Murder on K Street - Margaret Truman [81]
“Okay.” She shifted in the seat to face him. “I’m so sorry, Jonell.”
“About what?”
“About Marla.”
He forced a laugh. “Not to worry,” he said. “She’ll get over it.”
“I never wanted to cause you any trouble.”
He placed his hand on hers. “It’s okay, Camelia, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything.”
“Except encourage you.”
“You did?”
“Of course I did. I think you’re—I think you’re a very attractive guy in more ways than one. To be honest, I’m the one who’s jealous—of Marla.”
“That’s all very flattering, Camelia, and I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit being attracted to you. But it’s not to be.”
“I know that, Jonell. I hate coming off the fool.”
“You’re anything but. Did you enjoy your party?”
“No.”
“No?”
“It was nice and all, but…”
“But what?”
“Marshalk.” Her affect had been flat. Now she was more animated. “He tried to buy me off.”
“What do you mean?”
“Marshalk came into my office today and handed me an envelope. Know what was in it?”
“I can’t wait to hear.”
“A check for fifty thousand dollars.”
“That’s a nice going-away present,” Marbury said.
“I didn’t take it.”
“How come?”
“It’s dirty money, Jonell. First he threatens me over dinner, now he hands me fifty thousand dollars with the hope I’ll keep my mouth shut about what I know.”
“Maybe you’re being too hard on him, Camelia. You’re not the first employee to leave with a hefty check.”
“Oh, come on, Jonell, one thing you’re not is naïve. Have you given any thought to what we talked about the other day?”
“About my leaving? Sure. I discussed it with Marla. She wasn’t happy from the get-go when I decided to sign on with Marshalk. She wants me to resign, too. I spoke with Neil this afternoon about leaving.”
“You did? What did he say?”
“He didn’t try to discourage me. In fact, I had the impression that he might be thinking of leaving, too. He didn’t say so, but there was that vibe.”
“And you?”
“Me? I still have to give it some thought. I’m not sure what to do. I think what bothered me most was Rick not wanting me to go to the police and tell them I was at Senator Simmons’s house the afternoon his wife was killed.”
Her eyes widened and she grabbed his hand. “What were you doing there?” she asked, her voice mirroring surprise at what he’d said.
“Rick asked me to drop off an envelope. He told me to take it there on my way home. I left early that day and dropped it off around four.”
“What was in it?”
“I don’t know. It had the senator’s name written on it. I handed it to Mrs. Simmons.”
“And Marshalk didn’t want you to tell the police that you were there?”
“Right.”
“Why?”
“He said it would only cause trouble for me, and maybe for the firm. I shouldn’t have listened to him. It’s been keeping me awake ever since the murder. I’m going to the police tomorrow. I might have been the last person to see her alive.”
“I didn’t know.”
“It was stupid of me to listen to Rick about something like this.”
The windows had fogged up again.
“I’d better get in,” Camelia said. “Thanks for the lift.”
“My pleasure. You feeling better?”
“More sober?” She laughed. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”
She brought her face close to him and they kissed.
He walked her into the lobby of her building where a uniformed doorman sat behind a desk.
“Remember what you said you’d do tomorrow,” Camelia reminded Jonell.
“I won’t forget,” he said. “Count on it.”
The doorman left his post and disappeared through a door behind the desk.
“Careful home,” Camelia said.
“I will.”
“Best to Marla.”
Marbury watched Camelia disappear into an elevator. He turned to say good night to the doorman, but he hadn’t returned to the lobby. Marbury went to his car and drove to the row house he and Marla had shared for the past year.
• • •
Camelia let herself into her apartment. She’d left a single table lamp burning, which spilled soft yellow light across the floor. She kicked off her shoes, tossed her handbag on a chair, and padded over to the sliding glass doors that led to a small balcony. She pulled the drapes open and looked out over the city of Washington, D.C., her home for the past eleven years.