Well, it was right in front, and it was handy. I’m starving.”
“How long have you been in the house?”
“I snuck in just before Vera brought your groceries.”
Estelle looked at him with astonishment. “Heaven’s sake! That was hours ago. Will you please tell me what’s going on? You’re supposed to be up at Capitol Hill…” She suddenly put two and two together. “Oh, Andrew. Don’t tell me you’re here because of the senator.”
He nodded. “I am, and I’ll tell you everything, but can you please feed me? I was only able to grab a little bit of cheesecake, and now it’s all linty.”
Estelle heard the shower water stop. She walked over to the base of the stairs and yelled, “Sam, Andrew’s here.” Then she put a large portion of lasagna on a plate, microwaved it, and added salad and bread. She set it in front of her son, then cut Vera a fresh piece of cheesecake. The whole time, her brain whirled. Andrew couldn’t be involved in this, could he? Just because he was an intern on Capitol Hill, just because he rubbed elbows with politicians all day, just because the senator was found in their garbage, Andrew couldn’t be involved. If he was, wouldn’t the senator be in Andrew’s garbage at his own apartment forty miles away?
Sam toddled down the stairs in his robe and slippers, and waited with Estelle while Andrew packed away his dinner. Estelle was glad to see Andrew eating protein—the cheesecake had to be wreaking havoc on his blood sugar, and his last doctor’s visit hadn’t gone well.
Finally satisfied after two more helpings, Andrew pushed back his plate. “Well, so, you want to know what’s going on?”
“Yes!” Sam and Estelle said in unison.
“Son, I don’t know if you realize this, but I spent all day at police headquarters being questioned. I very much would like to get to the bottom of our family’s involvement in this case,” Sam told him.
Andrew sighed. “I’ve been working in Senator Beckham’s office for the last month, like I told you last week, when I called you on the phone, because I’m a good son and keep in touch with my parents—remember that part—and then I sort of got into a fight with him and he let me go.”
“Oh, dear.” Estelle shook her head.
“But then Senator Caldwell saw me leaving the senate building. He asked where I was going, with all my stuff, and I told him I’d been sacked. He asked me to come work in his office. And he asked me…well, you remember what a good son I am, and by extension, what a good person?”
“One doesn’t necessarily guarantee the other, but go on,” Sam said, his tone suspicious.
Andrew took a deep breath. “Caldwell asked me if I knew anything incriminating about Beckham that could be used against him. Caldwell was trying to put through a new environmental bill, and Beckham was opposing it. Caldwell thought he could encourage Beckham to drop his opposition if he knew a little something he shouldn’t.”
“You helped Caldwell blackmail Beckham?” Estelle couldn’t believe it. Her little boy, her little blond boy, who used to wear overalls and catch frogs, was now blackmailing politicians?
“Caldwell’s bill was a good one, Mom. It really should have gone through. And maybe now someone else will pick it up.”
“Good bill or not, you shouldn’t have done what you did,” Sam said. “And this puts a whole new light on things. Beckham may well be responsible for Caldwell’s murder.”
“Well, there’s a little bit more,” Andrew said. “Right before I left the senate building, I overheard Beckham talking to some police officers. He sort of indicated that I might be a person of interest in the case. I think Beckham has a little grudge about the fight we had, and is trying to pin this on me.”
Estelle breathed out heavily. One minute, her husband—the next, her son.
“And I wonder if I could hide out here for a little bit because I can’t go home.”
“But Andrew, you have to talk to the police,” Estelle said. “Once you explain what really happened, everything will be fine.”
A knock, solid and heavy, fell on the front door, and she knew who it was before she even stood up. Sure enough, there stood two officers wearing the very familiar uniform of the Virginia State Police.
“Mrs. Watkins, have you seen your son, Andrew Watkins, today?” Officer Gruff asked in a rather gruff voice, as if he could talk in any other way.
She opened her mouth, trying to decide what to say, when Officer Anderson chimed in, “We have reason to believe that your son is a suspect in the murder of Senator Caldwell, and may have even used your husband as an accomplice.”
Episode 4
Insistent pounding on the kitchen door pulled Estelle from a deep sleep. She stumbled down the hall and to the stairs, then across the kitchen.
“You don’t look so good,” Vera said by way of greeting.
Estelle muttered something equally uncomplimentary in return. She opened the fridge, shoved the plastic container in Vera’s hands, and turned to shuffle back upstairs.
“Cheesecake, while definitely wonderful, is not going to sate my curiosity.”
Estelle sighed and pulled out a kitchen chair. “I’m not awake enough for this.”
“Share this with me.” Vera, who knew Estelle’s kitchen as well as she knew her own, grabbed two forks and popped the lid off the container. Each friend took a bite, then Estelle sighed again.
“It’s a long story.”
“Well, I think I can guess part of it. Sam’s car is here, which means he’s not at work. And because Sam is...Sam, and it’s a workday, he would be at work if he had a choice. Plus, Andrew’s car is out back, covered by a tarp, which I guess is supposed to make it invisible or something, but it’s not working. I don’t see Andrew here either.”
“Correct as usual, King Friday.” Estelle took another bite before continuing. She’d never had cheesecake for breakfast before, but she might have to make a habit of it, now that she’d tried it.
“Andrew has been arrested, and Sam is undergoing further questioning.”
Vera almost dropped her fork. “What? But I thought Sam was the suspect. How did Andrew get dragged into all this? Wait a minute—the news said it was Senator Caldwell they found in your garbage. Oh, no. Andrew wasn’t interning for him, was he?”
Estelle explained how Andrew had changed internship positions recently, and Vera shook her head.
“This isn’t good.”
“Well, I’m sorry to say, it gets worse.” Estelle laid her fork on the table and pressed her fingers into her temples. “A body in a trash bin is suspicious, all on its own, but the body of a politician is ten times worse. As soon as the police got hold of the body, they sent
