Читать книгу Silence is Golden - Grace Quincey - Страница 13

Chapter 7

Remorse

He opened his eyes and stared at walls he did not recognize. He was definitely not in his own bed, and he was alone. He must be at Cheri’s. The last thing he remembered was being at Flaherty’s with her at the table, drinking and chatting, and her hand constantly caressing his leg. They had drunk many drinks, and she had told him how she was celebrating being made a junior partner and how she had been told she would probably be handling the representation of the Drake Hotel and other gambling industry clients that the firm would be handling in the near future. He did remember congratulating her again and doing a little caressing on his own. When had Tom Harding left the table? Lord, he knew better than to drink that much, even though yesterday was probably one of the most stressful days of his life! What had he done? He couldn’t even remember! What had he done to his marriage and to his future possibilities as a politician? He needed his wife for that role. He had never been out all night before, and he would never be able to explain this to Jenene in light of the way he slammed out of the house last night.

He rolled out of the bed, and as he did, he saw a note propped on the end stand, and it was, of course, from Cheri: “Darling, thanks for a wonderful night. Will see you at work. I can’t be late this morning”—and signed—“Love, Cheri.”

With near panic, Dan showered and dressed. His car keys were still in his pocket, and as he headed out the door of the apartment, he hoped he still had a car because he certainly did not remember driving to Cheri’s. He finally spotted his car, and he kept looking around guiltily to see if anyone was watching him. My, what guilt could do! He hurriedly got into his car and very quickly headed for home. His mind was in a complete turmoil again. What would he say to Jenene when he got there? What kind of story would she believe? If only he hadn’t said what he had and then slammed out of the house, it would have been easy to concoct a story she would believe.

“I must get this righted,” he repeated to himself. “I need a beautiful, talented wife at my side to get to the top.”

As he entered the house, he called out to her, but there was no answer.

It’s early yet, he thought. Where in the world is she?

He checked the bedroom, but her bed had not been slept in. Unlike Cheri, she had not left him a note. With more guilt, he remembered the note Jenene had shown him for which he had shown no real concern. Was she really in trouble?

He turned on the television, and the news was saturated with the reports of the governor’s death and all the speculations. The Carson City sheriff had made only the general statement that the governor’s death was being given top-priority investigation and that as soon as something definitive was determined, he would make a more detailed statement.

Not knowing which way to turn, Dan, ever so meticulous about his appearance, changed suits and headed toward his office. En route he kept wondering over and over how he had messed up last night. This was no way to get an inside promotion, much less climb to the top. And how was he going to face Cheri? What more would she be expecting? How was he going to work in the same office day after day? And how was he going to straighten out things at home? On that thought, he dialed home, but there was no answer. He then dialed his office, and when Tara answered, Dan knew something was awry by the hushed tone of her voice.

“What is it, Tara?” Dan asked her.

“The police are here, Dan, looking for you,” she said. “It has something to do with that man that called you yesterday using your name. The police are calling him Arnie something or other.”

“Okay,” said Dan, “tell them I am on my way and will be there in a few minutes.”

Combine guilt and remorse and a dead client-to-be, he thought, and what does it get you but an office full of police detectives.