Edge of Black (Dr. Samantha Owens #2)

“Temple said they were probably in the dining room getting coffee.”


“But Glenn had the spare inhaler? Detective Fletcher, I’m sorry, but none of this makes sense. Even if my husband did leave his briefcase at home, the minute he realized it, a staffer would be sent to gather it and bring it to him. It shouldn’t be here at all, and Glenn shouldn’t have had the spare inhaler.”

Her puzzlement was turning to alarm. Fletcher knew there could be a number of innocent explanations, but the man was dead, and coincidence was a homicide detective’s best friend.

“Let me ask, does he have a day runner in there, or did he do everything electronically?”

“Electronically, but he did keep a journal. Nothing really personal, just day-to-day stuff. For when he ran for President. He liked the idea of having his letters published, after...”

She trailed off and Fletcher knew exactly what she’d been about to say. If he’d run and been elected, after he finished his presidency, he would have a presidential library, and his letters would be kept there. Even his most trivial days would be revered and dissected.

“I’d like to see that journal, if I could. And is there anything else missing from his briefcase, or the room?”

She pawed through the case. “Not that I can tell.”

He had to do it. He had no choice. But he hated it like hell. He liked Gretchen Leighton. She was smart and sharp-edged and obviously respected her husband as well as loved him.

“Are you aware of the rumors surrounding your husband?”

Her eyes grew wary.

“What rumors?”

Tread careful, Fletch. You don’t want to exacerbate this situation past what it’s already turning into.

“Sexual rumors.”

“About my husband?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She colored, flushing the bright pink of the peony in the vase on the shelf by her head, until face and flower were nearly indistinguishable. She set the briefcase down in the chair and squared herself.

“Detective, I’m going to ask for your discretion here. You’re just going to have to trust me when I say any rumors about my husband are fabrications.”

“You sound so certain.”

“I am. He’s been impotent for years.”

Fletcher stood, as well. “Impotent?”

“Yes.”

“Is that why you requested his semen from the medical examiner?”

She stilled, then straightened her spine and crossed her arms. “I think we’re finished for today. Please get in touch if you have any new information to share.”

She handed him her husband’s journal and left him standing in the drawing room, wondering anew just what the whole story behind Congressman Leighton’s life truly was.





Chapter 31

Fletcher called Bianco from the car. When she answered, he gave her the good word.

“Wife claims he’s impotent.”

“Impotent?” Bianco repeated.

“Yep. She didn’t go into much detail, but I got the sense that it’s been going on for a while.”

“They had a son, though, the one who was killed in Iraq.”

“That they did. So he wasn’t always having trouble. But if our recent reports are to be believed, it would be kind of hard for him to participate in a bunch of sex games with hookers. No pun intended.”

Bianco actually giggled, a sound so incongruous with her station that it made Fletcher laugh, too. He just didn’t know what to make of her. Sweet as pie, shrewd as hell, and cool as damn it. Not to mention one hell of a looker.

Watch it, Fletch. Don’t go mixing business with pleasure.

“So where are the videotapes of him screwing boys? Where are the hookers who’ve serviced him? Do you have somebody in Vice you trust? Maybe the rumors are just that, unsubstantiated and worthless.”

“Maybe. More importantly, what about the murders in his home state? The DNA match was bothering me, so I went ahead and got a second sample just to be sure. The odds of them messing up are slim, but it does happen. The murders are violent, done by someone who probably didn’t just quit for his health. Impotence could explain a cessation in the deaths. Any chance you took a look through ViCAP to see if anything popped from the D.C. area? If there’s a murder that matches the M.O. while he’s in D.C., and the DNA matches, we know for sure if Mrs. Congressman is a liar.”

“There is a ViCAP search parameter that was inputted, but we haven’t gotten the results yet. If you’d like to follow up on that, I’d be most grateful. Inez said she’s trying to track down the detective who worked the Indiana cases, but he’s overseas somewhere and she’s having trouble reaching him. His background on this would be helpful. On paper, it certainly seems our congressman is leading some sort of double life. But that’s just not the easiest thing to do in this town. People are watching your every move, just waiting for you to screw up so they can swing in, humiliate you and take you down.”

Fletcher got the sense that Bianco wasn’t talking about just the congressman anymore.

*

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