In deference to his guests, Stone went down to breakfast the following morning instead of having it in bed. She was ahead of him, and he joined her.
“Good morning, Jenna,” he said. “I hope you slept well.”
“Good morning, Stone. I did, thank you. My room was wonderfully silent, until the birds started up just before dawn.”
“Yes, they do that.”
“I pulled the pillow over my ears and went back to sleep.”
“Good move.”
“Do you think I might go riding this morning?”
“Of course. I’ll go with you.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“I’m sorry, but in the circumstances, I think it is.”
“Do you think Wallace Slade would follow me over here?”
“You’re in a better position to answer that,” Stone said. “Would he?”
She thought about it for a moment. “Well, yes, he might very well send someone here looking for me.”
“Then I hope you won’t mind my company. Or one of the stable lads could go with you.”
“I think I would prefer your company.”
“Did you bring clothes?”
“Yes, except for a helmet.”
“We will provide you with one.”
“That would be very kind of you.”
Stone’s breakfast was delivered so he began to eat. “Can you tell me what happened recently to precipitate your disappearance from your usual haunts?”
“Two things, I think: one, Wallace somehow slipped up and allowed our divorce to become final, without trying to stop it.”
“Had he been opposed to it earlier?”
“Vociferously,” she said. “He had instructed his attorney to do everything he could to obstruct it.”
“What changed his mind?”
“We had a court date for eleven am, but my attorney appeared in the courtroom at nine, and before the judge could call his first case, my lawyer presented him with a final decree and a property agreement as well, and he offhandedly signed both. I guess Wallace had not gotten to him yet. So, voilà! I was a free woman and a fairly wealthy one, too. I was on the next flight to Washington, D.C., while Wallace was still at the ranch, sleeping one off.”
“What was the other thing?”
“I met with committee investigators and was deposed, prior to my committee appearance.”
“So Wallace knows you are on the record.”
“He does. And the two events, on the same day, combined to make him apoplectic, I am reliably informed.”
“By whom, may I ask?”
“My maid at the ranch house, who was fired during the same fit. I’ve seen to her welfare.”
“And when are you expected to make your appearance before the committee?”
“In about two weeks; I’ll receive a subpoena.”
“In your absence from the ranch house, is there someone else who might keep you informed on events there?”
“Yes, Wallace’s driver, whom he trusts implicitly, but who despises him.”
“I would like to be informed of any news from the driver. What’s his name?”
“Robert Parker.”
“And the maid’s name?”
“Rose Parker. She is the half sister of Robert, though Wallace doesn’t know that.”
“How will you communicate with these two people?”
“Robert provided me with a throwaway cell phone, which works here.”
“Some historical questions, if I may?”
“Certainly.”
“How did you meet Wallace?”
“At a cocktail party at my sister’s home. I was working as an assistant to her husband, Democratic senator Harry Bruce, of New Mexico.”
“What was your first impression of Wallace Slade?”
“What he wished it to be: charming, attentive, sometimes funny, but not always intentionally. Wallace is very good at wearing the appropriate face for an occasion.”
“When were you married?”
“Eight months later.”
“How long were you married?”
“Four years to the day.”
“And how much of that time was happy?”
“About twenty minutes,” she replied.
Stone laughed in spite of himself.
“Wallace became his real self almost immediately: loud, crass, short-tempered, and violent, among other endearing traits.”
“How did his violence express itself?”
“Shoving, slapping, on a few occasions, punching.”
“And how did you defend yourself.”
“I fought back, as best I could, given his size and weight advantage. Once I bloodied his nose, which gave him two black eyes. He looked like a raccoon for about a week and couldn’t go out without makeup.”
Stone laughed again. “Did your response have any effect on Wallace?”
“He shouted more but hit me less.”
“You’re a brave woman.”
“I have a temper, just as he does.”
“How would you describe Wallace’s feelings for you over the years?”
“He wanted a trophy wife, and I gave him that. I had been a sought-after model for years, and I had good clothes and wore the jewelry he gave me. He liked that. But his ardor cooled very quickly, which was all right with me, and he chose not to speak to me unless it was absolutely necessary. In the company of others, he behaved himself and paid me compliments. By now, he clearly despises me, and the feeling is, of course, mutual.”
“Would you describe yourself as a woman scorned?”
“Scorned and scorning,” she replied.
“Do you think Wallace wants you dead?”
“I firmly believe that he does. If I had not had Lance’s protection I would already be in my grave. Wallace knows that when my testimony becomes public, his career will be over, and he will very likely go to prison. Killing me would put an end to all of that, or he believes it would.”
“Have you left any record of what you have told me?”
“Yes, the committee investigators recorded it visually and with audio. I allowed them to do that on the condition that I be given a copy of the tape.”
“And were you?”
“Yes.”
“And where does that tape reside, now?”
“With my personal attorney.”
“Who is...?”
“Herbert Fisher, of Woodman & Weld. We’ve met only once.”
“Herb is my law partner and my friend. Why did Lance come to me, instead of Herb?”
“Does Herb have a country house?”
“A place in the Hamptons; he’s very social out there.”
“Then he would have been unsuitable as my guardian, would he not?”
“Probably so. It would have been hard for him to hide you.”
“Does that bring you up to date?”
“I believe it does. Your mount awaits.”
“Then let’s not keep the poor animal waiting!”