Part 31 (1/2)
Ecold, or Mr. Hamilton, would like us to remove you from the premises we'll be saying goodbye.”
The deputy c.o.c.ked an eyebrow toward Donna, then turned to the doorway. Bill appeared as if on cue. His handsome face was set in a dutifully concerned expression.
”No, of course we don't want that,” Donna said, holding her hand out.
”Bill?”
Bill slipped past the deputies to stand beside Donna. His arm went around her shoulders. She was so small in the crook of his arm. He laid eyes on Tara and her face burned scarlet. He looked triumphant. He looked powerful, as he had wished he could be.
”Yes, you do,” Tara said icily, accepting defeat.
”You don't want me here, so I'll go.”
”Tara, I don't understand all this.” Donna turned her face into Bill's chest. He put his hand in her hair, a comforting gesture.
”Why are you doing this to us?”
Tara walked close to Donna, almost touching her.
”I am not doing anything that Bill didn't ask me to. Maybe he's the one who can't figure out what he wants.”
The deputies pa.s.sed a glance. Tara had their attention.
She stepped forward once more, sanctioned by the hesitation.
”You retained me as your attorney to help you, didn't you? Then let me help you.”
The deputies' ears p.r.i.c.ked. Little watchdogs waiting to see if there actually was anything interesting going on here.
”Things have changed, Tara,” Bill said quietly with a small smile.
”Donna and I are getting married.
She's gonna need me here, with her. I got me some thinkin' to do, Tara. But I don't think you have to worry none.”
”Maybe you're right. I shouldn't worry anymore at all.”
Without another word Tara left Donna Ecold's home, walked across the porch, and climbed into her Jeep. Turning the key, the engine came to life.
She threw the gear into reverse and, with her arm over the backseat, spun the wheel. The car bolted, overcompensated when she pushed the s.h.i.+ft into drive, then tore down the desert road. She was anxious to get back to the city. She had one more stop to make before she went home.
”The polls aren't looking good, Woodrow. I don't know what else you want me to say. We knew this was going to be tight from the very beginning.
But with all this controversy, I don't know anymore.”
Sandy Parker sat back and tossed his pencil on top of the papers spread out over Woodrow Weber's desk. He'd done his best. Couldn't make the numbers look any better no matter how he ma.s.saged them and he couldn't change history-which was exactly what it looked like Woodrow was going to be.
”I don't understand this, Sandy. I've poured money into radio spots in the last few weeks, I've gone to every group that's asked me to speak, and I'm not gaining proportional points even in the short term. It may still be early, but after all this damage control there should have been a change for the better this week. Chris is slime for doing this to me.”
”That's politics.” Sandy picked up the pencil again and ran it through his fingers.
”That stinks.”
”Look, Woodrow. I think it's time we back off from this strategy. We won't try to explain it anymore.
You won't address it. You're going to stand up in front of people and say that you've already discussed the matter. Period. We'll look better than Chris. We'll look cla.s.sier.”
”We'll get killed.”
”It's the only alternative strategy. Unless we can get something tight on him and give as good as we're getting, I don't see any other way.”
Woodrow sighed and pushed his gla.s.ses up on his nose. He glanced at his campaign manager, who was studiously considering the poll results. For a minute Woodrow thought of telling Sandy about Tara. There might be a percentage in committing her client. He'd like to explore the possibility anyway.
He hadn't talked to Tara in over a week, so he had to a.s.sume she was going to hold out until she got what she wanted.
”Woodrow?”
Charlotte stood in the doorway. She was as good a reminder as any that compromise shouldn't be a part of the Circle K equation. He would hold tight a little longer.
”Yes, Charlotte?” He smiled.
”Would you and Sandy like something to eat?
I've got cookies, cake. I could make some sandwiches.”
Charlotte came into the room quietly and put her arm around her husband's waist. She pulled him close and lay her head on his chest as she smiled at Sandy. Sandy envisioned her face plastered all over the city on posters. She was a blessing. He smiled back at her.
”I've gotta go. Charlotte, but thanks anyway.” He looked at Woodrow.
”Want me to leave these?”
”Sure, I'll go over them again later.”
”I'll see you out. Sandy.” Charlotte held out her hand to usher him to the door. She gave a backward glance to Woodrow and knew it had been bad. So she walked quietly to the door, beginning her goodbye as she pulled open the door.
”Tara!” Surprised, Charlotte stepped back.
”Where's Woodrow?”
Tara was in the house before Charlotte could say another word. Sandy moved to the side, knowing better than to offer his h.e.l.lo. Tara looked like a hornet.
”He's in his office in the back, but ...” Tara walked past Charlotte, ignoring Sandy. Charlotte was on her heels.
”Tara, he's busy right now, and I don't think we should disturb him.
He's had a terrible day.”
Tara whirled on Charlotte, surprising and intimidating her in her own home. For that, Tara felt a twinge of regret. She took a breath and calmed herself.