you have two reasons to call her. Be careful. It might get ugly in the bowels of power.”
Callie acknowledged Mike’s advice with a nod of her head, but sat quietly as she watched him walk out the front door.
Seven
“Cal, it’s me. We’re running a story in the morning about Senator Lank and I thought you might know something. I’ll try your cell. Call me, girl. Love ya.”
Callie listened to the message timestamped July 20, 8:34pm. She had seen Kacey’s call on her cell phone a little later that evening, but chose not to answer it. At the time, she had been meeting with Senators Shulman, Gorman and Macklin, in Shulman’s office, at the Russell Office building. A meeting not unlike others she had been to, but it was strangely a little more petty than usual and one she would not soon forget.
“Look, the way I see it, we can support the Summit bill as is, it’s a solid bill. We don’t need any of the earmarks you want to stick in there, Callie. I don’t see why we have to muddy up the works with pork and destroy a perfectly good bill,” Gorman had said.
Callie had not been in the mood for his pontificating. Senator Gorman had a habit of jumping on his high horse and forgetting that most of the people he was preaching to in Congress were all too familiar with his act. Callie’s great dislike for Gorman grew over time for various reasons. He tried to strong-arm her on a bill in both 2008 and 2009 and rallied a group of ten senators to kill another bill that would have cost Callie thousands of dollars in bonus money until she stepped in and saved the legislation with some maneuvers of her own. He was a major TV whore and did all he could to grab soundbite opportunities. But the most compelling reason for her disdain had to do with Gorman taking a shot at Callie last year on Fox News. Without actually mentioning her by name, everyone on the Hill knew exactly who he was talking about.
“We get the point, Mike. Except all of us here know what you’re really like so save your bullshit for C-Span,” Callie had told him. “Bottom line, fellas, is we need this earmark in the bill and with all the pork that’s in it now, another 200 million is not going to matter.”
“If we do this, Callie, what can we expect in return?” Senator Macklin asked; getting straight to the point, as usual.
“You want more money? We already gave three-hundred thousand to your PAC. What more do you need?”
Senator Shulman seemed irritated and Callie knew he would be as soon as she mentioned the three-hundred thousand she’d given to Macklin. “I don’t get it, Callie, I’m asking you for nickels and dimes and he’s getting three-hundred thousand?”
Callie rolled her eyes as soon as she saw his lips move. “Charles, last year we gave your Political Action Committee a lot more than that so don’t start...”
Shulman interrupted loudly, as if he could ever do it any other way. “That was last year, Ms. Wheeler.”
Callie smirked when she heard the condescension in Shulman’s voice and shook her head. “I told you, we’re not going to start keeping score because I’m not willing to play things that way. If you have a complaint about our donations, call Barry and bitch to him. I don’t recall any of you ever crying when we gave you envelopes of unreported cash. So do me a favor and slip this earmark in and stop your whining.” Callie’s disgust was apparent as she stood up and gathered her things. “There’s an extra seventy-five thousand dollars for you on passage of the bill and only on passage of the bill. But if you screw me on this, guys, I will make sure you pay.” With that, Callie had lifted her purse onto her shoulder and walked out the office door, secure in the knowledge that she did not make any new friends.
• • •
After that childish meeting from the night before, the last thing Callie wanted was to start her day this way. The clock in her office read 7:30 and she knew it would all implode after Kacey’s piece got passed around the mythical water-cooler. Callie sat in her chair and replayed the message from Kacey two more times to see if she could detect anything in her words or her voice. She was keenly aware of the firestorm that was about to erupt and before she could finish the thought, her cell phone rang. Callie ignored the call then turned her chair around and stared out the window at the impressive D.C. skyline in front of her. Less than thirty seconds later, her office phone rang, but Callie let the call go to voicemail. Her cell rang again, but she disregarded it and stared straight ahead into the emerging morning sky. She swiveled her chair slightly to the left and thought for a moment about pouring herself a stiff drink, then abandoned the idea; it was too early in the day for her nervous system. The office phone rang one more time, less than a minute later, followed by another cell phone call. Callie turned back to the window without missing a beat, allowing the parade of calls to continue. She would respond to her phone messages only after she spoke with Kacey. Until then, everyone else would have to wait.
Callie peered at the clock on her wall which she kept five minutes fast, 7:41, then checked her computer clock which had just changed to 7:37. She picked up her office phone, hit a button then pressed speed-dial. Callie turned her chair back around to take in the view of the grey skies above the Nation’s Capitol and listened to the phone ring four times before Kacey picked up.
“Helllooo,” Kacey said, her tone blessed with lifelong morning grogginess.
“You still asleep?”
“No, not anymore.”
“Sorry, I just got your message from yesterday.”
Kacey was still in bed, her eyes closed and teetering on the border of dozing off. “You have time for lunch?”
Callie paused for a long moment. She was looking forward to meeting Mike, but at this point didn’t think she had much of a choice. She needed to find out what, exactly, Kacey knew. “12:30 at Fridays?”
“See you then,” Kacey said. “Good night.”
“Night, Kace.”
Callie swirled back around to hang up the phone, only to find Barry slouching in a turquoise armchair across from her desk. With everything that was happening, Callie forgot to close her office door and had no idea at what point Barry walked in and made himself at home.
“How long have you been here?”
“Your office or the building?” Barry asked.
“In my office.”
“I just walked in and caught the tail end of your conversation,” Barry said. “Was that Kacey?”
Callie nodded her head in agreement.
“What does she know?”
“I have no clue, but we’re having lunch at 12:30.”
Barry stood up and began to pace back and forth. Callie had worked with him long enough to know his nerves were probably shot and when that happened Barry couldn’t sit still. Callie always joked that if he were a poker player, she would dry him up.
“We have to keep ourselves out of this,” Barry said, sitting back down in the chair for a moment before he stood up again and renewed his pacing. “I don’t think the Senators will talk,” he said as if he was trying to convince himself of that fact more than establish it as a piece of information for Callie to know.
“Well, someone talked,” Callie said, stopping Barry in
