She sat up straighter. “What deal?”
“I wouldn’t give interviews about Ted Sizemore’s murderous daughter who only brought along one pair of exam gloves, slit the fingertip on a sharp piece of trunk, and ended up leaving some partial prints on a car rented by Lee Mandel.” Sam took a sip of coffee. “I wouldn’t talk about how she milked Sizemore Security Consulting of information, used it to fatten up several overseas accounts, and stole the Seven Sins to frame her lover Peyton Hall for everything, including Lee’s murder.”
Kate’s mouth opened.
Sam kept talking. “I wouldn’t tell any reporter how John ‘Tex’ White admitted that Kirby received orders from a mechanical voice, including the orders to kill the de Santos men. I wouldn’t tell reporters about the voice distorter, blonde wig, and gel bra the cops found in Sharon’s L.A. condo. I wouldn’t tell anyone how Peyton Hall was humping Sharon and at the same time taking information off her computer screen, information he used to beef up his own overseas account by cutting deals with the damned South American gangs, including money laundering. And that was as close as the whole mess got to Kennedy’s wet dream.”
“Sharon and Peyton. What a pair.”
“They deserved each other.”
Kate frowned and watched the politic words crawl across the bottom of the TV screen. “Why did she do it? Did she hate her father that much?”
Sam appeared to consider the idea. “I think she hated the old-boy club as much as she hated her daddy. She wanted to prove she could make fools of them.”
“She did, for a while. And then they made a fool of her.”
“Did they?” Sam asked. “Left on his own, Kennedy would have booted this case to the far side of the moon. It took a stubborn, gutsy, and very bright woman to bring down Lee’s murderer. That’s you, darling.”
“And a stubborn, gutsy, very bright FBI man with her.”
Sam laughed humorlessly. “Not very bright or I’d be lined up on the TV with Kennedy’s pets.”
“That was the rest of the deal, wasn’t it?” she said after a moment of silence.
“What was?”
“You don’t get any credit, public or private, for breaking the case.” Her voice rose angrily and she swiped her hair away from her face. “That stiff son of a bitch Kennedy gets it all.”
“He can have it. I got what I wanted.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“What was that?”
“You.”
Kate blinked.
“Kennedy had already cut my transfer orders to Fargo,” Sam said. “I didn’t figure you’d want to work gems in North Dakota, so I made a little deal with a big horse’s ass and the transfer papers were shredded. Of course, I can’t guarantee I’ll keep out of FBI trouble for the next three years, ten months, and seventeen days…”
“But who’s counting, right?” she asked, smiling.
“Wrong. I am. That’s a long time to stay on Kennedy’s good side.”
“Does he have one?”
Sam shrugged. “I haven’t found it yet.”
“Don’t kill yourself looking for it. As long as you bring me coffee, I’ll happily cut gems anywhere.”
He gave Kate a long look, the kind that made heat uncurl through every part of her.
“You sure about that?” he asked intently.
She met his eyes. “Very sure.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
“I’d rather be held by you.”
“It’s a deal.”
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She’d follow them.
It made perfect sense. Tessa gritted her teeth and managed to wedge herself into the tight space at the head of the pickup’s covered bed. The vehicle came to a stop, and she concentrat-ed on keeping her breathing shallow but even, telling herself the men had no reason to suspect that there was a stowaway aboard. No reason, that is, until one of them slammed shut the plastic bin she’d hidden beneath. She hadn’t even realized they had opened it, and started badly when the whole thing reverberated half an inch from her nose.
Her cell phone fell with a clanging noise onto the metal truck bed.
“What was that?” a male voice demanded.
“Shhhhhh,” the other voice hissed.
At that moment, her cell phone received a text message. It lay against the metal of the truck bed and vibrated like a crazed hornet. She snatched it up, hoping the men hadn’t heard it. But, of course, they had. Ricky Hedges threw back the black tarp covering the pickup’s bed and shined a flashlight inside.
Tessa flinched away from the brightness and knew she’d been caught.
Chapter 1
Hollywood, California
Saturday, February 20
2:00 A.M.
If being raped by a hulking professional football player was the price she had to pay to make it big in Hollywood, Kelly Martin figured she should pull up stakes and head back to Kansas. Even working the Blizzard machine at Dairy Queen had to be better than what she had endured over the last few hours.
With a sideways glance at the huge man driving her home in his Hummer, Kelly pressed a hand low on her abdomen to quiet the burning, grinding pain there.
She was positive Britney never had to do anything like this to get her first recording contract.
Kelly felt tears well in her eyes and pushed the thought away. When that didn’t work, she bit her lip hard. I will not let this jerk see me cry. At least not again.
Without turning her head, Kelly checked the position of the man next to her in the front seat, then decided she couldn’t move farther away from him without opening the door and bailing out. Which she would do if he made a single move toward her.
She almost laughed out loud. All of her friends at Central High School in Hays, Kansas, would probably kill to be in her position—being driven home in a luxury car after an evening spent in Hollywood with an all-American hero. Sledge Aiken was the most sought-after celebrity quarterback in the country, especially after his team’s dramatic Super Bowl win last month in New Orleans.
With his slow Southern drawl, light brown hair, and wild green eyes, he would be considered a catch anywhere. When those were paired with six-feet-one inch of heavily muscled physique and a talent for football handed straight down from God, Sledge was the kind of man most girls dreamed of at night.
When Kelly had been offered a chance to go on a date with him, she’d taken it in a heartbeat. After all, every girl in the club was after him. And Jerry had told her going out with Sledge would increase her chances of being seen by celebrity photographers—which in turn would boost her prospects for getting a recording contract.
But Kelly hadn’t known the price she would have to pay. She flashed back to an hour earlier, to the terror and helplessness she’d felt when she realized that Sledge wasn’t going to be stopped by her tears and pleas. When she’d realized that he was going to continue to press her slender body into his velvet couch and take away from her something she would never get back. Something he had no right to take.
Kelly’s lip trembled, even though she still had her teeth clamped around it hard enough to draw blood.
The car turned into a residential area and slowed to a stop in front of a modest single-level home.
“So, are you free next weekend?” Sledge’s voice came out of the darkness, causing Kelly to jump visibly. She had hoped to go inside without having to say another word to him.
She shrugged her shoulders and brought her thumb up to her mouth, chewing on its lacerated cuticle.
Sledge took her silence for agreement. “Then I’ll set things up with Jerry again, okay?”
Kelly shrugged once more and reached for the door handle. It was locked.
“Hey, wa
it a sec. I got something for you, sugar.” At one time, Sledge’s thick Alabama accent would have made her heart turn over. Right now, it made her skin crawl. If she’d had anything at all in her stomach, she was sure it would have come up right then. But she’d been so ill at Sledge’s house after…she bit harder on her cuticle, then tugged again on the door handle.
Sledge released the locks and held something out to her, causing her to flinch away from him.
“It’s for you. And there’s a lot more where that came from. You’re a gen-uine firecracker, darlin’.”
Kelly looked at the crisp hundred-dollar bill in Sledge’s beefy hand. Then she raised her wounded gaze to his for the first time since they’d gotten into the Hummer. She looked into his eyes for guilt, apology—anything. But when he smiled and winked at her she pulled the door open and bolted.
“Aren’t you going inside?” Sledge called through his open window.
Kelly ignored him. She passed the house and continued running down the street in her high heels and cocktail dress, until she disappeared into the darkness of the night.
Chapter 2
Los Angeles, California
Tuesday, February 23
“An eighteen-year-old girl was raped by a high-profile athlete three days ago, and I get the impression the officers who were first assigned to the case couldn’t care less. They haven’t even brought the suspect in for questioning, let alone arrested him. It’s just not right.”
Tessa Jacobi speared a piece of grilled shrimp with her fork to emphasize her point. She then put the bite down untouched, pushed away her half-full plate, and used both hands to tuck her dark blond hair behind her ears.
Police Officer Veronica Harris took in her friend’s barely suppressed anger and chose her words with care.
“I’m sure the officers were proceeding carefully on the case, Tessa. What reason have they given you for not arresting him?”
Tessa rolled her blue-gray eyes. “They say there isn’t enough evidence to substantiate a sexual assault. That’s why I had Carmen pull some strings to get you and Ed assigned to the case.”
And it must have burned like acid to do it, Veronica thought.
Tessa continued. “I hope I didn’t wait too long. Apparently the football player involved is out of town and unavailable for questioning. I just hope the creep hasn’t bailed out of the country to Mexico or something. Getting sufficient evidence to prosecute a date-rape case is hard enough without having the rich defendant flee the jurisdiction.”
Veronica pushed aside her empty plate with regret. She was still trying to lose some of her extra pregnancy weight, and so resisted the temptation to pick at Tessa’s lunch. “If the evidence is there, we can make a case. Start from the beginning. Who is this girl?”
“Her name is Kelly Martin,” Tessa said. “What a sweetheart. She’s eighteen, and came to LA a few months ago to pursue a recording contract.”
“Like thousands of other girls, God help them. Where’s she from?” Veronica asked.
“She said she was born and raised in Denver. There aren’t any recording studios there, so she hopped a bus to California. I know it’s tough to make it in Hollywood, but I have a feeling about this girl, Ronnie. She’s got star quality. I could see that the first time I met her, even though she was a wreck,” Tessa said.
“How did you meet her?”
“I was walking my brother’s dog in the park early last Sunday. We went on a back trail and suddenly Roscoe took off into the bushes. When I went to get him, I found a clearing, and Kelly was sitting there in high heels and evening clothes. When Roscoe licked her face, she threw her arms around his neck and started bawling. She was in bad shape.”
“And she just blurted out to you that she’d been raped?” Veronica looked skeptical.
“Of course not. I sat down with her and we talked for a while. Roscoe is a great icebreaker, you know. One hundred pounds of pure Labrador therapy at work.”
“Roscoe is an oaf,” Ronnie said with a smile. On their first meeting he had taken her down and licked her face clean of makeup in five seconds flat.
“He really likes your moisturizer, what can I say? Anyway, after an hour or so of chitchat, I asked Kelly what she was doing crying in the park. She said she’d had a bad date, but I could see in her eyes it was more than that. She looked like a wounded animal. Her posture, body language—everything was screaming out that this girl had gone through something horrible.”
Veronica had worked with numerous victims of sex crimes in her job with the LAPD, so she understood well the nonverbal clues Tessa had picked up. “Did she finally admit what had happened?”
“Yes. She said she went out on a date with this hotshot quarterback and after dinner he brought her to his house. He then gave her a drink, sat down on the couch next to her, and started making his moves. She was okay with it for a while, but when she asked him to stop he ignored her.”
Veronica winced, knowing what was coming next.
“Kelly said she was sure he would stop if she kept asking. He didn’t. She said she began crying and fighting, but it didn’t even slow him down. She’s a tiny little thing,” Tessa said as she crumpled her napkin in her fist.
“I’m sorry. It sounds like a classic date-rape situation.”
“That’s what I told her. She was shocked—she didn’t even know there was a name for this type of attack, let alone that it happens to young women all too often. She asked how I knew about stuff like that.”
“And you told her you were a prosecutor with the D.A.’s Office?”
Tessa nodded. “When she found out, she just about bolted. She said she didn’t want to cause any trouble, she just wanted to go home. I convinced her this was a serious crime and that she had to report it, or it might happen to another girl. She said no one would believe her because of the guy who was involved.”
“Who is he?”
“He’s the quarterback for the LA Waves,” Tessa said, naming one of Los Angeles’s two professional football teams.
Veronica coughed as she inhaled her iced tea. “Holy shit! Sledge Aiken? He’s the man Kelly is accusing of raping her?”
Tessa nodded, cynically watching the expression on her friend’s face change to one of utter disbelief. She’d seen the same thing happen with the first officers in charge of investigating Kelly’s allegations of rape.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Veronica said, wiping tea off her blouse. “You have to admit it’s a tough sell. Sledge Aiken is the single hottest commodity in sports right now—he probably has to beat women off with a stick.”
“You know rape isn’t a crime of sex. It’s about power,” Tessa insisted.
“Yes, it is. But I also know that in order to prosecute, you have to make a convincing argument of why the crime was committed. That’s going to be very difficult with a celebrity of Aiken’s stature.”
Tessa looked stubbornly at her plate. “I can do it.”
“I’m not doubting your abilities as a prosecutor. I’m just saying that now I understand why the other officers involved have been proceeding cautiously. And to be honest, Ed and I will have to continue in the same vein.”
Tessa rubbed her forehead. “I know. But it’s so frustrating to watch the police tiptoe around this case just because the accused rapist happens to make his living running around throwing a ball to grown men in tight pants.”
Veronica cleared her throat and went back to the important details of the case. “What kind of physical evidence do we have so far?”
Trust Ronnie to go right to the weakest part of the case, Tessa thought.
“Not much, I’m afraid,” Tessa said. “I need to get copies of the file for you, but Kelly said Aiken used a condom. I was able to talk her into having a medical exam at the hospital, but they didn’t get much with the rape kit. Some bruising on her thighs, slight vaginal tearing, a few stray hairs.”
“So basically there’s proof of sexual contact, but not rape?” Ronnie aske
d.
“Yes. I didn’t mention that to Kelly. I’m trying to be positive, because she needs to know we believe her and are going to help her. Especially since even the nurse was treating her like a criminal.”
“Usually they have a little more tact than that.”
“It wasn’t the nurse’s fault,” Tessa admitted. “There was one strange thing that even I have been questioning.”
“What?”
“During the exam, an admissions nurse pulled me aside. She wanted to show me something that had fallen out of Kelly’s purse.”
“Drugs?” Veronica asked.
“No. It was an envelope that wasn’t sealed, so when it hit the ground the contents went flying. There were half a dozen credit cards and a wad of cash inside,” Tessa said.
“Kelly’s cards?”
“No, that’s the weird thing. They all belonged to different men, according to the names on them.”
“Geez, Tessa. Sounds like she’s involved in some kind of scam.”
“I know it looks bad. I made a photocopy of all the cards, then returned the envelope to Kelly’s purse. I asked her about the credit cards, but she had no idea what I was talking about. She said the money was for a deposit.”
Veronica was silent as she stirred another packet of sugar-free sweetener into her tea.
“I know what you’re thinking, Ronnie. But I’m pretty good at reading people. Kelly was genuinely surprised about the credit cards in her bag.”
Veronica frowned. “So what’s her story then?”
“She said the restaurant she works at gave her the envelope to give to her cousin, the one she’s staying with. She had no idea of what was inside the envelope, but thought about it and came up with an explanation. Apparently her cousin had some friends in a private room at the restaurant, and they must have left the cards that night. The cash is part of the regular deposit.”
“I suppose that could be a logical explanation. But until you investigate further I’d reserve judgment.”
ColorofDeath Page 36
