Chapter 26
Reverend Abraham Woods Jr Boulevard, Birmingham
Birmingham Museum of Art
Elizabeth kept the requisite smile firmly in place as she moved about the room. She had shaken two hundred hands, exchanged summer vacation stories, and urged the wealthy of Birmingham to be generous.
The night was already a rousing success and it was scarcely half over.
Her parents were here. District Attorney and Mrs. Wainwright. Mayor and Mrs. Duke. The elite had turned out in droves. And she had done what she did best: persuaded them to part with their money.
Yet she was alone.
She paused. Allowed her thoughts to wander to Carson for the first time since her arrival.
He’d promised to escort her tonight. But then, at seven, a mere half hour before he should have picked her up, he’d called to cancel.
Something urgent related to his investigation had come up.
Disappointing to say the least, but she chose to be understanding.
Perhaps this was why her mother took to her sickbed two or three times per week and Mrs. Wainwright took a bottle to bed each night.
The life of a politician’s wife was not an easy one.
But it was her calling. Elizabeth smiled. She had loved Carson Tanner since she was five years old.
Their mothers had laughed and said that the two were destined to be together judging from their playground antics.
But that had been before. Everything had changed and her parents had forced her to go away.
Elizabeth’s lips pressed together to restrain the fury that to this day arose at the very idea of what her parents had done. They’d had no right to interfere.
She took a deep breath, glanced around the crowded room. But she was over that now. She had her life back. Success belonged to her. The timing was right and nothing or no one would stop her from being with Carson this time. Her family would not stand in her way.
Carson still loved her. She was certain of that. The way he looked at her, held her when they hugged. Oh, yes, she was very certain.
“Elizabeth!”
She turned to greet Congressman Weller and his lovely wife. “Congressman Weller, what an honor to see you and Mrs. Weller here tonight.”
Elizabeth and the congressman’s wife shared the expected cheek-to-cheek hug; then the congressman took his turn.
He always held on a little longer than necessary, crushing her into his chest. Elizabeth hated that about him.
But he was a powerful man with deep, deep pockets, so she tolerated his annoying behavior.
“The fundraising work you’re doing for the center is astounding,” Weller beamed. “I can’t tell you how much your efforts mean to us.”
“Thank you so much. I’m pleased I can help.”
“You look particularly stylish tonight,” Mrs. Weller commented, drawing Elizabeth’s attention to her and her somewhat dim smile and less-than-pleasant expression.
“Thank you.” Elizabeth ignored the obviously insincere compliment. Older women always resented the younger ones. She supposed she would do the same one day. Or maybe the congressman’s wife recognized her husband’s fetish for young, firm breasts. Poor woman.
Elizabeth did feel especially elegant tonight.
She had taken care with her attire. The strapless royal blue cocktail dress fit like a glove.
The classic high-heeled, strappy sandals had been meticulously dyed to match.
It had taken the cleaners twice to get it right.
Too bad Carson wouldn’t see her in this outfit.
“It appears the gala is going well,” the congressman remarked, moving past his wife’s lack of tact and prodding Elizabeth back into the conversation.
“Extremely well,” Elizabeth parlayed. “I believe we’ll double our expectations.”
The congressman waved a finger at her. “Remind me to hire you as my campaign manager next go-round.”
Elizabeth beamed but didn’t respond to the offer. She liked her job. Already had a plan of her own that did not involve helping someone else attain his goals. “I hope you’ve already made your generous donation.” Might as well get the conversation back on track.
“I’m headed that way now,” Weller assured her.
Elizabeth ushered the couple to the table where pledges were being accepted before wandering through the crowd to mingle some more. Basically, that was her job this evening. See and be seen. Ensure everyone pledged a large donation.
She waved to her father, then headed for the bar. Her drink had gone flat. There was little time to indulge herself at these functions, but she kept a glass in hand throughout the night. When she did take the occasional sip she preferred the wine crisp.
Her mother’s hasty retreat drew Elizabeth’s attention to the other side of the room. What now? Dutifully she followed, leaving her unfinished drink on the nearest tray. Patricia Drake had escaped to the powder room. If her mother did anything to embarrass Elizabeth . . .
No. She wouldn’t do that. Patricia Drake, of all people, understood the importance of appearances.
Elizabeth found her mother in the lobby of the ladies’ room. When Patricia looked up she immediately tucked her cell phone away.
“What’s wrong?” Elizabeth demanded a bit more sharply than she’d intended.
Patricia pushed her lips into a smile. “Why, nothing, dear.” She stared into the full-length mirror and pretended to check her makeup and hair.
Who had she been speaking with? “Mother.” Patricia didn’t look at Elizabeth as she moved up beside her. “What’s wrong?”
Patricia dropped her hands to her sides and met her daughter’s gaze in the mirror. “I’m just disappointed Carson wasn’t able to make it.”
No. No. They weren’t starting that again. “His work is important,” Elizabeth said firmly. “He felt terrible having to let me down at the last minute. But”—she gave her mother a pointed look—“I understand that his obligation to the DA’s Office has to come first.”
Worry lined her mother’s face. “Your father is certain this is a mistake, Elizabeth. There are things . . .” She let her words trail off with a dramatic sigh.
Rage boiled inside Elizabeth. “I don’t want to hear it.
” She took a moment, carefully chose her next words.
“Mother, do not allow Father to interfere. This is between me and Carson. I will not pay the price for Dane’s mistakes.
It’s time you made your choice.” She let her eyes reflect her determination. “Him or me? What’s it going to be?”
Uncertainty flickered in her mother’s green eyes before she blinked it away. “You’re right, dear. You deserve whatever makes you happy.” Patricia took her daughter’s hand in hers. “I’ll make sure your father does whatever necessary to help make that happen.”
“Promise?” Elizabeth prodded.
Her mother smiled. “Promise.”
Elizabeth escorted her mother back to where her father was deep into a legislative debate with the congressman. She kissed her mother’s cheek before making her way to the bar as she’d intended. She really needed that wine now.
At the bar she waited patiently for her turn. An open bar ensured a line.
“My, my, I do believe you’ve outdone yourself tonight.”
Elizabeth’s gaze swung to the woman who had paused at the bar next to her.
Annette Baxter.
Elizabeth watched, appalled, as the woman sidled up next to her.
She clamped her jaws together. Calmed the beastly anger that had roared before she could tame it.
She prided herself on her ability to find the good in all.
But somehow she just couldn’t find anything good in Annette Baxter.
Even before the investigation had begun, Elizabeth had known there was something inherently evil about the woman.
Baxter faked a smile. “Vodka on ice with lime,” she said to the bartender.
Elizabeth blinked, appalled all over again. She had been here first. Holding back her impatience, she smiled for the harried bartender. “Raymond, a fresh Chardonnay when you have time, please.”
Raymond gifted Elizabeth with a smile and a nod.
She knew how to treat people. Just because someone worked in the service field didn’t mean they were any less of a human being.
Apparently Annette Baxter had forgotten what it felt like to service others.
A righteous smile tugged at Elizabeth’s mouth, but she held it back. She had manners.
Baxter accepted her drink without so much as a token word of gratitude and savored a long swallow.
Disgusting.
Elizabeth, conversely, said, “Thank you,” before accepting hers.
Baxter turned to Elizabeth then and studied her a moment. No doubt noting how elegant Elizabeth looked compared with the skintight, floor-length sheath she wore.
The lavender color was pleasant enough, but the overall effect was tawdry to say the least.
“I see the senator’s done a bang-up job of grooming you to replace him.”
Elizabeth manufactured a credible smile. “I have no plans to seek a seat in the Senate.”
Baxter mirrored that same feigned expression. “According to my sources, that is exactly the plan.”
Fury continued to pound at Elizabeth’s composure. She prayed Carson was able to send this harlot to prison for a very, very long time. “I’m afraid your sources have failed you this time, Ms. Baxter.”
The woman had the gall to laugh. “I don’t think so.”
Elizabeth squared her shoulders and prepared to give her the brush-off. “It’s a free country. You can think what you wish. Enjoy your evening.”
When Elizabeth would have walked past her, Baxter said for her ears only, “Just remember, Ms. Drake, there will come a time when you need me.”
Elizabeth glared at her. “I beg your pardon.”
Baxter smirked. “I know everything about your family, Elizabeth. Every little thing.”
It took the full measure of strength Elizabeth possessed not to dash her wine in the woman’s face. “Are you threatening me?”
That was exactly what it sounded like. A threat.
“Oh, no, no, no. I would never do that.” Baxter looked directly into Elizabeth’s eyes. “I’m in the business of keeping secrets, not divulging them.” She dared to lay a hand on Elizabeth’s arm. “Trust me, your secrets are safe with me. I would never let the senator down.”