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She snorted, but he could sense that one of her rare smiles was behind it. “You ready?”
“Lay it on me.”
“Amelia Wesson née Nolan is the daughter of the late US Congressman Beekman Davis Nolan—he went by Davis—who represented his district for thirty-two years.”
“Huh.”
“If you’d’ve been paying attention, you would’ve heard of him. He served on too many committees and advisory boards to list, presided over one congressional hearing in 1994 and another in ’98. A public safety bill that was voted into law bears his name, because he wrote it and introduced it. He was well liked and admired on both sides of the aisle.”
“Which side was he on?”
“He hailed from a state that usually goes red, but he didn’t always toe the party line. He was a flag waver, for sure, but he was often outspoken against diehard conservatives, especially when it came to personal-liberty issues. Abortion. Gay marriage. Like that.”
“Made enemies?”
“He had his critics. But his more liberal outlook also won him admirers on the other side. Basically, he was that rare bird that’s almost extinct in politics—a man of integrity. Even the people who disagreed with him admired him. Couldn’t be influenced by lobbyists, never backed down from what he believed in. His hero was Jefferson, and he quoted him a lot. By the way, do you want Harriet the Harridan in on any of this?”
“Not yet.”
“I didn’t think so. She’s cussing you over something.”
“Must have been that crack about her extra ten pounds.”
Glenda cackled. “Watch yourself. I’ve heard rumors that she’s into voodoo. Know what she did today? The portrait of her predecessor that hung in the lobby? She had it taken down. Said he was gone and that a new regime had taken over. Like we needed reminding. The bitch.”
Dawson shared her sentiment, but the less said about Harriet the better for his frame of mind. He redirected the conversation back to Nolan. “What about the congressman’s personal life?”
“Squeaky clean. Widowed in the midnineties. They’d been married since The Flood, and he never remarried. No scandals. Not one nekkid girl caught sneaking out of his office, no little boys in his shower. Social drinker, nonsmoker. On paper, he was a saint.”
“Find anything on the daughter?”
“Amelia. Middle name Ware. These southern names just kill me,” she mumbled as an aside. “Born May 1981, which makes her—”
“Thirty-two.”
“I can subtract,” she snapped. “Attended Vanderbilt. Active in various campus organizations. Took it upon herself to launch a food-and-clothing drive to help hurricane victims in Alabama and went herself to see that the goods got where they were supposed to go. Made national news. Yada yada.
“Graduated summa cum laude with a degree in history. Earned a master’s while working at a museum in Boston. Then she spent two years working at another in Baltimore. But when her father retired from public office—”
“Do you know why he retired?”
“No specific reason given. He made an announcement that he wasn’t going to seek reelection. Nothing noteworthy or suspicious. Just tired of it, I guess. He was nearing seventy.”
“Okay.”
“Anyhow…Where was I?”
“When her father retired…”
“Right. She moved back to Savannah and became his assistant. She served as his hostess, social secretary, Girl Friday. Together they sponsored fund-raisers for numerous charities.”
“Was she married to Jeremy Wesson during this same time?”
“Let’s see…yeah, there was an overlap of a few years. The congressman died in early 2010. Mrs. Wesson now works—”
“She goes by Nolan.”
“—as a curator at the—”
