Deadly Descent by Charlotte Hinger Page A

nodded, and glanced at my watch. “I’ve got to call Judy.” I reached for my cell, then remembered it was on the car charger. “Whoops. Do you mind?” I gestured toward the phone on his desk.
    “Go right ahead.” He paced back and forth like a jungle cat in a zoo.
    I asked Judy to stay in the office until I got back and said I would bring her a sandwich from Bertha’s Deli. I watched Brian as I talked. He looked terrible, incredibly weary with dull eyes and that still sallow skin.
    “She’s crazy,” he said, the moment I hung up.
    I sat down in one of the leather arm chairs. “The problem with your mother is that she’s not crazy
enough,
or there would be plenty of things we could do.”
    He smiled ruefully. “She’s about to do me in.”
    “After seeing her, hearing her today, I’m seeing Fiona in a different light.”
    “I don’t want to hurt her. Most of what’s good about me, most of what’s put me ahead of the pack, has come from my mother. Not that I don’t love and admire my father. But he’s a…”
    “Plodder?” I suggested gently.
    “Yes, a plodder. Feet on the ground. It’s Mom’s side of the family, the Rubidoux, who have meant everything to me. I’ve always loved those people. The stories, the sacrifices. I’m prouder to be a Rubidoux than words can express. They’re my blood, and to have Mom show all their worst traits is about to kill me. Not that there’s
not
plenty of skeletons in our family closet. But we’re heroic people. There’s been a Rubidoux in every single war this country has ever fought.”
    “Brian, I’ve been dreading this moment, but I’ve got to ask. Is there any way Fiona could have been involved in Zelda’s murder? I’m asking you as your friend and as your county campaign manager.”
    “No,” he said flatly. Coldly. He looked at me steadily. “Absolutely not. I was here that evening. Here with Mother.”
    “And I didn’t know? My God, Brian, I’m your campaign manager out here. Why didn’t someone tell me? I thought you were in Wichita.”
    “I wasn’t. The press reported that we arrived the next day, but I had been home for three days. It was just Jenny and the kids who drove up from Wichita the morning when we all went to the St. Johns and Judy threw her famous hissy fit.”
    “Your parents alibied for each other in the very beginning, of course, but I wish you had told Sam you were here, too. It lends credibility if it’s not just husband and wife vouching for each other’s whereabouts.”
    “You can ask me what you just asked as a friend, Lottie.” His eyes studied me as he mouthed an ice cube. “But you can’t ask me as an officer of the court. You left out the Miranda warning.”
    “You honestly think I should have gone into the ‘you have a right to remain silent’ bit?”
    He didn’t smile. “If this is official.”
    “It’s not official. You called
me
to come out here, remember? Brian, are you all right? Is something else wrong?”
    He rose, poured another shot of bourbon, slowly turned the cut glass tumbler in the sunlight as it flashed rainbow prisms of light.
    “No,” he said finally. “Actually, I’m not. I’m under so much strain right now I’m about to lose it. I know this, Jenny knows this.” He downed the whiskey, set the glass on the end table beside him, and ran his hands through his hair.
    “Health problems? Marriage problems? Family problems besides Fiona? What, Brian? I have to know if we are going to get you elected. Better me, now, than the press later.”
    “I know that.” He spoke so softly I strained to hear the words. “I’m terrified that what is wrong with my mother is the early onset of Alzheimer’s. It would ruin me, I can promise you.”
    “But that’s so common! That shouldn’t…”
    “Shouldn’t? You can’t be that naïve! The reality is that every single statistic any quack has ever produced on its hereditary aspects is going to be dragged out, printed, talked about. You know