Page 110 of Hello, Summer
“Charlie, are you saying you suspect that your mother had something to do with your father’s death?”
“Not at all,” Robinette said firmly. “I thought it was my duty to report my concerns about my father’s welfare to state authorities. I will leave it to them and to related law enforcement authorities to carry out their investigations.”
Conley opened her mouth to ask her own question, but Buddy Bright beat her to the punch. “Why do you think your mother was keeping your father a prisoner in his own house?”
“I have no idea,” Charlie said. “You’d have to ask her that question.”
Conley waved her hand over her head. “When was the last time you saw your father? And what were the circumstances, since you say Vanessa blocked you from entering Sugar Key?”
Robinette’s faced flushed slightly. “I’m not going to talk about that right now.”
She plunged on with her next question. “Yesterday, Vanessa toldThe Silver Bay Beaconthat your father had decided you weren’t mature enough to run for Congress and that he’d urged her to run for his seat. Did your dad tell you that he’d changed his mind and was supporting her as a candidate?”
“My father never told me any such thing,” Charlie shot back.
“So if your mother says that, she’s lying?” the CBS reporter called.
“No comment,” Charlie said.
Kennedy tugged at Charlie’s sleeve and whispered something in his ear. He nodded and cleared his throat as she stepped back to the microphone.
Sensing it was her last chance, Conley called out a final question.
“What’s this mean for your father’s memorial service in Washington? Shouldn’t you be on your way there right now?”
Charlie and his fiancée had another whispered exchange.
“Out of respect for my father’s memory and a desire to maintain a dignified atmosphere at this memorial of my father’s legacy of service to our country, I made the decision not to attend the ceremony in the Capitol Rotunda today. Of course, I’ll be paying my respects at the service to be held here in his hometown this weekend, with the rest of our extended family.”
“That’s it for today,” Kennedy announced. “But you can expect to hear more from Charlie in the coming weeks and months as we launch his campaign for the U.S. House of Representatives. We’d like to thank y’all for coming out today.”
She quickly hustled Robinette toward the steps at the rear of the platform. Conley tried to follow, but her progress was slowed by the two broadcasters, who stepped in front of her to start disassembling their gear.
“Move, damn it,” she growled at the CBS cameraman.
He turned around, startled. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m from the local paper, and you’re in my way,” she replied, whipping around him to see which way Robinette had gone.
Just as she reached the edge of the square, she spotted her quarry standing on the passenger side of a white SUV. “Hey, Charlie,” she called. He looked up, but when he saw her, he shrugged, got into the car, and closed the door. The SUV drove off.
Conley raced back to her Subaru and called Grayson from the car.
“Anything good?” Grayson asked anxiously.
“Charlie Robinette just stood up on the courthouse square, with his fiancée-slash–press secretary, who also happens to be Kennedy McFall, and announced that two weeks before Symmes died, he filed a claim of elder abuse against his mom with the state.”
“Say again?”
“He said Vanessa had been holding his dad hostage in his own home, isolating him from all his colleagues, friends, and family. Took away hiscell phone and ordered the security guards at Sugar Key not to allow Charlie onto the property.”
“Tell me you’ve got that on tape,” Grayson said.
“I videoed the whole thing,” Conley assured her. “Charlie claimed Vanessa brought Symmes home three months ago, against the advice of his doctors at Walter Reed.”
“Oh my god. This is so great,” Grayson said.
“There’s plenty more,” she promised. “I’ll tell you the rest when I get there.”
