She could see how much he loved his position. He came home with a gleam in his eyes, his heart pounding from adrenaline. He’d beam when telling her about obtaining funding to fix a few potholes that had caused problems on Fredrick Douglass Boulevard, or when he helped a local storeowner gain a liquor license. Couldn’t she see he was helping people?
After his first year in office, Hunter started coming home later and later. Meetings ran late, events kept him into the night, he needed to schmooze with his colleagues. He became friendly with local developers and landlords and sometimes they did a favor or two for each other. That’s how city politics works. That’s how things were done. Hunter was helping people. Everyone was benefitting.
After his second year in office, Rhonda had had enough. She didn’t like that he often came home smelling like expensive cigars or that he had a watch collection that was worth more than their apartment. He seemed like he was getting too close to being the kind of person Madeline would have wanted and that crossed a line for Rhonda. She began snooping in his office, going to the storefront late at night after Hunter had already locked up and left. She’d searched through his desk, and all the files on it with city ordinances, notes in his scribbly handwriting, and memos he wrote. She’d searched and searched until she found exactly what she needed to end it with him.
She knew she’d been right not to trust him. And then she had proof. Proof so good, that she knew she could get whatever she wanted from Hunter. If he refused, well, jail would be like a spa holiday in comparison to where he could end up. She took her proof and their daughter and bought a one-way ticket to California. She’d never been on a plane before. Hell, she’d only left the state of New York once when Hunter took her on a vacation to the Jersey Shore. But she had heard great things about California. It was a place where dreams came true and she wanted to be there. She knew, of course, that Madeline lived there, but that was definitely not why Rhonda chose California. Definitely not, she told herself. But being able to vote against her wouldn’t hurt.
That night she had watched Madeline’s reelection campaign launch speech live. She saw Hunter give his endorsement and whisper something in her ear. It made Rhonda livid. So livid that she couldn’t sleep that night. Which was why she was awake when Madeline parked in front of her house.
Chapter 33
It was a quiet neighborhood where cars slept at night before being woken up to commute in the morning. Rows of one-story houses with grass and shrubbery lined the street that was lit up by the tall overhead lamps. Madeline had never been in that neighborhood before. It was just a stone’s throw away from her own—where houses had at least two stories, balconies, and lawns that were manicured as fashionably as the women who lived there. If these houses were described in a real estate ad, they would have been called quaint, comfy, and homey. Madeline slowed her car as she searched the houses for numbers… 1214…1220…1226…1232.
She parked right in front, noticing the porch light was on like someone had been expecting her. Before walking inside, she sat in her car and reviewed what she wanted to say to Rhonda. She had a few options, and she would decide the best once she came face to face with the woman. She knew Hunter wanted money to pay for his divorce. Madeline could try to convince Rhonda that an expensive divorce made everyone (except the lawyers) lose. Or she could try to see if Rhonda knew of her situation with Hunter. Was it possible she was behind it? If not, could she help Madeline end it?
Madeline was sitting in the car when a figure opened the front door of the house and peered through. When Madeline saw the figure, she knew her time was up and she stepped out of the car. As she approached the door she noticed the figure had a gun held in her hand facing the floor. The sight made her heart skip, but she pretended not to notice.
“Rhonda Williams?” Madeline asked quietly, as though afraid to wake the neighborhood up.
“Madeline?” Rhonda said in surprise. She had never expected to see Madeline close up again. “Hunter ain’t here.”
“I came to talk to you,” Madeline responded. When she was in front of the door, she smiled brightly at the shadowed face in front of her. The porch light was not enough for her to make out Rhonda’s large brown eyes and thin lips that may have triggered something in her memory. “You know who I am?”
Rhonda scoffed. It almost felt like a joke, being asked that question. Of course she knew. Not only was Madeline’s face all over the news, but she had been a constant figure in all of Rhonda’s dreams and nightmares. But Rhonda also knew how to play it cool. “You’re that senator lady. But I ain’t voting for you.”
Madeline smiled. “Could I come inside?” Madeline said it more like a command than a question. The right tone could get you almost anything and Madeline needed to sit down with Rhonda. Rhonda opened the door and invited Madeline into her living room.
“But shh, my daughter is asleep.” Rhonda led her to a blush red couch that had a knitted blanket draped over the back. It sat in front of an oversized TV and a coffee table covered in teen magazine and toy
