Best Laid Plans(11)

Barry narrowed his eyes at Lucy, then walked over to Adeline and said, “Why don’t we sit back down? I only have a few more questions.”

Barry steered Adeline back to the couch. Her questions were valid, though perhaps she should have asked them more diplomatically. Maybe Lucy was projecting, because it bothered her more than it should that Adeline had told Jolene about her father’s death over the phone. Yet Barry himself had been blunt with Adeline. What had Lucy done wrong?

Barry said, “So you don’t know if Mr. Worthington had any major health issues?”

“No. He played golf, rode his horses almost every day when he was in town. He’s not that old, he’d have been fifty-five this September.”

“Do you know why he flew from Dallas to San Antonio last night?”

“No. He would have told me. If not me, then Jolene. They worked together. He was grooming her to take over HWI. For me,” she added wistfully.

“I don’t understand,” Barry said.

“I wanted Harper to spend more time with me in D.C. He didn’t like the travel, or the socializing—he’s an accountant, he preferred numbers to people. But this election has been difficult—my opponent is an air force veteran, well liked, well funded by his party. Harper recognized that us being seen together was good for my career, and he supported me fully. He was the one who urged me to run in the first place when Roy—Roy Travertine—died while in office. Roy and Harper had been very good friends. But Harper was the face of HWI, so he couldn’t take much time off. It’s much harder for a male spouse in this business, than if our roles were reversed.” She pulled a tissue from her small jacket pocket and averted her gaze while she dabbed at her eyes.

“Agent Crawford,” she said after a moment of silence, “what really happened to my husband?”

“It appears to be natural causes, but because of the circumstances, we’re investigating. Not only because he was married to a federal official, but also because his company has several sensitive federal contracts.”

“You said he was with a prostitute … I can’t even imagine why he’d do such a thing.”

Lucy’s ears perked up. It was how Adeline had phrased the comment.

“But you believe he could have?”

“Before today, no. I’d never have considered it. Are you certain this witness is reliable? Perhaps he or she was mistaken.”

“Did you suspect your husband of having an affair?” Lucy asked, ignoring Barry’s sidelong glance.

“Of course not. Harper wouldn’t do that to me. He knows that my career is important, that this election is critical. My party has hired additional campaign staff, allowed me to spend more time in the district to make sure I’m doing what I need to be doing to show my constituents that I’m accessible. Harper was a kind and generous man.” But she looked away, as if she was thinking about something specific.

Before Lucy could press her, Barry asked, “Had your husband disappeared before? Taken a spontaneous trip?”

“Never. Not as long as we’ve been married.” She hesitated, then added, “He travels to Dallas monthly for business. HWI has an office there, because so many of his clients are based in Dallas. HWI also has a small office in Arlington, Virginia, just outside of D.C.—because of their military contracts. He goes there two or three times a year.”

Mr. Contreras entered the room. “Ma’am, I wouldn’t normally interrupt, but Senator Clarkson is on the phone.”

She quickly stood and looked both embarrassed and a bit panicked. “I forgot all about our scheduled call.”

Barry rose. “We’re done for now. I’ll be in touch when we have more information about your husband’s death. Would you like to release the information to the press or would you like the FBI to do so? We won’t be sharing any details of the investigation.”

She hesitated, then said, “Can I have a few hours? I need to wrap my mind around what’s happening.”

Barry nodded. “I would suggest you do so today, in case the press gets wind of it. We’d request you reveal no specific information until we have cause of death.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Agent Crawford.” She shook Barry’s hand, then Lucy’s. “Agent—I don’t remember your name. I’m sorry.”

Lucy handed her a card. “Kincaid,” she said.

“Right. Kincaid. Thank you. Mr. Contreras will see you out.” Lucy had the distinct impression that the woman was lying about something.

*



Barry was silent for the first ten minutes of the drive to Harper Worthington’s office. Lucy knew he was angry with her, but she didn’t make a peep.

“What in the world were you thinking going after a member of Congress like that?”

“I wasn’t going after her,” Lucy said.

“Your questions were hostile and insensitive. She’s in a position to have you removed from this investigation. I don’t think you need another black mark on your record.”

Lucy bristled. “I don’t know what you think you know about me or my record, but I stand by my questions. Without asking, she contacted the deceased’s daughter. Over the phone. That was insensitive.”

“We do not judge how other people handle their personal lives. The congresswoman is not a suspect under interrogation.”