more secure location. Whit rose, leaned over the desk, and shook Bishop’s hand. “Good meeting, Mr. Vice President. Thank you.” He and Horner walked out together, but Whit stopped at the secretary’s desk. “By the way, Shelly, I have tickets for four toHamiltonat the Kennedy Center and thought you might like to have them. I remember your saying how much you enjoy the theater. Take a few friends.” He removed an envelope from his inside pocket and handed it to her.

“Oh wow, Senator. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome. Enjoy.”

Whit got back to the office in time for his meeting with Fred, who was waiting when he arrived. He reached out to shake the older man’s hand. Whit appraised Fred, his eyes resting on the bulging flesh hanging over his crocodile Hermès belt, making him look nine months pregnant. The bald head and pallid skin were dotted with brown age spots, and Whit thought he’d rather be dead than ever look like that. Madelyn often joked that Fred hadn’t been able to set eyes on his flaccid penis in years. She also bitched about the erectile dysfunction drugmakers that forced her to service her repulsive husband. Oh well, she certainly made up for it by spending his money, Whit thought. “Hey, Fred, how are you?”

“I’ve been better,” Fred growled.

“Why don’t we sit over there?” Whit said, leading him to a small round table with six chairs around it. “Can I get you a drink?”

Fred took off his coat and threw it onto a sofa. “Diet Coke,” he said, taking a seat.

Whit grabbed one of the dozen cans of Diet Coke he always had stocked in the minifridge for Fred’s visits, even though it obviously had no effect on his weight. Fred grabbed the can, popped the tab, and took a long, gurgling swallow, ignoring the glass Whit had placed on the table for him.

“Look.” Fred belched and then went on. “If you say we can fix this, then fine. But if not, your campaign war chest is going to go to shit. I only back winners. You should know that by now.”

Whit was doing his best to contain his fury at this old bastard whose money and power could instantly make or break anyone’s political fortunes. If voters knew who the real power players in Washington were, they’d see that representing the people mattered little to their elected officials.

“There’s nothing to worry about, Fred. I met with the vice president this morning, and he’s working on it too.”

“Bishop’s getting dotty. He can’t remember what he had for breakfast. Should have never accepted the vice presidential position at his age.”

Whit found Fred’s comments amusing, seeing as he was at least six years older than the VP. “I haven’t seen that at all, Fred. The plan he outlined to me this morning was cogent and well thought out. I think you’re underestimating him.”

Fred’s lips puckered. “All right. You’ve never let me down in the past, so if you say it’s all under control, I’m going to trust you on that.” He chugged the rest of his soda, glanced at his watch, and rose from the chair. “You keep me posted. I want to know about any, I meanany,developments. You hear?”

“Of course, Fred. I hear you.”

“Good.” Fred grabbed his coat and walked to the door, stopping just before turning the handle. “Gotta run. Dinner date with my wife, who seems uncharacteristically distracted lately.”

- 32 -

SLOANE

Sloane’s phone rang and she saw it was the captain calling her back. “Jim, hi.”

“You got lucky. I found your girl’s car on the first camera reel. Parked right in front of Kramers if you can believe it. The film showed her parking at 7:45 and leaving at 9:00.”

“That’s great, Jim. I was being paranoid for nothing. I hope you’ll forget about this.”

“Of course.”

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