ARROGANTLY SHABBY

A Cal McAffrey story

By Atonia Walpole

(Picture creations also by Atonia)

Part 1

(Pawley’s Island, SC)

Marilee Belmont-Jackson smoothed out the quilt on the old four poster bed. The sun coming through the window warmed it and sent the fresh air and sunshine smell up around her head. She didn’t know why she’d come after all. The house was too quiet but that was the way of things when they’re empty of life. She opened the window and the blue and white striped curtains took flight across the headboard. She’d always meant to move the bed…

Memories swarmed up from that bed, sleeping turned around so that you could see the stars at night, feel that sticky sea air blowing gently across naked bodies. She turned away a moment before closing the window. It wasn’t going to work. No matter where she went it wouldn’t go away, fifteen years of happiness, memories scattered over three states, too many to try and mop up now. It was over…he was gone.

She fled to their house on Pawley’s Island in South Carolina. They would at least respect her here, respect her privacy and her need to grieve. Others would be joining her, of course. Such was her life as a senator’s wife; her secretary, Diz and Marcy, the official spokesperson. Phillip, their eight year old son had been left with her mother-in-law in Maryland. Georgia Jackson would protect him and his school would not be interrupted any more than necessary. The funeral was over now, the sideshow was just beginning.

Cal McAffrey was digging through a stack of newspapers in his cubby of an office. Something rang a bell about Senator Jackson’s lover. He’d seen her picture before. Ten inches of newsprint tumbled to the floor but he had the article. Yes, there she was, standing in the background behind Senator Jackson and his wife Marilee, only she wasn’t mentioned by name. The article was two years old. He wondered just how long she’d been around in his circle. A wad of paper hit his head and he looked up. Oh yeah, he was supposed to be in a meeting.

“I’ve booked you into Myrtle Beach. It’s only an hour’s drive from there.”

“You know, I really don’t want to do this. I can find out what I need to know from here. Besides, she’s barricaded up. I’m sure she’s had her fill of journalists and media hounds.” Cal leaned back in his chair, looking at his editor across the table.

“It’s a story that wants telling, Cal, from her viewpoint.”

“Send…” he looked around the room, “send Della.”

“But that’s so typical. Send a woman in to get a woman’s viewpoint on her husband’s infidelity and subsequent death on his way to see his girlfriend. I want a different angle. This Maria Costellas is not what she seems. I think that’s already been established. So who is she?”

Marilee sipped her iced tea. “That should about cover it, I think. Thank you, Diz.”

Diz stood, gathering her papers and then stopped. “Oh, I almost forgot. There’s a reporter from the Washington Post wants to talk to you. He’s called twice and knocked on the door once. I promised him I’d give it a shot.”

Marilee looked over her reading glasses at her secretary and good right hand, a slim black woman from Columbia. If Diz mentioned the reporter then it required an answer because usually they got short shift from her. “What’s his story? Do you know?”

“He didn’t tell me other than it has to do with Maria.”

Marilee’s lips went into a thin line. “Any particular reason this reporter needs my attention?”

“Well, Marilee, he’s sincere. You may need him, you know?”

“Oh.” She met Diz’s look. “If you think I need to see him then set up an appointment.”

“Yes, ma’am. You want Marcy to be there?”

“No, I’ll handle it.”

Diz stared at her a moment and with a quick nod of her head she ducked out.

Marilee pushed her hair behind an ear, a habit from her girlhood. It wouldn’t stay now, too many layers, all expertly highlighted and framing her face in an unstudied tumble that benefited from a finger comb now and again.  She stepped through the glass doors onto the wide, screened porch that ran the length of the house on the second floor that just cleared the dunes, allowing a full view of the ocean. This was the main living area in the old house. There weren’t many of them left now. Time and weather had taken their toll and what had been left behind was too expensive to keep up and so the properties had been sold, houses torn down and two or three new beach houses built on the lots. But not Sea-Mont. Somehow he father’s family had found the time and monies to keep it going.

Marliee was explaining all this to Cal McAffrey. “It’s my hole in the ground, my refuge where I go to repair and replenish myself.”

Cal smiled a little. “You come from a long line of politicians.”

“Not that long a line. My grandfather was Governor Belmont, my father was a lawyer turned state attorney and then a judge. I’m not a politician. I identify more with the long-suffering wives. My mother was a reluctant hostess, but now my grandmother was something else. She was an activist and made good use of her time in the public eye. My mother’s father was a judge. I serve on a few committees and host teas and charity events. I did what was expected of me in Washington."

“Will you go back to Washington?”

“I have a few things to tidy up there so I will have to go back. There’s the apartment that must be sold and, of course, my son Phillip is in Maryland at school. We thought it best to leave him there with his grandparents. Mr. McAffrey, so far you’ve asked me nothing that isn’t public record. Why are you here?”

“I’m here to get your side of the story. His body wasn’t recovered from the crash. Do you believe he was on that plane?”

Marilee looked at him a long time before she answered. “We’ve had his memorial service, Mr. McAffrey. He was seen boarding the plane. What else can I say? Of course he was on the plane. My husband was a lot of things but he would never deliberately cause us pain or embarrassment. Why would you ask such a question?”

“Oh, perhaps because Brad Peters is missing. He did serve as your husband’s double from time to time, didn’t he, when he was out of state?”

“I don’t even want to contemplate what you are suggesting.”

“There was no DNA testing done on the remains that were recovered. The pilot, Senator Jackson and his assistant, only three people on the plane when it took off. His own secretary missed the flight by five minutes. Twenty-four hours later Maria Costellas is found dead in her apartment of an apparent suicide.”

“Humpf.”

“You don’t buy that?”

“No. She would no more kill herself than I would. She might have been fucking my husband for the last five years but she wouldn’t kill herself over him. I’ve already answered these questions for the police detective in DC. I’m sure you’ve got access to that information.”  Marilee stopped at a table, picked up a half-squashed pack of Marlboros and lit a cigarette.

“Did you love him?”

She let out a stream of smoke. “I did…of course I did. We were married for fifteen years. We have . Was he recording? He looked like a fish out of water here in Pawley’s. “Where are you from, Mr. McAffrey?”

“Pittsburgh…a long time ago.”

“Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“Yeah, I would. Thanks.”

Marilee stuck her head in the door and yelled for Jasmine. “Pot of coffee, hun!”

The wind lifted his hair. “There’s a storm brewing out there.”

“Yes, September is high hurricane season here. I expect we’ll get some rain and wind. Take off your coat and make yourself comfortable. We don’t have to stay out here but I do if I want to smoke.”

“We can stay out here. It’s nice.” Cal slipped his coat off, revealing a rumpled blue shirt and a pair of jeans.

Marilee sat down on the old wicker loveseat and ran a hand over the green and white striped pad. “Have a seat,” she said quickly.

He sat in an adjacent chair. She noticed how blue his eyes were in his grizzled face. He reminded her of boys she’d gone to college with. She would see them at barbecues now and then, and they still wore their hair long, some in ponytails, still bucking the establishment. “I’m not sure what to do with you, Mr. McAffrey. I’m afraid I can’t add anything more to what you already know. Diz thinks I should talk to you, so here I am. I trust her judgment.”

“I’m not sure, either. I got a feeling we don’t know the whole story. I got a feeling it’s important or I wouldn’t be here regardless of my editor’s angle. There’s more to you than the bereaved widow.”

Marilee smiled. “Well, I hope so. That would be awfully sad, wouldn’t it, if that’s all I’d become.”

 Part 2

(Georgetown, SC)

It began on the internet, caught fire and now it was on the 6:00 local news. Marilee was livid and turned off the TV. She didn’t have to listen to that crap. It was 6:30 when he called from Dockside Grill and Bar in Georgetown.

“I just saw the news. Are you okay?”

“No, I’m mad as a wet hen! Somebody has a very vivid imagination." She drew heavily on her cigarette, pacing off the screened porch.

He’d only interviewed her twice and the second one was interrupted by visitors, so he didn’t quite know where he got off extending an invitation to her. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

She hesitated a moment. “Where are you?”

He told her.

“I’ll take you up on that.” Marilee folded her phone and stuck it in the back pocket of her white jeans. She found her flip flops, slid her feet into them and picked up her handbag. “Jas, I’m goin’ out!” she called as she closed the door and went down the steps to the garage. She didn’t want to have to explain where she was going. She wasn’t sure why she was going but she wanted him to buy her that drink.

It was a cloudy evening and the stench from International Paper Company hung thick around Georgetown. Cal was seriously considering going back inside where the smell was at least filtered through an air-conditioning system. Marilee barely noticed it as she breezed up the docks, looking neither left nor right. She didn’t want to speak to anybody, didn’t want to hear their condolences. She hid behind her big sunglasses. Dressed in white jeans, turquoise tank and an orange silk shirt she’d thrown on at the last minute, she was anything but inconspicuous.

Cal stood on the dock just outside the bar area and watched her walk. She looked like a woman who knew exactly where she was going.

“I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind.”

“There was a wreck on hwy 17 just before the bridge and there was nowhere to go. Thank you for waiting.”

“What are you drinking?” he asked, leaning on the bar.

“Vodka tonic with lime.” She took a seat and looked around. Only one known person in the bar, an artist who could care less who Marilee Belmont-Jackson was having a drink with. “You know I had to wonder myself what the hell I was doing driving down here to meet you. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at anything I see on the news any more.”

“What if it were true and he was alive somewhere?”

“As bad as he was at his absolute lowest, I can’t see him doing a thing like that, not to Phillip.”

“You?”

“Oh, well, of course, me, too, I meant to include myself, thank you.” She took her drink.

“What do you think happened to Brad Peters?”

She led out a breath. “I really don’t know Mr. McAffrey. Perhaps he absconded with something. Maybe he’s off visiting his family or his lover. I’m sure he’ll turn up somewhere.”

“How sure?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you know for a fact that he wasn’t on that flight?”

“I don’t know anything for a fact except that my husband is dead. He died in the plane that crashed on Bald Mountain. Why are you trying to resurrect him?”

“I’m not, but like you I’d like to see these rumors put to bed. If Brad Peters walked up to a mike that would be the end of it. I just thought you might have an idea about him.”

“Well, I’m sorry I don’t. My husband’s staff and his aides were not my territory. He might have been on the plane with John. I wouldn’t know. I hadn’t seen my husband in over forty-eight hours before the crash.”

“Really…48 hours?”

“There 'bouts. I couldn’t tell you down to the minute. He hadn’t been home for two nights.” She took a good drink and looked out at the pontoons and other boats tied up to the docks. “Have you had dinner, Mr. McAffrey?”

“Why don’t you call me Cal?  Mr. McAffrey sounds too formal.”

“Are we informal?”  She turned her dark-fringed hazel eyes on him. “How informal are we, Cal?”

He smiled a little and sipped his drink.

“When you stop playing reporter…we can be informal.”

“Fair enough.”

“You followed me down here from DC. Who’s footing your bill?”

“The Post. Footing it for a week as long as I’m sending copy. I’m on your side, Marilee”

“Now that does cause me to worry. That invites little secrets, tidbits of info I won’t share with anyone else. It’s all bullshit,” she sighed and took a drink.

“You’re right, it is, and to answer your question a while back, I haven’t had dinner. Where would you like to eat?”

“Two doors down.”

Over dinner he noticed she relaxed. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe she was just tired of the façade. He’d seen it before in Washington wives, that hard bright shell, the practiced smile, power behind the throne trotted out when it was necessary to evoke home and family. The little woman all caught up in good deeds, the perfect children.

“I’m not asking as a reporter now. What are you going to do?”

Marilee set her glass down. “That’s a good question. There are things I must do, things I feel I have to do in DC. I don’t like to leave loose ends, people dangling. I have business to close out, a house to sell in Maryland. In other words as soon as I can get my shit straight I’m outta there. I may leave Phillip with his grandmother until school is out and then I’ll bring him home. I fully intend to turn my back on Washington and its inhabitants. I’ve been around politicians all my life. They are a special breed, apart from people like you. I tried to break away myself when I got out of high school and went north to Sarah Lawrence but my Daddy brought me home after two years and put me in Carolina to finish school. He knew what he was doing, bringing me back into the fold and, of course, he already had John Simms Jackson picked out for me.”

“You’re free.”

“Damn right I am! First time in my life…I’m free.” Her eyes glittered in the low light of the restaurant and she picked up her drink glass and touched his.

“To freedom,” he said and watched her savor her drink.

“Are you free, Cal?”

“Yeah. I like it that way.”

“I think I’m gonna like it, too. This house I’m living in belonged to my family and when John and I first married we spent a good deal of time here. In fact I would swear Phillip was conceived there. We had a good life for awhile.” She smiled and looked out of the large windows along the waterside. “So I’m going to keep the house but make a few changes.”

Cal took care of the check and held her chair, remembering his manners. Something about her brought them to the forefront. Certain things she expected…doors to be opened for her, chairs to be pulled out. They went along the waterfront.

“I guess you get used to this smell?” he asked.

“It smells like money. When Georgetown Steel pulled out of here and shut down, this place nearly shut down, too. There was nowhere for all the people to work. You’d be surprised how many people were affected, Georgetown is a local hub. People come here to shop and eat. It’s not all tourists, you know. This is not Charleston or Myrtle Beach. It’s actually an historic seaport. Just keeps reinventing itself.” She smiled and fell into step beside him.

“Where are you staying, Cal?”

“Litchfield. They had me booked into a hotel in Myrtle Beach but after a night there I moved south.”

Marilee laughed a little. “I can understand that. Well, you’re just right around the corner from me.”

He stopped, watching a woman come down the dock with her dog, open a gate and climb the stairs to her apartment. He noticed then a lot of the buildings had living quarters above the shops and bars. “If it wasn’t for the smell, this is rather nice.”

“The smell keeps the tourist population down, allows Georgetown to be a sleepy little city.”

“You sound like a senator’s wife extolling her home state,” he grinned.

“No, I’m a native. He was from Florida. We can cut through here. Are you parked out on Main Street?”

“Over behind the bank.”

“Well, I’m just down there.”

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Thank you and thank you for dinner.” She stopped by her vehicle and leaned against it. “You’ve been very nice. I knew that about you or I wouldn’t have come. You know where I live.”

“Would you like for me to follow you home, make sure you get there?”

“Eleven miles to my house. That can be a long way from here. Yes, follow me home.”

He held her eyes for a moment, understanding what she was asking. “I promise to leave my reporter trappings behind me in the car.”

A wide smile and she replied, “Do that and I’ll break out that bottle of bourbon.”

They settled out on the screened porch and worked that bottle on down. Marilee was feeling the drinks but it felt good and it was nice to be with someone, someone she could talk to, someone who looked and smelled like a man. He was turning her on. She couldn’t remember the last time.

She was attractive, she was sexy and she’d dropped that shell, revealing the woman beneath, one who could tell a dirty joke and laugh. He loved the way she threw her head back and laughed. All her funny stories happened ten-twelve years ago. “Then what did you do?”

“Drove it all the way back to Columbia. There wasn’t anything else we could do. The seat belt still worked so nobody was gonna fall out. It was just a breezy drive! Oh, Cal, why is it we’re only crazy when we’re young? Sometimes I just want to bust out and run naked down the beach or do something outrageous at The Watergate.”

“Can’t help you with the Watergate but you got a beach…”

She grinned, “Are you up for it? Double dog dare ya!”

“Oh, now you’ve done it!” He started looking for the door.

She laughed and led him down the back steps and through the old shrubbery and trees that protected the house. There was a walk over the dune and then they were on a deserted strip of beach. They both stripped and ran into the surf. It was dark on Marilee’s bit of the beach and the population didn’t start increasing until you walked two houses down. She was comfortable and Cal didn’t care.

Somewhere in the waves they came together. Slowly he kissed her and the rest of the night was theirs, upstairs in her bedroom where the blue and white curtains waved at them from the window.

“It’s been awhile,” she whispered.

“Longer for me…”

He left before daylight, before her household woke up and found him there. On the drive back to Litchfield Beach he knew he was in trouble.  He hadn’t brought up Maria Costellas yet. He’d wanted to gain a certain footage with her first. Well, he’d gained a lot more than that. The ocean had sobered them up so there was none of that. They went to bed together fully aware of what they were doing and he had enjoyed it immensely.

 Part 3

(Columbia, SC)

Marilee wandered downstairs into the living room/office around eleven o’clock. Diz was busy on her computer. She picked up a diet coke and had a sip, trying to judge Marilee as she sauntered over to the glass doors and looked out toward the sea. “You want it now or later?”

Marilee sighed, “I don’t want it at all. It’s too late for coffee. I want a Bloody Mary. Jasmine…Jas, honey, bring me a Bloody Mary. You make the best I’ve ever tasted.”

Diz raised a brow. “What time did he leave?”

“You’re a nosey bitch. Did I ever tell you that? I don’t know. It was still dark.”

“What do you think about him?”

“He’s a damn good lay…just what I needed. Did I ever thank you for him?”

“He’s an investigative reporter from the old school. Just be careful, Marilee.”

Cal cleaned up and decided to take a ride to Columbia. It was only 3 hours away. By the time Marilee was having a Bloody Mary he was on I-126 cruising into the capitol city. He had no idea what he hoped to find. He was just fishing. He had a contact at The State newspaper and offered to buy his lunch. That always got a newspaperman out from behind his computer.

“Thanks for seeing me, Rich.” Cal took his tray and tall glass of iced tea to a table. His plate piled high with barbecue, hash and rice, baked beans and slaw, a real southern feast. He patted his pocket as he sat down, making sure he had a pack of Tums on hand.

“Hey no problem, Cal. It’s been a long time. What brings you down south?”

“Ah, working on the Senator Jackson crash.”

“Damn shame about that. I reckon it’s a good thing his old man died first this would've killed him. He doted on that boy.”

“What about Belmont?”

“Judge Belmont? He’s retired now. After his wife died he kinda went to shit. Stays hold up in that old house of his down in Walterboro and don’t see anybody.”

“He came to the funeral.”
 

“Yeah, left right afterward, too. I’m not sure he even talked to Marilee.”

“Are they talking at all?”

“Ah, well…no. There was some to do about that house in Pawley’s Island when her momma died. Her momma left it to her but by rights it belonged to him.  Marilee told him to fuck off and as far as I know she ain’t talked to him since.”

“She’s living there now…at Pawley’s.”

“Is she? Well, now.”

“There’s talk, I’m sure you’ve heard it, that Senator Jackson wasn’t on that plane. There wasn’t any DNA testing done and I find that strange considering it came under FAA.”

“Family clout, I reckon.”

“Yeah, but who’s…you think his mother…her father?”

“Could be Marilee herself.”

“You think she’d get involved in that?”

“Huh, you don’t know Marilee. I went to school with her at Carolina. She come back here from up north and she was one dangerous belle. Lovely woman, though, loyal, pretty and smart.”

“Why did you say dangerous?”

“Cause she didn’t want to come home. She tried to rebel, I reckon, and got brought home by her daddy. So she did as she was told but, Lord, that girl…crazy…do anything. I remember going to her wedding. She was so drunk she couldn’t stand alone. But I reckon they did all right as politicos go.”

“Maybe not. He’s either dead or…I don’t know.”

“Well, if he was alive you can bet he’d be letting somebody somewhere know about it, especially with Maria dead, too.”

“Did you know Maria Costellas?”

“Not personally. I just knew her by sight. She was usually in the same frame as John Jackson.”

“Yeah.” Cal wiped his mouth with the paper napkin. “What do you think Marilee thought about that?”

Rich smiled a little and looked over his glasses at Cal. “I don’t reckon John asked her.”

“Hey, Cal, I was just um thinking about you.”

“Oh, yeah? Hope it was good.”

“It was. Where are you?”

“I’m on 544.”

“What the hell are you doing up there?”

“Heading back. I’ve been in Columbia today.”

“Nothing there…nothing in Columbia.”

“What are you doing?”

“Drinking.”

“Want some company?”

“Yes, I do, so get your Pittsburgh ass down here as fast as you can.”

Cal grinned, “See ya in about 45 minutes.”

Diz let him in the door. “She’s out on the porch. Look out for her, Mr. McAffrey. She acts like she’s strong and like this doesn’t get to her, but it does. She hurts.”

“Thanks.” He went on out on the porch. Marilee had a tray with an ice bucket, glasses and a couple of bottles.

“There you are. Come here, Cal…somebody real.” She held him tightly.

“How long have you been out here?” he asked.

“All day. It was the best place to be but it was lonely. Marcy went back to DC. Now there’s just Diz and Jasmine and me. I…I know Diz is gonna leave me, too. I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

Cal made himself a drink. “What do you want to do, Marilee?”

“Me…I forget sometimes I can do anything I want to now. I want to go and get my son and bring him down here and live right here in this house. I don’t want to go back to Columbia, back to Walterboro, back to Maryland, back to DC. That’s what I want to do. Georgia Jackson’s got my Phillip.”

“I thought he was in school. You said you wanted to let him stay in school there.”

“He is, but he can go to school here. She’s got him, couldn’t wait until the service was over. ‘He’ll come home with me,’ she said and I was in such a state I let him go.”

“He’s your son. Go get him. What’s the problem?”

“She knew about Maria. She knew all along. John told her. Can you believe that? Well, he did. He even took her to Georgia’s house…all that time I was in DC with Phillip.”

“Marilee, you said you hadn’t seen him in 48 hours before his plane crashed. Where was he?”

Marilee leaned her head back on the loveseat, watching the blades of the ceiling fan. “He was with Maria.”

“How do you know?”

“How does any woman know? I know, Cal. He was with her in the capitol building, left in the car with her. That was the last time he was seen in public until he got on the airplane.”

“Did you hate him?”

“I don’t want to talk about him. Would you do the honors, please? Thank you. You are a gentleman.”

“I talked to a friend at The State. He said you and your daddy weren’t speaking. Did you talk when he came to the service?”

“You go around talking about me like that…don’t, Cal. If you want to know something, ask me. Daddy and I don’t talk, not since Mama died. Do you know he tried to take this house away from me…dirty old man! He and Mama as much as gave it to us years ago when Phillip was born. So I don’t see him. No, there’ s not many I see anymore. Gonna be even less.” She took a long drink.

Cal sat down on the loveseat with her, took the drink from her hand and held her close.  “You don’t have to see anybody you don’t want to.”

“That’s right and I just want to see you.” She put her arms around his neck. He kissed her.

Conversation skirted around  her life. She asked him a lot of questions about his. Jasmine brought their supper out on the porch and Cal spent the night with her.

Marilee woke and turned over in her bed. A smile began around her lips. He was still there. She wanted to touch his soft beard, his hair waving across the pillow. It felt so good to be held and loved, knowing he wasn’t leaving you in a few minutes to go to another. Loved…he would be easy to love. His hand moved underneath her. She hadn’t realized she was lying on his arm. His eyes opened.

“Morning.”

“Good mornin’. You’re nice to sleep with. Have I put your arm to sleep?” She moved slightly so he could retrieve it.

“Yeah, but it’ll wake up. You’re nice to wake up to.”

“Thank you.” She kissed him softly.

After breakfast he went back to Litchfield Beach. There were things he wanted to sort out and sorting was best done on his own without the distraction of Marilee. He walked over to the sliding glass door of his rented condo and stepped outside. There were a lot of whitecaps on the ocean today. The beach was nearly empty. Marilee told him this was the best time to come to the beach. All the kids were back in school and it was too early for the Canadians.

Something about her bothered him…and he couldn’t put a name to it yet. He called his editor then another reporter and also called Lt. Barstow.

It intrigued him that a senator had a double, a junior senator from South Carolina. Why? He wasn’t a high profile senator, didn’t appear on the news or in print that often.

If it was true…why take your lover to meet mama?

Why had Marilee’s mother taken her son? Why didn’t she feel she could go get him?

Where was the double, Brad Peters?”

What really happened to Maria Costellas?

The only thing he came away with from his phoning was that Peter’s family was being questioned along with his girlfriend.

He had some questions for Marilee and he was going to arrive with his reporter hat on.

Part 4

(Pawley’s Island, SC)

He accepted a drink and they went back out on the porch. He could hear the waves crashing on the shore and the wind chimes were beating themselves up. It was a little unnerving but she wanted to sit out there.

“So this is official?” She smiled a little and lit a candle in the hurricane lamp.

“I’m not a cop but, yeah, it’s on the record, Marilee. I got questions.”

“You know I don’t remember exactly when Brad came on the team. Maybe it was when we first went to Washington because I don’t remember him at all here. He really didn’t look that much like John when you were close to him. He had the same type of build and hairstyle and was mistaken for him a few times that I know of in the last few years. John laughed about it. My own opinion is that he found him useful. He couldn’t possibly be with Maria when he was seen arriving at the capitol or justice building or some function.”

"When did he stop trying to hide her?”

“Three years ago…three years. He took her to Thailand on a fact finding mission. I couldn’t go, of course, because we had Phillip. I was serving on committees and giving charity dinners and all the shit you have to do.” Her voice had risen a little.

“And he took her to meet his mother…why?”

“He was going to divorce me. He didn’t ask for a divorce but he was laying the groundwork. I’m not stupid, Cal. Oh, he introduced her as his most trusted aide…fucker.” She took a drink from her glass.

“Did you have much interaction with her?”

“Are you kidding?” she laughed. “I hated the slut!”

“Why didn’t you divorce him?”

“We…don’t do divorce in my family. It’s just not done. He knew that, knew I’d fight it and he knew it would be the end of his career if something nasty like that happened. No, he was going about it a little differently, gathering grounds and sympathy. I’m an alcoholic or so he said, an unfit mother and yet it was okay for him to leave Phillip with me when he went on his so-called fact finding trips with that slut. I like a drink but I’m not addicted to it. I can do without it but right now I don’t have a reason to do without it, and God damn it…” She stopped and broke down in tears.

“I’m sorry, Marilee.”

“No, no, you aren’t. This is your job and I’m just being a big sissy. Go ahead, hit me with your best shot.”

“What do you think happened to Maria Costellas? You dismissed the idea of suicide.”

“How would I know? She took an overdose of sleeping pills and anxiety meds. Do you think I care…really I don’t …I’m glad she’s dead. She made my life a hell just knowing she walked on the earth.”

“That’s pretty strong, Marilee.”

“I know and I know it wasn’t all her fault. It was John, too. Oh…it all went to hell in a hand basket when we went to Washington. You should have seen us in Columbia…we had that townhouse in Wales Garden, Phillip…it was okay.”

“Did you want to marry him? You said once that your daddy picked him out for you.”

“No…no, I didn’t want to marry anybody, at least not then, but I got caught up in it and swept along. The next thing I knew we were ordering a wedding gown and Mama had the Hampton house rented for the reception. I didn’t love him then but I grew to love him after awhile and then Phillip came along and life was perfect…pretty damn near perfect.”

“Washington happens, Marilee.”

“I know…know exactly what you mean, Cal.”

“Do you miss him?”

“I miss the man I once knew, but I won’t be wearing black for him. I like a black dress now but you know what I’m talking about. I began mourning him three years ago…my time is up…my time has come…the fucker is dead.” She handed him her glass for a refill.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen it. He thought of people he knew, people he once called friends, the ones who came to Washington with a vision and ended eaten up by their own greed for power, position and money. Sex was always available. He made her drink and handed it to her. The wind was making a noise through the bent trees and shrubs.

“Did you catch the weather report?”

She took a drink from her glass. “It will skirt the coast and move on up to Wilmington or Little River. That’s what always happens.”

“Hugo?”

“The exception,” she smiled. “I wish you didn’t have to go back to DC. We could have a great time here.”

“I believe we could, Marilee, but that’s where my job is.”

“You must love it. You’d have to.”

“I get a certain satisfaction out of it…most of the time.” He took a drink.

Marilee lit a cigarette. “It’s a corrupt place, corrupts everything and everybody. You don’t get out unscathed. Scars you will carry the rest of your life.”

“You…is that what you think about yourself?”

“You’ve seen my body. The scars are all inside, fucked up my internal organs.”

He sat down beside her. “What were you doing at Sarah Lawrence?”

“I was going to be a history major and then I hoped to go to Oxford eventually. I wanted to write…” She began to laugh, threw her head back and laughed until she became almost hysterical. Cal gathered her up in his arms and rocked her back and forth until she calmed.

“You must think I’m crazy. Maybe I am.”

“No, Marilee, I don’t think that at all.”

“Diz is going back to DC tomorrow. She’s going to the apartment and get things ready  for me. I’ll show up and sign some papers, attend a few meetings, resign my posts, gather my toys. I’ll go see Phillip and talk to Georgia. Maybe she will let me have him back if I appear sober and in control of myself.”

“Has she seen you otherwise?”

“Yes, she has and if she wasn’t blind she might understand.”

“When did she see you that way?”

“Oh, I don’t’ know…the day John died. It wasn’t a good day.”

He hugged her a little closer.

“You’re leaving when?”

“Tomorrow. When will you be in DC?” He rested his chin on her head.

“Hell, I might as well g,o too. Give me until Friday. I’ll call.” She turned, looking up at him.

“Yes, I want you to.” He kissed her.

The wind blew down a wind chime with a crash. “We’d better go inside.” She blew out the candle and set the glass under the table. “Will you stay tonight? I really don’t want to be alone during this storm.”

“Sure,” he smiled, “storm or not, I’d want to stay.”

The next morning the power was out and Jasmine made instant coffee on the gas grill to get them going.

“Think we could find a place with electricity for breakfast?”

“Oh, Lord, if there is there will be a line around the block. Cereal today,” Marilee answered him. “Let  go walk on the beach and see what blew in.”

“I’d love to but I got a flight to catch if the planes are flying out of Myrtle Beach.”

“I’m so glad you came, so glad we had this time here. If for some reason it doesn’t happen in DC at least we had this. Thank you.” She put her arms around him and kissed him soundly.

“I should be thanking you. You’re pretty special.” He kissed her again. “I wanted to ask you about the bumper sticker I keep seeing around here, Arrogantly Shabby. What’s that about?”

“Oh, the old houses here on the island, they’re like shabby southern ladies, too proud to beg. We like our shabbiness, dilapidated though we be. This property is worth six million dollars,” she smiled.

He laughed and let himself out down the steps to his car. The road was strewn with debris and sand washed over it in places but he made it off the island and back to Litchfield to get packed.

He called his editor. There was nothing else to be gained by staying there. He didn’t elaborate with her but he knew he was already in too deep, too involved to think clearly. In a way he felt sorry for Marilee. She’d been controlled and manipulated all her life but he was sexually attracted to her and that colored everything else right now. He needed to get back to DC.

“So you’ve had a week’s holiday at the beach. What have you to show for it?”

“I’m not ready yet.”

“Not ready? Have you read the headlines?”

Cal rolled his eyes over to his editor. “We aren’t going through this again, are we? I’ll tell ya what I’ve got. It’s the story of a woman scorned, all right, but not like you think…let me finish.”

“The police think they might have buried the wrong man. Cal, we can’t wait.”

“Yes, we can to get it right. We can wait. I’m going to see the mother, Georgia Jackson, today.”

Part 5

(Washington DC)

“Mr. McAffrey.” Georgia held his card in the middle of the door. “I don’t talk to the press. I’m sorry.”

“I’ve spent a few days with your daughter-in-law. I’d like to talk with you.”

Georgia looked him up and down. “Marilee… well, come in and have a seat and let’s get this over with.”

“Thank you. Why do you think your son brought Maria Costellas to meet you?”

Her eyes widened. “I don’t like the way you phrased that. She came with him when he stopped by one evening. They’d’ been working and I believe he was giving a her a ride home.”

“You were aware of their relationship?”

Georgia began picking at her skirt. “I heard rumors, of course. One does. She was a valued employee. Of course there would be some jealousy in his office.”

“You don’t believe they were having an affair, one that lasted around five years?”

“Mr. McAffrey, my son was a married man…married with a child.”

“His wife believes it, swears by it. She believed he was going to divorce her.”

“That’s nonsense! He would never have divorced her. He loved her and their son. They had a beautiful life. He would never have done anything to destroy that.”

“Their son, Phillip, is staying here with you. Why would she feel she can’t take him home with her?”

“Oh, ha! I have no idea why she would feel that way. He’s going to school here in the city. There’s been enough disruption in his life with his father’s death. Marilee is…not responsible…John’s death has hit her hard and as usual she resorts to the bottle. He doesn’t need to be around that.”

“She’s his mother. He might be good for her.”

“What did you do during those few days that you spent with my daughter-in-law?”

“We talked a lot, Mrs. Jackson. She told me Senator Jackson spent the last two nights of his life with Maria Costellas. He didn’t come home.”

“She’s lying. Of course he was home! He was home every night of his life unless he was traveling.”

Cal blinked. “The police have found evidence that he was in Maria’s apartment. Semen on the sheets…it was his.”

Georgia’s face went red.

“She cooked breakfast for two. There were two of everything in the fridge…potatoes, steaks… some of his personal items were found there in the bathroom…clothes in the dryer…like he was living there…maybe a double life.”

“He was my son. I loved him.” She began to crumble.

“I’m sure you did, Mrs. Jackson. Was he going to divorce his wife? Was he trying to have her declared unfit, an alcoholic incapable of caring for her son?”

“It would never have happened. Marilee is an alcoholic but she won’t admit it. He tried to help her. I know he did.”

“Was he going to try…and was he going to marry Maria Costellas?”

She recovered herself, wiping her eyes with a tissue she pulled from her sleeve. “He would never have married Maria. That would never have happened. Marilee wouldn’t divorce him, and I would not have allowed it.” She looked straight at Cal. “It would have been the end of his career, not to mention the smear to his family. His father wouldn’t have stood for it.”

Cal was quiet for a moment. “So…he had to be stopped.”

“I think you’d better leave, Mr. McAffrey.” She stood by her chair.

“Did you talk to him about it…or to Maria Costellas?”

“I have nothing else to say to you. Please leave.”

Cal shouldered his bag and stood. She wouldn’t look at him. “You went to  see her, didn’t you?”

Georgia walked to the door and opened it.

“When did you talk to her…the day she supposedly committed suicide? Mrs. Jackson?”

“I have asked you to leave.” She looked straight ahead.

Cal stepped out of the door onto the front porch. He felt a nervousness inside of his gut and he knew what that meant. He drove back into DC and called Lt. Barstow.

Marilee took a taxi to the apartment. Diz would be there so she wouldn’t be alone. She didn’t want to be alone. Just knowing Cal was gone left her sleepless in Pawley’s Island. The house was too big and Diz and Jasmine didn’t fill it.

As soon as she got out of the taxi she fumbled for a cigarette and remembered to turn her cell phone back on. It beeped at her immediately. She had four messages. One from Cal, two from Georgia Jackson and one from a number she recognized as Jackson’s house phone.

“Mrs. Jackson, you can’t smoke in here.” The doorman stopped her as she was punching in Georgia’s number.

“Oh, sorry, Bertie,” she smiled and dropped the phone back in her bag. “I have some luggage.”

“I’ll see it gets upstairs.”

“Thanks.” She wandered up and down the sidewalk, finishing her cigarette. It was 2:00 by her watch and time for a good tall drink.

Upstairs she found the apartment empty. Diz had been there. She could see her diet Coke can on the desk. Marilee headed for the bar cabinet and poured out a bourbon, taking it neat. She walked over to the mail stack, pushed it aside and sat down on her desk with her feet in the chair. Her eyes scanned the room. This wasn’t home. It was  a working apartment but she and John spent a lot of time there. The lease was still on for another six months. She wondered if she could get out of it considering the circumstances.

Home was in Maryland, a little house in College Park about six miles from Georgia. Oh yes, she was going to call her but before she could her phone rang in her purse. Diz.

“Hey, Diz, I just got here. Where are you?”

“I’m in College Park at Mrs. Jackson’s with Phillip. Her maid has him in the kitchen with a sandwich. Have you talked to anyone, Marilee?”

“No, nobody but you. Why?”

“Marilee, I think you’d better sit down. Mrs. Jackson has been arrested for the murder of Maria Costellas.”

Marilee choked on her drink. Coughing and sputtering, she picked the phone up from the floor. “That’s outrageous, Diz! I don’t believe it!”

“Well, you’d better get over here.”

“She’s…she’s not in jail?”

“Yes, ma’am, she is, waiting on her lawyer to show up.”

Marilee held the drink glass to her bosom. “This is a bad dream…bad, bad dream.”

“Pull it together and get over here.”

“Yes…yes, I’m…on my way.”

Her doorbell rang. It was Bertie with her bags. “You all right, Mrs. Jackson?”

“I…I need my car brought out…wait a minute.” She went to get her car keys for him and a few dollars tip.

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll buzz you when it’s out front.”

Marilee ran into the bathroom and splashed water on her face. She brushed her teeth to get rid of the drink and changed her blue shirt for a white button up and a blazer with her jeans. She grabbed her handbag again and pulled out her smokes.

Bertie held her car door for her. “Mrs. Jackson do you know where Senator Jackson’s vehicle might be? I noticed it wasn’t in his parking space.”

“What?” She looked wild eyed. “I haven’t the slightest idea, Bertie. Thank you for bringing mine up.”

Marilee didn’t want to think about where John’s car might be.

“Come on, Barstow!  I spilled my guts for you. It was my hunch.” Cal took a drink from his Starbucks cup.

“You were almost right.”

“She went over to talk to her about John Jackson, about her relationship with him. Right? Something went wrong, I’m thinking, and she had a weapon, right? Did she force Maria to swallow the pills?”

“You gotta wait, Cal.”

“Fuck no! How did it happen?”

Barstow ran a hand through his bushy hair. “They had a cup of coffee. Mrs. Jackson spilt hers or something like that and while Maria went to replenish her cup, the capsules were opened  into her drink. It was some kind of flavored coffee…vanilla nut. She found the pills during a trip to the bathroom. Maria had a bad reaction from the medical concoction and her heart stopped beating. Mrs. Jackson washed out the cups and left them in the drainer. She drove back to College Park and went to bed.”

Cal pulled out a notepad and flipped through some pages. “And this was on…Thursday?”

“Yep, Mrs. Jackson left there around 6:30 PM.”

“Senator Jackson was expected…dinner waiting in the fridge…he never showed up?”

“Don’t know. Nobody around there saw him. Doesn’t mean he didn’t show up. He just wasn’t seen. Her townhouse is pretty secluded in the shrubbery.”

“Thanks.” Cal headed for the door.

He tried Marilee’s phone again and checked his watch. She should be back in town by now. He really wanted to talk to her.

Marilee’s phone rang in her purse. She was concentrating on driving very carefully.

Part 6

(College Park, MD)

“Cal!” Marilee went down the steps into his arms. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you. How did you track me here?”

Cal smiled a little and gave her a kiss. “I'm a news hound. I followed your scent.”

Marilee led him into her house in College Park,  a refurbished bungalow. “Let’s sit out here. Would you like some coffee?”

“Yeah, coffee.”

“I’ll just be a minute.”

Cal looked around the sun porch. Marilee had a thing about porches. She came back with a little wicker tray and two cups of instant.

“I suppose you’ve heard?” she said, sitting down.

“Why didn’t you answer my calls?”

“Oh, Cal, yesterday was a monster. I’d just gotten back in DC and I got a call from Diz. She was over at Georgia’s with Phillip. I had to come out here and bring him home. I can’t believe it of Georgia. I’ve never been so shocked in my life and you can imagine Phillip is upset seeing his grandmother taken off in handcuffs. That fool of a maid should have taken him upstairs.”

“Where is he now?”

“I took him to school this morning. He’ll be home around two thirty. I expect she’ll be home later today. She’s got a good attorney and as soon as the judge sets bail she’ll be out. What an experience for her, bless her heart. I don’t know how she’ll get through this. I really don’t at her age and with her delicate health…and to take her off in handcuffs, that’s just beyond belief.”

“Marilee, she killed Maria Costellas.”

“Well, yes…but still she’s  59 years old. She only did it for John to stop him from doing something foolish.”

“Did you know about this?”

“No, of course not. I’ve had a talk with her attorney last night. Really…Cal.”

“Sorry. I had to ask.”

“Are you wearing your reporter garb today?”

“Oh, it’s always there somewhere. Just how I am.”

“I like how you are. You have no idea how lonely I was after you left Pawley’s. Sometimes you don’t realize what you have until it’s gone. I spent the day on the beach and on the porch. The air conditioning wasn’t working until the next day. Jasmine and I ate sandwiches and grilled chicken and corn on the cob.”

“Marilee, you told me you hadn’t seen the Senator for 48 hours before his plane crashed. Maria wasn’t found until  Saturday but her time of death was placed around 6:30 on Thursday. Where was he on Thursday night? Where did he go? He wasn’t with Maria.”

“Hmm, I don’t know. He left here for the Senate on Wednesday morning and he didn’t come back. I’ve already given that information to the police.”

“I know.”

“What? Do you think I’m lying…holding out some bit of information? That’s ridiculous! I assumed he was staying with Maria, and I assumed correctly he was there. Maybe he sat up with her corpse. ” She took a drink from her cup.

“Brad Peters was seen with other members of his staff having drinks and dinner at Brennan’s on Thursday night. If the Senator had found her body don’t you think he would have called someone even if he didn’t want to be involved?”

“You’re asking me? Cal, honey, I was not involved in his office or with the people who worked there. I was available for photo opportunities that benefited John or his work. That was all. I said…he left here on Wednesday morning and he didn’t come back. His movements were well documented Wednesday and Thursday up until the time he left his office. For all I know he might have had another lady friend somewhere. He didn’t come home knowing he had a trip that was going to last probably two weeks ahead of him. There’s also the possibility he stayed at the apartment. Just because no one saw him doesn’t mean a thing.”

“His vehicle is missing.”

“And?”

“It’s not at the airport…not in the parking garage he uses…not at the apartment building…not at Maria Costellas’ place.”

“I’m sure it’s somewhere, but I’m not going to worry a lot about it. I have my own vehicle. Would you like another cup of coffee?”

“No thanks.”

“A Bloody Mary?”

“Uh, no…” he grinned, “a little early for me.”

“It’s early for me, too, but you’ve got me all scratchy now.” She felt for her cigarettes. “I don’t like to talk about him. It upsets me.”

“I don’t mean to upset you,” he reached for her hand, “but I like things all tied up in nice little bundles. Sorry, I can’t help it. That’s just me.”

She moved over to his chair and sat on his lap. “I’d like to be your little bundle. You excite me. I want to go to bed with you. Sorry, I can’t help it,” she smiled and kissed him, sliding her hand inside his shirt.

Cal’s hand caught the back of her neck, pulling her to his lips. She smelled fresh and clean and she excited him, too. The kiss deepened. His hand found her breast and she moaned, her fingers digging into his biceps. Her phone began to vibrate on the table.

Marilee tried to ignore it. She could feel Cal retreating from her and she finally broke the kiss. "Damn phones!” she said breathlessly, blindly reaching for it. She glanced at the screen and slipped off his lap.

“Diz…what’sup?” She fished out a cigarette and walked to the other end of the porch, lighting it as she went.

“Police have been here, been through the apartment. They had a search warrant. They asked me a lot of questions, Marilee. I did the best I could.”

“What do you mean you did your best?” Marilee stopped and took a long drag from her cigarette.

“I had to say where I was Thursday night…”

“Bastards…all of them, sniffing around like a pack of dogs. I think Mrs. Jackson has said something.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. She’ll say anything now to save her ass.” She remembered Cal and turned around. “Are you okay? Do you need me to come?”

“No, I’m good. Still at the apartment working, fielding phone calls.”

“Thank you, Diz. I’ll try to get into town tomorrow.” She folded her phone and finished her smoke.

“Well, it seems the police have been to visit Diz at the apartment.” She stubbed out the smoke. “That means Georgia is trying to spread her shit around.”

“What are you talking about, Marilee?”

“I expect they’ll turn up here next.” She walked to the side of the porch and looked out toward the front yard.

“I got in a fix Thursday night. I, uh, had been over to Georgia’s with Phillip. He was supposed to spend the night. She was already in bed so I got her up and she said it was okay. I don’t know; I guess I was drunk. Somehow I ended up in Lexington in a parking lot. I think I might have blacked out. I had to call Diz to come and get me. I was upset, you see, because he was leaving and hadn’t been home to even say goodbye.”

“You drove…you were that drunk and you drove to Lexington?”

“Oh,no…no, I was sitting on the curb when she pulled up right outside Walgreens. I guess I took a cab.”

“Oh, well, there will be records of that. Cab companies keep records.”

“I wish I could remember. It’s like that sometimes…the blackouts. I’m told I function normally but I have no memory of what I did.”

“Yeah, I used to get those sometimes. What time did you take Phillip to Mrs. Jackson’s house?”

“After dinner. It must have been around 7:30 or eight. I’m not sure of the time. Friday was Grandparent's day at his school. Georgia was taking him to his classes."

“Were you drunk then, when you went to Mrs. Jackson’s?”

“I’d had a few but I wasn’t drunk. That came later after I got home.”

“Marilee, it sounds like you’re setting up an alibi. Sorry, but it does. Alcoholic blackout?”

“I guess it sounds pretty lame to you but I swear it’s true. Diz got me home and into bed. I woke up after 9:00 in the morning. The TV was still on in the kitchen. I went in there to make a pot of coffee and there it was all over the screen. Senator John Jackson killed along with an aide and the pilot, small private plane…so on and so forth. I was in shock and I called Georgia but she was at school with Phillip. Diz was sitting out in the driveway in her car waiting for Tracey. Tracey would later make a statement for me, accompany me to Phillip’s school to pick him up and Georgia…we went to her house first and made sure she had someone with her and then we came here. It’s all public record.”

Cal closed his eyes for a moment and ran a hand over his beard. “They’re going to tear you apart.”

“Later in the day, and it was late because there were people in and out of here standing in the yard, police, reporters, paparazzi you name it, and how she got through that throng I will never know, but Georgia appeared right here on this porch. She got hold of me and dragged me now…into my bedroom. We had words. She blamed me for John being on that plane. Ha, ha…I mean the very least I could have done was to be on it with him then she could have Phillip. The only thing she had left was Phillip…my son.”

“How could it have been your fault he was on the plane?”

“On the plane alone. I didn’t know it then, of course, that she’d already taken care of Maria. How could I have known? He hadn’t asked me to travel with him because he was intending to take her with him. That’s probably why he was late getting to the plane. She hadn’t shown up wherever it was she was supposed to be. His own secretary was late and missed the flight because he was trying to find her.”

“Where is he, Marilee?”

“Dead…blown up and burnt up on Bald Mountain. Engine trouble, couldn’t pull up in time. It was raining, foggy. I imagine it must have been horrifying watching death come at you.”

“Brad Peters ordered a cab from the capitol building. It took him to the airport, through security to the private airstrip. Cam Bradford was with him. Where is he…where is John Jackson?”

“I don’t know.” She lit another cigarette.

“Why would Peters leave without the Senator?”

“You are asking me things I can’t answer, Cal.”

“I’m trying to be gentle. The police are going to be a little more direct. I’d advise you to have that Bloody Mary now.”

“You knew they were coming, didn’t you?”

“No, Marilee, I didn’t know they were coming this morning. I do know they never let up and Georgia Jackson’s statement was the fuel they needed. Your initial statement to the press and to the police that you were home with Phillip was a lie.”

“I didn’t make that statement. Marcy Redding interacted with the press. I never personally spoke to anyone from the media. I think I will have that drink.” She moved inside the house to the liquor cabinet and poured out a glass of vodka then stopped by the freezer and took a few ice cubes out for a mixer.

“This is a pretty little house you’ve got.” Cal stood in the doorway. “Reminds me of the one on Pawley’s Island, inside that is.” He smiled a little.

“All the things in this house came from the one we had in Wales Gardens. The furnishings are family pieces, things from my mother’s house in Columbia and John’s before they moved to Washington. I don’t think I’ve ever bought a stick of furniture in my life except in college. At Sarah Lawrence I had a dorm room to furnish. That was fun.” She sipped her drink.

“Marilee…you’re not going to tell me, are you?”

She smiled over her glass. “I’m all he’s got now. There isn’t any other family except my father, Judge Belmont. He always wanted a son…would have made him…president. He thought he had one in John but he got a surprise,” she laughed a little. “John was his own man, a new breed of politician. Daddy couldn’t pull his strings. That was one of the things I liked about him. I always tried to keep Phillip from my daddy. I didn’t want him to be influenced. Daddy’s breed is dying out.”

“Marilee…”

She took a breath and a drink. “If I don’t make it…Cal…Phillip needs a guardian even if he ends up in Walterboro. Somebody sane has to look in on him now and again. He’s at Beecher Elementary  School. He gets out at 2:30. I usually pick him up at the end of the second drive. He’s all dressed in black and yellow today and he looks like me.”

Cal heard the car doors slam out front. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, to lead them to your door. I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t. It's okay. It brought you to my door in Pawley’s. We had some grand times, didn’t we, running naked into the ocean. I’ll never forget that…that freedom we shared.” She quickly finished her drink and squared her shoulders. Leaving him holding her empty glass she walked to the front door to let the detective in.

Cal looked into the glass. He felt as bout as cold as the ice cubes and as empty as the glass. All that talk about Phillip.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the Post man. You could have saved us a little trouble, Cal.”

“Earn your keep,” he answered and dumped the ice into the sink.

“Anything else I need to know while you’re still here?”

“She’s a lady. She has a son in school that I’m going to pick up today.”

“We found her husband in his car partially submerged in a bog down by the Potomac in Lexington. He’d been shot three times. His driver said he kept a pistol in the glove compartment. His wife would have been aware of that."

Cal’s eyes flashed for a moment and he turned, looking out onto the back porch. “I’ll be around until you leave with her.”

“Sorry,Cal.” Barstow looked at him for a moment and went back to the living room.

Part 7

The scene has been reconstructed as Mrs. Jackson still claims no memory of the incident. Senator Jackson supposedly arrived at the townhouse of Maria Costellas and found her body. He  panicked and immediately left, afraid he would be discovered there, drove to his home and parked in the drive.

Marilee Belmont-Jackson heard his car and went to investigate because he didn’t come into the house, finding him slumped over the steering wheel sobbing. He told her Maria was dead. Mrs. Jackson replied that she was glad to hear it. He lost control and hit her across the face. She went around to the passenger side and got in the vehicle,  found his gun in the glove compartment of the vehicle and shot him three times. She dropped the gun on the floorboard and pulled him over in the seat then drove the car to Lexington and down to the swamps, letting it roll down an incline into the water. She then walked the mile and a half back to the Walgreen’s parking lot and called her secretary to come and get her.

Diz Harmon claims Mrs. Jackson was inebriated and disoriented when she found her. She had no idea where she was or how she arrived. Ms. Harmon found her using her GPS. She has stated there was a bruise across Mrs. Jackson’s cheek and she didn’t know how it got there.

Mrs. Marilee Belmont-Jackson has been arrested and charged with the murder of her husband. She is the daughter of Judge Bruce Belmont of Columbia and Walterboro, SC. Judge Belmont is in town to claim his eight year old grandson Phillip J. Jackson. He has also contacted the heralded defense attorney J. Harrison Robb to defend his daughter.

The crash of the private plane supposedly carrying Senator John Jackson is still under investigation. However it is now believed that the remains are those of Brad Peters and Cam Bradford, members of the Senator’s staff.

This reporter became acquainted with the accused and weathered a storm with her in South Carolina. I will, as she has asked me to regardless of the outcome of her trial keep, an eye on her son Phillip. Her life might be described as she once described her home in Pawley’s Island…Arrogantly Shabby.

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