Beauty Queen

drop you and your promising political career like a hot potato."
    "I'm their mother and—"
    "If you lock up Cora once more, or if you hit Jessica once again, as God is my witness, I will cable Sidney in China and he'll be on the next plane home from Peking. You know damn well, my dear, that you wouldn't dare do these things as long as he is around."
    "He wouldn't. .
    "You bet he would, my dear, and he might even divorce you and sue for custody of the children, and you might even lose them! And then we'll see if you'll be governor of New York!"
    "Don't you 'my dear' me," she hissed. "Where do you get this 'my dear' stuff, anyway? You sound just like some faggot."
    There was no stopping Bill now. "You get down on your knees in front of your famous family altar, my dear, and ask God to shine His flashlight into your heart, and see if you like what you see there . .
    "You dare to judge me," she raged, "and I always knew you were an infidel of some kind, with your sneaky ways lately,, not giving me any help with the campaign, running around the city all the time. It's pathetic to see a man your age chasing after skirtsl"
    It left them shaking, and drenched with sweat—the worst quarrel they'd ever had.
    Jeannie turned on her heel, and went back downstairs to where her staff was working away. Bill marched straight down to the kitchen, and poured a glass of milk for Cora, and made her two peanut-butter sandwiches. His hands were shaking so much that he could hardly butter the bread.
    Auntie Mary tried to interfere, muttering something about how the Bible said that children should be punished, and he turned on her. "If I hear one more word about the Bible, the whole bunch of you will be out in the street, and you can bum your Bibles to keep warm."
    When he went back upstairs to Cora, he sat on the bed and watched her wolf the sandwich and chug-a-lug the milk.
    "Granddaddy," she said with her mouth full, "hey, you can level with me. Is that true what Mom says, that you chase women? You can tell me, Granddaddy, I won't tell anyone, I promise."
    She grinned at him with that disarming too-grownup way she had.
    Bill grinned back tautly.
    "If I did chase women," he said, "I'd tell you. But I never chased women in my life, and that's God's truth."
    "Okay," she said, shrugging pleasantly, "just asking."
    When Bill went back downstairs, Jeannie was on the phone to some party person in Syracuse, the envelope-stuffing had been finished, and most of the staff had gone outside to barbecue themselves some hot dogs and hamburgers. Only a few of Jeannie's political workers were still sitting around— and one of them was the young woman he had seen at the MCC church service on that Sunday morning weeks ago.
    A sensation that was more than fear, a nameless terrible sensation, crashed into his chest.
    There was no mistaking her. He had seen her twice: once at MCC, and once at the South Street house, when she had worn the uniform of a New York City police officer and bent over the dead tramp so briskly.
    He went into the library, closed the door, and sat down to think for a few moments. He distractedly pulled out a book titled The Upper Crust filled with photographs of old New York City mansions, and tried to think things through.
    He had better not panic. He had to handle this carefully.
    There was every possibility that she had not seen him at MCC, or she had seen him in passing, and did not connect him with the man she'd met at the South Street house. It was only a slim possibility, because police officers usually had a keen memory for faces.
    He decided that he would test the wind and see if she seemed to connect those two men.
    So he left the library, and went out onto the lawn.
    As he walked toward her, he was thinking. What was she doing here, anyway? If she attended MCC, she had to be a lesbian. What was a gay person doing in the Colter organization? There were three possibilities that his logical mind ticked off right away. One, she believed in Jeannie's politics in non-homosexual areas, and simply wanted to work for her. Two, she was a plant put there by some gay activist group, who wanted inside information on Jeannie's anti-gay activities. Three, she intended to harm Jeannie or the Colter organization in some way.
    Out amid the gnarled apple trees, the staff were all grouped around a couple of redwood picnic tables. They were talking shop quietly, as smoke drifted up from the barbecuing meat. The young woman was sitting with