“I know you have. You don't know how she got the bruises. She may have just made that up to make him look bad. I know he's been seeing someone for a while. Janet is probably trying to get even with him, by saying ugly things about him.” He was looking worse by the minute to Maddy, and she didn't doubt Janet's story for an instant. She hated Paul just thinking of it.
“Why don't you believe her?” Maddy asked angrily. “I don't understand that.”
“I know Paul. He just wouldn't do that.” It made Maddy want to scream as she listened. They argued about it until they went to bed, and she was so angry at Jack for not believing her that she was relieved they didn't make love that night. She felt far closer to Janet McCutchins, and had more in common with her, than with her own husband. But he didn't seem to notice how upset his wife was.
And before they left the next day, Maddy reminded her that she'd be in touch with information for her. But Janet looked blank as she said it. She was too afraid that Paul would hear them. She just nodded and got in the car, and they drove away a few minutes later. But as Maddy and Jack flew back to Washington that night, Maddy was staring out the window at the scenery below in silence. All she could think about was Bobby Joe and the desperation she had felt in those lonely years in Knoxville. And then she thought of Janet and the bruises she had shown her. It was as though Janet were being held prisoner, and she didn't have the courage or the energy to escape him. In fact, she was convinced she couldn't. And as they touched down in Washington, Maddy made a silent vow to do everything she could to help her.
“How was the weekend of Washington's most glamorous award-winning anchorwoman?” He liked to tease her about the life they led, and the fact that she and Jack were often at the White House. “Did you spend the weekend with our President, or just go shopping with the First Lady?”
“Very funny, smart-ass,” she said, and took a sip of the steaming coffee. She was still haunted by the confessions of Janet McCutchins. “Actually, Jack had lunch with him on Saturday at Camp David.”
“Thank God, you never let me down. It would kill me if I thought you were lining up at the car wash like the rest of us. I live vicariously through you. I hope you know that. We all do.”
“Believe me, it's not that exciting.” She never really felt it was her life anyway, she always felt as though she were living in the spotlight she borrowed from her husband. “We had the McCutchinses down to Virginia for the weekend. God, he's disgusting.”
“Handsome guy, the Senator. Very distinguished.” Greg grinned at her.
Maddy was silent for a long moment, and then decided to take Greg into her confidence. They had become very close since they started working together, like brother and sister. She didn't have that many friends in Washington, she'd never had time to make them and those she had made, Jack never liked, and eventually pressured her not to see them. She never objected because Jack kept her so busy, she was always working. In the beginning, when she'd met women she liked, Jack always had some objection to them, they were fat, or ugly, or inappropriate, or indiscreet, or he thought they were jealous of her. He kept Madeleine carefully guarded, and inadvertently isolated. The only people she really had a chance to get close to were at the office. She knew he meant well in protecting her, and she didn't mind, but it meant that the person she was closest to was Jack, and in recent years, Greg Morris.
“Something awful happened this weekend.” She started cautiously, still feeling a little awkward about divulging Janet's secret. Maddy knew she wouldn't want people talking about it.
“You broke a nail?” he needled her, and she usually laughed at him, but she looked serious this time.
“It was Janet.”
“She looks pretty colorless and drab. I've only seen her a couple of times at Senate parties.”
Maddy sighed, and decided to take the plunge. She trusted Greg completely. “He beats her.”
“What? The Senator? Are you sure? That's pretty heavy.”
“Very heavy. I believe her. She showed me the bruises.”
“Hasn't she had mental problems?” Greg asked skeptically. It was the same reaction Jack had had, and it annoyed her.
“Why do men always say things like that about abused women? What if I had told you she had hit him with a golf club? Would you believe me? Or would you tell me that fat bastard was lying about it?”
“I'd probably believe him, I'm sorry to say. Because men don't lie about things like that. It's pretty unusual when a man is abused by a woman.”