She wanted an immediate denial, but the sadness and regret on his face was all the answer she needed. He did believe those things. They were enemies.
“Marianne, I’m so sorry,” he said. “You seem like a great person, but there’s too much bad blood here. We probably shouldn’t see each other again.”
“You’re probably right,” she admitted. Any sort of liaison between them would be too difficult, but that didn’t stop the wanting. “I only wish we could have had another day or two before we found out.”
“Maybe a week,” Luke agreed.
“A month?”
“How about a year?”
She had to laugh at how easily he bantered with her. He was fun, but seeing him would be like throwing a bomb into her family’s home. It wasn’t worth it. At least now she understood why her father got so annoyed when he saw her picture of Luke with the dog. He’d known who Luke was and suggested she have nothing more to do with him. Blood was thicker than water. Even ice water, she thought inanely.
At the door, Luke turned to her with an impish smile and wagged his finger in her face. “No more crawling on the Capitol dome, young lady.”
“Too dangerous?”
“Too dangerous,” he affirmed.
“It probably was,” she admitted. “Good luck with the Don Quixote translation. I’ll look forward to it.”
He winked at her. “It will be the best.”
Then the amusement in his face turned into reluctant admiration as he glanced back at the photographs hanging on the clothesline. “No matter what else happens, I think your pictures are wonderful. And so are you.”
He closed the door behind him, and Marianne felt like she’d just lost a good friend.
Luke was still mulling over his bad luck as he rode the streetcar back to the Alexandria neighborhood where he’d been born and raised.
Marianne Magruder. Magruder. Luke had plenty of friends, thousands of acquaintances, a handful of rivals, but only one real enemy in the world, and his name was Clyde Magruder.
Luke wouldn’t let an inconvenient attraction stand in the way of a lifelong grudge. No matter how much he admired Marianne, he intended to get Clyde kicked out of Congress.
He walked the last few blocks to the three-story colonial town house he shared with Gray and his wife. He was inexplicably tired as he mounted the steps and prepared to unlock the front door, but then paused.
Arguing voices could be heard inside. He cocked his ear closer to listen, for it was clearly Gray’s voice berating Annabelle over something, and that was odd. Gray worshipped the ground Annabelle walked on, and they were still newlyweds. Luke didn’t want to walk into an embarrassing quarrel, but he still couldn’t tell the nature of their disagreement.
It sounded like they were arguing about Annabelle’s job. She’d been working as a lab assistant at the Department of Agriculture for over a year, and she loved the work, but they were clearly squabbling about it. Annabelle said she liked her supervisor and didn’t want to quit.
Then Gray said something too low to hear, and they both started laughing. It was freezing out here, and since it didn’t sound like a horrible lovers’ quarrel, Luke inserted his key in the lock and let himself inside. Gray and Annabelle were in the kitchen down the hall, and he stamped the snow from his feet to let them know he was there.
“Luke!” Annabelle said warmly. “Come into the kitchen. I’ve made lamb stew for lunch. You’re the perfect person to help me talk sense into Gray.”
Luke loved the sound of her voice. Everything about Annabelle was cheerful and optimistic, but as usual, Gray looked brooding and annoyed. The scent of simmering meat was too tempting to resist, and he helped himself to a bowl before joining them at the small kitchen table.
“There’s a new initiative in the chemistry division at the Department of Agriculture,” Annabelle said. “They’re finally getting serious about proving the detrimental effect of chemical preservatives on human health and are launching a controlled scientific study to document the consequences.”
“Excellent!” Luke said, wolfing another mouthful of stew. “Long past due, if you ask me.”
Annabelle worked in the cereal grass laboratory, but lately she had been spending a few hours per week at the lab that tested some of the worst of the preservatives being pumped into the nation’s milk and meat supply. Borax, benzoate, and formaldehyde were supposed to extend the shelf life of dairy and meat, but none of them had ever been proven safe. There were no laws against the sale of adulterated food, and cost-cutting methods were shockingly creative. Butter was often only beef tallow steeped in yellow food dye. Chalk powder was used to disguise milk diluted with water. Children’s candy was colored with lead dyes.
And sometimes coffee was adulterated with chicory and chemical flavorings, leading to three dead people in Philadelphia.
He looked at Gray. “What’s your problem with the study? We ought to be dancing in the streets now that someone is finally doing something about this.”
Gray’s face was somber. “They’re planning to use human test subjects,” he said quietly.
Luke glanced at Annabelle. “True?”
“True,” she confirmed. “But Dr. Wiley will be overseeing the experiment, and surely he wouldn’t do anything to harm the volunteers. He’s a medical doctor, after all.”
“He’ll be feeding people borax!” Gray said. “Formaldehyde. How does one safely consume formaldehyde?”
It looked like he wanted to say more, but Luke interrupted him. “Who will the test subjects be?”
“We’ll be looking for twelve healthy young men,” Annabelle said. “They’ll get free room and board in exchange for participation.”
Luke sagged back in his chair, a world of possibility opening up. For five years he’d been tormented by his role in the death of those people in Philadelphia. This could be his chance to repay his debt. His chance to strike a blow at the Magruders and any other food producer who pumped chemicals into their food. If he served as a test subject, he could cover the story as a journalist from the inside, and it would make news around the world.
“Where do I sign up?” he asked. He was suddenly on his feet.
“Oh, for pity’s sake!” Gray roared. “Sit back down. You’re not going anywhere.”
“I’m going to sign up,” he repeated, looking at Annabelle, who seemed as stunned as Gray. “Tell me where I go to volunteer.”
“Luke, I don’t think you’re healthy enough to volunteer,” she said.
“You’re sick and underweight and not thinking with a clear head,” Gray said.
Luke took his bowl to the stove, adding two more heaping scoops of meaty stew. “I won’t be underweight for long.”
A new field of combat in his war against the Magruders had just opened, and he was going to be on the front lines.
Four
Vera Magruder was sobbing as she dragged a trunk out of the storage closet and toward her bedroom.
“Mama, please,” Marianne urged. “Please put the trunk back. Papa will be home soon and will be able to explain everything.”