Page 78 of The Senator's Wife

It had been a hellacious week. Between the police investigation into Sloane’s death and the constant barrage of the press, the family had been through the wringer. Throngs of reporters blocked the driveway entrance for hours in hopes of getting a statement from him. Emmy was an emotional wreck.

The medical examiner had released Sloane’s body after he had completed the autopsy and found oxycodone, Bactrim, and belladonna, along with all the other medicines she’d been taking for her lupus. Clearly, the oxy overdose was the cause of death. The police had questioned all of them, but they were focusing their questions especially on Athena, as she’d been both the last person to see Sloane alive and the one who found her body.

Whit and Emmy had finished making the arrangements at the funeral home. The funeral would be in a week. Sloane’s body was still with the coroner, as the cause of death was not yet determined to be accidental or the result of foul play. When the toxicologyreport came out, it would become apparent that someone had been making her sick. That was where Athena would come in.

They stood outside together, next to Emmy’s rental car. “Before you go back to your grandmother’s house, why don’t you stay and have dinner with me,” Whit said. “I could use the company. And besides, this is your home. You should be staying here.”

She cast a derisive look at the driveway and Athena’s Prius. “Why is Athena still here? Mom’s gone, and I think she killed her. I can’t believe you’re letting her stay.”

Whit sighed. He couldn’t very well tell Emmy the truth—that he had to handle Athena with kid gloves so as not to be implicated in Sloane’s death. “I know, honey. She’ll be moving out in a few days. The detectives asked me to encourage her to stay until they clear her. She has dual citizenship, so we don’t want her disappearing. I can’t stand it either, but I have to pretend that we’re on good terms.”

“Well, they’d better figure it out soon. I need to go,” she said, getting into the car.

Athena wasn’t downstairs when Whit walked into the house. He went upstairs and knocked on her bedroom door.

He heard shuffling behind the closed door before it opened, and she stood there in a belted robe. “Whit.” Athena smiled at him.

“May I come in?” he asked.

“Of course.” She swung the door wider. “Please, sit,” Athena said, pointing at the only chair as she settled herself on the edge of her bed.

“You’ve been so wonderful, Athena. So understanding. You’re the one who’s kept me going through all of this. I want to do something to show you how very grateful I am to you and how much I care for you.” He pressed his lips together. “There are some things I want you to have.”

Athena’s gaze flickered, and she said nothing.

Whit got up from the chair and held out his hand to her. “Comewith me,” he said, leading her to his bedroom, the same room in which Sloane had died.

“What are we doing here?” she asked, her eyes darting around the room.

Whit strode to the bed, where he’d placed a small box. He removed the lid and turned to Athena. “These are some things I want to give you as a token of my appreciation for all you did. And for freeing Sloane from her pain.”

Athena stood still, hesitating.

“Please. Come and see,” Whit said.

She crossed to the bed, peering into the box, and gave Whit a puzzled look. “What is this?”

He took out a black silk kimono embroidered in silver and gold thread and covered in brilliantly colored floral designs, laying it out on the bed. Next, he lifted a blue velvet box, opening it to reveal a magnificent pair of pink conch pearl earrings.

“These are beautiful, Whit.”

“I’ve chosen these because they have meaning. That is a Japanese wedding kimono. And the earrings…the pearl earrings are from Greece.” He took Athena’s hands in his and searched her face, hoping she would accept them.

Finally, she lowered her gaze and ran her hand across the silky fabric of the kimono. “Thank you,” she said in a quiet voice.

He handed her the box with the earrings. “Get some rest now. We’ve been through a lot. Let’s get through the next few days, and then we can make our plans.”

They said good night and parted. Whit undressed, showered, and settled onto the cool, crisp sheets, relieved to bring this stressful day to a close. He had fooled them all. He fell asleep with a smile on his face.

- 63 -

WHIT

Whit had moved back into the main bedroom. He’d had it professionally cleaned and aired out, and all of Sloane’s belongings boxed up for Emmy to go through later. He was surprised by how emotional the day had turned out to be and had gone to bed after he’d given Athena the gifts. It felt strange being in the large bed by himself, and when he first awakened this morning, he half expected to see Sloane’s slim shape underneath the blankets. He was eager to get back to work and put this all behind him. Being in this big house alone save for the staff was giving him way too much time to think. In a few more days, they would meet with their estate attorney, and Sloane’s will would be read. He already knew its contents, since they’d done their estate planning together, but it would mean that everything was officially over.

He thought back to the past two weeks and smiled. He’d orchestrated everything beautifully. He was finally going to be his own man, with unlimited wealth and power at his fingertips, and he wouldn’t have to answer to anyone. All of Sloane’s money now belonged to him, and it would make him an even more powerful force to be reckoned with in DC. The White House had always been a dream of his—now it was a distinct possibility. It was a shame that he had to cast Athena aside. He would have enjoyed consummating their relationship, but there would be plenty of women for that. He needed someone to take the fall, and she was getting what she deserved, after all. What kind of a healthcare worker kills her own patient? She’d probably done it before, so actually Whit was doing the world a favor.

He had fooled everyone. Especially Sloane. After Peg hadaccidentally shot Robert, Whit had seized the opportunity and grabbed her hand. Turning the gun toward her head, he’d slipped his finger over hers and pulled the trigger. Robert was dead and, in that instant, Whit knew he would take his place by Sloane’s side. All he had to do was get rid of Peg. He had never planned for his marriage to Sloane to be forever. He didn’t know how in the beginning, but eventually an accident would befall her. But then a better plan revealed itself. It had crystallized when they met with her doctor before her hip surgery, and Porter explained how certain antibiotics could cause a lupus flare. It wasn’t hard for Whit to get his hands on Bactrim and change out her pills. Then all he had to do was look up things that mimicked brain involvement to make her believe she was losing her mind. Belladonna did the trick. It would cause hallucinations, and his research revealed where he could get it. He’d swiped the bottle of dilating eye drops from his eye doctor’s office at a recent visit. Those were easy enough to add to her tea, or whatever she happened to be drinking.

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