Murder at the Washington Tribune - Margaret Truman [136]
“Too busy, I guess,” Edith said.
“How about you, Edith?” Joe asked. “Any new men in your life?”
“I’ve been seeing a really nice guy, a detective from the Crimes Against Property unit. Hispanic. Puerto Rican.”
“And?” Joe and Georgia said in unison.
“Just dating,” said the detective, standing and stretching. “This has been lovely. It’s great seeing you two again.”
“I’m glad you feel that way,” Joe said, “after what I pulled.”
She playfully punched his arm. “Hey,” she said, “we all make mistakes. I dumped mine in divorce court.” She took in the veranda and mountains with a sweep of her hand. “And it looks like you’re doing a pretty good job of dumping yours.”
Georgia walked Edith to her rental car while Joe cleared a final few things from the table.
“I know about you and Joe,” Georgia said flatly as the two women stood next to Edith’s rental car.
“Oh? Georgia, I—”
“It’s okay, Edith. He said he wanted to clear the decks. I’m glad he did. It hurt at first, but I’m beyond that now.”
Edith sighed, and nodded. “No secrets, huh? That’s always the better way to go. Look, I’m sorry, Georgia. You know it was only an impetuous, one-time thing. He’s suffered guilt ever since. I suppose I have, too. I’m glad it’s out in the open.”
“He offered to give me a divorce,” Georgia said. “I told him I didn’t want that. And I want you to know that I don’t have any ill feelings toward you, Edith. Things happen, that’s all. I’m at peace with it, and with you.”
Joe joined them at the curb. He kissed Edith on the cheek and said, “Say hello to anyone you run across back in D.C. who might remember me.”
“Come back and do it yourself,” Edith said. “No need to keep your head buried in the sand, Joe. Some of them do the same thing you did. The only difference is they haven’t gotten caught.” She smiled at Georgia and said to Joe, “And treat this lady right, my friend. She’s a keeper.”
“Buenos noches, amiga,” Joe said as Edith got behind the wheel and started the car.
“Yeah,” she said, “buenos noches.”
They watched Edith drive away, her taillights disappearing over a crest in the road.
“Feel like some ice cream?” he asked as they returned to the house, his arm draped loosely over her shoulder.
“That sounds nice,” she said. “Yes, some ice cream sounds very good.”
About The Author
MARGARET TRUMAN has won faithful readers with her works of biography and fiction, particularly her ongoing series of Capital Crimes mysteries. Her novels let us into the corridors of power and privilege, and poverty and pageantry, in the nation’s capital. She is the author of many nonfiction books, most recently The President’s House, in which she shares some of the secrets and history of the White House, where she once resided. She lives in Manhattan.
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Table of Contents
Murder at the Washington Tribune
Author’s Note
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
About The Author