Sinister Secrets

by Amanda McKinney

  “And, nice to meet you as well, Agent Monreau,” Steph said before stepping around them, sweeping her breasts past Noah’s arm.

  He flickered a glance to her, and she quickly looked away.

  James, a perfectly-quaffed twenty-something, smacked Noah on the back with a bleached-white smile. Perfect for cameras. She remembered seeing his face on the local news several times.

  “Agent Fox, good to see you. Hell, it’s always good to see you, especially after saving our lives.”

  Fiona blinked. What the hell was she missing? Obviously, there was a ton Noah hadn’t told her. Or, avoided telling her.

  “Good intel, that’s all,” Noah said.

  Norris shook his head and turned into his office. “Not good intel, good gut. That was a split-second decision.” He looked at Noah with true admiration in his eyes. “I owe you, son.” He then looked at James, who was eager to stay and hear why two FBI agents were at his boss’s office. “Give us a sec, will you, James? Close the door on your way out.”

  James paused for a moment, then grabbed a folder from the desk. “Alright. We’ll finish this conversation…”

  “As soon as I’m finished with Special Agent Fox and Monreau.” The senator’s voice was sharp, clipped, and there was no doubt that what Fiona had heard on the other side of the door was an argument.

  After nodding at Noah and casting her a quick glance, James closed the door behind him.

  Norris sank into his chair and blew out a breath. “It’s always something,” he muttered. “Anyway, what brings you here?”

  Noah slid a picture on the desk. “Misti Seager. You know her?”

  Norris frowned as he looked down at the photo. “Can’t say that I do.”

  “Are you sure? Take a good look.”

  Norris held Noah’s gaze for a moment, then looked back down. “It’s not ringing any bells. Now, tell me what this is about.”

  “Miss Seager was found dead in her house last night.”

  Norris leaned forward and placed his elbows on his large, shiny desk. “I’m sorry to hear that,” his Southern drawl thick as if he knew exactly how to say those words to make the most impact. “What does this have to do with me, Agent Fox?”

  “She had an invite to the gala you threw last night.”

  Norris’s eyebrows slowly lifted. “Ah, I see.” He looked down at the picture again, but this time, really studied it. “I don’t recognize her, but considering that you’re here, standing in my office, I’m assuming you already verified that she attended the event?” He cocked his head, “And, what? Passed away after?”

  “Precisely. Are you one-hundred percent sure you don’t recognize her?”

  “The face isn’t ringing any bells, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t met her. I do a lot of handshaking and bullshit small talk at events. I’m sure you understand that.”

  “Life of a politician.”

  He chuckled.

  Fiona stepped forward. “Senator Norris, to be blunt, Misti Seager has a questionable background, with friends who have a very questionable background, and she doesn’t appear to be the type to attend your gala, or vote for that matter. Why was she invited?”

  “Ah, that makes sense, then. The event was to raise money for local women’s shelters. I believe my team invited a few women that had stayed at the Devil’s Den location to talk about their experiences with the donors.”

  Interesting. “Were any other women from the shelter invited?”

  “Ah hell, I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Steph.”

  “Is she the one who put together the invite list?”

  “Not sure. She’s the gal to ask, though. You got proof this girl attended?”

  “Yes.”

  “And proof that she was murdered after?”

  “We can’t get into those details, Senator,” Noah said.

  “Of course you can’t. Well, this means you’re looking at everyone that was at my event, which directly implicates me.”

  Noah didn’t respond but held his gaze.

  “I don’t need this right now, you know that, right? I’ve got re-election coming up soon.”

  “A dead body is a dead body, no matter what time of year it is.”

  Norris studied him for a second. “Guns, not politics, right? Follow orders, don’t make them, right?”

  Fiona’s eyebrow slowly cocked. He was needling Noah.

  “You don’t even like politics, do you, son?”

  “Never was one for bullshit.” Noah’s tone was calm but loaded.

  The corner of Norris’s mouth curled up. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his leather chair. “Tell you what. I’m hosting a dinner tonight at my house, a kind of prequel to election season. Back to back events; trust me, Steph got an ass chewing for that. Anyway, most of the people that were there last night will be there again tonight. Why don’t you and,” he glanced at Fiona, “Miss Monreau come? Drinks start at six-thirty. It’ll give you an up close and personal look at my staff.” He narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. “That way, you can knock them off your list real quick.”

  A second of heavy silence ticked by. Noah pulled another picture from his pocket. “One more thing, do you recognize this guy?” He tossed the picture of Joel Davis on the desk.

  “Nope.”

  “You didn’t see him last night?”

  “No.” The senator leaned forward, his eyes narrowed. “Assuming this one’s dead too, then?”

  “Not long after Miss Seager.”

  “Did he come to the gala, too?”

  “That’s what I’m asking you.”

  “Well, in that case, I can’t say for certain either way.”

  “No bullshit, Senator.” Noah’s tone was ice-cold.

  “That’s right, son. No bullshit. So two homicides, one linked to me, one loosely linked. I’m no rocket scientist—never claimed to be—but I know when it’s time to call my lawyer. So unless you’ve got time to wait around until he shows up, I’m going to call this little meeting of ours.”

  Noah picked up the pictures from the desk. “Thank you for your time, Senator Norris.”

  As they walked out the door, Norris said, “Looking forward to seeing you both tonight.”

  CHAPTER 11

  “Why didn’t you tell me you knew Norris?”

  Noah tore his gaze away from his phone and glanced at her, his expression blank as if barely listening.

  “I said, why the hell didn’t you tell me you knew Norris? Saved his life? I don’t like going into things blind, Fox.”

  He glanced at her again, this time, locked eyes with her. Calling him “Fox” grabbed his attention. Note to self.

  They pushed out the front door, and a cool gust of wind swept past. The overcast morning had turned into an even darker afternoon.

  “I didn’t save his life, trust me.”

  “How do you know him, then?”

  “I met him in DC a few years back.”

  “Seemed more than just a casual introduction meeting.”

  “We were trapped in his damn car for two hours. Small talk starts to dwindle within the first thirty minutes.”

  “Why were you trapped in his car?”

  “We were working with the Secret Service on a credible threat that day. I was assigned to Norris. I suggested a change in his route at the last minute and delayed his arrival.”

  “And?”

  “And, there was a fake bomb in a backpack along the route.”

  “The route you diverted.”

  “Yes.”

  “Was Norris specifically targeted?”

  He snorted. “No. Some idiot teenagers looking to make a splash. Like I said, the bombs weren’t even real.”

  “But if they would have been, you would’ve saved his life.”

  Noah shrugged.

  “So it was you, Norris, and who else in his car?”

  “Steph and James.”

  “Patrick?”

  He shook his he
ad.

  “What was that thing between you two?”

  This time, Noah smirked. “Old friends.”

  “Yeah, right. You two looked like you were about to pummel each other.”

  “Ran into him last night on some curvy roads, that’s all. No big deal.”

  “Fine. But I’d appreciate it if you gave me a heads up on this kind of stuff next time.”

  “You got it.”

  She blew out a breath. “Norris is kind of a dick if you ask me.”

  “All politicians are.”

  “Quite the umbrella statement.” As the words came out, sprinkles of rain began to fall on the sidewalk. Their pace picked up. “We need to narrow down our timeline here. Joel was sixteen miles away when Misti was seen walking into the hotel. We know Misti was killed around ten at night, and Joel around midnight. So, from the time Joel visited the ATM until he was shot, is unaccounted for. Where the hell did he go? More importantly, what brought him to Devil’s Den in the first place?”

  Noah glanced at her. “What did Joel need the most of in his final days?”

  Her brows tipped as they stepped up to his rental car. “Money.”

  Noah gave a quick nod and then opened the door for her.

  She paused, turned fully to him. “Whoa, whoa, wait. Wait. Are you implying Joel was paid to come down? To do something for money?”

  “Joel came to Devil’s Den for one reason, and he died for it. Money is a hell of a motivator, and one of the most common motivators in homicides.”

  “He came for money, then someone killed him for that money.”

  “Or for what he knew.”

  “We have got to figure out who he booked that room for. That’s our guy, I know it. That’s the guy Misti went to see. He knows something. He’s the missing link.”

  Noah nodded.

  “God, Noah, could this have something to do with Misti’s… line of work?”

  “My gut’s telling me it does. Getting caught with a hooker is a career killer. Can completely ruin someone’s life. That’s a lot to consider.”

  “You’re sure Joel wasn’t paying for sex? You said he was lonely.”

  “Yes, he was, but according to his bank accounts, there was something Joel needed a lot more than a quickie. He sure as hell wouldn’t have driven a thousand miles for it. Have you been to the dark corners of DC? Politicians and hookers go together like cheese and wine. No, Joel wasn’t in Devil’s Den for the hookers.”

  “Money, then. You’re right. He did something for money. Something bad…” She shook her head. “I just can’t imagine.”

  “Me, either, Fi—

  Fi.

  He continued, “We have to look at the facts. Money and greed. Route of all evil.” The rain began to pick up. “Get in.”

  She dipped into the passenger seat, and after closing her door, he jogged around.

  As they backed out, she said, “You get his cell phone records yet? Maybe the person he booked the room for is in there.”

  “Yep. I’ve got someone combing through them now, and as of three minutes ago, not a single call to Devil’s Den, or anyone on Norris’s staff.”

  “Which doesn’t mean shit.”

  He pulled onto the highway. “Right. I didn’t expect to get anything there. Joel was FBI, for Christ’s sake. If he was doing anything illegal, his communication would’ve been through a burner phone.”

  She glanced at him. “What do you think about Norris?”

  He waited a minute to respond. “I think he’s a typical politician. Will do anything to get elected. Make promises, but when he’s in the hot seat, only looks out for himself.”

  “He was pretty open to invite us into his home tonight.”

  “I put two homicides on his desk. He’d have been stupid not to. Speaking of which,” he glanced at her. “How do you feel about being my date?”

  His date. “I can play the role for one evening,” she said with a slight grin.

  He smiled, and she realized it was the first time he’d smiled all day. Just then, his phone rang, and his face hardened again.

  By the time they arrived back at Graves, it was pouring.

  He pulled to a stop behind her truck, and paused. “You going to check on that tox? Use some of your connections to get it pushed through today?”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” She glanced at her watch. “Damn, I’ve got to get home to pick up some files before heading to the office.” She wanted to ask him where he was headed, but before she could—

  “Pick you up at six?”

  “See you then.”

  His phone rang again, but this time, he didn’t move.

  She smiled, “I’ll let you get that. Don’t be late.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Fiona narrowed her eyes as she glanced in the rearview mirror. The same red car that was behind her when she’d left her house was still behind her now. She’d taken a few extra turns, and so did the vehicle, but it had stayed far enough behind that she couldn’t determine the size or model, or if it purred, or not, for that matter.

  But, it was red, she was certain of that.

  She slowed at the Black Rose Investigations sign. The car did, too. She turned into the driveway, slammed the truck into park, grabbed her gun, and pushed out the door.

  The car turned onto a dirt road behind her and disappeared.

  She waited a beat, then with a shake of her head, slid behind the wheel. She was jumpy, irritable, and possibly turning an innocent situation into something it wasn’t.

  Kind of like what she was doing with Noah, too. Or, was she?

  She took a deep breath as she drove down the long driveway that led to Black Rose Investigations. Rain and leaves blew down from the trees that grew like a tunnel over the driveway. At the end, the castle-like estate where she worked was lit up, complete with gleaming gargoyles at the peaks.

  She’d never forget the first time she laid eyes on the place, and even all these years later, it still took her breath away. Haunting, yet magical, all at the same time… kind of like her last few days.

  Her stomach tickled as Noah’s face flashed through her head—the look in his eyes, the lingering when he’d dropped her off at her truck. Something was brewing between them, she felt it in her gut, hell, she felt it through the sexual electricity shooting between them. There was no doubt he felt it too, and as much as she hated to admit it, she couldn’t wait to see him again.

  She rounded to the back of the house and hit the brakes.

  Like a scene in a creepy movie, three figures dressed in long black cloaks with hoods pulled over their heads scurried toward the house.

  What the hell?

  She parked, grabbed her Glock and silently slipped out. Rain sprinkled her face as she hunkered down and darted along the house, keeping her eyes locked on the mysterious figures. She crouched behind a bush, slid her finger over the trigger, raised the gun, and—

  “Whoa there, Miss Oakley.” Ace’s deep voice mimicking an old western movie came out of nowhere behind her.

  She spun around. “Jesus, you scared me! Who the heck—

  “The girls. Scar, Rox, and Harley.”

  She looked over her shoulder and watched her cloaked Black Rose sisters disappear into the house. She turned back to Ace. “What the hell? What the hell are they wearing?”

  “We’ve been in the woods.”

  “Where? In a black and white Hitchcock film?”

  He grinned, then nodded toward the house. “There’s been developments.” He continued in his deep, thick, fake accent. “Come on, there, lil’ Miss, let’s get out of the rain and into the saloon before the hoodlums—

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “Watched Gunsmoke last night.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re so…” She shook her head. “Anyway, what developments?”

  “Come on.”

  They fell into step together, and when he didn’t answer, she looked
up at the hard expression on his face.

  “Krestel,” she said.

  He opened the back door for her, and overlapping chatter ensued. Mud slick on the floor, hands waving in the air. The door closed behind her, and three faces turned toward her.

  “Fi!” Harley popped the top off a beer she’d just yanked from the fridge.

  Roxy smiled. “Hey, Fi. How’re you feeling?”

  Scar winked. “Looks like she’s back to normal.”

  Harley, her face and hair speckled with dirt, winked and handed her a beer.

  “I’ll take one of those.” Roxy sat down at the table, removed her mud-caked boots and began shaking pebbles out of them. Harley pulled another beer and tossed it. Without even glancing up, Roxy caught it in one hand.

  If nothing else, the drinking habits of the Black Rose team were seamless.

  Ace breezed past her and grabbed one of his fancy microbrews.

  Fiona frowned, set down her unopened beer and shoved her hands on her hips. “What’s going on? Besides you all being dressed up like creepy, evil Little Red Riding Hoods.”

  Harley glanced at Roxy.

  Something was going on.

  Something big.

  Just then, Dixie and Raven burst through the back door, walking like ducks, balancing on their heels. Fiona’s gaze fell to their feet, both in flip-flops, with little white cotton balls stuffed between each toe.

  Dixie smiled. “Hey, Fi.”

  Fiona gave her a what-the-heck look.

  Raven grinned. “Team meeting, at the nail salon. It was my turn to choose the location.”

  “I broke a pair of clippers,” Dixie muttered while rolling her eyes.

  “Gross.” Ace squeezed his face.

  Dixie’s smile quickly faded as she zeroed in on Roxy. “Okay. Tell us.”

  The room fell silent as all eyes bore into the unofficial leader of Black Rose.

  “We found her.”

  Fiona’s mouth dropped. “What?”

  Dixie nodded to the fridge. “I’m going to need a beer.”

  “Make that two,” Raven corrected.

  As Ace tossed two beers across the room, Roxy continued, “We found Krestel. Deep in the mountains, like we thought. Miles into the woods. No roads or anything. She’s not too far from the clearing where she shot down Zander’s helicopter a few weeks ago.”