Part 5 (1/2)

He didn't look bored or enraptured and those seemed to be the only two expressions on the faces of those who came to hear Woodrow. She made a beeline for the expressionless guy.

”You're from the governor's office .. .”

”I'm the man you came to see.” He talked fast and low and for some reason she imagined he never spoke any other way.

”Do you have it?”

”Yes, I do,” she said, slowing things down a bit, not quite sure this was what she wanted to do even if she had to do it. She looked over her shoulder and saw Charlotte Weber, beautiful and put together as if she didn't have a care in the world.

That made her mad*and uneasy. Some people had quite a bit to care about. Some people had worries. Maybe the politicians should think about that. She looked back at the man.

”Could we at least step outside?”

”Sure. Yeah. I've heard enough. The guy gives a good speech, but he's gotta learn to tailor it to his audience. He was all over the place.”

”Everyone's a critic,” she murmured and led the way out the door and into the parking lot. People were already leaving, headlights coming on, weaving about, illuminating them now and again. The woman skirted past a red Volvo, hugged the auditorium wall, and slipped around back between the cafeteria.

”Happy now?” The man was holding something out to her. She looked surprised, even though she'd asked for it.

”I brought it, so let's get on with it.”

”It's only a memo. Maybe it doesn't mean anything.”

A twinge of conscience.

”Look, you read it to my boss's secretary. She took it down and read it to him. If they think it's worth something, then it's worth something. I don't make those kind of judgments. Now, I've got fifteen hundred dollars. You want it, take it. Give me what I came for.”

She hesitated a second longer, then opened her purse and took out a crumpled piece of paper.

She handed it to him. He flipped on a penlight and she could see he had bad skin for a man his age. Funny, she didn't think guys got acne past sixteen. His eyes flicked up.

”You couldn't put it in an envelope?”

”I wasn't thinking.” She fingered the one he had given her. It felt light for fifteen hundred dollars.

She half smiled. She'd never had a bill in her wallet bigger than a twenty. Government work didn't pay much. After the last cut it didn't pay anything at all.

”Sorry. Is it what you want?”

He looked it over, clicked off the light, and pocketed it and the letter. He was neater about it than she.

”Yes, this is what I expected. Thanks. See you later.”

”That's it?”

”What? You want to get a receipt?” the man asked.

”No, but I just thought there should be something*some a.s.surance ...”

Her voice trailed off.

”That's rich. You're s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g Weber's career, and you want a.s.surances that you won't get caught. Lady, you're not cut out for this kind of thing. If I were you, I'd take the money and run.”

”I'm going to. But you should know, I wouldn't have done this if I wasn't desperate. I just found it in the personal stuff I took when I got laid off.

I was kind of mad when I called about this. Now, I'm not so sure I should do this. I mean people could get hurt, couldn't they?”

”Boy, lady, you are a rocket scientist, aren't you?” he muttered as he walked away. The woman was forgotten and so was her concern.

Behind him she was left to think about her life.

She was a really good secretary. It wouldn't be long before somebody recognized that. Heck, ifWoodrow Weber could convince people he was gubernatorial material, she certainly could convince someone to give her a job. Now, with the money in hand, she could wait it out until the right job came along.

Another minute and the woman walked to her car, her step lighter than it had been in weeks.

The man she'd been talking to watched until she was gone. He went across the parking lot and got into a nondescript sedan. Inside another man waited. That man turned on the reading light and they both looked at the memo. Albuquerque. District Attorney's Office. Recommendation to indict Strober Industries for fraud and endangering the public through shoddy building practices. All this in specific relation to the construction of the new county building. The memo was long. It was thorough.

It was specific. Across the face was a note, written in Woodrow Weber's hand they presumed, denying prosecution. Both men smiled. The one who had met with the colorless woman in the parking lot pulled another sheet of paper out of his breast pocket and glanced at it.

”I think the governor is going to be able to use this when he really starts campaigning. Strober wasn't even thoroughly investigated. Seems Weber nixed it pretty quick. Six months later his war chest gets a nice fat check from Strober Industries.

Then Strober begins work on three major developments doing business as three different companies.

Weber's dead meat if the governor keeps the heat on.”

”He will,” the other man replied.

”He's a pro.”

The first put the key in the ignition and chuckled.

”Don't you just love politics?”

Ben Crawford rubbed his eyes. It had been a long day. Five interviews. Five reports to make and the last bit of unpacking to do. He had a.s.sumed it would take Social Security at least a month to get him on line with work, but he'd barely had time to get the kitchen in order before he was up and running*so to speak. Government. Slow as mola.s.ses or quicker than a jack rabbit. After this last move he would have preferred a little more mola.s.ses.

With a groan he threw his head back, rotated his neck, and attempted to knead the muscles at the top of his shoulders. A wife would have been nice right about then. Someone bustling about, whipping him up a little something to eat after a long day, ma.s.saging his neck. Ben snorted, knowing he'd never survive a wife like that. But women were on his mind and it wasn't because he was hungry or tired.

Charlotte Weber had called. Charlotte, who always had an ulterior motive for every lovely thing she did. She'd invited him to c.o.c.ktails. Had he been out yet? Only a few people. Had he reacquainted himself with any of his old friends? A little business, a little pleasure. Woodrow was running for governor, did he know? Fund raiser? Well, yes. Actually. But more a chance to renew acquaintances. Old acquaintances.

People she was sure he remembered. Tara Linl-ey, for instance?

Charlotte had said the magic words. She had stopped him cold with that one and he wondered if he should be grateful. Now he was thinking about the woman he'd been trying not to think of since he'd hit town. It had been a long time, after all.

Water under the bridge. Fond memories. Loving memories. He'd leave it at that. Unless, of course, he happened to run into her. Unless, of course, he happened to involve himself in something like-well*politics.

Ben laughed outright and switched off the desk light. The reports could wait. He was hungry. He was tired. He would decide about tomorrow night, tomorrow night. Then he wondered who he was kidding.