Dead Politician Society

Chapter 3: Laura

Laura Pritchard's hands were wrist deep in the dirty dishwater, fighting with the omelet residue Susannah had managed to cake onto the so-called nonstick frying pan, when the phone rang. She wanted to let it go to voice mail—most people would. But she hated to be rude, to keep a caller waiting. She grabbed a towel and picked up the receiver.

Caller ID said Star Newspaper.

Of course. She could ignore the calls but they’d just keep coming. Might as well answer the questions and move on.

“Hello?” Laura said.

“Laura Pritchard.” Penny Craig drew her name out like they were long lost friends. The adenoidal voice brought Laura back to the playground, where Penny had ruled every game worth playing. “Or is it Sutton again?”

“It’s—both. Either is fine.” Laura was surprised Penny would take this interview herself rather than assign it to a staff reporter.

“I’m sorry,” Penny said. “Of course you’re shaken right now.”

But Laura wasn’t shaken. She should be, right? She kept thinking what a shame it was that Hayden wasn't alive for this. He'd love the drama—all this attention, front page news. Plus the press only had good things to say about a dead man. He'd practically been sainted overnight.

“Do you need a quote from me?” Laura asked.

“Oh!” Penny sounded like she hadn’t thought of that. “I’m sure one of my staff will be calling later. Is that fine?”

“Of course it’s fine.” Laura gazed into her backyard garden. Susannah was out there with the tomatoes. As she bent her thick, strong body over the green stalks, Laura smiled. She loved every stray hair, every muscle, every tiny roll of flesh on her girlfriend of three years. She could barely remember the life she’d lived before this one.

“I’m calling you personally because we received a disturbing message this morning. I know you and Hayden are separated, but…”

Penny told her about a note the newspaper had received, an obituary that claimed credit for Hayden's death.

“You mean…he might have been…murdered?”

“This is top secret information, Laura. The police made me promise not to print a word of it so they can investigate without being hounded. They’ve offered me an exclusive interview when the case is over in exchange, so I naturally don’t want to jeopardize that.”

“I understand.” But Laura didn’t understand. Her head felt like it was in a swirling ice cream machine. Except none of the flavors were familiar. “But why are you telling me?”

“Because I'm not a piranha, despite the image I try to maintain for my staff. We’ve been friends since we were three years old. He was your husband, I think it's only fair you know.”

Friends. Laura tasted the word, and was pretty sure she detected aspartame.

“Are you going to be all right? I'm tied up all morning, but I can make time for lunch if you want to chat.”

When had she ever met Penny just to chat? Even in grade school, Penny had run with the cool crowd while Laura preferred to crawl between the pages of Little House on the Prairie.

Susannah stomped in through the kitchen door, mud flinging from shoes she didn't bother to remove. Laura shook her head in mock horror. There was no taming this woman. Which was part of what made her so damn attractive.

“These tomatoes are even better this year than last.” Susannah plonked three juicy looking samples on the counter Laura had just finished scrubbing.