The Election (12 page)

She turned around and poked her head back into his office.

“I'm sorry about before.”

Madge raised an eyebrow.

“I was just blowing steam, you know? It's been a long five days,” Jake tried.

She wagged her head. “Don't worry about it. I know it's been tough. But thanks anyway.”

After Madge left, Jake leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on his desk. Jake's part of the Scott settlement would be just over $80,000. Somebody had to be looking out for him, he thought, but he wasn't sure why. For just the briefest of moments he was able to relax, to forget about Jed McClellan. He quickly calculated that he would clear about $50,000 after splitting the fee with Barrett and covering overhead expenses.

How was he going to spend the money? he asked himself. Certainly he'd invest some of it. After that, perhaps a trip with his family. Or maybe they could buy a new car. There were so many possibilities. He needed to call Rachel and tell her the good news. Everything was finally back in the right order…

A minute later his daydreaming was interrupted by the receptionist's voice over the intercom. “Jake.”

Jake glanced at his watch.
8:45.
The short respite had been nice, but now it was back to reality. He'd have to wait a little longer before sharing the good news with his wife. “Yes, what is it?”

“Ms. Naomi McClellan is here to see you.”

Jake paused. He didn't have an appointment with Naomi McClellan but, after all, she was Jed's mother. She probably needed a shoulder to cry on, so to speak, and Jake needed to talk with her about Jed's case anyway.

“OK,” Jake agreed. “I'll have Madge show her back.”

As he waited for Naomi's arrival, Jake wondered whether she realized that at best Jed would spend the rest of his life in jail. Fate had already been unfair to Naomi McClellan, Jake knew. Her father had probably been executed by the Klan, and her husband had deserted her. Naomi didn't deserve another tragedy.

But nobody ever said life is fair,
Jake thought, shaking his head.

His office door opened, and Madge ushered Naomi McClellan in.

“Please sit down.” Jake pointed at one of the chairs. “May I offer you something to drink?”

Naomi wore the same worn blue dress with a white collar and five white buttons marching down the front that she had worn at Jed's arraignment.

“I'm fine,” Naomi replied politely. She sat where Jake had indicated and set her purse on the floor beside her. Her face looked tired and worried. “Thank you anyway.”

“How are Ruth and the kids doing?” Jake asked as he sat back down behind his desk.

She sighed. “Terrible. Just terrible. I'm not sure how much more Ruth can take. She hardly sleeps. Tosha cries for her daddy all the time, but Derrick thinks he needs to be the man of the house. He thinks he needs to take care of Ruth and Tosha. Protect them. I'm afraid Ruth's gonna have a nervous breakdown if Jed don't come home soon.”

“How are
you
doing?” Jake asked sympathetically as he studied her.

Naomi had birthed Jed and nurtured and raised him most of his life without the help of any spouse, Jake knew. And now he saw the glimmer of determination in her eyes. As if she would be willing to trade places with Jed in an instant, even if that meant living out her life in jail…or dying in his place. He marveled at her courage.

“I'm OK,” Naomi answered, but tears began to stream down. “It's tough, you know, but I'm gonna make it.” She forced a smile. “The folks at the church have been good to me, and I know God's in control. We're gonna be OK.”

The words fell flat against Jake's ears. Perhaps he'd heard them too much when he did attend church. And then, in his line of work, he'd seen too many things out of control to believe there was a God who was in control anymore.

“I'm doing everything I can for Jed,” Jake assured her. “You know that, don't you?”

“I know,” she replied.

Then her expression changed to one Jake couldn't quite identify.

“Do you have any children, Mr. Reed?” Naomi asked.

“Call me Jake, and yes, I do. Rachel and I have three kids.”

“Would you do anythin' you could to protect 'em?”

“Absolutely. Rachel and our kids are the only family I have.”

She looked at him quizzically. “Would you sacrifice your own life to protect them?”

“Of course I would, Ms. McClellan,” Jake replied. “They're my children. But that's a strange question. Why did you ask it?”

“There's somethin' I need to tell you,” Naomi said. “I don't know if it will help or not, but I think you need to know.” She paused, one hand twisting a button on her dress. “It's difficult for me to talk about. I've spent thirty years hidin' from the truth, but it found me. I've never told anyone about this, not even Jed.”

“What is it, Ms. McClellan?” Jake prodded, giving her his full attention.

Naomi took a shaky breath and averted her eyes. It was clear she didn't want to look Jake in the face. “Jesse Thompson is Jed's father,” she said quietly.

Over the years of his practice Jake had learned to expect the unexpected. Despite the best pleas or threats, clients never told him everything. A personal-injury client would lie about prior injuries. A criminal defense client would lie about prior arrests. When the truth came out—and it usually did—there was always more damage to the case than if the client had been truthful on the front end.

As a result Jake had become cynical. He'd learned to hold himself back from getting involved with clients. He thought he was prepared for anything.

But nothing could have prepared him for the news Naomi McClellan just delivered.

Jake didn't realize he was staring at Naomi until she glanced at him. The slight movement of her head caused Jake to blink. “I don't understand,” Jake said finally, cutting through the tension in the room. “How could Jesse Thompson be Jed's father?”

Naomi continued to fumble with the middle button on her dress. “He raped me,” she replied without emotion.

Jake felt something kick in his gut. Sadness? Anger? Disbelief? He lowered his head for a minute, supporting his chin with his fist.

Was it true?
If so, he was amazed even more at this older woman's courage.
How difficult it must be for her to talk about this.
He suspected it was a secret Naomi had planned to carry to her grave. But now Jake knew. And he didn't want to add any more to her embarrassment by asking further questions. So he waited for her to continue.

“I remember the day like it was yesterday. I had been working at the Thompson house only a few weeks. Mrs. Thompson had gone to town, and I was in the bedroom makin' up their bed. Mr. Thompson came in, threw me on the bed, and raped me.”

When Naomi was silent for a few seconds, Jake asked, “Did you tell anybody?”

She sighed. “In those days blacks didn't have no rights. If I had gone to the police, they would have just laughed at me. I never even told my husband. He was light-skinned, like Jed. He thought Jed was his son.”

“Why did you keep working for Jesse Thompson?”

“I was a young black woman. I had little schoolin'. Where else was I gonna work? I needed a job then—and especially five years later, after my husband left. Mrs. Thompson paid me well. Treated me well. So I stayed. It never happened again, and I never even told Mr. Thompson that Jed was his. I was afraid to.”

Jake rubbed his chin thoughtfully. The story was unbelievable. But if it was true—and only a blood test or DNA testing could confirm its truth—Jesse Thompson was the father of the man accused of murdering him!

“Ms. McClellan, you know that if I tell your story, the world will soon know your secret, don't you?”

“I know.” She lifted her chin.

“There will be a lot of questions.” Jake caught her eye before he continued. “It's not as if you're accusing a common criminal of rape. This is Jesse Thompson you're talking about. You'll be called a liar, and nobody will believe you. Everywhere you go in town, people will be pointing at you and whispering.”

“I've thought about all that.”

“Are you willing to take that chance?”

“I don't care what happens to me. I'll do anythin' to help Jed.”

Jake would have a lot more questions for Ms. McClellan later. Right now he needed to decide how to use this information to help Jed. “Ms. McClellan, I need to think about what you have told me. And how this information could impact Jed's case. To figure out how to reveal it to anybody else.”

Naomi must have sensed his hesitation. His struggle to believe her story. “I know it's hard to believe, but it's true,” she insisted. “Jesse Thompson is Jed's father.”

“We've got to prove that with more than your word, and that may be difficult.”

How am I going to get a sample of Jesse Thompson's blood?

“I understand,” Naomi said. “I'll do whatever you need me to.” She picked up her purse. “I've taken up enough of your time. You've got other things to do.”

“You can stay as long as you like,” Jake offered. And he meant it.

“I know, but I really need to go.”

Jake understood. He was the only person in the world who knew her secret, and she had to escape from his presence.

“Good-bye,” she said softly and left.

He stood to shake her hand and then watched as she walked down the hall toward the reception area.

How brave she is,
he thought again.
Not only for telling me and risking scorn, but also for working every day, all those years, for the very man who had violated her.

He wondered. Could he have done such a thing? And what about if it had happened to his wife? Or his daughter?

Jake shook off his heavy thoughts and closed the door.

Jake hadn't been able to uncover any information about the black pickup Jed described to him immediately after his arrest. Every place Jake turned had been a dead end.

Now Naomi McClellan had just offered the first real break in the case, and he had a lot of work to do.

 

New York City

The first interview Shannon Foster had ever done was conducted before a live audience at a studio on Broadway in New York City, but was being taped to be replayed at the designated time slot. She sat on the stage at the bottom of the amphitheater-styled studio with Lori Curry, the show's host. Lori was an attractive, petite brunette, and her show was watched in millions of homes across the country.

Shep watched from just offstage.

After introducing Shannon to the audience, Lori asked, “How long have you and Senator Foster been married?”

Shannon smiled. “We had our twenty-eighth wedding anniversary in June. And it's been the most wonderful twenty-eight years of my life.”

A rousing round of applause erupted from the audience as congratulations for the longevity of Mac and Shannon's marriage.

“Twenty-eight years!” Lori exclaimed. “You don't look old enough to have been married that long. I've got to know your secret.”

Applause mixed with laughter arose from the audience.

Shannon chuckled lightly and crossed her legs at the ankles. Shep thought she appeared almost embarrassed by the compliment, but that wasn't bad, either.

It was clear that everyone in the studio recognized that Shannon was very attractive. Her blond hair showed no signs of graying. Her green eyes were still intoxicating, and her face was wrinkle free. Shep knew she exercised regularly, and it showed. Her taut, five-foot-six frame made her appear thirty-five instead of fifty-five. If any middle-aged man saw the show, he would be envious of Mac Foster.

“Seriously,” Lori resumed after the applause died down, “you're a very beautiful woman, and I'm glad you're able to be with us on the show. Tell me, Mrs. Foster, as First Lady, what would be the number one thing you'd like to accomplish?”

“I have always had a special place in my heart for children,” responded Shannon. “I believe there is so much more we can do for our children. They are our future, and we need to educate them, love them, and protect them.”

“Do you anticipate having an active role in your husband's presidency, should he be elected?”

“Oh, I doubt it. My husband is very capable of running the country without my help,” Shannon quipped.

The audience laughed.

She's scoring a few points for the Foster campaign
, Shep thought.
We did the right thing.

“Mrs. Foster,” Lori continued, “tell us a little about Senator Foster.”