The rest of the morning passed quietly. Lucinda and Matt were in a closed-door meeting for several hours. I confirmed with Matt when I saw him emerge that our days as Senate employees were indeed numbered. After Senator Langsford’s memorial service tomorrow and his subsequent internment, the governor would appoint a successor to the office. Since the governor hailed from the other political party, he was under pressure to waste no time filling the vacant Senate seat.
Matt corroborated what everyone had been whispering: Representative Jessop was the hands-on favorite to get the nod. This news gave my quest with Meg this afternoon added urgency. Besides Senator Regan and Jeff Prentice, Representative Jessop had the strongest motive for wanting Senator Langsford dead. With Langsford out of the way, his path to becoming a senator was clear. If not for Langsford’s untimely death, Jessop would have been relegated to the House of Representatives for the foreseeable future.
I ate a quick lunch at my desk while sifting through more emails and returning phone calls. Unfortunately, I didn’t have good answers for the eager constituents who were awaiting funding decisions by the Appropriations Committee. Senator Langsford’s successor would likely get a seat on Appropriations, but since I wouldn’t be working for the new senator, I was in no position to make promises. Several worthy projects for towns and cities in the state hung in the balance, and I felt bad about letting down the many hardworking people I had shepherded through the convoluted federal funding process.
My phone rang, and I glanced at the number that popped up on my caller ID. Doug’s cellphone. Should I screen him or not? I felt instant guilt for even thinking about ignoring his call. We had left things ambiguous this morning, and he probably wanted to make sure I hadn’t gotten myself arrested.
With a sigh, I picked up the phone. I might as well face the music. I wouldn’t be able to keep Doug in the dark for long about our planned escapade later today.
After saying our hellos, Doug immediately asked, “How is the investigation going?” I knew him pretty darn well.
I tried to play nonchalant. “Oh, we haven’t made too much progress today. We did run into Detective O’Halloran, and he told us the police found a hair from a blond wig at the scene of the murder. It might be an important clue.”
Doug let out a low whistle. “That’s big news. It should give the police a lot to go on, right?” I noticed his distinct emphasis on the word “police.”
“I suppose so, although Detective O’Halloran didn’t seem too optimistic. They haven’t located the wig itself yet.”
“At least it’s a break in the case. Does this mean you and Meg are going to suspend your efforts to solve the murder? It sounds as if the official investigators are making progress.”
Doug definitely wanted me to back off. Even though he’d shown genuine interest in the clues we’d uncovered, he thought we were both out of our league, and I was pretty sure he’d fielded a phone call from his father earlier this morning, who undoubtedly wanted an update that confirmed I was in the process of separating myself from the whole messy business. Senator Langsford’s murder had continued to be front-page news and the lead story on every cable news network. Without another hot prospect, I was still the only person named publicly as a suspect. I imagined Doug’s father, dressed in his velvet smoking jacket with a crystal glass of vintage port in his one hand and his pipe in the other, clicking through various channels and praying not to stumble across my cheerful face in a televised news story about Langsford’s death. Doug’s father had good intentions. He wanted the best for me, but the fact I was attached to his son, and consequently, the sacred family name, was the real reason for his concern.
Fiddling with the phone cord, I wondered if I should tell Doug what he wanted to hear. Namely, that Meg and I had decided to end our informal investigation and chalk up the whole murder of Senator Langsford to bad luck. That would make Doug happy in the short term, and it would get his father off his back, for sure. Somehow, it didn’t seem the right choice.
I took a deep breath. “Actually, we may have figured out a way to obtain some inside information in Jessop’s office, and we’re headed over there later today,” I hesitated as I searched for the right words, “to poke around.”
“Poke around? How are you going to do that in a congressional office?” Doug sounded noticeably alarmed.
“Well, Meg has a friend over there, and she may be able to keep him occupied while I take a …” I hesitated again as I racked my brain, then blurted out, “quick peek.”
“ ‘Quick peek’? Kit, I never tell you what to do, but you’d better be careful.” Now I’d done it. He was exasperated.
“I know, I know. Don’t worry about us. I doubt this plan will even work. We’ll probably walk over to Jessop’s office, Meg will flirt with the guy she knows, and that’ll be it. We owe it to Langsford to at least try, right?”
Doug reluctantly agreed, and I got off the phone after promising to give him a blow-by-blow account later this evening when I returned home.
I spent several hours on the phone catching up with Senate colleagues while casually mentioning I would have to find a new job soon. Once my current position ended, it would become more difficult to find another Hill job. I had to alert contacts now about my plight and would have to keep reminding them in the upcoming weeks. D.C. had a stunted memory. I hoped other Senate offices or committees might take pity upon Langsford staffers and find good jobs for us when his successor was appointed. Of course, if the murder wasn’t solved, it would be next to impossible for me to find a new job, given the suspicion that hung over me like a cloud. I detected hesitancy in the voices of the people I spoke with on the phone, compounding my worries about my employment prospects.
I was about to Instant Message Meg to find out if she’d made contact with Kyle about paying him a visit later this afternoon when I thought of Senator Langsford’s memorial service at his house. All staffers were expected to attend, and I wanted to pay my respects. It might also be my only opportunity to speak with Mrs. Langsford to determine if her alibi was legit.
As Mandy had so rudely reminded me, I needed to watch her video blog about the memorial service. I reluctantly found the link to her daily diatribe. At least I wouldn’t have to suffer through these missives much longer. I clicked on the link, and Mandy’s face appeared on my screen. I put on the headphones I kept attached to my computer. Just because I had to listen to Mandy’s shrill voice didn’t mean I had to subject the rest of the office to it. Any other press secretary would be satisfied with sending out an email about the senator’s daily activities, but not Mandy. She had convinced Lucinda and Matt a video blog was more “responsive to the digital age.” I doubted that was true. Mandy simply wanted to appear on everyone’s computer on a regular basis so we could all be reminded of how beautiful and important she was.
Only Mandy could appear perky when talking about a memorial service. No, we didn’t have to wear black, but dress was “professional attire.” Screw Mandy and her contemporary fashion advice. I was going to a memorial service, my boss was dead, and I was sad about it. Black seemed altogether appropriate. We had to be there at ten sharp tomorrow morning.
Senator Langsford had lived with his wife Vivian in a sprawling house in McLean, which wasn’t easily accessible by Metro. I’d have to make sure my car had gas in it. I almost never drove it during the week, and frequently when the weekends came, I discovered it was nearly on “empty.” Thankfully, environmentally concerned citizen that I was, I owned a hybrid vehicle. This meant I could usually drive at least thirty miles on fumes with no problem.
Something seemed vaguely out of place, but I couldn’t put a finger on it. The fuzzy remnants of a thought was batting around in my brain. I couldn’t grasp what bugged me, so I shrugged it off and sent Meg an Instant Message, “Are we set for this afternoon?”
She wrote back immediately, “Let’s leave in 15 minutes.”
I responded: “Are u going to mem service?”
She answered, “Y. Need ride.” I smiled. Meg took the “environmentally responsible” citizen label even more seriously than I. She didn’t own a car.
I typed, “OK. Metro out to me and we’ll leave at 930. C U in 15.”
I busied myself with tidying up my workspace for the remaining few minutes before our departure for the House of Representatives. I had accumulated a lot of crap in the past several years working for Senator Langsford. A good deal of the paperwork would need to be boxed up for his archives. The personal stuff would get thrown out or come home with me. I fingered several photographs from our staff costume Halloween party last year, a couple key chains that constituents had given me to remind me of their causes, and my souvenir coffee mug from the downstairs gift shop that displayed all the names of the senators. I vowed to restrict myself to one box to take home, hopefully by the end of the week.
I had been daydreaming about my time in the office when Meg woke me out of my reverie. “Ready to go?” she asked cheerfully.
I quickly bounced out of my stupor. “Oh! Sure. Let’s go.”
She laughed at me. “Were you taking a nap?”
“No, but I was daydreaming. I was thinking about the past four years working in the office. Meg, I can’t believe it’s over.” I put my BlackBerry into my purse and smoothed my hair.
Meg put her arm around me. “I know. It’s surreal. I always knew we wouldn’t get to work together forever. I guess I just wasn’t ready for the end to come so soon.”
“Well, I’m sure Senator Langsford would agree, especially since I’m positive he wasn’t ready to die. Let’s get going and see if we can figure out who did this to him.”
Meg grinned. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”