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The Sweetest Summer(130)

By:Susan Donovan


            Richard was suddenly too tired to think.

            “You work for me, now.”

            He heard himself let go with a slow, weary laugh.

            “I know how the old-boy system works. You might be down, but you’ll never be all the way out. You’ll get another law gig somewhere, maybe even transition into life as a lobbyist. So if I ever need you to smooth the path for me in any way, you’ll do it. You owe me that.”

            “Or what, Mary Jane?”

            She gave him a malevolent smile. “The world will learn exactly how you managed the magical custody-by-default ruling in your favor. Think about it. Not only will you go down in history as a dirty old man, but you’ll probably be charged with bribing a public official, perjury, influence peddling—a veritable cornucopia of improprieties!”

            Richard’s face had gone dead. He wasn’t sure if he was having a stroke or reacting to a political pistol-whipping courtesy of his most faithful confidante, the person who had done his bidding for the past sixteen years. Yes, the island cop might have had a hunch, but his chief of staff knew.

            “Is this a threat?”

            “No. It’s your new reality.”

            Richard looked at M.J.’s face as if he were seeing her for the first time. All that rage, all those hard lines, all that scheming and grasping for one moment of glory—he understood her perfectly.

            Because he’d taught her everything she knew.

            The truth was, if it weren’t for Christina, Richard wouldn’t give a goddamn if he did prison time—as unlikely as that would be for a congressman with a heart condition and the best lawyers money could buy.

            “You disappoint me, Mary Jane.”

            She laughed. “And you failed me.”

            Richard thought about that for a moment. “You’re right. I did. I suppose you should do whatever you believe is right, expose me if you must, and I’ll face the consequences. If they don’t find Christina, nothing matters anyway.”

            “What the . . . ?”

            “You win.” He raised his chin. “Isn’t that what you want—to win? Your resignation has been regretfully accepted. Now, get the hell out.”

            M.J. moved to the door. She placed her hand on the doorknob, then glanced over her shoulder to Richard. That smile was back. Yet again, he thought of Tamara, and he shivered.

            “You know, I’m really going to enjoy watching you crash and burn, Congressman.”

            He waved her off. “It’s an empty threat, and you know it. You’d only incriminate yourself.”

            Her smile widened. “Perhaps I’ll get immunity in exchange for delivering your ass on a platter. You taught me everything I know about making deals, Richard. Remember?”

            * * *

            Charlie knew it was a risky idea, but it was his birthday, and he was so lonely that he craved the comfort memories could provide. Even if he had to settle for memories tainted with sorrow.

            He hadn’t opened this door in over a month. The last time he’d come in Amanda’s room was right after Wahlman’s lawyer had shown up. That was the night Evie had told him the whole story. He learned of Amanda’s affair with the congressman she worked for, and when he had discovered she was pregnant, the bastard had insisted she terminate the pregnancy and threatened her life if she didn’t leave the city immediately. No wonder the country was going to hell in a hay wagon—Congress was nothing but a cesspool of power-hungry, lying degenerates like Richard Wahlman. God help the USA.