Lust and Lies 04 - Pretty Maids in a Row

left her name and cell phone numbers with the message that it was in reference to Ziegler.
    April MacLeash returned the call within fifteen minutes and got right to the point. "I don't think we should discuss anything specific over the phone. Suffice it to say, your name was given to me quite a long time ago as someone who may have suffered a trauma at the hands of one or more of the individuals listed in my letter. A number of us discovered we shared similar experiences and formed a very unique therapy group."
    "Because we're scattered over the country now, we only have semiannual meetings, but due to the current situation, several of us are in Washington this week. There's no cost to join our group or attend sessions, and, if you'd like to meet with us while we're here, there wouldn't be any obligation on your part to become a regular member. I assure you, it won't hurt to talk with us, and it might do you a lot of good, whatever your personal history is."
    Holly was not one for joining groups—she had never even joined a sorority in college—nor did she normally make spontaneous decisions, but after the miserable night she had had, she was willing to try anything, including the outside help she had always avoided. "I've never talked about it with anyone. I'm not sure I can now."
    "That's okay. You wouldn't have to talk at all this time if it makes you too uncomfortable. Just listening to the others might benefit you. The important thing is for you to realize that you're not alone and whatever happened was not your fault. The extent of your participation in our group after that is solely up to you."
    "All right. I'll try," Holly promised, before giving herself time to equivocate.
    "Good. We're meeting in the executive suite of the Kessler Hotel at noon tomorrow. There will be a buffet lunch served in the room. I look forward to seeing you then."
    "Yes. Same here." Holly's voice belied the words. She had no idea if meeting these women would help or hurt her mental state but she felt certain once she took that step there would be no turning back.
    * * *
    David Wells sat in the luxurious lobby of the Kessler Hotel, pretending to read the newspaper he was holding up in front of him. It wasn't a very original ploy but it was one that usually worked. The phone call he'd received Monday night from Senator Ziegler had convinced him to drop everything else he was working on and focus on what he'd been told. Although he was not one of the throng of reporters assigned to cover the Senate hearing, he had been keeping abreast of the proceedings. Since he wasn't reporting it, he could afford a bit of bias.
    He had met the senator while investigating the top-heavy administrative staff of the Department of Housing and Urban Development. Ziegler was one of the few people he had dealt with who had come out crystal clean. The exposé David wrote for The Washington Herald resulted in the resignation of the then secretary and the subsequent recommendation of Senator Ziegler for that post.
    David liked Tim, as a politician and as a man, and on the basis of the latest polls, more than half the country believed he was being unjustly vilified by Cheryl Wallace.
    It had been a long time, but David's own experience with being falsely accused was still a raw wound. When he was sixteen, he'd lost his job at a delicatessen when the owner's jealous son blamed him for a shortage in the cash register—right after the boy had loaned David the same amount of cash that was missing, as a favor . With the money in his pocket and the son's word against his, David hadn't stood a chance of being believed.
    Firing David had meant nothing to the deli owner but it had devastated David, not only because he'd been framed, but the income had been helping to support his four brothers and sisters. Getting another job where he could work as many hours had been almost impossible, especially after the man spread word of the theft to other merchants in the neighborhood.
    He couldn't change his own past, but perhaps he could help the senator with his present dilemma.
    Altruistic motive aside, if what Tim Ziegler had implied was true, it would make one hell of a story!
    When Ziegler had testified to the Senate committee the yesterday, he had spoken quietly, and with considerable embarrassment, about the wild fraternity parties he'd once participated in. He was obviously guilt-ridden over the youthful overindulgence, but he could look back with a clear conscience