Page 3 of Fighting for Mallory

Her statement jolted Mallory. Californians wouldn’t stand for it. Bentley declared himself on the Democratic ticket. “Why is the senator supporting my husband?”

“Don’t you know? Once in office, your husband’s leanings may be…blurred.”

Mallory shook her head in disbelief. “That sounds like dangerous politics.”

“It’s all dangerous, Mallory. You’ll get used to it.” Annalise glanced off to her right when she heard a strident voice. “Oh, there’s Congressman Barnes’ wife. I’ll introduce you.”

After a thirty-minute conversation with Mrs. Barnes, Bentley joined Mallory to escort her into the lavish dining room where a catering staff waited to serve the guests a five-course meal. Delicate china and gleaming silverware dotted a long table topped with fragile glass and lacey linens. Stemware reflected the light of two crystal chandeliers. Place cards, engraved in a fine gold scrawl with guests’ names, indicated where they should sit. Mallory sat across from an African American, former pro-football player whose philanthropy in South Central LA was widely known. She enjoyed discussing his good work with underprivileged children and his job training partnership with a staffing company who helped lift people out of poverty.

“We need to do more.” He addressed his remark to Bentley. “How will you help as governor, Mr. Hayes?”

Bentley had no interest in aiding the poor and afflicted, but he’d prepared a response to the question. “There is a program in Florida that seems to be working to provide affordable housing based on the median income of a particular area. The money for such programs comes from multiple volunteer sources. My staff is currently researching it as a viable option for certain areas in LA. I also think Habitat for Humanity could do more, if your fellow athletes were willing to give of their time and money as you so generously have.”

Winston Wright, no fool, pressed the issue further. “Affordable housing is only one issue. We need to clean up the streets, crack down on drugs and gangs. Is there a program for that?”

Bentley smiled through the challenge. “I’ll create one.”

As the caterers served pieces of dark chocolate cake with fudge frosting, Mallory excused herself from the table. She felt Bentley’s eyes watching her leave the dining room.

On the pretext of searching for a bathroom, Mallory wandered through the Keanes’ home trying to find a landline phone. Most of the rooms she came across had locked doors. She descended a set of stairs that led to the lower level of the house and heard music blaring from behind a door on her right. This must be the sixteen-year-old’s bedroom.

Mallory rapped on the door and a young voice called above the music, “I told you, brat, leave me alone!”

“Hello? May I come in?”

She heard rustling and the music faded. The teenager yanked open the door. With her golden hair and deep blue eyes, she resembled her mother. “Yeah?”

“Hi, I’m District Attorney Mallory Hayes. You must be Ari.”

“So? What are you even doing down here?”

“Well, this is embarrassing. I was looking for a bathroom, then I realized I left my cell phone in the limo, and I need to make an important call related to a case I’m working on. May I use yours?”

“This might be a stupid question, but why don’t you ask to use your husband’s?”

“Bentley would get upset if he knew I was thinking about work instead of about him and his politics. Men can be such babies at times.” She winked.

Ari agreed and handed Mallory her cell phone.

“I’ll just be a minute.”

Mallory moved out of earshot and pressed Luca’s number. His cell phone rang numerous times.

Please answer. Oh, God, please answer your phone!

When it went to voicemail, she left him a whispered message. “Luca, it’s Mallory. I’m scared of our limo driver. I think I saw part of a fanged copperhead tattoo on him. Right now, we’re at Senator Keane’s home in Malibu. I’m not sure how much longer we’ll be here, but I’ll feel better knowing you’re looking out for me.” She almost added that she loved him but changed her mind and returned Ari’s phone.

“By the way, there’s a bathroom upstairs to your left. You walked right past it.”

Mallory widened her eyes. “Oh, I did? Thank you, Ari.”

She used the bathroom, washed her hands, and repaired her lipstick. When she rejoined the guests now milling again after dessert, a wait staff member offered her a glass of champagne.

Within minutes of sipping the last few drops, Mallory’s head spun, and nausea hit her hard. Darkness invaded the edges of her vision. Half blind, she grasped at Bentley.

“I’m…” Her voice trailed into nothingness.

CHAPTER TWO

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