Finders Keepers (13 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Finders Keepers
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Angus Kingsley emerged from the lavatory and shrugged into his jacket. His hair was freshly combed, but the moment they went outdoors it would be all over his head like a wild bush. He'd obviously run the razor over his face, too. Jessie held his topcoat for him.
“Why aren't you married, Jessie?”
Taken by surprise she smiled. “I guess my white knight hasn't found me yet. I have things to do and places to go before I take a step like that. I'm not finished with school yet. I want my degree in hand. I think I can finish up next semester.”
“Will you leave me then?”
“I don't know, Senator.”
“I don't think I'm going to run again next term. Campaigning is becoming too dirty to suit me, and I'm not getting any younger.”
“I think the season is getting to you, Senator. You belong here. In many ways this is your home. You still have a lot of things to do for your constituents. You'll feel differently when you return from recess.”
“No, I won't. I'm an old warhorse who has seen his time come and go. It's a wise man who knows when it's time to stop and smell the roses.”
Jessie didn't know how to respond to the senator's statement. He seemed lost, sad, and very melancholy. The way she'd been earlier. By most standards sixty-six was still considered young. Strom Thurmond was old. He even
looked
old. Claude Pepper was old. He looked
ancient.
“I have some shopping bags someplace,” she muttered. “Do you want me to call Clarence to come for the bags, or do you think we can manage?”
“We can manage. They do look pretty, don't they?”
“They're gorgeous, Senator. Will Miss Irene think you wrapped them yourself?”
The senator made a sound that was supposed to be laughter. “She knows better. She saves all that folderol. She has boxes and boxes of it. I pay extra for the wrapping just to see the smile on her face. I think she likes the trappings more than the gifts. I want you to know, Jessie, I did my own shopping this year. You were right, my dear, it isn't the gift but the thought that counts. We'll see if that axiom is right when my wife opens her gift.”
“I think this is the last of it. It's going to be a wonderful Christmas for Miss Irene.”
“Oh, these aren't all for Irene. Two are for her son Andrew and two are for Connie. They're twins and in their last year of college.”
“I'm ready, Senator. Will we be going to my apartment first?”
“I'd like you to meet Irene and the twins, Jessie. They live right off Dupont Circle, so it's on the way to your apartment. That's if you don't mind. Irene makes her own eggnog, and I know she'd like us to share a cup with her. If it makes you uncomfortable, I understand.”
He's looking for approval,
Jessie thought.
God, why me?
He was holding his breath waiting for her answer. She could tell he really wanted her to go with him. She smiled. “I'd like that, Senator. You're sure she won't mind.”
“Irene loves young people. She won't mind at all. Did you call Clarence?”
“He's waiting for us. I think it's going to snow. A white Christmas would be nice.”
“I haven't seen one of those for a long time. We aren't even out the door, and I miss this place.”
“Didn't you just say you weren't going to run again?” The senator laughed ruefully. The sound sent chills up Jessie's arms.
There was little traffic in the middle of the afternoon, so the driver made good time before he stopped at a small Tudor house set on a well-landscaped lawn. Jessie could see Christmas lights sprinkled among the fragrant outdoor evergreens. A large, fresh pungent wreath with a giant red bow adorned the front door.
Before the senator could ring the bell he turned to Jessie, and said, “Jessie, I will never apologize or defend my relationship with Irene. This might sound dated and corny to your ears, but this wonderful lady is the wind beneath my wings. I do not like judgmental people. People fail to see that things are not always black or white. Enough said.”
“Angus! How wonderful! And you must be Jessie. My dear, Angus talks about you so much I feel like I've known you forever. She's just as pretty as you said she was. Would you listen to me. Come in, come in. It's cold out there.”
Jessie stared at the woman and hoped her surprise wasn't etched on her face. This was no glamorous, long-legged beauty. This lady was probably the same age as the senator, perhaps a year or two younger. She was plump, pink-cheeked with springy gray curls and wore wire-rimmed glasses.
She laughs
a lot
, Jessie thought.
“I wasn't sure if you'd make it or not, Angus. I'm sorry, but the twins aren't here. They went ice-skating with some of their friends. They'll be sorry they missed you. Shall we have our eggnog in the kitchen or the living room? The tree is up and decorated, and I do have a nice fire going.”
“Then it's the living room. Jessie and I were talking earlier about people who have real trees that smell up the whole house. It's a beauty this year, Irene. I wanted Jessie to see how you decorate for the holidays.”
“It's . . . heavenly, Mrs. Marshall.”
“Stop right there with the Mrs. Marshall business. My friends call me Irene.”
“It must take you a very long time to do all this,” Jessie said looking around.
“I start early. I'm a collector, and this is the time of year I get to put out all my treasures. A lot of my things were passed down to me by my mother and my grandmother. My daughter will carry on the tradition someday. I just love this time of year,” she bubbled. The senator smiled indulgently.
“I love a fireplace with a roaring fire,” Jessie said, sitting down on the hearth. “It sort of brings a room together. I like cozy rooms.”
“One of my neighbors brought me a load of cherry wood and some birch. It burns slow and steady. It doesn't smoke up the room.” Irene's voice turned fretful when she said, “Lately, I can't seem to get warm. The twins fuss at me to turn the thermostat down. Of course they're wearing two sweaters, and I'm in short sleeves.” Jessie took that moment to look across the room at the senator. There was so much pain etched in his face she was dumbfounded. Something was happening here she didn't understand.
The senator's voice was gruff and unsteady-sounding when he said, “Irene, do you have any of your famous cookies? I'd like Jessie to taste them.”
“Of course I do, Angus. I made them this morning when you said you would stop by.” The tense moment passed when Irene bustled out to the kitchen. She returned a moment later with an elegant silver tray loaded with fat raisin-filled cookies.
The hour-long visit passed pleasantly, but there was an undertone of something Jessie couldn't define. When it was time to leave it was her suggestion the driver take her to her apartment and pick up the senator on the way back. He agreed.
“Would you excuse us a moment, Irene.”
“Of course. I need to check on my pot roast.”
The senator's jaw dropped. “You're making pot roast?”
“That's what I said, Angus. The twins love it as much as you do. Potato pancakes, too.” Angus groaned.
“Jessie, my dear, I have something to tell you. I'm afraid I brought you here under false pretenses. I'm not going to Texas.”
“I don't understand, Senator. You invited me to go with you. Do you want me to leave? Should I call your family?”
“Jessie, I don't think I've ever seen you so frazzled. I think you'll understand when I explain. I've never spent a holiday with Irene and her children. This will be . . . this will be . . . Irene's last Christmas. She's terminally ill. I thought I could leave, but I can't. I want you to go to Texas. You will tell my family exactly what I tell you to say, which is I've been detained. It is doubtful if I'll make it to Texas at all. Beyond that you know nothing. Alexis knows you would never discuss office business with her. You can call me here if you need me. Irene plans to tell the twins about her condition after New Year's. She wants this Christmas to be special. If I could turn the clock backwards, I would do things so differently. I don't know what I'm going to do when she's gone, Jessie. I truly do not know. I realize I'm asking you to lie in a manner of speaking. By the same token you are merely following instructions. In this case I can only hope the end justifies the means. Tanner will entertain you while you're there. It's going to be good for you to mix with young people. All you do is work and study. I know you can handle this, Jessie. The twins are going to need me. Will you do it, Jessie?”
“Of course I'll do it.”
“Good girl. My gifts for you, Tanner, and his mother are in the car. Put them under the tree when you get to the ranch. I'll call you tomorrow.” He handed her a small card. “This is Irene's number. Don't let Alexis get hold of it. There's a private line in my study with no extensions. Use that phone if you want to call me. I think you're going to like my son, Jessie. I know he'll like you. Tolerate Alexis for both our sakes.”
“I'd like to say good-bye to Irene, Senator.”
“Of course you would. Irene!” the senator bellowed.
“Good grief, Angus, I was just in the kitchen. You aren't on the senate floor, you know.”
“Jessie wants to say good-bye. I won't be saying good-bye. I'm staying until January 3, when Congress reconvenes.”
Irene's eyes filled with tears as she hugged Jessie. She whispered in her ear. “This is just a guess on my part, but I think Angus is playing the role of matchmaker. You will adore Tanner. You are exactly what he needs. Have a safe trip, and thank you for making this holiday so very special for me. Merry Christmas, Jessie Roland.”
“Merry Christmas, Mrs. . . . Irene. Merry Christmas, Senator.”
“Thank you for making this easy for me, Jessie. Have a safe trip. Clarence has your ticket.”
Outside in the crisp December air, Jessie drew a deep breath as she tried to clear her head. She could think about this past hour when she was on the plane. Her heavy purse banged against her leg as she climbed into the car. When she got to her apartment, if she had time after packing, she'd write the day's events in the log and hide it under her mattress. Or was this one of those things that were better left unrecorded? Agnes Prentis had said, “Write down
everything
regardless of what it is or how personal you might consider it and
never, never
, make light of your own part in the day-to-day operation. When the chips fall, and they will fall, you have to be in the right position to catch some of them.” Whatever that meant.
The small glossy shopping bag on the floor of the car caught her eye. Three presents sat on the bottom of the bag. Two of the three were wrapped in wrinkled green tissue paper with shiny red ribbons. The third was professionally gift wrapped in shiny gold foil with a shimmering red bow. She knew without question the senator had wrapped two of the gifts himself. She rather thought it was the senator's way of making a statement. She smiled when she closed her eyes to envision the exquisitely wrapped presents she'd helped to carry into Irene Marshall's small comfortable home. She crossed her fingers, the way she had when she was a small girl, that the senator and Irene's Christmas would be all they wanted it to be.
 
Jessie looked around the crowded terminal for some sign of Tanner Kingsley. Baggage in hand, she waited next to the baggage carousel as the senator had instructed. Fifteen minutes later she was still waiting. The milling crowds had thinned a little, offering her a better view of the harried travelers. The senator had said Tanner would be waiting in the baggage area. This trip was a mistake. Maybe what she should do was find a messenger to deliver the gifts to the ranch and take the next plane back to Washington. She detested inconsiderate people. Especially inconsiderate rich people. A curl of anger circled her stomach when twenty more minutes went by with no sign of Tanner Kingsley.
“That does it!” she muttered. There was no excuse for someone being thirty-five minutes late. There had been no page for the senator either. Inexcusable. Absolutely inexcusable.
Dragging her bags, her purse, and the shiny shopping bag, Jessie made her way to a bank of telephones, where she dialed Irene's number. “This is Jessie. I'm sorry to bother you, but I need to speak to Senator Kingsley. No, everything is not fine. The senator can explain it to you when he hangs up. Senator, this is Jessie. I'm at the airport, and your son is not here. I've been waiting for over forty minutes. I'm angry and as soon as I can find a messenger to deliver these gifts to your ranch, I'm taking the next plane back to Washington. I'm sorry I allowed you to talk me into this. Yes, I'm very angry. I'm glad you never saw me angry. I'm not a nice person when I'm angry. I deplore inconsiderate, thoughtless people. I'm referring to your son Tanner, not you, Senator. Of course I listened to the pages. They did not call your name or mine. No, Senator, I will not hire a car service or take a taxi. I told you, I'm taking the next plane to Washington. I'm hungry and I'm tired. My friend Sophie would call your son a shit. I think I agree with that assessment. Have a nice holiday, Senator. Good-bye.” Jessie slammed the receiver so hard into the cradle it bounced out and hung drunkenly on its curled metal cord.

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