Relieved at the change of subject, Zita said, “I didn’t do anything.” She took a glass of white wine from the waiter.
“Of course you did. He never mentioned it before he met you.”
“She opened my eyes,” David said, drawing her closer.
The warmth that spread through her was comforting.
“I wouldn’t mention that to Dad,” Grant said. “He’s still annoyed about the time he’s wasted on David.” He laughed. “I’m going to find a real drink.” He walked off.
Zita frowned. David hadn’t mentioned anything about that.
“Ignore Grant,” Lorelei said. “He’s teasing.”
Zita wasn’t as sure, but she nodded.
At dinner, she kept her opinions to herself and her mouth shut. Luckily, most of the political conversation was between the men on the other side of the round table and she was able to shut it out by listening to Lorelei and Fay chatting. Then it was time for the speeches. Governor Harding stood and walked to the front. There were cameras from several television stations there, and the cameramen got to their feet to film.
The governor made his speech and then said, “I’m pleased to announce I am throwing my full support behind Bob Randall.” He gestured for Bob to come to the front of the stage. Fay went with him, and Jesse explained who Bob was and what his qualifications were. Then he invited Bob to speak.
“It’s a real pleasure to be asked to run for governor,” Bob began. “The great state of Texas has a number of issues that need to be addressed.” He went through some of his policies if he were to be elected. They’d only benefit the rich, but then it was only the wealthy at this dinner. Zita didn’t say a word. She glanced at David, who was frowning.
“But the main issue I want to tackle is immigration.”
Zita braced herself.
“We’ve got all of these people flooding into the country like a plague and it must be stopped.” A couple of people cheered. “They’re leeches on society, lawbreakers from the start, entering the country illegally and expecting us to pay millions of our taxpayers’ dollars to support them and their hordes of children. They don’t give anything back to society.”
Zita’s breath left her at his vitriol.
“Here, here,” someone called.
“Some of the lies they tell are quite shocking.” He held up a file. “My son has been gathering information about these illegal immigrants for me.”
Zita stiffened. No. He wouldn’t have.
David grabbed her hand. “I didn’t give him that.”
Zita barely heard him as Bob opened the file. “One young girl, a Beatriz Morales, told the government her stepfather beat her and she was allowed to stay, as if the Guatemalan government couldn’t help a simple case of child abuse.”
She was numb. David had been spying for his father? He’d said he was trying to change his father’s mind. David squeezed her hand, but she shook him off, not quite comprehending.
“Another girl, Teresa Garcia, said she was forced into prostitution and had her application granted. But what’s worse, her mother and sister, Johanna and Manuela Garcia, have also been approved, citing gang violence. How convenient.”
More shouts of disgust.
The blood drained from Zita’s face. Bob had mentioned the Garcias by name. If the information got back to El Salvador, Manuela and Johanna would be in danger. “Are those cameras live?”
“Zita, I didn’t know he was going to say that,” David said, his eyes pleading.
She pushed back her chair. “I said, are those cameras live?”
“I don’t know.”
She headed to the nearest cameraman. “When is this going out?”
He held up a finger for her to be silent.
She grabbed his arm. “Is this live?”
