But he’d barely been able to walk off the plane without crumpling and he’d popped one too many pills too close together. By the time they’d reached the amphitheater, he’d been high as a kite but he’d become a master at hiding how out of it he was.
He remembered breaking off to find a spot to chill for a minute and then he remembered the loud boom, shrapnel slicing into his cheek and a general sense of WTF flooding his panicked brain.
Scrambling to his feet, he met up with his team, told a flat-out lie as to where he’d been and then after the appropriate security protocols and follow up, Red Wolf had packed up and returned to headquarters.
He’d mistakenly thought his guilt had been the only thing he was going to have to deal with.
Nope.
Being framed and set up had been a nice cherry on top of a shit sundae.
Speaking of a shit sundae...
The kid returned, pulling a baggie with the meds from his grimy pocket. Xander did a quick look to check for the pharmaceutical stamp on the pills and then gave the kid the cash. “Thanks,” he muttered, stashing the drugs in his jacket pocket, ready to bolt. But before he returned to his car, he said to the kid, “I know you won’t take my advice but get out of this lifestyle, man. This road leads to one place and it ain’t good.”
“Coming from a junkie like you, I’ll really take that advice to heart,” the kid quipped with a sardonic grin. When Xander narrowed his gaze, the kid added with a shrug, “Just keepin’ it real, dawg.”
Xander backed away, shaking his head. What the hell was he doing giving advice? No one should ever listen to advice from him.
All he was good at was blowing shit up, ruining lives and making bad choices.
Chapter 13
Scarlett was a terrible liar so she decided to forgo any deep subterfuge when she walked into Williams’s office.
She was going to come at him from the Red Wolf angle because she had a vested interest in discovering what had happened that day with McQuarry.
A sharply dressed secretary led Scarlett into Senator Williams’s office. She’d been in many politician’s offices and they all seemed to use the same decorator. The room was awash in navy blues and burgundy—basically, strong manly colors, no matter their gender.
Williams, an older man in good shape, gestured from his executive chair. “Please, come in. Pleasure to meet you. I wish it was under different circumstances,” he said, extending a hand.
Scarlett indulged in a brief handshake. “Thanks for meeting with me. I really appreciate the time you’re taking out of your busy schedule. I just want to come out and say that Red Wolf is beyond embarrassed that something of this magnitude happened on our watch.”
Williams waved off her apology. “No need to take that on. Sometimes you can’t account for every detail. Who knew that one of your own was so damaged.”
Scarlett chose to let that comment slide. “Can you walk me through some of the backstory between you and McQuarry? I feel that would be helpful in our investigation.”
Williams settled into his chair with an expectant expression. “What would you like to know?”
She drew a deep breath and decided to go for it. No time for polite dancing around the issue. “I’ve recently learned that you weren’t on board with the Wakefield deal McQuarry was brokering. I’m curious...why not?”
Williams took a moment to consider his answer, then said, “It’s no secret I was against the Wakefield deal. While on the surface bringing more industry into the state is good because it creates jobs and stimulates the economy, it is my belief we need to be smart about who we choose to do business with.”
“Of course,” she murmured in agreement. “And you didn’t feel Wakefield was a good investment?”
“May I be frank?”
“Please do.”
“I didn’t like the idea of doing business with a company with a long and sordid history of environmental sanctions. There’s a reason Wakefield picked up and left the United States for their industrial and manufacturing needs and I’ll just leave it at that. My constituents deserve more than a politician who is only looking at the bottom line. Quality of life is a major component in the health and happiness of voters.”
“Were you aware that McQuarry was going to profit from closing the Wakefield deal?”
Williams laughed. “Of course I knew. You and I both know that backdoor deals happen all the time with politics. I’m not going to be able to stop that and neither are you, but my opposition to Wakefield had nothing to do with McQuarry benefiting from the deal.”
“So you’re saying your only concern was for the environmental issues that Wakefield presented if they chose to set up shop in Oklahoma?”
“Of course.”
Scarlett wasn’t sure she bought that but so far Williams had done a very good job appearing earnest and sincere. However, the mark of a talented politician was being able to seamlessly hide their true colors without batting an eye.
“Is there anyone you can think of who would want to hurt McQuarry?”
“We all have enemies—enemies that we are aware of and enemies that we aren’t. I’m sure McQuarry had a few. However, I thought it was a pretty open-and-shut case that your man was the one who set the bomb so I’m not sure where these questions are going.”
“That’s certainly a theory but there are details that don’t add up. I know my team member better than anyone and it’s a hard pill to swallow that Xander Scott would’ve hurt civilians even if he had a beef against McQuarry, which he didn’t. He didn’t even know McQuarry until that day.”
Williams paused, tapping his finger lightly on the desktop. “Well, the evidence speaks for itself from what I hear.”
“And what evidence is that, exactly?” Scarlett asked, curious to know who was leaking information to Williams and for what purpose. “Would you care to share your source?”
Williams shook his head. “I don’t think that would be wise. But I have it on good authority that Xander Scott’s DNA was found on the plastic explosives that blew up the amphitheater. Hard to argue with science.”
“You’re right about that. Science is hard to refute, however, sometimes we have to look at motive as well. Xander literally had no reason to hurt McQuarry. However, McQuarry was near to closing a deal that would have put millions in his pocket simply for facilitating. You and Sheffton were quick to shut that deal down.”
“For reasons I’ve already disclosed,” Williams reminded her.
“Yes, but according to Clara McQuarry, in spite of your assurances, you were pretty angry when you weren’t included in the payout.”
She was playing with fire. She didn’t have time to softball these questions but she tried to seem less accusatory.
“I don’t mean to be offensive but my man’s life is on the line. If he’s guilty, I’ll be the first to bring him in. But if he’s not and someone else is trying to pin McQuarry’s murder on him, I’ll do whatever I have to to bring that son-of-a-bitch down.”
Williams shifted in his chair, visibly uncomfortable. “I’m not really sure what you’re implying.”
“I’m not implying anything. I’m asking, is McQuarry’s widow lying to me? And if she is, why? Clara McQuarry had no reason to want her husband dead because if her husband was getting that payout, she was, too. However, both you and Sheffton had reason to care if McQuarry was able to close the deal with Wakefield.”
Williams’s strained chuckle was a warning but she couldn’t back down now. “I have to tell you, I don’t appreciate your tone and I don’t appreciate the implication that I had anything to do with McQuarry’s death,” he said. “Yes, we were on opposite sides of the Wakefield issue but I didn’t want him dead. Wakefield was a bad deal. Plain and simple. It doesn’t take a genius to see that wherever Wakefield sets up shop, cancer rates skyrocket. It’s my job to look out for my
constituents, and that’s a job I take seriously. McQuarry’s dying was a tragedy, but axing the Wakefield deal was the right thing to do and I won’t apologize for it.”
Scarlett sensed a certain level of truth from Williams on that score. While it was certainly a good thing that Williams didn’t appear to be dirty, it put them back at the drawing board and that made the panic in her chest flutter a little bit more desperately.
“I apologize if I’ve offended you. I’m just trying to get to the bottom of this. My team member’s life depends on it.”
Williams seemed to understand. “I don’t begrudge you your attempts to clear your man’s name, but at the end of the day you have to look at cold hard facts. Xander Scott’s DNA was on the explosives. Unless you can find a reason why someone would want to frame him, sometimes if it walks and talks like a duck, it is a duck.”
She knew that, but she still wasn’t convinced that she was looking at a duck. Or was she? She didn’t know. Right now, everything was jumbled in her head. She’d already lost her objectivity—that was clear when she’d jumped on the plane and hadn’t put handcuffs on Xander as soon as she’d seen him. But just as her instincts were telling her that Xander was lying to her about something, they were also saying that Xander was innocent of McQuarry’s death.
“Just playing the devil’s advocate, let’s pretend for a second that Xander’s DNA hadn’t been found at the crime scene. Who in your estimation had a reason to see McQuarry die? And in such a public venue. Honestly, if somebody had wanted him dead, wouldn’t it have been easier and cleaner to just put a bullet in his head while he was sleeping?”
“Certainly. However doing it in a public venue drew attention—made a statement, wouldn’t you say?”
“And who would want to make that statement? McQuarry had to have pissed someone off big-time in order to compel someone to make that big of a statement.”
Williams nodded. “I can tell you it wasn’t me. I’m a lot of things but I’m not a murderer.”
“Why did McQuarry’s widow think you wanted a piece of the Wakefield pie?” she asked.
Williams sighed. “Clara is a nice lady but she has her own issues. Unlike McQuarry I don’t run around on my wife. My wife has been my partner and my rock since the day we married and I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that. Clara McQuarry made a pass at me and I tried to gently let her down but she didn’t take kindly to my rejection. She’s been on the warpath against me since then.”
Beware the wrath of a scorned woman. “So you’re saying that Clara threw you under the bus because she was miffed at being rejected?”
“Clara can be a petty woman,” Williams said. “I’m just thankful my wife never bought into the nonsense she was trying to spread around as fact.”
Another dead end. Scarlett resisted the urge to groan with despair. Why was every lead turning out to be crap? So far, all they’d discovered was that McQuarry was a self-serving, philandering asshole with a fluid sense of sexuality.
A fluid sense of sexuality... Scarlett straightened. “So you knew about McQuarry’s indiscretions?”
Williams cast a patronizing look her way. “Everyone knew about Ken’s wandering eye. He didn’t try to hide it very well.”
“He and Holbert were pretty open about their affair?”
“Not open, but not secret. Does that make sense?”
Not really, but that’s not what she was most interested in. “How about his other lover? His male lover. Did anyone know about that relationship?”
Williams didn’t want to answer. So it was clearly business as usual when McQuarry was banging the hot female intern but nobody wanted to talk about the man McQuarry was doing after hours, too.
“I know whoever it was, was presumably a high-ranking official. I just need a name.”
“That’s a tree you don’t want to bark up,” Williams warned, shaking his head. “Trust me when I say, even if that rumor was true, he didn’t kill McQuarry.”
Then why was everyone protecting him?
“I just need a name,” she repeated, an excited tingle starting in her stomach. “Please.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t do that. Besides, I’m sure it was all rumors and gossip and there’s no point in dragging a good man’s name through the mud when he’s no longer here to defend himself.”
“Were you and McQuarry friends?”
“No, but we weren’t enemies, either. Colleagues with a professional understanding. McQuarry was affable, charming and, ultimately, greedy but overall, a good man. Now if there aren’t any more questions....” Williams rose politely. “I have another appointment.”
The window of opportunity had closed. Williams wasn’t going to tell her anything more about McQuarry’s secret lover, even though he damn well knew whom it’d been.
Well, shit.
“Thank you for your time,” she murmured, letting herself out and quickly hailing a cab.
They needed to find the identity of McQuarry’s mystery lover—fast.
* * *
Sitting in his parked car, Xander closed his eyes, willing the meds to work fast. The familiar rush of euphoria followed by the drugging lethargy was a sweet hell that he couldn’t seem to stop craving.
The shame, the guilt, the anger—those emotions were in there, too—but the drug managed to dull the sharp edges long enough for a moment of relief.
What felt like minutes had actually turned into an hour and when Xander finally roused himself out of the stupor, he realized in a panic he’d been out for too long. He fumbled with his cell and saw three missed calls from Scarlett.
Shit. Starting the car, he eased out of the alley and hit the street, his heart hammering. He had nothing to go on. He’d spent too much time trying to score to chase down any leads on Wakefield like he’d promised Scarlett.
Sweat beaded his brow as he swore under his breath. At this point, Scarlett was doing all the heavy lifting and Xander felt like a worthless chump.
He reached for his cell but he hit a bump in the road and his cell bounced off the passenger seat and fell onto the floor.
Damn it.
He’d just have to wait to talk to Scarlett when he got back to the motel, but he hated that she’d called three times and he’d been out of his head.
Worry that something had gone wrong ate at him, but he knew Scarlett was a badass and could likely handle any contingency with extreme prejudice.
Hell, the woman could break a man’s hand in five places with one quick snap of her wrist... Yeah, she could handle herself.
He pulled into the motel parking lot and went quickly to their room. Scarlett looked up with a narrowed gaze as he entered. “I tried calling you three times,” she said flatly.
“Sorry, I was out roaming the streets,” he said, which was true. “I left my phone in the car.”
“Why would you do that?” she asked, irritated. “Not only is that irresponsible, it doesn’t make sense.”
“I thought I had my phone in my pocket but I didn’t. By the time I figured out that I’d left the phone in the car, I was blocks away. Are you going to grill me for being distracted, TL? Or are we going to talk about your meeting with Williams?”
Scarlett seemed to recognize the logic in his statement and grudgingly continued. “Williams is clean but he knows who McQuarry was sleeping with...and he’s not talking.”
What started out as a flicker of hope died a quick death. “Why wouldn’t he share?”
“I don’t know. It could be that he doesn’t want to believe that McQuarry was bisexual, or he’s protecting the man McQuarry was sleeping with. Either way, he’s not budging.”
“But you think Williams is clean?”
“Yeah,” she answered, her mouth tightening to a grim line. “As much as I wanted to have something else to go on... Williams was another dead end.”
“I’m getting pretty sick and tired of this bullshit,” he admitted. He sank down on the bed to yank his shoes off. “What the hell are we doing? We’re not investigators... We’re soldiers-for-hire. Maybe we don’t know how to ask the right questions. Hell, maybe I ought to just say screw it and turn myself in. I don’t want you getting caught in my mess.”
Scarlett frowned. “We’re not quitting. The answer is out there and we’ll find it. Besides, Conrad is an investigator and he’ll come through with something we can use.”
“The same man who is now charged with hunting me down? Yeah, I wouldn’t expect much more help from him unless it’s the gift of metal bracelets.”
“Connie will do what he can from his end,” Scarlett said. “But we need to keep the faith and do what we can on ours.”
“And what would that be?” he asked with a touch of sarcasm. “Because right now I don’t have much faith to spare. At some point, we’ll have to admit defeat. Whoever wanted McQuarry dead did their homework and we’re not likely to find a bread crumb.”
“Well, you came back a ray of sunshine, didn’t you?” Scarlett said with a hard scowl. “Get yourself together. I don’t have time for whiny-man bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit—it’s reality. We’ve got nothing.”
Scarlett fell silent. She couldn’t argue facts. Their leads had dried to nothing and they had zero chance of finding who McQuarry’s secret lover was before the FBI managed to lock on to their location and haul Xander in on trumped-up charges.
Orange had never been his color, but he supposed he’d better get used to the idea because the promise of a lengthy prison sentence was looming.
Xander yanked his shirt off and tossed it. “I need to shower,” he muttered, disappearing into the bathroom so he could get his head on straight.
Turning the water on, he stripped and climbed into the hot spray. The motel was a dump but the water pressure was surprisingly good. He stood under the pelting water for a long moment, letting it scald his skin. If only he could wash away the stain of his addiction, none of this would be happening.
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