Page 114 of Hello, Summer
“Oh.” She giggled. “All right. I usually keep it turned up because I’m a little bit hard of hearing.”
“That’s better, sweet Alice. Now what’s on your mind on this beautiful night?”
“My goodness, Buddy. I can’t even believe what’s going on in this wicked world we live in. I think if more people would read their scripture, we wouldn’t have all these troubles. I couldn’t believe that lady who called in earlier. And I want to say, for the record, that I would not vote for that home wrecker Vanessa Robinette even if she were running for dogcatcher.”
Lillian was working quietly, listening to the radio on her desk. Michael had left to meet up with friends for an evening of video games. Grayson was gone too, probably for dinner at the Wrinkle Room.
Despite her animosity toward Buddy Bright, Conley would grudgingly admit she’d gotten used to his easy, late-night patter with his listeners. She was still chuckling over the last caller’s dogcatcher comment.
She wasn’t unused to hard work and long hours—it was part of the business—but this had been one of the longest days in recent memory.
Once she’d gotten Grayson’s reluctant agreement that she could freelance for theAJCand the network, she’d called both news outlets to alert them on the latest twist in the ongoing Robinette family drama.
She’d stopped work briefly while everyone in the office watched cable coverage of Symmes Robinette’s memorial service in the Capitol Rotunda. It was an appropriately solemn occasion, what with the flag-draped coffin, and lines of somber-faced politicians filing past and shaking hands with Vanessa, who was pale-faced and striking in her black Dior suit, her late husband’s fraternity pin twinkling from her lapel.
Earlier in the day, Conley had handed off the story about Vanessa’s and Charlie’s dueling congressional campaigns to Michael so that she could concentrate on the elder abuse allegation. It had taken the better part of the day to fight her way through the thicket of bureaucrats at the state’s Department of Children and Families to find someone willing to speak on the record about Charlie Robinette’s explosive claim.
“We can confirm that a family member has issued a formal complaint, but we have no further comment until our investigation is completed,” a caseworker supervisor told her.
She’d finally managed to reach Symmes Robinette’s former political patron—and his son Charlie’s campaign chairman—late in the afternoon. Miles Schoendienst was clearly reluctant to talk on the record, but she’d finally managed to pin him down.
“I understand you live next door to Symmes and Vanessa Robinette,” she said. “Were you aware that Vanessa was deliberately keeping friends and family away from the congressman?”
He let out a long sigh. “Vanessa was very protective of Symmes. Frankly, my wife and I thought she was going a little overboard. Since they’d moved out here, we’d had a sort of standing Saturday night supper club. Very casual, just three or four couples. But after she brought Symmes home from the hospital, she made it clear that he couldn’t have visitors. We thought she’d turned into a germophobe.”
Conley was typing as rapidly as she could. “Were you surprised when he left Washington and came home for treatment?”
“God, yes,” Schoendienst said. “Those docs at Walter Reed are supposed to be some of the best in the country. I tried to broach the subject with her, but Vanessa is a very strong-minded woman. She basically told me to mind my own damn business. So that’s what I did. Still, it pained me to see how rapidly Symmes declined.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
He chuckled. “Maybe a month or so ago? Vanessa had gone into town. He drove over here in his golf cart, and we sat and had a beer and watched an inning of the ball game. He didn’t stay long, becausehe tired so easily, plus he said he didn’t want the warden to know he’d escaped from solitary.”
Conley typed the word in all caps. “He called his wifethe warden? And he said he was in solitary?”
“It was his idea of a joke. Symmes had a quirky sense of humor.”
“How did he look a month ago?”
“Not too good. He couldn’t walk very far without getting out of breath.”
“Did you know she was keeping Charlie from visiting or speaking to his father?”
“Charlie and I talked about it,” Schoendienst said. “As you might know, Symmes had asked me to guide Charlie in the process of mounting a campaign committee. I’ve known Charlie his whole life.”
“So Symmes was grooming Charlie to run for his seat?”
“Look, I feel like this whole business is disrespectful to Symmes’s memory so soon after his death,” Schoendienst said. “Been nice talking to you.” He disconnected.
An hour before deadline, her cell phone rang. To her surprise, the caller was Vanessa, who didn’t bother with a greeting.
“I assume theBeaconwon’t be printing the outrageous and slanderous accusations my so-called son hurled at me today,” she said. “Because if you do, my lawyer will sue you for every last dime you people have.”
“Do you deny you were keeping the congressman isolated from family and friends?” Conley asked. “Has a caseworker from the state contacted you about the allegations?”
“I’m not going to dignify this crap by responding to it,” Vanessa said. “I loved my husband and did everything in my power to make his last days peaceful and pain-free. The same can’t be said for his so-called friends and family members.”
It was the second time that day she’d been hung up on, which made Conley believe she was getting close to the truth.
