Murder on K Street - Margaret Truman [125]
“What sort of committee?”
“A private organization made up of concerned citizens who are fed up with the way lobbyists run the show in Congress. It’ll take outside pressure, I’m afraid, to force the House and Senate to come up with any meaningful legislation.” Simmons laughed. “I’m the perfect one to spearhead such a movement, don’t you agree? I’m trying to make something positive out of all this, Phil.”
“That’s good, Lyle. I’ll think about it.”
“Of course you will. Get back to me about it, Phil. We make a hell of a team. We always have. Stay in touch.”
• • •
Rotondi hadn’t stayed in touch but knew he would, not to become involved in any committee, but to maintain contact with his former college roommate and friend of so many years. Whether he’d ever see Polly again was pure conjecture. And Marlene? He doubted their paths would ever cross again, either.
The phone rang. It was Mac Smith.
“How are things?” Rotondi asked.
“Good. You?”
“We’re doing all right, Mac. How’s Jonell Marbury?”
“He’s landed a new job, White House liaison for a Wisconsin congressman.”
“Good for him. He deserves the best.”
“And he and Marla have set the date.”
“Nothing but positive news,” Rotondi said. “I like that.”
“Staying in Washington for a while, Phil?”
“As little as possible. Emma’s second-in-command is doing a bang-up job, so we can spend more time down at the shore.”
“That’s why I’m calling. Annabel and I are thinking of spending next weekend there—you know, some sun, sand, get our toes wet. We’d love to catch up with you and Emma.”
“It’s a date,” said Rotondi.
They promised to follow up with details later in the week.
“Time for Homer’s walk,” Rotondi said. He yelled the dog’s name, which awoke him from a deep, fidgety sleep. “Come on, buddy, time to fertilize the grass.”
As man and beast were about to go through the front door, Rotindi turned and said, “Do you know what I said the night Parish was here?”
“No, what?” Emma asked.
“When the cops arrived, they asked who the woman was being held inside the house.”
“And?”
“And—I said it was my fiancée.”
Emma laughed. “Remember our deal,” she said.
“I’m remembering,” he said, “only as I get older, my memory isn’t as good as it used to be. Back in a minute.”
She smiled and went to the kitchen to fill the dishwasher. As she did, she found herself singing, for no discernible reason, the old Doris Day hit, “Que Sera, Sera.”
“Que sera, sera, whatever will be will be, the future’s not ours to see…”
Come to think of it, her memory wasn’t what is used to be, either.
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 on K Street
Dedication:
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
About The Author