Chapter 56
Winston walked into the campaign headquarters, carrying a stack of William's yard signs.
“What's this?” William asked.
“I found a whole pile of these at an old building across town,” he said, dropping the signs to the floor with a loud thud.
“Are you serious?” Olivia asked, stepping closer. She picked up a sign. “These cost good money.”
“Yeah, I was networking with some contacts and someone told me I should go look,” Winston said. “And get this, the property is owned by Lo Dark's brother-in-law.”
“I knew he was behind all this!” William said, snapping his fingers. “He's behind this whole thing. The murder. The stolen signs. The bad press.”
“But he's not behind the credit card scam, and right now, that's our biggest worry,” Olivia reminded him. “For that, we have only to look to your dear wife.”
William stopped short. He wanted to look elsewhere as the cause of his woes, but he knew his biggest headache originated with his wife. William turned to his computer and began typing. He had several speeches coming up and he was working on the outlines himself, now that so many of his staffers had quit.
He didn't have the luxury of allowing someone else to write his speeches for him. He couldn't ask Olivia to do it. She was already doing so much. And Winston had his hands full with keeping the press at bay, and tryingâin vain, it seemedâto get a positive story out about William.
Olivia was right. He had only to look as far as his wife to find the source of his problems.
Chapter 57
Danielle had expected to hear from Troy, but he didn't call.
I know he misses me
, she thought as she paced the floor in her condo.
He'll come begging, and when he does, I will squash him like an ant.
Danielle thought back to her childhood. Her biological father had traded her and the rest of her family in for another one, and they'd had little to no contact with him after he left. It was her stepfather who raised her, the only man she knew as a father, really, and he hadn't been much better. She remembered all the nights he would return home smelling like sickeningly sweet perfume. At first, her mother would say something and the couple would argue furiously, with doors slamming and lots of yelling, but as the years wore on, her mother said less and less.
One night, the day before Thanksgiving, Danielle's stepfather returned home from work with a jaunty step and a whistle. Thirteen-year-old Danielle, at first, was happy to see him in such a good mood because that meant tension would not rule the house that night. But her joy soured when she saw him emerge from his bedroom a half hour later, freshly showered and shaved.
“Daddy, where are you going? It's the night before Thanksgiving,” Danielle had asked.
“Look, don't you get in grown folks' business,” he had shot back, grabbing his hat and keys.
Tears welled in her eyes. “Daddy, it's Thanksgiving. It's the time for families,” Danielle said, grabbing his arm. He shook her off and walked toward the door.
Tears streaming down her cheeks, Danielle whirled to her mother. “How can you just stand there? How can you let him leave us like that?”
Danielle's mother's hands never stopped moving up and down in the basin of dressing she was mixing. “Danielle, there are just some things a woman has to put up with in this life.”
“What do you mean, âPut up with?' You know he's going to see somebody else! How can you stand there and let him do this to us? How?”
Danielle's mother looked up, and with an expression Danielle remembered clear to this day, said, “Sometimes you can do all you know how to do, and a man will still leave. But if you just be patient, he'll come back.”
“I hate you! I hate you! I can't believe you're letting him do this to us! I'll never be like you!” Danielle flung the words at her mother and stomped to her bedroom, fell on her bed and wept into her pillow.
She shook her head as if to clear it of that bad memory. “Yeah, Troy will be back.”
Chapter 58
Nikki kissed a sleeping Psalm lightly on her forehead and got up from the edge of the child's bed. With one last glance, she closed the girl's bedroom door, except for a crack and walked quietly up the hall to the kitchen. She sighed, and ran some warm dishwater. She washed the few dinner dishes and put up the leftovers, save for William's plate, which she covered and put in the microwave. William had missed dinner again, as was his usual custom now. She missed her husband.
When William entered the house at a quarter to tenâwithout a greetingâshe silently walked to the microwave and heated his plate. She set it on the table.
“Thanks,” William said, and dipped his fork into the spicy dirty rice.
“You're welcome.” She poured him a glass of tea.
William ate in silence. The oven-barbecued chicken was so tender it fell from the bone. Nikki sat across from him, sipping water.
“Baby,” she began, “how is the investigation into Reverend Chance's death coming?”
“It's not.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just that, Nikki,” he said. “Nothing's being done.”
“But I thought that's one of the reasons you wanted to get elected.”
“Well, I'm not elected yet, now am I?” he glared at her. “And, thanks to you, I might never be.”
She bit her lip to keep from saying anything. She had thought his anger would have dissipated, but it was still there, even after two weeks. She knew her marriage was falling apart.
Nikki had never been one of those little girls who dreamed of getting married. She grew up watching her mother cater to her stepfather, and to young Nikki, it seemed a ridiculous act. She couldn't understand why her mother closed herself off from her own dreams and desires to take care of her husband.
Yet, Nikki knew she was doing the same thing. For one, she was harboring this secret, this past that would tear apart the life she had so carefully built. And even now, she wanted to get out there and pursue her photography dream, but she knew her husband wouldn't like it. She wanted to say something about the investigation, to press, but she bit back her words, knowing he would disapprove.
Instead, she busied herself with taking care of her home and tiptoeing around her husband.
She had become her mother.
Nikki sat down at their home computer and began typing. She was no computer expert, but after years of watching her husband repair and network computers, she had picked up a few things. Within a few minutes, she was hooked into the system at William's office. She shook her head, wondering how it was that he did not have a firewall.
She hoped she could find some clue to Oliver Chance's last days. She scrolled through the system, looking for an electronic calendar. She paged through file after file. Her eyes widened.
She had to break into William's office.
The next day, Nikki donned an olive green pants suit with a crisp white blouse, and low-heeled pumps. When she dropped Psalm off at school, she drove to the district attorney's office and parked. Nervous and uncertain of her next move, she walked up to the door, taking a deep, calming breath. She summoned all the confidence she could and told the receptionist she was there to see an assistant district attorney.
The receptionist, calm and professional, asked a few questions. “What is it concerning?”
Nikki wanted to turn, to rush back out the doors, but she spoke in a level voice. “I have some information concerning a pending legal action.”
“Are you a witness to a crime?”
“Sort of,” Nikki said. She took a deep breath. “I'm the defendant.”
The woman's expression never changed. “Do you have legal counsel?”
“No. But that's not necessary,” she said. “I am here on my own behalf.”
“Okay, ma'am, well, have a seat, and I'll have someone come speak with you.”
“Thank you.”
Nikki sat down on a brown leather chair. A few boring landscape paintings decorated the walls and worn home and garden magazines dotted the coffee table. She flipped through one of the magazines blindly.
“Mrs. Broussard?” she looked up when the receptionist called her name. “Luke Marks will see you now.”
Nikki stood and smoothed down the front of her jacket.
This was it. She flashed a tiny, tight smile at the receptionist and followed the woman down the hall. The woman stepped aside and held out a hand. “This is Mr. Marks's office.”
“Thank you,” Nikki told the woman.
“Mrs. Broussard,” the man said, standing. He was about five feet eleven inches, with sandy hair and a pronounced tan. Biscuit brown is what came to mind. She could tell he spent a lot of time outdoors. “How can I help you?”
“I want to get my husband out of trouble.”
His right eyebrow shot up quizzically. “Get your husband out of trouble?”
“Yes, I did a very bad thing and he got arrested,” she said.
“Well, why don't you sit down and tell me exactly what happened?”
She took the seat across from him as he leaned back in his chair, staring intently into her face as she took a deep breath. She told her story. Her husband had nothing to do with the whole setup.
“I'll face whatever punishment, but please drop the charges against my husband,” she said.
“Well, we'll need your sworn statement, but we make no promises,” Luke Marks said. Nikki knew lots of people came across his path proclaiming their innocence, but few confessed all their misdeeds and yielded themselves to the mercy of the court. “We may be able to work out a deal, if you can tell us who supplied you with the card information in the first place.”
Nikki's eyes widened. She wasn't prepared to incriminate her best friend. She looked at her hands in her lap and then back up. “I can't do that.”
“Can't?” Luke echoed. “Do you realize you are facing some serious charges?”
“I know,” she said, “but I can't drag anybody else into this. Anyone who helped me did it out of kindness.”
“Kindness?” Luke said. “We're talking about felonies, Mrs. Broussard.”
She said nothing. He pressed. “Look, if you can help us out with some names, I can help make these charges against you and your husband disappear.”
Tears welled in Nikki's eyes, but she breathed in and pushed them away. “I can't do it,” she said. “All I'm here to do is to clear my husband because he had nothing to do with this. As for me, I'll take whatever punishment. But I can't speak against anyone else.”
Luke sighed. “Okay, Mrs. Broussard,” he said, standing. “Have it your way. But I must tell you, you're making a mistake.”
Chapter 59
Nikki waited until William settled in for the night before slapping herself on the forehead. “Oh, I almost forgot,” she said. “I have to run an errand.”
“At this hour?” William questioned. “It's eleven o'clock at night.”
“I know,” she said. “But it won't take that long.”
“Okay, well, I'm going to bed,” he said and walked to the bedroom.
For once, Nikki was glad of the tension, for it meant not much conversation. She quickly pulled on her sneakers. She cast a quick, furtive glance down the hall and took her husband's keys. She backed out of the driveway and sped toward the campaign office. She knew no one would be there at this hour.
Heart pounding and palms sweating, Nikki quickly sifted through the keys on William's chain until she found the ones to the building. She jammed the key into the lock and let herself in. She flicked on a light and looked around.
She didn't know exactly what she was looking for, but knew she had to get a good, uninterrupted search of the office. She knew most of Reverend Chance's items were long gone, but hunted anyway.
She rifled through drawers, turned on computers, even looked under desks. There had to be a clue! She felt certain the charges would be dropped against her husband, now that she had taken all the blame. Now, if she could solve the murder on top of that, surely she and William could get back on track.
She saw an overstuffed box in a corner. She picked up something from the top and realized it was a pile of Reverend Chance's things. Nikki carefully went through the items. Her hand paused over a thick, black book. It was his planner! She started to flip through it. No, searching through it now would take too long. She would just take it with her. She slipped it into her purse. She carefully placed all the items back in the box and stood up.
“What are you doing?”
Nikki jumped at the words, and whirled around. Her eyes widened, and she froze.