Resist

“And if she’s not there?”

“I have no idea. I only have one option.” I closed everything I had opened.

Vaughn examined Addie’s desk. “Is this the infamous office mate’s space?” He shifted the phone and moved a stack of sticky notes.

“Yes. Don’t touch her stuff,” I scolded.

“You think she’ll notice if I do this?” He opened the top drawer a fraction of an inch.

“Vaughn! She’s super picky about her stuff.”

He chuckled. “Let me know if she notices.”

I tugged on the door. “Oh, she’ll notice.”

We walked to the car and plugged the address I had for Lana in my phone. She lived twenty minutes away.

“Thank you for doing all of this.” I looked at him as he drove us to the house.

“Sweetheart, it’s no big deal.”

Maybe it wasn’t a big deal to him, but to me it was an enormous display of just how much Vaughn was willing to do for me.

“Turn here and it’s on the right.” I pointed to the one-story ranch.

The sun had just started to set. There were long shadows across the driveway. I hadn’t pictured where Lana lived. She was young and newly married. She was also a woman who had an affair with her boss. This neighborhood looked like the kind of place people moved to raise families. Not the kind of place that was home to scandal and home-wrecking.

“I think I should go by myself,” I explained. “It’s a very sensitive case.”

“I get it. Confidentiality. I won’t ask any questions, but if you need me I’m right here.”

I appreciated that Vaughn understood my job. He didn’t urge me to reveal Lana’s name or why her deposition on Monday was so important. I yanked the door handle and walked to the front of the house. There were geraniums in pots on the front steps along with a few pumpkins. I pressed the doorbell. The chimes echoed like church bells. I waited for Lana to answer.

I heard footsteps on the other side. The door opened.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice was hushed and urgent.

Lana quickly joined me on the porch and closed the door behind her. Her strong brow was pinched together nervously.

“Why haven’t you returned any of the calls from the clinic?” I asked. I tried not to sound accusatory. But I was pissed I was here. From where I stood, Lana looked safe and healthy.

“Shh.” She pressed her finger to her lips.

My eyes widened. “Does he not know?” I whispered.

She shook her head. “Please leave, Elliot. I don’t want Simon to see you here. It’s too much to have to explain.”

“You have to tell him,” I urged. “If this turns into a news story he could find out in a headline instead of from his wife.”

Her eyes widened. “Is there a leak? Does someone know? Have you been contacted?”

Under the porch light I wasn’t sure she hadn’t turned pale.

“No. No. Nothing like that.”

I tried to put myself in her shoes. Imagine what was ahead of her. The uncertainty. The fear. Yet she was strong and certain Senator Mitcherson had to take responsibility.

“Anything else?”