The Exodus Strategy

by Barbara Winkes

  She should go home. Make sure dinner was ready, because yesterday, it hadn’t been, and well, that hadn’t gone over so well with Barry. When had things gotten out of control like this? How could she have let them? Shame and sadness weren’t good advisors. There was no reason, no justification. She had thought winning the election would turn everything around, but on the contrary, Barry had started drinking more heavily. He’d smile for the cameras and say how proud he was of her for her success, but the truth was, he hated it. She had everything he’d wanted and didn’t get and he hated her for that, a bit more every day.

  Annette found the website once more, trying to print the forms once more, getting near hysterical when nothing she did produced the desired results. She couldn’t even tell if it was the printer or the website resisting. In her purse, her cell phone vibrated, possibly a call from Barry. She couldn’t call a technician in here, because everyone would know what she’d been up to.

  There was a phone number that said to be leading to a call center, hours 6:00 a.m. to 10:00 p.m. Would it work? She couldn’t go home. Not anymore. There was no home.

  “This is Greene Industries, the sign-up hotline for Exodus, my name is Melissa. How can I help you?”

  Annette winced. The woman sounded so young. Between that age and her own, so many dreams and illusions would simply die.

  “I…I want to sign up,” she said. “Can I do that with you? I think there’s an office here, but I don’t know if it’s closed for today. I can’t go home.”

  “I can sign you up, no problem,” Melissa said. “Are you in any danger right now? Then you should call the police, and we talk once that is settled.”

  “No, that’s okay.”

  “Good. Can you tell me your name?”

  “It’s Annette LeBlanc.”

  The silence on the other end of the line spoke volumes. After a few seconds, Melissa asked, “Is this a joke?”

  “I’m calling from my office. I’ll give you the number and you can call me back if you need to, but please, can we fill out those forms?”

  “Yes. Of course.” Melissa sounded anxious, disturbed. At this moment, Annette couldn’t spare any time to sympathize, because she felt the same.

  * * * *

  The private mail service knocked on their door early the next morning, reaching Hilary in Kerry and Vivien’s new home. Hilary sighed as she came back into the kitchen where they had just started preparing breakfast, ripping the envelope open. “If I was hoping for a little timeout with you girls, I’ve been sadly mistaken…”

  The shocked gasp prompted Kerry to spin around from where she was standing at the brand new coffeemaker.

  “Hilary? What is it?”

  A few seconds or so later, she knew. Hilary quickly slid the photographs back in the envelope with shaking hands, but Kerry had seen enough.

  “Okay. Sit down first.” She gently steered Hilary towards the chair and got a ziplock bag from the pantry. “Let’s be careful with those, for the fingerprints.” It was a good thing that in situations like this, Kerry could easily slip into cop mode, focus her energy on doing what needed to be done when all she really wanted to do was scream. Hilary would probably want that, too, once she came out of her apathetic state. When the pictures were safely enclosed, Kerry poured a cup of coffee for her friend and set it in front of her, taking her clammy hands and held them against the warmth of the mug. “Have this. We’ll figure it out, okay? If we can track this back to Miller, he’s done.”

  “I like the sound of that.” Vivian walked in, a towel still around her head. “Miller being gone, that is. What happened?”

  Kerry shook her head, silently indicating that she would update her later.

  “I’ll call it in,” she said to Hilary who nodded.

  The ring tone of Hilary’s cell phone startled all of them, finally jolting Hilary into action. She got to her feet so abruptly she nearly knocked over her chair.

  “I can’t talk to him right now,” she said, her eyes welling up. “Damn it!”

  The phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Kerry picked it up. “It’s from the applications office. Should I…?” Understandably, Hilary didn’t care much at the moment, so she pressed the answer button. After all, this was her project too, and she assumed she should take some of the responsibility as well.

  The news from the call center was almost as stunning as this morning’s mail.

  “We’ll take care of it. I can’t get Mrs. Greene on the phone at the moment, but I’ll pass it on. Could you just give me the details? Thanks.”

  Vivien, being the wonderful and intuitive partner that she was, put a notepad and pen in front of her—and she wasn’t even dressed yet. What she jotted down in the next few minutes, took Kerry’s mind off the newest nasty attack on Exodus and the Greenes. Here was another crisis that would require them to act soon. Hilary wouldn’t be able to avoid talking to Marc for long, because they would all have to be on board for this.

  When she had finished, both Hilary and Vivien looked at her expectantly. Breakfast would have to be cut short.

  “All right. One of you will have to be here for the police I’m going to call in a minute. It seems like we’ve got an application that could become a little controversial.” She shook her head. “Well, at this point, I don’t think any of us is bothered by controversial. Annette LeBlanc applied to join Exodus.”

  “What the—” Vivien interrupted herself. “That has to be one of their schemes. We can’t have someone like her on the inside. Do you even know her voting record? If it was for her, my job would have been killed a year ago! What’s going on over there?”

  Hilary started to cry.

  Kerry laid a hand on her shoulder.

  “One thing at a time, okay? I’ll get some cops in here to deal with the mail. Hilary, I’m sorry, but we need to do this now. Are you okay with me handling LeBlanc’s application? Vivien could stay with you.” Neither of them seemed to be too happy with the solution, but there was no protest forthcoming. “Give me a minute.”

  She was reminded of the threatening email sent to Vivien by Jay Fuller, and what little she’d been able to do about it. This was different though. If there were fingerprints, and they led back to someone close to Miller’s office…That would work to their advantage. Not for a second did Kerry believe that what she’d seen wasn’t the product of photo manipulation. Hilary knew it too, though Kerry could understand she was disturbed by the graphic visuals of her husband with another woman. Not just any woman, but the Greenes’ longtime trustee Aimee Hendricks.

  Had she really needed another proof as to which lengths their opponents were willing to go? Disgusting as this latest attempt was, there was nothing surprising about it. She called the local police department and told them about the suspicious mail. Kerry had no doubt the officers would use every resource to solve this case—the name Greene made it high profile to begin with. When she put the phone back into its station, she turned to find Vivien standing behind her.

  “We have only one shot at this,” she said heatedly. “We can’t afford to make mistakes. What’s the point in screening people when everyone can just buy their way in, especially someone who has no respect for the principles this project is build on? Annette LeBlanc is Emily Camden’s evil twin, and we know Emily is pretty bad.”

  “Vivien.”

  “If we already need to sell out at this point, maybe we should have never done this in the first place.”

  “We’re not selling out,” Kerry said firmly. “I don’t know what will come of this. I’m sure a certain fraction of the press will take an interest, and tear us apart, or her, or both. According to applications, this is an emergency. I’ll have her stay at one of the transition houses before we find something permanent.

  “Why?”

  “Apparently the husband beat her up. Not for the first time either.”

  Vivien blanched. “Okay. I’ll stay with Hilary.”

  Kerry leaned in for a quick kiss. “Tha
nk you. I’ll let you know as soon as I know more.”

  The phone rang once more, and this time, caller ID showed the Greene residence back home.

  * * * *

  Truth be told, Kerry was as conflicted about LeBlanc’s application as Vivien was, but the emergency placement meant she was already approved. Kerry accompanied the congresswoman to the apartment where she’d spend the next few days until all the paperwork was taken care of. The media was surprisingly quiet which meant the husband either didn’t know yet she was gone, or he was already busy at damage control, meaning to paint her the guilty party.

  Annette laughed bitterly as she surveyed the surroundings. “I’m probably making the biggest mistake of my life. I don’t even know what I’m doing here.”

  “You’re saving your life,” Kerry said, trying not to sound patronizing, or angry, or show any of the emotions warring inside of her. She winced when Annette took off her sunglasses, a sad déjà-vu of the last time she’d seen Joanie Vincent alive.

  This was real, this was happening right now. They were going to stop perpetrators and enablers in their tracks, whatever it took, from whatever walks of life. She wouldn’t take any more chances, on any woman’s life. If necessary, she’d lock Annette LeBlanc into this apartment until she realized she’d done the right thing by leaving her douchebag of a husband. Barry LeBlanc had, so far, lived a comfortable life because his wife was ready to betray other women’s rights. He had envied her place in the spotlight though. They both lived in an ideological world where women could never be equal, and just to remind them, at times, you had to put them in their place. Barry longed for the good old days when women didn’t have the right to vote in the first place—but make no mistake, there were women who indulged views like that and coddled the men who held them.

  “Am I? I’m not sure what kind of life is left. I’m failing my marriage and my constituents…but…I just couldn’t take it anymore.” She turned away.

  “You’re not failing anyone. Your responsibility is to think of yourself now.”

  After that, what would happen? Kerry wondered. Would she go back to campaigning against equal pay, equal marriage and choice? Contrary to Vivien’s accusation, she had not forgotten about LeBlanc’s voting record—like slashing domestic violence protections. A hostage of patriarchy, textbook for the Stockholm syndrome. If she was being judgmental, Kerry couldn’t help it. Legislation written and approved by politicians was what helped instill disdain in people like Vivien’s former doctor, or the Fuller family. It made them think they were right, that they had the right to act mean and ignorant.

  Yet, Annette LeBlanc needed their help.

  “Have you even eaten? I could get us something from the deli down the street, while you settle in here.”

  The congresswoman gave her a startled look. Kerry suppressed a sigh, hoping she wouldn’t think Kerry was hitting on her.

  “You’re going to leave me alone?”

  “There’s security downstairs. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  LeBlanc wrapped her arms around herself. “I guess that will be okay. Thank you.”

  “It’s no problem.”

  When she left the room, Hilary’s passionate speech came to mind, about leaving no one behind. A woman from another state who needed help, maybe even another country, that was who they had envisioned—not so much a congresswoman with extreme views that stood for everything that had made Exodus necessary. She also remembered Marc saying once how the structures they were fighting, and LeBlanc had been fighting to keep in place, fueled domestic violence. She hoped the two of them would be all right despite the latest attack.

  Despite all of this, LeBlanc qualified, and they would help her.

  * * * *

  “Our investigators are already on this, and they are working with the officers you spoke to. This will go away sooner than Miller can pass another of his senseless stupid bills.” Marc sounded determined, which was a good thing, because Hilary was lacking that determination at the moment. She also had a hard time not starting to cry again—or yell at him, just for the heck of it. She knew it wasn’t rational, but that was how she felt. She’d had a hard time answering the phone in the first place.

  “Hilary. You know those are fake, right?”

  “Faked by someone with lots of talent,” she said, aware of the sharp edge to her tone.

  “Come on. I doubt I could be this flexible.”

  “This is not the time to joke…damn it, Marc, I had to look at those pictures. Can’t you see that it doesn’t matter if they’re fake or not? I saw them and many other people did too, so don’t tell me to come on!”

  “You’re serious? It doesn’t matter?”

  “Of course it does!”

  They were both silent for a moment.

  “You know, right?” he said again.

  “Yes, I do. I guess even after all those years I still wasn’t prepared as to how dirty the other side is willing to fight. How’s Aimee?”

  “Mad. Like all of us. This is a travesty, the lowest level. If Miller had a hand in this, we’re not going to leave without making him pay. Hilary…I’m so sorry you had to see this. We’re not going to let it stand.”

  “I know,” she said, feeling exhausted even though it wasn’t even ten yet. “Is Frances okay?”

  “She will be. We talked. She understands that there are people out there who lie and cheat…and she understands photo manipulation better than any of us.”

  This time, Hilary chuckled.

  “Come home, please? Not just because we need to weather another crisis, or we have to prepare the interview with Clare Michaels.”

  “—and we need to talk about Annette LeBlanc some more…”

  “I miss you.”

  “I miss you too. I think Kerry and Vivien are capable of handling the congresswoman. I want to go home.” She decided this moment that it was exactly what she was going to do. Hilary felt a little less exhausted at the thought.

  “I can’t wait,” Marc said.

  * * * *

  Annette LeBlanc was crying when Kerry returned to the apartment, wiping her face self-consciously.

  “I wonder what Barry’s doing,” she said. “It’s a good thing we have a housekeeper. I don’t think he knows how the coffeemaker works.”

  Kerry thought her sympathy was misplaced. She had no qualms about abusers suffering a little inconvenience like having to make their own breakfast—for Christ’s sake—but she reminded herself as long they were talking, and LeBlanc didn’t want to go back, things were going as planned. She wished Vivien was there. She had a lot more insights into the psychological dynamics of what they were dealing with, not to mention a lot more patience.

  “Excuse me for a moment? I need to make a call.”

  At the same time, she could check on how things were going on the Greene side of their endeavor.

  Vivien answered her phone, but she wasn’t much inclined to join Kerry.

  “Viv, please. I’m a little out of my depth here.”

  “I’ll be at the new center all day, I’m sorry. You’ll be fine. You know how to deal with victims. Hilary thinks so too. She’s going home, by the way.”

  “What?”

  “Taking a charter flight. She says we can take the jet when we need it.”

  For a brief moment, Kerry reveled in the unreal sound of that. She forced herself back to the present.

  “Great. I was just hoping—”

  “I don’t want to talk to her, okay? She voted for Prop 8, remember? Because clearly, we are a worse threat to society than poverty and climate change. I could give you a list of other bills she sponsored that fortunately most people realized to be extreme and only useful for a handful of immature angry men playing God!”

  “I know all of that.” Kerry cast a brief look over where Annette LeBlanc was holding on to her coffee, staring into nothing. “No matter how she voted, or how much money she has, she’s still suffering. We said we wouldn’t turn a
nyone away, especially when they are willing to learn.”

  “Is she?”

  Kerry had to admit she couldn’t answer that question. “At this moment, frankly, I don’t care. I don’t understand you. The woman has a black eye and she barely made it out with one suitcase, a couple of days’ worth of clothing. Don’t you think we could set politics aside for a moment?”

  “If you think you can trust her. I’m sorry, I’ve got work to do here.” She hung up before Kerry could answer.

  That went well.

  Chapter Twenty

  Hilary went from the airport straight to Greene headquarters, advising the driver to go through the parking garage to avoid the ever-present group of reporters and protesters outside the building.

  She and Marc had often taken a public stand for marriage equality and choice before, but since the launch of Exodus, a lot of groups on either side of these issues paid even more attention to them. There was some advantage in privately owned estate.

  Still, they hadn’t been able to keep out the shooter. She shuddered at the memory.

  Leaving the elevator on the top floor, she was warring with conflicting emotions nonetheless. They ran a business. Never had she imagined people who were against them would sink to these lows. She probably should have. The world wasn’t that safe or sane, when you thought, really thought about it.

  “Mom!” Frances jumped up from where she’d sat behind Marc’s desk, wrapping her arms around Hilary tightly. “You’re back, thank God.”

  “Yes, thank God.” Marc had come in after her, and he joined the group hug. Finally, the pieces were falling into place again. As long as they had this, their family, love and trust, everything else was a distraction. Miller and his supporters had no idea what they could do. Looking up, she saw the same resolve in Marc’s face.