Parties in Congress (31 page)

“A little past eleven,” Fran said, moving toward the kitchen. “I know tomorrow’s Saturday, but you haven’t slept much lately. You should at least
try
to get some sleep.”

Bijal wiped her eyes, then glanced at the television that she’d at some point lost consciousness in front of. Seeing Colleen’s name zip across the crawl, she pounced on the remote control and turned up the volume. “Holy shit!”

Fran returned—orange juice in one hand and a sticky bun in the other. “What’s up?”

“It’s Colleen. I think…I think she’s all right.”

“Thank God.” Fran took a seat beside Bijal and they watched together as a reporter posted at the U.S. Capitol Building spoke into the camera.

“Again, we’re waiting for a spokesperson from the U.S. congressional delegation to Afghanistan to make a statement and brief us on exactly what transpired when the bomb went off. The most recent update says that none of the casualties were part of the delegation, though we’ve heard conflicting reports regarding whether any of the party was among the injured.”

The shot switched to a different angle, showing a podium with several microphones mounted to it. To Bijal’s great relief, Colleen stepped into view with a familiar-looking congressman next to her.

“Two of the three members of Congress from the delegation have emerged—Steve McAllister from Ohio and Colleen O’Bannon of Virginia. It looks like Congresswoman O’Bannon is about to address the crowd. Let’s listen in.”

“Good evening. Let me first thank everyone for coming out so late. Regarding our overseas CODEL, here are the facts. On day two of our trip, on the outskirts of Kabul, a car bomb exploded as our convoy was passing through the area.

“There were two fatalities, both locals who were not with our party. Four other civilians were injured, two critically. Of those individuals, only one—Ms. Staines, who was traveling with Congressman Zeller—was part of our delegation. She was struck by some shrapnel, received medical attention on the scene from U.S. Army personnel, and was dispatched upon arrival in Washington to a local hospital. Her condition is currently listed as stable.

“Our trip was immediately terminated following the incident. Therefore, the events planned for the last two days of the CODEL were canceled, though we’re hoping to reschedule them at some point—if not with us, then perhaps with other members of the House Armed Services Committee as opportunities arise.

“I’ll take a few questions now, if you have some.”

Colleen looked somewhat tired but seemed alert and somber.She began the press conference by calling on a reporter in the front row.

“Congresswoman, do you believe, as representatives of the U.S. government, that you were targeted? Or is this incident more of a case of unfortunate timing?”

“Currently, the U.S. government is working with the Afghan police to gather information about the bomber, but as of our latest update, there was no evidence that we were specifically targeted. We hope to know more later. Bob?”

“Thank you, Congresswoman. Can you provide us with more information regarding Congressman Zeller’s staff member who sustained the injury? Um, Ms. Staines, I believe you said? What is her job title? Has her family been notified?”

“To my understanding, Ms. Staines isn’t technically classified as a staff member. It would be more accurate to say that Ms. Staines was simply traveling with Congressman Zeller.”

Fran’s head snapped to the side. “What the hell does
that
mean?”

“Congresswoman, are you saying the married congressman was traveling with a woman who isn’t his wife and isn’t employed by him?”

“Uh, I have no knowledge of whether or not Congressman Zeller has ever compensated Ms. Staines for her company, so I can’t address the issue of ‘employment’ per se. I can only confirm that she is neither his wife nor technically a member of his staff.”

“You’re saying she may be a prostitute?”

“I haven’t seen her résumé, so I can’t corroborate her occupation.”

“Oh…my…God!” Bijal was wide-awake now. That was certain.

The volume in the press room had become so loud that Colleen was struggling to regain enough control to continue fielding questions. Everyone was speaking over each other and clamoring to be heard.

“Easy, everyone. One at a time. Elizabeth?”

“Just to clarify, are you saying that Congressman Zeller took his mistress on a government CODEL to a war zone, where she was ultimately injured?”

“Again, I don’t have any empirical evidence as to the level of intimacy between Congressman Zeller and Ms. Cha Cha Staines. You’ll need to ask one of them for specifics. Terry?”

“Did anyone else travel with a companion, either in the capacity of employee or…otherwise?”

“No.”

“Where is Congressman Zeller now? Is he at the hospital?”

“He stated he was going home directly to hug his wife and children.”

Another crescendo ensued at that revelation. The members of the press were acting like frenzied piranhas, either horrified by Zeller’s behavior or simply ravenous for a story this salacious.

Fran swallowed a mouthful of glazed pastry. “You know, I’m really starting to like your girlfriend.”

“Why is she doing this?”

“Because Harlan Zeller is an asshole.”

“You just don’t like him because he’s a conservative Blue Dog Democrat.”

Fran shook her head once. “It’s more because he’s a shady bastard who’s been bought off by corporate conglomerates to sell out the environment and bend over small businesses to take it in the—”

“Shh!”

“Congresswoman, are you concerned that being so candid about Congressman Zeller’s travel companion so close to Election Day may torpedo the reelection chances of a member of your own party? Especially with so many seats in the House in play?”

“In my opinion, politicians should speak honestly and act with integrity at all times. So if you’re asking if my party or I would willingly mislead the public or collude to protect someone’s unethical behavior in the hopes of retaining a seat in Congress, I can say with great certainty that the answer is no.”

“Are you saying that Congressman Zeller has behaved unethically?”

“I don’t have enough facts to make that determination.”

“To your knowledge, does the congressman have a sexual relationship with Ms. Staines?”

“Again, I can’t speak specifically to the nature of their relationship. I had not met Ms. Staines prior to this trip. Perhaps some inquisitive journalists will do some research to ensure that her presence on the CODEL was justified and proper. I’m merely stating that in the two days during which I spent significant time with both of them, I saw no real evidence of propriety. Maybe someone else did.”

The reporters then started shouting at Congressman McAllister, who looked both mortified and terror-stricken. Colleen pulled him in front of the microphones, and he grudgingly spoke to the press in a timid voice.

“Um, I haven’t prepared a statement.”

“Congressman, did you see any behavior by either Representative Zeller or Ms. Cha Cha Staines that might imply they had an inappropriate relationship, or that she was on this trip in a role other than staff support?”

“Uh…I…”

“Congressman, why won’t you answer? Are you protecting your peer? Is this part of the Washington culture of complicity?”

“I’m not protecting anyone. There did appear to be some over-familiarity, but nothing I could swear to. Um…thank you!”

McAllister flew off the dais like a rocket, bumping into Colleen in the process. He grabbed her by the wrist before turning to thank the press one more time—an assurance to them that they would take no further questions. In a flash, they had left the room.

*

“Colleen, what did you just do?” Steve said in a nervous sort of shriek-whisper. “You threw Zeller under the bus?”

“I told the truth. That’s all. If Zeller’s under a bus, he crawled there himself.”

“Your caucus is going to destroy you!”

Colleen was tiring of this. “I’m not here to cover the ass of a guy like Zeller, Steve. And if it’s more important to my party to hold a single seat in the House than it is to have principled people in office who do their jobs, then we don’t deserve to have a majority, do we?”

Steve seemed to consider that point. “Heh.”

“Am I right?”

He stood with his arms planted firmly on his hips. “O’Bannon, you’re one hell of a woman. It’ll be a real shame when they crucify you over this.”

Colleen shrugged. “So be it. But at least I’ll have a clear conscience.”

“And balls of steel,” Steve said reverently.

“I’m out of here. Go home, Steve. Be with your family.”

“Thanks. For what it’s worth, I really hope you’re right.”

“Me too,” Colleen replied. She waved good-bye and headed toward the exit.

Colleen started her clothes dryer as she heard her BlackBerry go off from the kitchen table. She wiped her hands on her jeans and walked over to pick it up with great trepidation. Unsurprisingly, it was another request for an interview with the press.

She grumbled in disinterest and set the device back down on the counter. It had been only hours since she’d been languishing without e-mail access. She laughed as she realized how stupid she’d been then. She should have been enjoying the quiet information void she’d been nestled in. She’d now been back home for all of an hour, it was after one in the morning, and she couldn’t get the goddamn phone to stop beeping at her.

Of course, she
had
told the press a little bit ago that a married congressional representative had been busy playing grab-ass with an erotic dancer that he’d stupidly taken into a war zone on the taxpayer’s dime, accidentally getting her blown up for good measure.
That
little detail, she supposed, provided further justification for all this late-night pestering.

Sure, she could turn the phone off, but then she wouldn’t know if Bijal had tried to contact her—though good sense told her she’d be better off putting their liaison on hold. Colleen had seen upon reentry into friendly airspace that Bijal had sent her a couple of cautious and apologetic text messages. But Colleen still hadn’t made up her mind about the merits or the wisdom of replying, not to mention what she would possibly say to her.

It seemed hypocritical to shove a peer into media quicksand for having an inappropriate relationship when, admittedly, she was doing the same thing. Granted, she wasn’t cheating on anyone, and she hadn’t misappropriated government funds to facilitate her tryst. Technically, she and Bijal hadn’t had sex, though God knew that Washington, DC had spent enough time and money in the ’90s trying to define what “sex” actually was. It was nevertheless unlikely that anyone had thoroughly classified and cataloged all the various sexual acts and settled on their parameters with any great certainty or consensus.

Ultimately, however, the most important factor was the question of ethical impropriety that their friendship—more accurately, their budding romance—called into question. True, neither of them had revealed anything about the other’s campaign of any real value. There had been no quid pro quo for secrets or strategies—no blackmail, graft, or unscrupulousness of any kind. Well, unless you counted Bijal’s crawling-through-the-dirt-with-a-video-camera-that-wasn’t-filming-anything mission. And, honestly, that was an odd combination of cute and pathetic.

Colleen chuckled at the way Bijal had managed to simultaneously evoke both sympathy and arousal that evening. Sure, Bijal had been lounging in Colleen’s living room mostly naked while her clothes dried, so that invariably played a significant part in it. After all, Bijal was stacked in ways that Colleen couldn’t help but appreciate. Had anyone else from the Denton camp been spying on her, Colleen was fairly certain she’d have called the police, the media, and quite possibly the Super Friends to capture and expose the Denton campaign for the carnival of corruption that it was.

Somehow, with Bijal everything was different. And even though things had taken a rather nasty and personal turn within the election, she just couldn’t maintain her anger when it came to Bijal. As Colleen considered her feelings, she recognized it wasn’t simply that she
hoped
Bijal had nothing to do with the disreputable ads. Deep down, Colleen truly
believed
her and hadn’t even entertained the possibility that it could be otherwise.

The magnitude of that kind of trust stunned her. She let her index finger trail idly down the front of the BlackBerry as she again considered sending Bijal a message.

“You have no self-control at all,” she said, forcing herself to leave the room.

A sudden rumble of thunder made her thankful that she’d gotten home before this unexpected electrical storm. From the sound of it, the rain was due to start pouring any minute, which ultimately would make sleep even more elusive. She wished she’d gotten in early enough to pick up Callisto. As it was, the house seemed unsettlingly empty.