The drawer on the right nightstand was filled with the usual stuff one might expect, including a notepad and pen to take messages. The drawer on the left side held a brass tin that contained condoms, which was interesting, for if nothing else, she was prepared.
He took a look at her closet, a deep walk in. Claire had been a clotheshorse, which was not surprising for a television reporter. There were a couple of boxes with personal effects, some family pictures, and a high school yearbook from Bristol, Ohio. Mac took out the yearbook and thumbed through it. Bristol was a small town as Claire’s graduating class looked to be about fifty students. He found Claire, with a last name of Miller, so she must have been married at some point or changed her name. Her graduation picture certainly indicated that she must have been the object of many a Bristol boys’ dreams.
Mac left the closet, and went to the other side of the bedroom through a wide archway into what was a large sitting room. When she was home, Claire obviously had spent most of her time here. The room was tastefully furnished with a plaid love seat and chair combination. There was a large entertainment center and collection of DVDs and CDs. Claire was a Meg Ryan fan, owning copies of
There were also a number of DVD copies. Upon closer inspection Mac saw that they were DVDs of her TV work. Each was indexed and well organized, indicating the story she had reported and the date. She also had some videotapes of her work in Denver and Salt Lake City.
A door from the sitting room led into the hallway. On the other side was an office. She had an L-shaped desk with a glass top. A desktop computer sat on the left corner, a tower of CDs to the right. Forensics would go over the computer with a fine tooth comb.
There were a couple of filing cabinets. A quick inspection of the desk revealed she was, again, very organized. Mortgage, investments, insurance, vehicle information-all segregated in colored folders with typed labels. There was little else in the office of interest. It didn’t look as if anything had been disturbed or was out of order. As he finished, Lich came in and just shrugged his shoulders-nothing of interest found downstairs.
They walked back down the hallway to a built-in cabinet. It had bookshelves on top, a drawer and cabinet on the bottom. The cabinet had spare towels, washcloths and some bathroom supplies. The drawer had some decorative washcloths and towels, probably for when Claire entertained. There were a few books, trinkets, and a wood Roman numeral X on the shelves.
A tour of the spare bedroom revealed a junk room, with some old clothes hanging in the closet and a few pieces of exercise equipment. They walked back into the master bedroom. Lich spoke first. “Gotta be someone she knows, because, best as I can tell, nothing’s out of place.”
“You may be right,” Mac replied, unable to argue with the premise. He headed down the steps. As he reached the bottom, he saw Clark and Green walking up. Mac tilted his head up in greeting as they approached.
“Nothing so far,” Green said. “We’ve gone through the apartment buildings across the street. There are a couple of apartments where people didn’t respond, though, so we’ll have to go back.”
“Okay, keep at it. Lich and I are heading down to Channel 6 to talk to her work people. If you get anything, give me a call.”
Nobody had anything to add, so Mac and Lich headed out. Word had spread that Mac was lead on the case, and the media had identified him. As he and Lich headed towards the Explorer, a throng of reporters approached and started shouting questions. “No comment,” and, “You’ll have to work through media relations,” was all Mac would say. Lich, on his best behavior, said nothing.
There were two U.S. Senate dining rooms. One was for use by current members, their families, as well as any former senators. The other dining room, a small one, was only for current senators. It was perhaps the most exclusive restaurant in Washington, if not in all of the country.
Senator Mason Johnson was having a late lunch with the junior senators from Wisconsin and Iowa. They were discussing various issues involved in a farm bill before the Agriculture Committee, of which all three were members. The Republican senator from Iowa had sponsored the bill and was explaining to his esteemed Democratic friend from Wisconsin his displeasure with other Democratic senators who were, in his terms, “fiddlin’” with his bill.
Senator Johnson was hearing their conversation, but he wasn’t really listening. Rather, he was enjoying his tomato-basil soup out of an exquisite fine-china bowl and thinking about Claire.
As he was finishing his lunch, a senate page approached their table. He had a note for the senator. “Come back to the office right away-Jordan.” Jordan Hines was Johnson’s best friend and chief of staff.
The senator was conflicted. He knew his own marriage was over, although he had not discussed divorce with his wife. While he was only fortyfour years old, he had been in Washington for fourteen years, six as a congressman and eight as a senator.
His years in Washington had taught him one immutable truth about his job: it was demanding on a marriage. There were long hours at the capital, traveling, raising money, as well as spending time in the home state. His wife was a good woman, intelligent, attractive, but not one to stay home and be the dutiful senator’s wife. In their many years in Washington, she had become a force in a number of political causes, some of which differed from his own political philosophy. The time she spent on her career and the time required for his had strained the marriage. He had brought up the issues with Gwen, hoping she would understand the importance of what he was doing as a senator and would give up some of her work to be there for him. However, the more he brought it up, the more strained things became. He couldn’t remember the last time they had spent a night together or made love. He needed her love, her attention and affection. Instead, he often found himself alone at the end of the day. They had simply drifted apart.
Then he met Claire. It was early September, at a birthday party for a political supporter back home. He was standing next to the bar, having a gin and tonic and talking to a group of friends when he saw her walk in. She was wearing a black strapless dress and, while very tasteful, it left little to the imagination. Then she flashed that smile he had seen on TV. She was stunning. While he had noticed her, as every other male in the joint must have, he had not made any sort of a move towards her. It was another half hour, and suddenly someone grabbed him by the arm. It was his friend Conner Lund, and with him was Claire Daniels.
“Mace, Claire wanted to meet you.”
It was not often that he was made uncomfortable, even intimidated by anyone, and in particular a woman, but Claire had that affect on him initially. It was her beauty. She was the most attractive woman he had ever met. However, once he met her, shook her hand and spent a few moments with her, he liked her immediately. He found her to be warm, funny and intelligent. They talked for what seemed like hours, both within a group of people, as well as by themselves. There were numerous times each of them broke off to converse with others, but somehow they always ended up back together. At the end of the night, as everyone was leaving, he found himself standing next to her, waiting for the valet to bring up his car. He wondered how he could mention somehow seeing her again. She made it easy. As the valet pulled up her car, she mentioned she was going to be in D.C. in a couple of weeks. She wondered if they could get together for lunch. Of course, he said, just call his office. He didn’t even know if he was scheduled to be in town, but he decided he’d make sure he was.
Sure enough, two weeks later, Claire showed up on his calendar. She was going to stop by the office to say hello. However, it was not going to be around lunch, but at 5:00 p.m. He figured she was busy but would stop by to say hello, probably on the way to the airport.
She stayed for five hours. They talked about everything going on in Washington. She had interviewed for a position with CBS, working in the capital. The job would start in January. She was excited about the opportunity. While she loved Minnesota, she was growing bored with local news and she wanted to work on a larger stage.
Toward the end of the evening, the topic of the senator’s wife came up. He had only told Jordan about his marital problems. For whatever reason, he told Claire everything. She just listened. She didn’t judge him. She didn’t
