There they were. All the messages in one breath. Again. Practically word for word.
“What exactly did the Converses ask you to do?” Cassidy hadn’t heard anything about it. In fact, as far as she knew, the Converses and the Fairviews were no longer speaking to each other.
He shifted. “A couple of nights ago on one of the TV shows, uh, they said they did not want to hear about the details of the relationship, how I feel about Katie, or how she feels about me. So I’m trying to honor that. I think the American people understand that people are entitled to some privacy. I’m entitled to try to retain as much privacy as I can. The Converses are entitled to retain as much privacy on behalf of their daughter as they can. So I’m going to honor that.”
That was the best his lawyer and the media coach could come up with? That the Converses had made some offhand remark on TV that Fairview was now treating as a specific request made directly to him?
Cassidy put on a stern look. “But, Senator, you are protecting your privacy at the expense of a young woman who is missing.”
A hint of anger crept into his voice. “Well, that’s not correct. That’s not correct at all. Because I have cooperated with law enforcement. I mean, I have not been part of the media circus if, if that’s your point. No, I haven’t held a news conference, and no, I don’t do talk shows. But I have cooperated. I have worked with law enforcement at every step and given up a lot of my civil liberties to make sure that they have all the information that they need.”
“Don’t the people of Oregon deserve the truth? The people who elected you to this office?”
Fairview jutted his chin. “They deserve the truth. And the truth is that I have done everything asked of me by the people who are responsible to find Katie Converse. It’s not the news media’s responsibility to find Katie Converse. It’s law enforcement’s. And I have worked with the authorities to do just that.”
Maybe Nancy was the weaker link.
Cassidy softened her tone. “What toll does this take, Nancy? I mean, when you’re the wife of a public official and you hear these whispers and you have law enforcement coming to you and asking you questions about your most intimate relationship, how do you handle that as a wife?”
Nancy managed a half smile. “I don’t listen to rumors. I know James Fairview. I know about our relationship, and I feel very secure in it. And I don’t need other people to tell me what they think about it.” She put on a sad expression. “Instead of focusing on finding Katie, or talking about the good things my husband has accomplished, the media are trying to make something out of nothing.”
Out of nothing? Either this lady was in denial, or she was completely heartless. Cassidy couldn’t wait to see how they reacted to what she said next.
The words hurried off her tongue. “I’m going to turn to another area. A young woman, a cook at the Senate cafeteria named Luisa Helprin, has told me that she had a relationship with you, Senator. And that you asked her to lie about it. True?”
For a second, Fairview and his wife exchanged a glance. Cassidy wished she could read that glance. Did Nancy already know? Guess? Choose not to know?
“I didn’t ask anyone to lie about anything,” Fairview stuttered. “I did not ask Luisa not to cooperate with law enforcement. That’s an absolute lie.”
Just the way Fairview said Luisa confirmed the whole thing. Obviously, his lawyer and his media coach had not prepared him for this. Cassidy would bet that the two of them were watching this on TV and having a heart attack—and that Allison would be on the phone as soon as the program was over, demanding Luisa’s contact info.
Inside, Cassidy was grinning, but she kept her expression grave. “We have a statement that your lawyers gave to Luisa, and it says, ‘I do not and have not had a romantic relationship with Senator Fairview.’”
He shifted. She could see the sweat shining on his forehead. Nancy was no longer smiling. Her mouth was half open, her expression stunned and frozen.
“Well, uh,” Fairview stuttered, “that’s a statement that a lawyer sent to another lawyer. I did not have anything to do with that.”
“But why would your lawyer write up the draft of something without your authorization? Why would you want her to say that she didn’t have a relationship with you?”
Fairview found his footing. “Because she didn’t.”
He managed to sound like he meant it. How good was he at compartmentalizing? Had he told so many lies that he sometimes believed them himself? Or was he one of those people who could parse a sentence (“I did not have sex with that woman” came to mind) so narrowly that he sincerely believed it was true?
“Why would this young woman make it up?” Cassidy emphasized the word young.
Fairview pursed his lips and nodded as if he was agreeing with something she had said. “You know, Cassidy, I’m puzzled by people who take advantage of tragedy.”