A Killing Sky by Andy Straka

maybe. Cassidy and Cartwright weren't even in kindergarten yet.”
    “That's when you all became friends.”
    “Yes.”
    “What kind of work did you do?”
    “I worked on his first campaign. Phone calls, stuffing envelopes, that sort of thing. Art and I had only been married a few years, and Jason was still little too, of course. Karen had just finished her residency in pediatrics. She was working part-time for a practice here in Charlottesville, and she used to bring the girls and they would sit and play with Jason.”
    “Was Drummond still practicing at that time?”
    “No. He never finished his residency. Said he'd decided he enjoyed politics too much.”
    “Quite a switch.”
    “I suppose.”
    “I take it money's never been much of an issue for the Drummonds.”
    “No, it hasn't. Tor's always had more money than was probably good for him.”
    “So you all became pals. Drummond's up for reelection every couple of years. You work on more than one of his campaigns?”
    “No,” she said. “I quit after the first one.”
    “How come?”
    She hesitated. “I don't know. I got too busy, I guess. Karen and I have stayed friends, though.”
    She could tell I wasn't buying it. I took the Crozet exit and turned right on U.S. 250. “Why'd you stop working on the campaigns, Marsh?”
    Tears appeared in her eyes again. She sniffled.
    I waited.
    “Tor Drummond tried to rape me,” she said.
    I took my foot off the gas and looked at her. Her eyes were puffy, and her voice seemed to come from some far-off wilderness of grief and despair. I pulled the truck over to the shoulder, found a tissue for her in the glove box, and gave her a few moments.
    “Witnesses?” I said.
    She shook her head. “Of course not.” She lifted her shoulders in a sob and leaned her head against the passenger door's window. She dabbed at her cheeks with the tissue and gently blew her nose.
    I gave her a few more moments. This was no time to rush. “You want to tell me how it happened?”
    She turned her head and looked out the window. Fog was lifting over the field beside the road. Testifying to a true Virginia spring, a few trees here had actually begun to sprout their leaves already, despite the recent cold. Some cars swooshed by, then a John Deere tractor followed by a line of frustrated motorists.
    When she spoke, her mouth moved, but the rest of her seemed locked in some frozen section of her memory. “It was a couple of days after the election. At the time the district was mainly centered in Richmond, and Drummond had his headquarters there. Tor won by only a few hundred votes. When the official results were finally announced, he and Karen threw a victory party for the staff and volunteers. The hotel ballroom had been booked for the night of the election, so they held the party at someone's house in Richmond. A big house. Belonged to some big contributors. I don't remember the name.”
    She took a deep breath.
    “Art stayed home with the children in Charlottesville, so I drove down with another volunteer. It was getting late. They were playing Rolling Stones music on the stereo, and there was dancing and a lot of champagne. Karen finally left to go home with the two girls, but Tor, the owners of the house, and a few of the staff and volunteers, including my ride home, wanted to keep celebrating.
    “I went upstairs to use the bathroom. It was the kind between bedrooms—you know, with two doors. I thought everyone else was still downstairs. I'd had a little to drink, but I wasn't drunk. Tor must have followed me or something because I was just turning to lock the second door when he elbowed his way in.” She shook her head in disgust.
    “What did you do?”
    “I was too shocked to react at first,” she said. “I asked him to leave, but before I knew what was happening he had his arms around me, pulling my head back by my hair and kissing me hard. I wanted to scream, but I just couldn't. It almost didn't seem real. He started