Free The Governor's Lady by Robert Inman Page B

a telephone and cigarettes and whiskey and a newspaper and watch all the goddamn television I want.”
    “Going home. Of all the things you’ve said since you got here, that’s the one that makes the most sense.”

    Snow was coming down steadily, beginning to stick to streets, sidewalks, lawns, a white swirl making it hard to see the Capitol at the far end of the boulevard as Ezra turned onto it and ran into a snarl of traffic. They crept along, pulling even now with the Highway Department building. Workers were pouring out in a rush, heading for the adjacent parking deck, which was disgorging cars and adding to the confusion. Not far from the deck entrance, two cars had tried to occupy the same space and had dented sheet metal to show for it.
    Cooper looked at her watch. Just after three. “Ezra, turn on the radio.”
    “… Public schools are being dismissed early, and Piedmont Community College has announced that tonight’s classes are cancelled. And this just handed to me … The Governor’s Office says state employees have been sent home. Lots of traffic on the streets, folks, so remember to take it easy….”
    “Want me to take you home?” Ezra asked.
    “Do I look like a state employee who needs to be sent home?”
    “No, ma’am.”
    “Sorry, I didn’t intend to bark.”
    “Quite all right.”
    Her outer office was empty except for a harried-looking Roger and Grace Stoudemeyer, who sat behind her desk next to the inner-sanctum door, white-knuckling a handbag. Grace had been Pickett’s secretary for sixteen years, and now Cooper had inherited her. She was a sturdy butprim woman in her early sixties, graying hair pulled back tightly from her forehead and anchored at the rear in a ponytail. Half glasses sat perpetually atop her head.
    “Grace, what are you still doing here?”
    “Mr. Tankersley asked me to stay.” Grace pulled the glasses down onto her nose and gave Roger a stern look over them.
    “Well, go home. Be careful and take your time.”
    “Miz Lanier … Governor … Not much in this world scares me, but I’m frightened half to death of snow and ice.”
    “Good grief, what do you want, a police escort?” Roger snapped.
    Cooper kept her eyes on her secretary. “I think that’s a healthy attitude, Grace. Wait a few more minutes and you can ride with me. Mr. Barclay doesn’t strike me as the kind of fellow who’s scared a bit by snow and ice.”
    Roger started to protest. “Governor—”
    Cooper turned to him and pointed to her office door. “In here,” she said.
    Roger followed her and stood while she took off her coat and settled behind her bare-topped desk. She turned and looked out the window. Snow was falling ever more thickly now. The avenue was a parking lot. Flashing red and blue lights. More wrecks, people in a panic. The capital had no equipment to handle snow, and obviously no plan.
    “Could be several inches,” she said. “I heard it on the radio. I also heard on the radio about state employees being sent home.” She turned to Roger.
    Roger shuffled from one foot to the other. “It was … The snow and …”
    “The snow didn’t send them home.”
    Roger hesitated, then said, “Me. I sent ’em home.” A flash of stubborn defiance. “Do you want me to call ’em back?”
    Cooper met his eyes. “I think it’s an excellent idea, sending them home.”
    “I thought you would.”
    “But I heard about it on the radio.” She placed her purse on the desk, opened it, and pulled out her cell phone. “Have you seen my new smartphone? Got it yesterday, right after the inauguration. Latest model, all the bells and whistles. Maybe you don’t have the number. Yet.”
    Color rose around his shirt collar. “No, I have the number. I didn’t—”
    “Did you think it was too minor a detail to bother me with?”
    “You were at the hospital. With Mickey.”
    “That’s true, I was. Maybe this new phone doesn’t work at the hospital. Thick walls, all those beeping