Deadlock (FBI Thriller #24)(66)
“We’d been married maybe six months when he told me in bed one night we were leaving the country in two days. He said money wouldn’t be a problem, we’d live anywhere I liked. I said Bali, thinking he was joking, but of course, he wasn’t. When I realized he was perfectly serious, I asked if one of his criminal clients had threatened him, and he said yes. I knew he was concerned about one particularly vicious client’s criminal father, a man named Showalter. Nate lost the son’s murder case. The son had stabbed his wife, and the evidence was overwhelming. I had no trouble believing someone like Showalter, the father, could kill him as well as me in retribution. I asked Nate if it was Showalter, but he only wanted to talk about how perfect the timing was for us, how we’d have a lifelong honeymoon. He grinned really big, kissed me, and made me promise I’d only wear bikinis on the beach in Bali.”
She paused, splayed her hands in front of her. “Agents, I was in love with my husband, still had stars in my eyes. Leave the country? It sounded like pure romantic adventure to me. I still had my mom, but we could certainly keep in close touch. So I readily agreed to leave the country with him. I remember before I fell asleep, Nate told me I was to pack only the clothes I needed, to leave the rest. It was then he dropped the money bomb. He said he was getting a lot of money due to him the next day. I asked him what money, where was it coming from, but he wouldn’t tell me anything else. I knew he was very well-to-do, no money problems, but the way he talked about that money, his excitement mixed with fear, it seemed like a very big deal to him. I wondered if he had stolen some of that money, but I couldn’t ask him, I simply couldn’t. He was my husband, and the fact was, I wouldn’t believe he was a crook. But Nate never got that money, and he drowned the next day while fishing by himself, they said, something he rarely did. John Clarkson was usually with Nate. I never found out why they weren’t together that day, but I do remember John was home and not in Washington the day Nate drowned.”
42
Savich said, “Nate and John Clarkson had been friends since they were boys, isn’t that right, Mrs. Stirling?”
Miranda looked toward the fireplace when a big spurt of flame shot up from the stacked logs. She sighed. “Actually, once we were married, I soon came to realize I didn’t know the half of it. It didn’t take long for me to feel like I was married to both men. They were inseparable when John was home from Washington. He and Gemma were always with us, always. I was the last part of a foursome, the very young newcomer. I started to wonder whether Nate married me for the sex and because I looked good on his arm. But he kept saying he loved me, easy enough words to say.
“As for John Clarkson, I liked him, and he liked me. He seemed larger than life like Nate, sexy like Nate, and powerful in Congress, serving on important committees, a really big deal.” She shook her head. “The problem was Gemma. She couldn’t stand me. I thought it was because she’d been close to Lorna, Nate’s first wife, but when I mentioned it to Nate, he said Gemma hadn’t particularly liked Lorna, either, that Lorna never paid her any mind and neither should I. The three of them had such a long, rich history together that it never occurred to him Gemma’s not liking me might change that.
“I suppose Gemma thought I was a gold digger. She was old enough to be my mother, just as both John and Nate could have been my father. When my own mother met Gemma, she pulled me aside and told me it had to be difficult for her, having someone her daughter’s age marrying her husband’s best friend. She told me to be patient but to hold my own. Then my mother, bless her, never said another word.
“Of course, Gemma and Nate were also very close, had been for years, and she was very protective of him. Sure, in front of Nate and John, she’d be civil, but no matter what I tried, complimenting her, asking her advice, nothing worked. She always kept me in my place, always treated me like a little sexpot with fluffy hair.”
Savich said, “When we arrived, you said you thought Nate was murdered. Could you tell us why you believe that?”
“Let me say right away I heard all the rumors about John killing his best friend. After all, didn’t they always fish together? I don’t know who started those rumors, but wondered if it was the woman running against John for his congressional seat. Let me be very clear about this, though: John didn’t murder Nate. That’s ridiculous. They were closer than brothers; they shared most everything.
“Of course, I was the first person the police focused on. It would have been so easy, so convenient for them if I was guilty—the young wife bored with her older husband, wanting his money. But alas for them, I was out of town that day, saying goodbye to my mom. As you know, the police ruled Nate was drunk and fell overboard. He did have alcohol in his blood, and the M.E. decided it was enough to debilitate him, so they ruled accidental drowning. It’s true Nate liked to drink, but he held his liquor well. It never made sense to me he’d be falling-down drunk in the middle of the day by himself. Let me add, the local police owed John a lot of favors—he helped their new police station get funded. They wanted to protect him from those silly rumors in his upcoming election, and I believe that’s the main reason they were so fast to rule accidental death by drowning. I told them Nate said he’d been threatened, probably by a criminal named Showalter, that we’d been planning to leave because of the threat. They looked at Nate’s client list, especially those he failed to get off at trial, but it didn’t lead anywhere.”