“Mr. Walsh, we need to knowexactlywhere you were last night, and when.”
Time to get a little huffy. “Is she saying something happened between us? Because I left aftershecame on tome. She was drunk and hi—” I pretend to catch myself. “She wasn’t exactly sober when I left her. Butnothinghappened. Iswear.”
Detective Hart stares at me. “Sir, we need anexacttime and location of your movements last night after you left campaign headquarters and went to Congresswoman Martin’s apartment. Including any other stops you made.”
“Whatis going on?”
“Jordan,” Stephen says. “Tell them everything.”
I warily eye the detectives. “Do I need a lawyer?”
“Do you, Mr. Walsh?” Detective Burbeck asks. “Answer our questions now, right here, or we can take you in for questioning and let you sit in an interview room while you wait for an attorney to arrive.Thisis the easy way—talking to usrightnow.Yourchoice. Start from when you left the vice president at campaign headquarters, and walk us through your evening, in full detail. Every stop, and the times as best you can approximate them. We know you were at her apartment. There’s surveillance video and she texted you. We know that much. Why did you start to leave and then return?”
I take a deep breath and start over, including the poop stop at Leo’s. How Grace was drinking, and I saw evidence of her drug use. How she made a pass at me, got pissed off when I said no, and I used that excuse to leave, but she texted me immediately, so I returned because I didn’t want her to be angry. Then I left Grace’s once it was clear she wasn’t going to stop drinking, she texted me, and I rebuffed her. I bought a coffee on the way back to Leo’s, we had sex and talked for a little while, then I returned to campaign headquarters.
I pull out my phone, show them Grace’s texts to me from last night, and the time stamps, then show them the receipt from the coffeeshop, which hit my e-mail upon purchase, but also shows up in my banking app.
Detective Hart looks up the coffeeshop’s location on a map app on his phone while Burbeck takes more notes, but I see how both men’s body language relaxes.
Stephen Lyman silently watches, but I sense his relief, too.
That’s a good sign.
“Can anyone verify what time you returned to campaign headquarters?” Detective Hart asks.
“He’s accurate,” Stephen Lyman chimes in. “I already checked that out, just after you called me. Several members of the detail remember him arriving, and he’s on the entry log having swiped his campaign ID badge. They can all swear affidavits, if necessary.”
I glare at the detectives. “Okay, nowyoutellmewhat’s going on, please?Whatis Grace saying I did? I honestly thought she was so out of it last night that she probably wouldn’t even remember hitting on me. I mean, I washopingshe wouldn’t remember. Is she pissed off because I wouldn’t come back? Look, Stella Woodley is her best friend, and Elliot Woodley is mine. I’ve stopped by her apartment a few times over the past couple of weeks to chat with her, because she invited me, and I’m trying build a bridge there to make life easier on all of us. What,exactly, is she accusing me of?”
The detectives exchange a knowing glance before the Detective Hart speaks. “She’s not sayinganything, Mr. Walsh. Her chief of staff found her this morning after she didn’t come to the office and wouldn’t answer phone calls. Deceased.”
I stare at them and hope I look appropriately horrified. “What? Oh, my god! What happened? How? She…she was okay when I left. I mean, she was pretty drunk and I know she was high, but she walked me to the door when I left.”
“Apparent drug overdose,” Hart says. “Do you have any information about her drug use?”
“Fuck.” I turn away from them for a moment, running my hand through my hair and taking a few deep breaths before I turn back to them. “I saw a baggie on the coffee table last night. She was acting a little odd, and she finally admitted to me she was high.”
Detective Burbeck notes this. “Did she say what she was taking? Or did you actually see her take it?”
I slowly shake my head. “I don’t know exactly what she took. She did offer to let me smoke pot with her a couple of weeks ago, but I said no. I don’t do that stuff. Then, last night, I saw she had something in a baggie, a powder. She’s reallydead?”
“Yes, sir,” Burbeck says. “Probably died not long after she sent you those texts.”
“Fuck.” I prop my hands on my hips and stare at the floor for a moment, like I’m trying to compose myself.
Hart speaks. “What, exactly, was the nature of your relationship with Congresswoman Martin?”
“Acquaintances. I’ve been to her place several times over the past few weeks to talk. We didn’t exactly get off on the right foot when we first met. She was irritated at me because I wouldn’t allow her unlimited access to the vice president. Then we ran into each other at a fundraiser a couple of weeks ago. I thought, okay, when she invited me over to her place to talk, I’d hear her out. Then she hinted around a few times that she wanted to get…intimate with me. Last night was the first time she made an all-out pass at me. I didn’t tell her I’m gay, though.”
Burbeck looks up from his notepad. “You’re gay? Does the vice president know?”
“Yeah. A lot of people around here know. It’s not a secret. I mean, it’s not public knowledge, either. Leo Cruz and I, the president’s body man, sort of have a long-term, down-low thing going on. But I also don’t want to totally blow Grace off and make her mad, right? I’m hoping I could win her over, because she’d be a valuable contact to have. Someone on the vice president’s side after the election. Grace admitted to me during an earlier visit that she’d had a drug problem in college, and even that Stella Woodley made her go to NA meetings. Then she showed me a website for a rehab place, and said she was thinking about calling it. I told her I thought she should, if she’s having a problem. Last night, I tried to get her to call them.Shit. I was really hoping she called them after I quit texting with her.”
I scrub my face with my hands. I don’t want to overdo this, but I need to show some emotions. “I… I guess she was having more of a problem than I thought she was.”
They mention that they found the number for a rehab facility on her phone, and on her laptop browser. Meaning if they’re telling me that, they believe my version of events. I even volunteer to take a drug test right now, if they want me to, but they decline.
From the looks on their faces, I can tell they’re already closing this case.
