Free 07 Uncorked - Chrissy McMullen Mystery by Lois Greiman Page A

“we shall have a bottle of your ‘95 Chateau Margaux, please, and a few minutes alone.” The maitre d’ left with a slight bow. The senator turned toward me. “Christina…” he said, and reaching across the table, took my right hand in his. His fingernails were prettier than mine. “You look more lovely than ever.” I refrained from clearing my throat but couldn’t quite resist fiddling with the silverware with my free hand. Each piece weighed half a ton and if hocked, could probably pay my second mortgage. “Thank you.”
    His expression sobered even further, which was quite a miraculous feat. “I cannot tell you how it pained me to hear that you and my son had gone your separate ways. I have, for so long, thought of you as my daughter,” he said, and stroked my knuckles. A little shiver of something less than familial raced up my spine. It was difficult to identify. In fact, maybe it was best not to try. After all, it wasn’t that long ago that the senator had become engaged to one of his son’s ex-girlfriends. Even more recently, said girlfriend had been found toes up on the senator’s well-polished hardwood floor.
    The Rivera family closets come fully stocked…skeletons being liberally scattered amongst the Armani suits.
    “Thank you,” I said again, and coyly dropped my gaze to the tablecloth. “But that’s not what I wished to speak to you about.”
    “Of course not.” He drew a deep breath, making his nostrils flare dramatically. “Of course it is not, Christina, for you are a wonderful, caring woman.” I stared at him. I’ve been called a bunch of things. Wonderful, caring…not so often.
    He shrugged, eyes sparking a little at my obvious uncertainty. “Even though you and my son are no longer lovers, you still care for his well-being, si?” I wasn’t sure how to answer that one. I mean, I had no intention of saying that I retained any sort of feelings for Rivera. He was an ass, remember? Then again, it seemed kind of wrong to tell the senator that his only son was a cheating piece of dog poop and I didn’t care if he burned in hell for all eternity. I hedged carefully. “Do you know where he’s being held?”
    He stared at me for a second, saying nothing, then, “Christina…” His paternal voice was one of his best, but my knuckles hadn’t forgotten the stroking. “I know you only wish to help, but this wound…” He shook his head gently. “…it is not yours to heal.”
    “I know, but Rivera…” I paused and adjusted my phraseology to fit the audience.
    “Gerald and I were…” What were we exactly? “We were friends, and it only seems right that I help him.” I leaned forward, hands fisted on the table, emotions circling like angry buzzards inside me. “I need answers, Senator. Why was he arrested? What kind of evidence do they have that he was involved? Where is he?”
    “Ahhh…” He shook his head and stroked my hand again. “Such is your kindness even though he broke your heart.”
    “He didn’t break my heart,” I said, even though he had kind of broken my heart. “We simply decided it would be best if we went our separate ways. I mean, we’re too different. But that’s not the point. The point is, he’s been unjustly accused.” He smiled with kindly understanding. “You are a generous woman,” he said. “And I am certain you are right. I am certain that the other woman meant nothing to him.” Who was talking about the other woman? I certainly hadn't. I hadn’t even been thinking of the other woman…mostly. Still, I felt my face heat up, felt my anger flare like an acetylene torch. “You know about her?”
    His smile lifted a little more. “I have been planted in the City of Angels for a long while, Christina. My roots go deep. There is little I do not know, especially if it concerns those for whom I care.”
    “I care for him, too,” I said, but if Rivera had been standing right in front of me at that precise moment, I would have been hard