Maybe that’s part of it. Maybe he sees it as a betrayal of Elliot and him.
I can’t deal with that now.
He leans in to steal a brief kiss from me literally on his way out.
Part of me feels a little put out that I didn’t even get a hug, but I also cannot deal with that now.
We’re almost finished eating lunch when Suzanne buzzes us on the intercom. “Jordan, I have Stella Woodley for the vice president on line three.”
I reach for the phone before Elliot can. “Thank you.” If I’m with Elliot, Suzanne knows to buzz me first to let me grab the call, no matter who it is. The only exceptions outside of planned calls with dignitaries are Leo, Kev, and President Samuels. I pick up the receiver and hit the line. “Vice President Woodley’s office, Jordan Walsh speaking.”
To her credit, Stella sounds awful, subdued. “This is Stella Woodley. Is Elliot available to talk for a minute, please?”
I make sure to sound sympathetic. “Sure, let me get him for you. I’m so sorry to hear about Grace. I know how close you two were.” Obviously, I have a reason for approaching it like this.
She sniffles. “Thank you. Do…do you think it’d be possible for Elliot to attend her funeral with me? Please?”
“Of course. I will rearrange his schedule for you, once the details are finalized. Hold on just a sec, let me get him for you.” I put her on hold again and hand Elliot the receiver. He looks like he’d rather get punched in the balls than talk to her, but he takes the receiver from me and I hit the line button.
He sits back in his chair. “Hey, Stella. How you doing? I just heard…” I listen in, of course.
That Stella didn’t even give me the slightest bit of snark means she likely had no idea I’d been over to Grace’s at all in the past several weeks, much less that I was there last night.
Just before six o’clock that evening, when we’re preparing to head to campaign headquarters, my already good luck takes a turn for the even better when I receive a phone call from Detective Hart.
“Mr. Walsh, I just wanted to let you know everything checked out, and we appreciate your cooperation this morning. It won’t be necessary for you or Leo Cruz to come in and give official statements.”
I fight the urge to jump up and down and punch the air. I settle for rubbing my forehead with my free hand. “I won’t? I-I mean, I don’t mind doing it, if you need me to. I want to cooperate, if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“No, sir. Thank you, but it’s not necessary. There’s no reason to involve either of you in this any further. The building’s surveillance video clearly shows what time you left. The congresswoman texted you long after you left the building. Your cell phone pinged exactly where you said you were, at the times she texted you. No one will be served by bringing your name into this. This was nothing more than a tragic accident.”
Hello, gift horse. Keep your fucking mouth shut.“Thank you, Detective. I appreciate that.”
Yes, the thought that maybe Leo pulled some strings floats through my mind.
No, I’m not going to ask.
What, do Ilookstupid?
Because maybe therewerestrings pulled—by other people who happened to benefit from and be glad that Grace died.
If that’s the case?
I damn sure don’t want to know who they are.
Not at all.
I also don’t want Leo on their radar, if he’s not there already.
* * * *
At campaign headquarters, I pull Casey aside and, after swearing her to secrecy, I tell her exactly the same story I told the two detectives.
Her eyes widen. “Son of a bitch,” she whispers. Then, she snorts. “I know it makes me a horrible person, but I’m not unhappy she’s gone. She was already trying to make herself a pain in my ass.”
I offer her a fist and she bumps with me.
“I suppose the vice president will attend the funeral?” she asks.
