Stillwatch
lady.“I had thought you might come back to my place for dinner andwe could discuss which ones you might be interested in using.”Again a pause. Pat waited.“However, since you haven’t seen the material, I think it would bewiser if I use tonight for some reading I must do.” Abigail smiled.“Sam Kingsley is one of the most eligible bachelors in Washington. Ididn’t realize you knew him so well.”
     
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Pat tried to make her answer light. “I really don’t.” But she couldn’thelp thinking that Sam was finding it hard to stay away from her.She glanced out the window, hoping to hide her expression. Outsideit was almost dark. The Senator ’s windows overlooked the Capitol.As the daylight faded, the gleaming domed building framed by theblue silk draperies resembled a painting. “How lovely” she exclaimed.Abigail turned her head toward the window. “Yes, it is,” she agreed.“That view at this time of day always reminds me of what I’m doinghere. You can’t imagine the satisfaction of knowing that because ofwhat I did today an old woman will be cared for in a decent nursinghome, and extra money may be made available for people who aretrying to eke out an existence.”There was an almost sensual energy in Abigail Jennings when shespoke about her work, Pat thought. She means every word.But it also occurred to her that the Senator had already dismissedfrom her memory the girl she had fired a few hours earlier.
     
Pat shivered as she hurried down the few steps from the Senateoffice building to the car. Sam leaned over to kiss her cheek. “How’sthe hotshot filmmaker?”“Tired,” she said. “Keeping up with Senator Jennings is not therecipe for a restful day.”Sam smiled. “I know what you mean. I’ve worked with Abigailon a fair amount of legislation. She never wears down.”Weaving through the traffic, he turned onto Pennsylvania Avenue.“I thought we’d go to Chez Grandmère in Georgetown,” he said.“It’s quiet, the food is excellent and it’s near your place.”Chez Grandmère was nearly empty. “Washington doesn’t dine atquarter to six.” Sam smiled as the maître d’ offered them their choiceof tables.Over a cocktail Pat told him about the day, including the scene inthe hearing room. Sam whistled. “That was a rotten break for Abigail.You don’t need someone on your payroll to make you look bad.”“Could something like that actually influence the President’sdecision?” Pat asked.“Pat, everything can influence the President’s decision. One
     
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mistake can ruin you. Well, figure it out for yourself. If it weren’t forChappaquiddick, Teddy Kennedy might be President today. Then, ofcourse, you have Watergate and Abscam, and way back, vicuña coatsand home freezers. It never ends. Everything reflects on the man orwoman who holds the office. It’s a miracle Abigail survived thatscandal about the missing campaign funds, and if she had tried tocover up for her aide, it would have been the end of her credibility.What was the girl’s name?”“Eleanor Brown.” Pat thought of what Margaret Langley had said.“ Eleanor couldn’t steal. She’s too timid. ”“Eleanor always claimed she was innocent,” she told Sam now.He shrugged. “Pat, I was a county prosecutor for four years. Youwant to know something? Nine out of ten criminals swear they didn’tdo it. And at least eight out of nine of them are liars.”“But there is always that one who is innocent,” Pat persisted.“Very occasionally,” Sam said. “What do you feel like eating?”It seemed to her that she could watch him visibly unwind in thehour and a half they were together. I’m good for you, Sam, she thought.I can make you happy. You’re equating having a child with the way itwas when you were doing everything for Karen, because Janice wassick. It wouldn’t be that way with me. . . .Over coffee he asked, “How do you find living in the house?Any problems?”She hesitated, then decided to

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