As for Anna—she hadn’t been charged with anything. Strictly speaking, she had committed no crime, but she had been condemned just as surely as Harry had. She’d been condemned not by a court, but by the people, and as a politician, she lived and died by public opinion. There was a clamor in the press for her resignation, but she clung to her office for the last few months of her term. There was no possibility of réélection, and Jude could only assume that all talk of her running for Congress had been dropped. She had lost her husband and her career in one fell swoop. Without those two things she had virtually nothing. It wasn’t a surprise to Jude that now—finally—she was making the effort to connect with him. Five years ago he’d wanted her attention and approval more than anything in the world. But now …
“What did she say?” Lizzie asked, reaching to push the replay button on the machine.
“Don’t,” Jude said. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“You didn’t listen to it?”
“No,” Jude admitted. “I didn’t recognize the number on the call identifier, so I let the machine pick up. When I heard her voice, I just turned the sound down. I’m sure it’s the same old stuff. She’s sorry. She wants to talk to me. She wants to try to salvage something of our relationship,” Jude recited in a drawl.
“You don’t believe her?”
Jude shrugged. “I think she knows that a tearful reunion between mother and son would make for a good story. She may even be hoping that, with some good press, she might be able to save something of her political career.”
“Maybe,” Lizzie said. “But … just maybe it’s the truth.”
“Maybe it is,” Jude said. “And maybe I’ll want to talk to her sometime—I don’t know. But the thing is”—he smiled a little sadly—“it doesn’t really matter anymore.”
Jude Page 28
