At one time, when Angus first came to Washington, the offices were neat and tidy, newly paneled with rich furnishings. Back then she’d had the mistaken idea that she could take her place here in this city and work alongside her husband even if it was just in a social way. That idea had never gotten off the ground, thanks to Irene Marshall. She hated thinking about Irene Marshall. Even though the woman was dead, she still managed to insinuate herself into her thoughts. What in the name of God was she doing here anyway? She’d risen at four-thirty, unable to get back to sleep. Her intention had been to head to the airport for the first available flight back to Texas. Halfway to the airport she’d had the driver turn around and bring her here, to Angus’s office. Whatever she hoped to find was not forthcoming. Did she dare open Angus’s safe? Why not. On one of Angus’s trips back to Corpus Christi she’d managed to go through his wallet and had come up with the combination to the safe.
