Murder Inside the Beltway - Margaret Truman [69]
They spent most of the morning strolling through the myriad performing areas and concessions scattered across the Mall. A few folk groups captured their attention, and they set up their chairs and took in the music, feet tapping, Samantha breaking into a charming dance on occasion.
“This is wonderful,” Sue said into the air, leaning back in her chair, closing her eyes, and allowing the sun to play over her face. Jerry looked at her and smiled at the vision. She was as beautiful as the first day they’d met on the campus of the U of Maryland, where she was a freshman and he was in his last year of law school. She’d majored in English, had gone on to earn a Masters in library science, and still worked three days a week at the Cleveland Park Public Library. She was a voracious reader with eclectic interests, from literary fiction to biographies, politics to historical romance novels. Her passion for books had rubbed off on Samantha, who fell asleep each night with an open book beside her on the bed. My two beautiful women, Rollins mused, as the trio onstage sang of shattered dreams.
By noon, they were hungry and set up their mini-picnic beneath a tree alongside one of the performing sites. Samantha happily played hostess, carefully removing items from the cooler and positioning them on the blanket, alongside plastic knives and forks, plates and cups. She poured lemonade from a thermos, taking care not to allow any to drip on the blanket, and unwrapped cheese-and-tomato sandwiches.
“This is awesome,” she announced as she plopped down on the blanket, removed her sandals, and joined her parents in a toast to a good day, touching rims of the cups.
After they’d eaten, Samantha wandered to the front of the stage to watch and listen to a new group that had taken the microphone.
“She’s going to be a knockout when she grows up,” Sue said to Jerry.
“She already is,” he countered. “That’s what worries me.”
Sue laughed. “Spoken like a true and loving father. I pity the young men who date her, having to pass your muster.”
“Aside from the metal detector and X-ray machine at the front door, and the FBI background check, they’ll be welcome.”
Her smiling face turned serious. “It always is a worry, isn’t it?” she said absently.
“Unfortunately.”
“Was Bob disappointed that you canceled with him today?”
“Angry is more like it. He’s acting lately as though his campaign is in trouble. As far as I can see, unless he…”
“Unless he’s caught in bed with someone other than Deb.”
“Yeah, that would not be good. Remember what Huey Long said: ‘The worst thing that can happen to a politician is to be caught in bed with a dead woman, or a live boy.’ ”
Their laughter at the Kingfish’s wit and wisdom trailed off, along with the final notes of the folk group’s song.
“Have you seen Deborah lately?” Sue asked nonchalantly.
“No. Why do you ask?”
“No reason. She’s been keeping pretty much to herself these days.”
“Probably just as well. The press is all over her whenever she makes an appearance, always bringing up the rumors.”
“Are they? Just rumors?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Come on, Jerry. You two are close. Surely he’s confided in you.”
“Confided in me? Yeah, he does, about many things. But his sex life is off-limits. Don’t buy into that myth that sex is all buddies talk about. Not true.”
“We talk about sex,” Sue said. “My friends and I.”
“About your own sex lives?”
“Sometimes. Of course, I have nothing to offer those conversations.” She looked left and right before leaning toward him and saying, “One of our little circle has had affairs.”
He held up his hand and laughed. “Don’t tell me.”
“I didn’t intend to. Incredible