All-American Werewolf

Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

“Oh, my goodness…” Peter said, exhaling a long tendril of smoke. It was a bad habit he was trying to quit, but he found it hard to relinquish when either extremely relaxed or excited. “Someone call the police because this guy’s getting murdered.”

Peter was sitting up in bed as Angie snuggled close to him, his arm resting lazily around her shoulders. They were both still naked as they enjoyed a lazy Sunday morning following their first night of lovemaking, one that Peter was certain he would never forget. At various points throughout the preceding night, each had expressed undying, passionate love for the other, and Peter was seriously now thinking about finding the perfect diamond ring to ask Angie to marry him.

As if last night hadn’t been glorious enough, Peter was starting his day off with a treat by watching Garrou make a fool of himself on Meet the Press. Russert had started predictably enough, tossing him softballs about the race against Thompson, allowing Garrou to focus on his favorite campaign theme of restructuring the economy to favor the working class.

After the first commercial break, however, the tone of the interview changed, with Russert really pressing Garrou. He pointed out that Garrou spoke like he was an ally of the working class, as if he were a populist, painting an image of himself toiling in a factory or mine prior to getting elected to Congress, whereas the only work he’d ever done since getting his Stanford law degree was for the Garrou Foundation.

“My family, like a great many other American families, has been wonderfully blessed by this country and the opportunities to be found here,” Garrou said. “Tim, my goals, my initiatives, my entire platform is trying to make certain that every family in America has the same opportunities mine did, and so everyone can share the wealth.”

That’s when Russert dropped the bomb that made Peter react so. He asked Garrou if, just the night before, he’d had a dinner party for a select group of friends. Garrou confirmed he did, noting it was a small event for associates he hoped to lean on for support in the Senate campaign.

“Congressman Garrou,” Russert said. “An audiotape was anonymously provided to the producers of this television program, one that seems to be a recording of you speaking very disrespectfully of the American electorate. Here, let’s take a listen.”

Though there was a low hiss throughout the recording and overwhelmed at times by the sound of a cello playing, a voice very much like Garrou’s could be heard saying, “I don’t really care… there’ll be some people that complain… but I’m not worried about that. We’ll lose a few votes… but it won’t affect enough people for it to really matter… people won’t care at all after a while because they can get their stuff for cheap, which is all most folks are really interested in… I don’t care about factory workers… I’m certain they’ll still vote for us regardless… that’s what they do… this is what they get for working in factories to begin with.”

“Oh, s**t,” Peter exclaimed. “His goose is cooked!”

“What’s going on?” Angie murmured sleepily next to him.

“Well, good morning, sleepyhead,” Peter said, kissing her gently atop her head. “How’d you sleep?”

“Hardly at all, and I’m happy for it,” she said, smiling up at Peter. “What’s going on? What are you watching?”

“Meet the Press, and Garrou is getting killed by Russert.”

“Really?” she said, popping up excitedly, squinting to see the television without her glasses. “What’s happening?”

Peter clued her in very quickly, then said, “Watch… or listen, as the case may be.”

“Congressman Garrou, do you care to comment?” Russert asked.

Peter noted there was the slightest flicker of something on Garrou’s well-practiced neutral look, though he couldn’t quite place it – was it fear? Anger? Contempt? All three at once? Peter couldn’t tell.

Garrou then smiled, though rather than his normally charming smile this looked more like a pained grimace, and said, “Tim, I have no idea where that tape came from or where it was recorded, but I can categorically deny that’s me on it. It’s fake.”

“A fake?” Russert repeated.

“Absolutely,” Garrou said. “I can completely deny saying that, and I’m sure my dinner guests will all attest to the fact that I never said those words. In fact, Tim, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if this weren’t some nasty political trick by my opposition to make me look bad.”

Oh, he’s good, Peter thought. No one will believe that crap, but he sure as s**t can think on his feet. He’s good.

“Congressman, are you accusing the Thompson campaign of making a fake recording of you to make you look bad?” Russert asked.

“Tim,” Garrou said, trying to sound sincere but failing, “I don’t think for one minute Congressman Thompson had anything to do with this. We disagree on a great many points, but I know he’s a good man, a fair man, and he’d never condone such a low political maneuver as this. However, that doesn’t mean there aren’t some rogue elements in his campaign, or staff, or even within the party itself. There is documented evidence of the national party establishment doing highly unethical things to advance their candidates.”

Angie turned to Peter with her pointer finger out, a suspicious look on her face. “Did you do this? Are you the evil mastermind behind this wicked plot?”

Peter looked down in phony shame, whispered, “Yes,” and then began tickling Angie. As both were still naked and in bed, the tickling led to kissing, which led to groping, which led to natural and expected physical reactions.

“You wanna… breakfast… out after?” Peter asked in between kisses.

“Mmm…” Angie moaned in response. “But first… I want… you.”

Peter’s last fully formed thought before being pulled down into the sensual delights of s*x with a woman whom he deeply loved was, I sure hope Sim does better in his interview today than Garrou did!