Capital Offense

shook hands and waved to his supporters, then he headed for the elevator.

Television news crews followed his progress through the building. They’d been with him since eight that morning, when he and Carolyn had gone together to cast their votes.

After twelve and a half hours, Warner was still going strong. Excitement pumped adrenaline into his veins. He was overdue to meet Carolyn at the suite they had reserved. The polls had just closed, and he felt great. He stepped onto the elevator with Sammy, the state trooper, who punched the button for the top floor.

“Tonight’s our night,” Warner said.

“Yes, sir,” Sammy replied.

“It’s the close races that mean the most. They make the victory sweeter.” Warner flashed Sammy his two- thousand-watt smile. “This victory is going to be the sweetest.”

Carolyn and Edmund had been the voices of disaster lately, he mused, but he had refused to let them dampen his spirits. He realized the polls showed a close race, but he’d witnessed the faces of the crowd, the faces that affirmed his victory.

They have no faith! Warner thought. He’d never lost an election before, and he wasn’t going to lose this one. He had it all under control. This was his day. Another day of glory on his way to his destiny – the White House.

***

By 1:00 A.M, the unofficial results were in. Warner stepped up to the microphone to give his speech. The crowd had thinned. Filled with disbelief, he glanced around at his remaining supporters. Carolyn stood off to his side, her makeup perfect, a smile affixed to her face.

Warner grasped the podium to stop his hands from shaking. Then his eyes fell on Edmund, who stood in the back of the room. Even at this distance, he could read the disgust on the old man’s face. History had repeated itself, and again, Warner found himself judged unworthy of love. Rejected. A failure. The “bastard” child had shamed the great Edmund Lane once more. Warner watched him turn his back and leave.

He could feel his lips trembling as he spoke the words of his hastily thrown together concession speech. He’d seen no reason to prepare one, and now he stumbled through words of thanks, and of putting up a good fight, before cutting the speech short and excusing himself.

He knew Carolyn was behind him as he headed for the exit. Warner turned, met her sober gaze and saw the stubborn set of her jaw.

“Warner-”

He held up his hand. “Not now.”

FIFTEEN

November 4,1990 – Jefferson City, Missouri

A dumbfounded Warner Hamilton Lane slumped into the chair behind his desk in his home office. It was six A.M. He’d been up all night, grappling with the final election results. He’d spent most of the night driving around aimlessly before returning to the mansion. Carolyn wasn’t at home. She must have stayed in the hotel suite, he thought. He raked his fingers through his hair. How had this happened? He’d been so sure the election was his. How had he lost it?

Carolyn’s list of campaign concerns came to mind. “The airport project will sink you,” she’d warned. “Even if you get the federal funding, you’ll still have to raise taxes. You voted for spending cuts in education. Green is hammering you on these fronts.” Her list had gone on and on. He’d ignored her, convinced that she was overreacting, convinced he had it all under control. He’d been stupid and arrogant, and now he was out of office. A loser.

Edmund. His heart beat faster. The image of the old man leaving in the middle of his concession speech sprang into his mind, making him feel sick to his stomach. At least he hadn’t had to face him close up. Nor had he had to endure the sneer that he knew would be on Edmund’s face. It was the look that continued his inability to measure up. I’ve proven him right, again, Warner thought.

What could he do now? He wanted to hide from the entire world, but especially from Carolyn and Edmund. Disgrace draped over him like a shroud. The worst part was that his position was indefensible. Carolyn had been right.

Once, not lone ago, he could have counted on a loving and compassionate wife, but not now – not after the last year. He had to admit, that was his failing too. Granted, he’d been having an affair, but a man needed a sexual release. Initially he’d intended to hurt Carolyn, to punish her for her deceit and his sexual inadequacy where she was concerned. Hell, it was her fault after all. He’d never had that problem before. But now, with defeat smothering his energy, he found it impossible to conjure up the intense anger that had caused him to strike out at her.

I’ve fucked up, Warner thought. Everything he’d possessed that was right and good, he’d abused or destroyed.

Warner staggered to his feet, then paused. He had nowhere to go. He wanted to die. How could this have happened! he asked himself again and again. His mind spinning, he struggled to come up with a viable plan for his future and his very survival, but he could think of nothing.

He’d always joked with the troopers that he’d have to stay in politics because he was too old to be a movie star. Being a politician was who he was, what he was. He garnered respect from the world and even Edmund in the political realm. If he couldn’t memorize the lines and wave to the crowd, he was lost. He didn’t know anything but politics, he didn’t want to know anything else. Well, he had taught law for a little while, but that was just until he’d won his first election.

Carolyn selected that moment to walk into his office. “Damn you. You insisted on building that airport. There wasn’t enough public support for your pet project. But you still opted to please your father and his friends. And it’s cost you your political career. It was obvious to the voters that you were catering to the big money men. But you thought you were being clever, and no one would smell the corruption. You were wrong, and I’ve had it. I’m done playing the loving wife to a man who has just single-handedly flushed his career down the toilet.”

Heat suffused his neck and face. He could feel the blood pulsing against the pain in his temples. Warner rose to his full height.

Hands on her hips. Carolyn stood her ground.

He didn’t care if he deserved her wrath, he refused to take it.

“I’ll be filing for divorce,” she whispered.

Warner began to shake. He wanted to hit something, to hit her, to unleash his frustration and failure through his fists.

The defiance in her eyes stopped him, and he sat abruptly.

The full weight of her words struck him like a blow to his solar plexus. “You can’t-” He looked at her, desperation seeping into his voice. He knew he sounded like a little boy. “Don’t – please – you can’t leave me.” A sob, pitched and quaking, bubbled up from deep within him.

Carolyn remained silent.

After a few moments, he wiped at the tears on his cheeks, and cleared his throat. “We’ll both be finished if you do that.”

“No.” Carolyn said, “you’ll be finished. You are finished.” She turned and walked out.

Oh, my God, Warner thought. Rings of sweat soaked the underarms of his shirt. If Carolyn left him now, he’d be lost. She was his source of strength and direction. He knew that losing the senatorial race would prompt Edmund to cut him off and without Carolyn’s income, he’d be destitute. He’d never had to worry about money before, but now, he realized, his future was doomed without her.

He stood in the middle of the study feeling disoriented, not knowing where to turn or what to do. For the first time in his life, his charm meant nothing; he couldn’t talk his way out of this. Convinced that destiny was self-