Part 10 (1/2)

Those who noticed Ben's chair made way. The women did double takes. He was a handsome man.

Strong-jawed, tan, hair just long enough, mustache just bushy enough, and eyes so beautifully blue and knowing. Tara then saw the disappointment in the women's eyes as they noticed the wheelchair and turned away. Ben was oblivious.

”Sparkling water. I don't really need a refill.”

”I think you do. In fact, you probably need something stronger right about now.” He c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. She shook her head, hugged her purse closer, and looked around. She smiled at people across the room. She checked her watch.

She thought of Donna and the day threatened to overwhelm her. She watched as Ben ordered the drinks and kept an eye on her. An old world of memories fell in on her. His timing was lousy.

About as horrible as hers had been twenty years ago. Only difference was, she was still standing.

”Come on.” He was back. Two drinks in one hand, the other maneuvering his chair.

”Let's start again. I'll ask you how your day was. You complain.

Everyone will leave and then we'll really have a good chat.” He was moving ahead of her, looking over his shoulder, smiling gloriously when Woodrow caught up with them.

”Tara, I'm so glad you made it!” Woodrow's arm was around her, his lips on her cheek. He whispered, ”Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

Tara gave him a pat, ”My pleasure. I'll make you pay me back one of these days.”

”You got it,” he promised.

r ”Sooner than you think,” she whispered and stood away, still cradled in the crook of his arm.

”I see you found Ben. It's great he's back in town. How about a picture?” Woodrow tipped his head. A photographer appeared. Ben moved out of the way.

”My man, where are you off to? Come back here.”

”Nope. I'm the new kid in town again, but I don't need the publicity.

You go on.” Ben grinned, happy to be out of lens range.

”Jane, come on over here for a picture with Tara and me,” Woodrow called, taking Ben at his word.

Tara gave him a wry look then smiled broadly.

She could feel his eyes on her, even as she tried to stand tall and look good for the camera. Woodrow didn't notice how right she was, how uncomfortable despite her grin and chit-chat. But Ben knew something wasn't right. She played the game, he watched from the sidelines*amused and confused because it had been a long time and he couldn't put his finger on what was wrong. The trio smiled, the flash popped, and it was done.

”Ben, you don't mind if I borrow Tara for a minute, do you? There's someone over here who knew her father well.” Woodrow had Tara by the hand, but they didn't go far.

”Well, here he is.

Tara, do you remember Jim Beckley? He was in Was.h.i.+ngton when your father was attorney general.

He was a Reagan appointee too. Now he heads up his own organization for senior citizens. The main idea is to create a network of transportation opportunities so that our older folks can get around safely day and night. Safety is a big part of my campaign.”

Tara put her hand out. She'd heard Woodrow's speech on crime a thousand rimes and would bet that poor Mr. Beckley had heard it once more than she.

”Of course I remember. Jim, it's lovely to see you again. I know that Woodrow is very committed to our senior citizens. I'm delighted to see you here tonight.” She made it through the speech without screaming. Small talk wasn't right. Not now when Donna was out there with that man.

”You've grown a bit since I last saw you, young lady,” the old man chuckled, delighted to be remembered.

Tara swiveled and held out a hand.

”Have you met Ben Crawford? He just recently came home to Albuquerque from*from parts unknown.”

Ben offered a hand. The older man took it between both of his.

”You're a man I'd like to talk to.

The handicapped have a lot in common with us old folk. Or is that what they call you these days?”

”Physically challenged,” came the reply, but it wasn't Ben who had spoken.

The small group turned to look at the well groomed middle-aged woman who had offered the politically correct answer in an even more politically correct manner. Woodrow obviously didn't know her, but that didn't keep him from recovering nicely. There was more handshaking. Woodrow gave it a you-mean-a-lot-to-me emphasis.

”Nice to see you. Nice of you to come,” he said.

The woman gave him a watery smile and severed their connection.

Obviously, she wasn't as thrilled as Woodrow was.

”I'm a freelance journalist, Mr. Weber. I wanted to ask you some questions. I think I could sell the story I'm writing to one of the national news magazines if it checks out, but I need some corrobora-don.”

Woodrow's mouth turned down thoughtfully to keep his grin from flying off his face. National coverage.

The night was a success.

”Happy to carve out some time for the press.

Why don't we go find someplace that's quiet?”

Woodrow reached to steer her away, then stopped.

He snapped his fingers as if he'd just had a marvelous idea, and said, ”You know, we could set a time tomorrow for an interview if you like. Lunch, perhaps. Hard to get the full story on certain things if you're rushed for time. I could make sure we weren't interrupted, Miss .. .

She ignored him.

”No, that's all right. I'm kind of booked up and this really won't take long.” She pulled a recorder from her pocket, pushed a b.u.t.ton, and held it out to Woodrow without apology.

”Is it true that you refused to prosecute Strober Industries when investigators in the district attorney's office found that they had used inferior materials in a county building, making those buildings dangerous to the public? Did your investigators also find that full payment was authorized for the originally spec'd materials after their conclusions had been reached, knowing these materials were useless?”

Woodrow had taken more than a minute to process what was being said. Tara watched his smile tighten, falter, then fail. He tried to move out of the circle of people. Jim Beckley was enthralled.

Ben's face had tightened as he realized what was going on. Tara tried to run interference.

”Woodrow, I'm afraid I've really got to find Charlotte. I do hope you'll forgive us,” she said to the woman as she stepped between them.