Page 88 of Marriage (Red, White &) Blues

“High profile? Like movie stars?”

“I think so, but also?—”

“Political candidates?” I asked. “Kind of like Brock has Candice.”

“Kind of, yes. Should I call her back?”

“Well, now you have to. I have to know why this woman called us.”

“I do too,” he said, pressing the highlighted number on the voicemail screen and waited to connect. He pressed thespeakerphonebutton when she answered.

“Hello?” she asked.

“Hi. This is Blake Parker.”

“Is your wife with you?” she asked.

I spoke up. “I’m here.”

“Good,good…” she said, and my mind immediately went to Scarlett O’Hara—no… Dolly Parton. Now that woman was a national treasure. If anyone deserved—I caught myself drifting again and forced my brain to focus when Murielle startedspeaking again. “I want to apologize for the things that have been blasted over the television today.” She paused then went on quickly, “I had nothing to do with any of it, but I know who did.”

“Go on,” Blake said.

“We manage the PR for Raymond Hill.”

“Raymond Hill?” I asked. “The candidate who’d run against Brockton Parker for the party’s nomination,” I finished.

“Yes, I found out this morning that the campaign hired a Lorelei Branch to befriend Mrs. Parker,” she said.

“But why? Brock already got the candidacy.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said to me. “You seem like a good person and I have no idea what his goal is. Maybe he hopes to embarrass Mr. Parker enough that he’d step down, opening the door to take the candidacy himself?”

“Is it safe for you to be calling us?” Blake asked. And it occurred to me that maybe she was putting her livelihood in jeopardy.

“I could lose my job,” she replied, then let out a slow breath before going on. “May I speak freely?”

“Please,” Blake answered.

“My beautiful grandmother would roll over in her grave if she ever found out that I picked a job over doing what was right.”

“She would?” I asked because in my experience, most people couldn’t care less about their dead grandmother’s opinion. It’s all about the Benjamins, right?

“Bless your heart,” she replied and somehow, I knew that wasn’t complimentary. “You don’t know much about good Christian, Southern grandmothers.”

“I’m afraid I don’t.”

“I hope to hone my ability to guilt as well as she did. You know, so I can haunt my future grandchildren, too.”

Despite the fact that I’d been targeted by a corrupt politician—for reasons yet unknown—I laughed like a crazy person. Theidea of this Dolly Parton sound-alike, saying ‘Bless your heart’ as a cutdown, haunting her future grandchildren just undid me.

“Is she okay?” Murielle asked.

Blake knew me so well. He read me. And despite his anger, started laughing, too. “She’s fine,” he said while I shouted, “Aces.”

The man shut down his laugh, clearing his throat. “Thank you for calling.”

“I’ll send you a file with the evidence,” she said not sounding convinced of either of our sanity. “It’s more than just a phone conversation.”

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