Another Notch in the Beltway

by L. A. Long

  The two couples talked about babies and watched Kelly Hyde’s statement on the news again.

  About a half-hour into the visit, a nurse came to check on Michael Patrick.

  Lenore had never seen her before. She began to get up from her husband’s bed but stopped, taking a good, long look at her.

  The woman’s gray, strawberry blonde hair was drawn into a severe ponytail, giving her eyes a pulled expression, but Lenore knew the face. “Hello, Corrine, what can we do for you?”

  Nik gasped.

  All eyes were on Corrine and the little .22 handgun she was now holding.

  “What can you do for me? Haven’t you done enough?”

  No one spoke. Lenore noticed Nolan maneuver in front of Nikko, who was standing now.

  “I’m sorry, Corrine,” Lenore said simply and she was, always had been. She suspected that Maxwell had played both women. But he was married when Lenore had sex with him, a willing consort in adultery.

  “Sorry? No, I’m the one who’s sorry. Sorry I didn’t do something about that bastard—your bastard and you—long ago. Kelly even fell under your spell.”

  “I think it’s time you leave, Mrs. Maxwell,” MP said.

  Lenore had angled herself closer to MP. He was still healing inside and out, and she didn’t want him to tear knitting wounds open. If he felt he needed to protect her from Corrine, she knew he’d put himself at risk.

  “He loved you. Did you know that?” Corrine asked Lenore.

  “I don’t think he loved anyone except himself,” Lenore said, thinking it was best to side with Corrine on what a lowlife Maxwell was.

  Unbeknownst to anyone, MP had pressed the call button when Lenore moved in front of him.

  Corrine laughed. “That’s a true statement except for you. He loved you. Morris did, too. Did you fuck him as well?”

  Lenore felt MP stiffen behind her.

  “No. I did not.”

  A nurse they knew bustled in. “Mr. Finnegan—” she started, then saw Corrine and stopped. “Who are you? You don’t work here.” The nurse, wasting no time, went directly to the phone on the wall to call security.

  “No, I don’t think so,” Corrine started, then everything happened all at once.

  Corrine aimed the gun at the nurse and pulled the trigger. The shot went wide and hit the wall. The nurse screamed and fell to the floor, taking cover, the phone left dangling by its cord.

  Then Corrine swung back to Lenore, and as she did Nolan Hubble tackled her to the ground, and Michael Patrick pulled Lenore across his body, out of the bullet’s trajectory. Corrine’s shot missed its mark as her son’s had. This time, no one was wounded.

  Seconds later, hospital security and the D.C. cops swarmed the room.

  “Are you all right?” MP asked Lenore with concern.

  “I’m fine, thanks to you and Nolan.” She was flushed and breathing hard.

  “You sure?” He placed a protective hand on her abdomen.

  “I’m sure.” She managed a smile and laced her hand through his. “Are you okay? You didn’t pull anything loose?”

  “Not a thing, love. Nik, you okay,” MP asked as Nolan was still pinning Corrine to the floor.

  “Yes, I’m good. Nolan—”

  “I’m fine, Nik.”

  “You should check her for more weapons,” Lenore said when the police moved in to take her away. “There’s an entire arsenal at her house.”

  The arresting officer did and found another handgun and a small switchblade in her other pocket.

  “My God,” Nik exclaimed. “How many people did she plan to kill?”

  Lenore said nothing, but her private thought was as many as she could. Somewhere along the way, Corrine Kennedy Maxwell had had a break with sanity.

  “He raped me, you know. That’s how Jack was conceived. He raped me. I bet he didn’t rape you, did he? DID HE? ANSWER ME! YOU OWE ME THAT MUCH!”

  Too horrified to speak, Lenore shook her head, tears stinging her eyes.

  The cops dragged a cuffed Corrine through the door toward the elevator and started reading her Miranda rights to her.

  “I want a lawyer,” Corrine said in almost a whisper. The elevator doors opened and, mercifully, she was gone.

  The police were all over the tiny room, and MP needed to be moved because it was now a crime scene.

  Lenore went to Nolan Hubble and embraced him. “Thank you for saving my life, maybe all our lives. That was a brave, selfless thing for you to do. Someday I’ll tell your children what a hero their daddy is and how proud they should be to call you their father.”

  He looked at her, stunned for a moment, then said with a grin, “Happy to be of service, fair maiden,” and gave her a courtly bow.

  “Do you think what she said was true?” Nikko asked.

  “That she was raped?” Lenore asked.

  “Yes.”

  “If she wasn’t, she certainly believes she was. Her rage was real. I don’t think you can fake that.”

  “It’s sad,” Nik said softly. “If it wasn’t for the way she went after you, Lenore, I might almost feel bad for her.”

  Lenore nodded her head in agreement. “Whatever is going on with her psyche, it’s been going on for a long time. She needed help and never got it.”

  “She’ll have nothing but time where she’s going. Maybe she’ll be helped in prison,” Nolan said, draping a protective arm around Nik.

  Later, when she and MP were alone, Lenore said, “You’re my hero, too. You pulled me out of the way and had the presence of mind to hit the call button.”

  “Of course I did mo chuisle. Did you think I was just a pretty face?”

  She laughed at his mock indignation. “No, it’s one of the many things I love about you.”

  “Oh, do tell me about the others.”

  ****

  Word of his wife’s dramatic arrest came to Senator Byron Maxwell at his Capitol Hill office.

  Once he was certain that no one had been injured or killed Maxwell said, “I always knew she was certifiable.”

  “Indeed,” Morris agreed darkly. “In front of a number of witnesses, she accused you of rape, and it has already leaked to the press. I don’t care how crazy she is, this is going to cause a shit storm that will make your affair with Lenore Held look like drizzle on a summer day.”

  “I didn’t rape her.”

  “Did you take her against her will?”

  “I was drunk, she was my wife, is my wife, I took her.”

  “Forcibly?”

  “God damn it, I don’t know.” He remembered the horror-struck look on Corrine’s face, in her eyes, the tears on her cheeks.

  Morris studied him and shook his head. “Any other women you took by force?”

  “No, damn it, no. And I’ve paid for that night for the last twenty-two years. I was going to leave Corrine, marry Lenore. My career, my father, the money be damned. But then Corrine turned up pregnant and guilt kept me from leaving her.”

  Morris said nothing.

  “Well?” Maxwell demanded.

  “Well, what? I have nothing to offer. You created your own hell and will continue to live it. It’s too bad you took so many other people with you, especially Corrine and Jack. It’s like Kelly said about Nathan; he had no control over his conception—neither did Jack. Both you and your wife wronged the young man. I never realized how badly until now.”

  “I know,” the senator said softly. “I know and I can never say I’m sorry.”

  “But you can to Nathan Held. I suggest you do that. I also want you to know I will be retiring from public service effective July Fourth, a patriotic day, and that gives you almost three months to replace me.”

  “You can’t be serious.” Maxwell was obviously taken aback.

  “I am. It’s about time I started to enjoy the wealth I’ve acquired over the years. Travel, sleep when I want, eat when I want, maybe find a lady for companionship.”

  “Aren’t you a little old to have a midlif
e crisis?” Maxwell inquired.

  “You’ve been in crisis most of your life, Byron. I think it’s time to fade into the sunset. It’s been a good ride for the most part, but now it’s time to cruise.”

  Maxwell laughed morosely. “You’re leaving a sinking ship. Should I resign and be done with it?”

  “That’s something I can’t answer for you, Byron.”

  ****

  The following day, Senator Byron Maxwell resigned from public life. His decision was made when he saw his broken wife screaming at her arraignment about how he had raped her. He blamed the Democratic judge for allowing cameras into the courtroom. It was always someone’s fault, wasn’t it?

  But she could rage all she wanted. Even if people believed she was raped, the ten-year statute of limitations was long past. She and the media could make all the accusations they wanted, but he could never be prosecuted. Senator Byron Maxwell would continue to proclaim his innocence.

  Epilogue

  Lenore’s dining room table was set for Thanksgiving dinner. She’d prepared a feast, because there was much to be thankful for. Her family and friends were gathering together to celebrate their blessings.

  Once the fervor over Corrine Kennedy Maxwell’s arrest and Senator Maxwell’s resignation had died down, Lenore and Nathan had faded into the woodwork, a significant footnote but a footnote nonetheless, and she was pleased.

  Corrine had been charged with a number of offenses; the most significant were two counts of attempted murder. She had plea-bargained and received fifteen years in jail. Lenore figured she’d do ten if she got time off for good behavior. While in the penal institution, she would be receiving psychological counseling at the request of her own attorneys. They claimed she suffered from battered-wife syndrome. Lenore had no idea what she suffered from but was glad she would be getting help.

  Byron Maxwell, on the other hand, was free to do as he pleased. Unbeknownst to Maxwell, Jack had left all of his money to him, a tidy nest egg to live off of even after he divorced Corrine. He was said to be writing a book and had received a two-million-dollar advance. Both she and Nathan had been approached with book deals and had turned them down.

  Nate was at Yale Law, embracing his studies with zeal. He thought he might want to go to work for the Justice Department after graduation. He’d ignored his father’s attempts to have a relationship and had bonded well with his stepfather. Lenore was happy they’d become close. Nate was still conflicted about his feelings for Kelly Hyde, and she refused to wade into the fray on that issue.

  Nikko and Nolan were to be married on New Year’s Eve. Their son, Dillon James Hubble, had indeed been born on Halloween, much to Nikko’s delight. Their relationship had taken a sharp turn for the better after Nolan had subdued Corrine Maxwell. He’d even stopped the crazy, inappropriate social comments, for which both she and MP were grateful. The relationship was still volatile, but it seemed to work for them.

  Laid Bare had sold over a million copies and was going to be printed in London at the start of the New Year. They had received a contract to coauthor two additional books with the option for more. Plus, both were still writing their own works. Their wedding picture remained private, displayed on the fireplace mantel in Lenore’s office.

  Michael Patrick’s injuries had healed well, and except for the nasty scar he still bore on his left side, Lenore would never have known that she’d almost lost him.

  Lenore was placing a cornucopia centerpiece on the table when her musings of things to be thankful for were interrupted by the thing she was most thankful for.

  “There she is, little one. There’s your mum,” Michael Patrick soothed. “I think she misses you. She’s been fed, burped, and changed, and she’s still fussy.”

  Lenore smiled and reached for their daughter. Mia Rose had been born two weeks early but was healthy and usually a very contented baby. The child quieted as soon as she was nestled against her mother.

  “I thought she was going to be a daddy’s girl.”

  “Wait until she’s old enough to want something. See how quickly she attaches herself to you then.”

  MP laughed and pulled both his girls gently into his arms. “Thank you for a beautiful daughter.”

  “Thank you. Half of her is you, too.”

  “But I had all the fun, and you had all the work.”

  Lenore laughed now, eyes bright.

  “Are you sure you’re not overdoing it? You had this wee lass fourteen days ago.”

  “I’m fine. Don’t I look fine?”

  “You look fabulous. No one would suspect you just had a child.”

  “Thank you.” She kissed him lightly. “She’s asleep; let me put her down. She’ll be out for a while.”

  MP followed Lenore into the nursery, and once Mia was down, both parents gazed lovingly at the little miracle that was their daughter.

  “Happy Thanksgiving, mo chuisle.”

  “This is the best Thanksgiving ever.”

  He kissed her in agreement.

  Acknowledgments

  As always, I’d like to thank my closest friends, Gregg, Jane and Karyn, for reading several versions of this work and being my biggest supporters.

  Thanks to Nina Alvarez, my first professional contact, in the publishing arena. Her enthusiasm for the story line, characters and dialog, encouraged me to keep refining the work.

  My deep appreciation also goes to Marlene Adelstein, who critiqued several versions of the manuscript and always gave me her honest feedback as to what was working and what wasn’t.

  Finally, many hugs for my daughter Ashley Victoria, who challenged me to write a book when I was “encouraging” her to do her homework. Now finish your own book, challenge back at you. I love you, baby.

  About the Author

  L.A. Long is an insurance industry executive by day. She lives in Bucks County, Pennsylvania with her family and three cats.