Page 77 of The Senator's Wife

“Emmy, I’m so sorry,” Athena said, rushing to her and extending her open arms to the girl.

Emmy pushed her away. “What are you talking about? Sorry for what?”

Camille put her arm around her niece’s shoulders. “Who are these men, and where is my sister-in-law?” She straightened to her full height and looked down at Athena.

One of the men stepped forward. “I’m Detective Monroe, and this is Detective Zelinski. We’d like to talk to you.” He steered the three women to the sofa, and when they were seated, his gaze rested on Emmy. “I’m very sorry to tell you that your mother is dead. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“No,” Emmy cried. “No!” she repeated, shrieking.

“How did she die? When?” Camille stood, her voice cold as ice.

Detective Monroe flipped back a page on the pad he held and, looking down at what was written there, began speaking. “Athena Karras, Mrs. Montgomery’s healthcare worker, discovered her bodyat approximately 5a.m.this morning when she went to check on her. She was unable to wake her. It appeared to her then that Mrs. Montgomery was not breathing, and when she touched her body, it was cold. She attempted to administer CPR, to no avail. Upon further examination, Ms. Karras determined that she had expired and called 911 at 5:22. A bottle of pills next to her bed will be taken for analysis.” He looked up from his notes. “Your mother’s body will be released to the family after the medical examiner’s evaluation is completed—most likely no more than twenty-four to forty-eight hours from now,” he said, closing the notepad.

The three of them sat without speaking. Rosemary was still trying to take it all in when Athena came over and knelt in front of Emmy. “It happened sometime in the night. When I went into her room this morning, I couldn’t wake her. She wasn’t breathing, Emmy. I tried CPR, but it didn’t help. That’s when I called 911.”

“I don’t understand. How did she die?” Emmy’s eyes were red and puffy, and her tearstained face mottled.

“They’re not sure yet exactly what happened. But I found a bottle of pain pills…oxycodone…by her bedside. I don’t know if she got confused and took too many, or what happened,” Athena explained patiently.

Emmy sprang up from the sofa and glared at Athena. “That makes no sense. Why didn’tyougive her the pain medicine? Why was it just left there by the side of her bed? And why would she be so confused that she’d take an overdose of pain pills? It’s ludicrous. You’re lying!”

“She had an early dinner, and then told me she wanted to sleep and not to disturb her until the morning. Emmy, please, listen,” Athena said, rising to face her. “You’ve not been here to see the steep decline in your mother’s condition. She was losing her memory, having hallucinations. She was terrified of what might come next. She wasn’t herself.”

“Where is she?” Emmy said, choking the words out. “I want to see her.”

“Her body has been taken to the medical examiner’s office for a forensic evaluation,” the detective said.

Rosemary stared at him in incredulity. Her body? Forensic evaluation? Could his words to Emmy be any colder or more brutal? The poor girl’s face turned white, and she looked like she was going to be sick. Rosemary hated herself for not having insisted upon bringing to light all she’d discovered earlier. If she had, Sloane would probably still be alive.

“Does Whit know?” Emmy asked.

“Yes. He’s on his way back from Richmond, but I haven’t had any updates. I can call his office and find out if you’d like,” Athena said.

“I want to see my mother. Now,” Emmy said, ignoring her.

Rosemary saw the two men exchange a look, and finally Detective Monroe nodded. “Fine. You can follow us to the ME’s office. Ms. Karras identified the body, but as a family member, we’d like your identification as well.”

- 62 -

WHIT

When Athena called Whit to let him know that Sloane was dead, he had immediately checked out of the hotel and begun the drive back to DC. He was glad that he hadn’t been there to see Sloane’s dead body lying in their bed or seen them carrying her from the house. Emmy was probably on her way to the morgue right about now to see her mother’s body.

Life was going to be different without her. So much had changed. He thought back to his initial election to Congress and when he’d first met Robert. The senator had become first a mentor and eventually a valued friend to the new House member, coaching and educating him on all things political. Robert had gone over his speeches with him, even giving Whit access to his own speechwriters when Whit ran for Virginia’s newly vacant Senate seat.

Robert had done a lot for him, he admitted, but he’d gone too far when he’d taken Peg’s side. That had infuriated Whit. Who did Robert think he was, anyway, this rich senator who had generation after generation of wealth and patrician lineage behind him? What did he know about growing up on the edge, always feeling like you didn’t quite fit in, wondering every year if your parents would be able to afford your private school tuition, taking charity from friends’ families when they invited you to stay in their summer vacation homes or winter ski chalets? No one who hadn’t lived it could understand what it was like to know you were less than, to feel like you were pretending to be something you were not and waiting to be discovered for the fraud you were.

“Shit,” he said aloud as he pulled up to the house. The damnreporters were milling around outside. Whit stopped the car and got out as the reporters swarmed around him.

“Please,” he said, “we’ll have a statement for you later, but I would be grateful if you would give us some time for privacy while we deal with this tragedy.”

“So sorry for your loss, Senator,” a young female reporter said. “But could I ask you one question?”

Whit hid his fury and his expression remained bland from years of practice hiding his true feelings from the public. “Perhaps later. Thank you,” he said, getting back into the car. “Ignorant bitch,” he said to himself.

He pulled up the driveway and, getting out, he stood for a moment looking up at the house he loved so much. Now all he had to do was get through the next few days with equanimity, and all would be well.

—

---