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s and ankles would give her away. So far, no one had made a comparison. To the Rutledges, she was Carole. They were convinced.
Or were they?
Why hadn’t Carole’s coconspirator spoken to her again?
That worry was as persistent as a gnat that continually buzzed through Avery’s head. Dwelling on it made her ill with fear, so she concentrated more on Carole’s personality in an effort to avoid making mistakes that would give her away.
As far as she could tell, she’d been lucky. She wasn’t aware of having made any major blunders.
Now that departure was imminent, she was nervous. Being under the same roof with the Rutledges, especially with Tate, would increase the opportunities for making errors.
In addition, she would resurface as a congressional candidate’s wife and be called upon to cope with the problems associated with that.
“What’s going to happen in the morning, Tate?”
“Eddy told me to prepare you. Sit down.”
“This sounds serious,” she teased once they were facing each other in matching chairs.
“It is.”
“Are you afraid I’ll commit a faux pas in front of the press?”
“No,” he replied, “but I can damn well guarantee that they’ll commit some social taboos.”
Because he was criticizing her profession, she took umbrage. “Like what?”
“They’ll ask you hundreds of personal questions. They’ll study your face, looking for scars, that kind of thing. You’ll probably have your picture taken more times tomorrow than at any other time during the campaign.”
“I’m not camera shy.”
He laughed dryly. “I know that. But tomorrow when you leave here, you’ll be swarmed. Eddy’s going to try to keep it orderly, but these things have a way of getting out of hand.”
He fished into his breast pocket again, produced another piece of paper, and passed it to her. “Familiarize yourself with this tonight. It’s a brief statement Eddy wrote for you to read. He’ll have a microphone set—What’s the matter?”
“This,” she said, shaking the paper at him. “If I read this, I’ll sound like a moron.”
He sighed and rubbed his temples. “Eddy was afraid you’d think that.”
“Anybody hearing this would think the crash had damaged my brain more than my face. Everyone would assume you had locked me away in this private hospital until I regained my sanity, like something out of Jane Eyre. Keep the mentally disturbed wife—”
“Jane Eyre? You’ve certainly gotten literary.”
She was taken aback for a moment, but retorted quickly, “I saw the movie. Anyway, I don’t want people to think I’m mentally dysfunctional and must have everything I say written out for me beforehand.”
“Just don’t let your mouth overload your ass, okay?”
“I know how to speak the English language, Tate,” she snapped. “I can put more than three words together at any given time, and I know how to conduct myself in public.” She ripped the prepared statement in half and tossed it to the floor.
“Apparently, you’ve forgotten that incident in Austin. We can’t afford mistakes like that, Carole.”
Since she didn’t know what mistake Carole had made in Austin, she could neither defend herself nor apologize. One thing she must remember, however, was that Avery Daniels had experience speaking before television cameras. She was media sophisticated. Carole Rutledge obviously had not been.
In a calmer voice, she said, “I know how important every public appearance is from now until November. I’ll try to conduct myself properly and watch what I say.” She smiled ruefully and bent to pick up the torn paper. “I’ll even memorize this vapid little speech. I want to do what’s best for you.”
“Don’t put yourself out trying to please me. If it were up to me, you wouldn’t even be making a statement. Eddy feels that you should, to alleviate the public’s curiosity. Jack and Dad go along with his opinion. So you’ve got to please them, not me.”
He stood to go. Avery rose quickly. “How’s Mandy?”
