Summer Rain (Lightning Strikes Book 3)

by Barbara Freethy

"He's going to be there, isn't he?"

  "Possibly."

  "Who else? Congressman Parker?"

  "I don't know. It's a big gala. There will be a mix of politicians, press, and lobbyists as well as staffers like me. It's also a fundraiser for public schools in DC, so not just a party."

  "You have to get me in, Dani."

  "I thought you said you weren't going to ask me for any more favors."

  "One last favor, and you don't have to take me; you just have to get me a ticket."

  "I don't know if I can."

  "Will you try?"

  He was a really hard man to say no to, especially when he looked at her with such an earnest plea in his eyes. "I'll see if there's an extra ticket, but if you go, you cannot talk to me."

  "I can make my own way as long as you get me in the door. You won't regret it."

  "I'm already regretting it. If Erica or the senator were to find out that I helped you ambush him—"

  "I'm not going to attack him, Dani; I'll just say a friendly hello. I'll charm him, make him realize I'm no threat to his political ambitions."

  "But you are a threat. And I didn't need Joe to remind me of that." She sighed. "What am I doing?"

  "You're not doing anything. You're just helping a friend."

  "Are we friends?"

  "I'd like to think so. You did save my life. In some cultures, that makes you responsible for it."

  "I've never understood that saying. It seems like once I saved you my responsibility should be over. If anything, you should be watching out for me."

  He smiled. "We'll watch out for each other."

  Rico Montalvo stopped by the table. A Hispanic man of medium height, Rico was an attractive forty-something-year-old man with jet-black hair and dark eyes, eyes that were already a little suspicious.

  "Hello. Can I help you? Is there something wrong?" he asked.

  "Not at all," Patrick replied. "We were wondering if we might speak to you for a moment. Joe Gelbman gave us your name."

  Patrick's words did little to ease the tension in Montalvo's eyes.

  "It will just take a minute," Dani put in, giving him a reassuring smile.

  "I'm not in politics anymore," Rico said, as he sat down at the table. "And if Joe sent you, then it has to be about that."

  "My name is Patrick Kane. Jackie Kane was my mother. This is my friend, Dani Monroe."

  Dani was happy that Patrick had left off the fact that she worked for Senator Dillon.

  "You were Senator Stuart's press secretary when he died," Patrick continued.

  "I was," Rico said, not elaborating.

  "Was the senator having an affair with my mother?" Patrick said bluntly.

  Rico's eyes widened. "No, of course not."

  "Are you sure? Because I've heard some rumors."

  "They were close friends. But as far as I know, that's all they were."

  "I've heard that in the weeks before their deaths, they were working on something big, that they shared a lot of late nights. Do you know what that was about?"

  "Why are you asking these questions now? It's been eight years since they died," he countered. "Why not let them both rest in peace?"

  "Because I need an answer and the fact that it was so long ago should make it easier for you to give me one," Patrick said. "I want to know if my mother and your old boss were working on something that might have put them in danger. I'm not getting very far with the elected officials who are currently in office, but as you said, you don't work in politics anymore, and I'm hoping that you'll understand the need of a son to find out what happened to his mother and try to help me."

  Rico stared back at him for a long minute. Then he looked over his shoulder, checking the vicinity of the nearby tables and the diners at those tables. Finally, he turned his attention back to them. "They were having a lot of late-night meetings in the two weeks prior to the crash. I know that on at least one of those occasions they met with a reporter from the Washington Tribune—Ann Higgins."

  Dani sat up straighter in her chair at that piece of information. Was it possible they were actually getting somewhere?

  "What were they talking to her about?" Patrick demanded.

  "I don't know. The senator was cagey when I asked him about it. I was the one who dealt with the press, so it was odd that they were leaving me on the sidelines when they were talking to a reporter—a reporter who wasn't always that kind to our party, either. I thought it was strange."

  "Did you speak to Ann Higgins about it?" Dani asked.

  "I tried. After one of my press conferences, I asked her to wait. But she evaded my questions and referred me back to my boss."

  "Did you tell that to the FBI when they investigated the crash?" Patrick enquired.

  "I did. I also asked Craig Haller if he knew why the senator had met with Ann Higgins. He said he didn't know anything about the meeting and seemed as surprised as I was that the senator was meeting with a reporter without keeping us in the loop. You should talk to Haller about all this. He would have a lot more information than I do."

  "He's not returning my calls," Patrick said tightly.

  Montalvo nodded. "That doesn't surprise me. He wouldn't want anything to come out now that he should have dealt with before. Can I ask you why you're looking into all this now? Is it just because of some rumors about a relationship between them? Because that seems like something that should be left alone. Or are you thinking that the crash wasn't an accident?"

  "I'm considering all the options," Patrick said. "How did you find out about the crash?"

  "I got a call from Haller in the middle of the night. We were both in DC. The senator had taken a late evening plane back to Corpus Christi. It was an unexpected trip."

  "How so?" Dani asked, jumping on what she thought might be a new clue.

  "It wasn't on his schedule. He told Haller he had some work to do with Jackie, and she wanted him to go back to Texas with her for a few days. He told Haller he'd fill him in when he got back." He let out a breath. "Senator Stuart was a good man. His death devastated all of the staff. He was very well-loved and well-respected, as was your mother. The two of them were becoming forces to be reckoned with in their respected areas of government."

  "Why did you leave politics?" Dani asked, genuinely curious. Montalvo had risen to a prized job, one a lot of people would love to have.

  "I worked for another senator for a while, but I didn't like his level of integrity. It was time for me to get away from the podium. I'd always wanted to open my own restaurant. It seemed like the right time. I've never looked back. I am sorry about your mother, Mr. Kane. But I don't know that you'll ever be able to find out what happened to her, if it wasn't an accident. The tracks would be covered by now. It's been a long time."

  "Maybe long enough for someone to let down their guard, or feel more free to talk," Patrick said.

  "Perhaps. I need to get back to the kitchen." He stood up, then hesitated. "The time the senator met with your mother and Ann Higgins, he used an odd word—some kind of code, I think—hummingbird. I don't know what it meant, but if you find Ann, she might be able to tell you. Or, you can try to corner Haller."

  "Thanks for your help," Dani said, as Rico left the table.

  Patrick pulled out his phone, his fingers flying as he obviously did a search for Ann Higgins. "Ann is not at the Tribune anymore," he said a moment later. "She runs an online political magazine—Beltway Beat."

  "In DC?"

  He nodded. "Not far from the Capitol. I need to talk to her."

  "I can see why you would want to, Patrick, but can I just say that if this reporter was working on something with your mother and Senator Stuart, and they died tragically and maybe mysteriously, wouldn't she have followed up? Wouldn't she have taken what she knew and gone to the Feds? Wouldn't she have wanted the exclusive story that only she could deliver?"

  Patrick's lips tightened. "All good questions that I will definitely ask her."

  She was happy
that his search was veering away from her boss.

  "Do you know Craig Haller?"

  "Only by reputation. I've never met him." She sat back as the waiter set down a platter of amazing-looking tacos in front of her. "Oh, wow. These look delicious."

  "So good I'm going to have to put down my phone," he agreed. As he reached for a shrimp taco, he added, "I hope you can keep up with me."

  "I can. I was the middle child, remember? I learned early on not to wait for someone to share with me. But you wouldn't know about that. The only child gets everything he wants," she teased. "That's probably why you can't believe it when people don't want to talk to you."

  He laughed. "Maybe. I don't get everything, but the things I really want, Dani, I usually do get."

  His gaze rested on her face for so long, her lips tingled, and she hastily put the taco in her mouth. Otherwise, she might have done something stupid, like lean across the table and kiss him.

  She was pretty good at getting what she wanted, too.

  * * *

  "I'm stuffed," Dani announced as she got into the car and fastened her seat belt.

  "You should be. You beat me by a taco," Patrick said.

  "They were good, and I was hungry. I think that's my new favorite taco place. It's probably a good thing it's across the river, or I'd go more often."

  "It was good. I don't usually think I can get great tacos outside of Texas, but I was proven wrong tonight."

  She settled back in her seat as Patrick drove them back to the city, the lights of DC thrilling her a little, as they always did. Maybe one day she'd get tired of the city crush, the political maneuvering, the long hours, the not-so-great pay, and even the sometimes nasty lobbying and spin, but she was still green enough to want to see if she could work her way through it all and find a way to the top.

  She yawned, feeling sleepy after the food and all the tension of the last few days. "I feel relaxed," she murmured.

  Patrick didn't say anything, and when she glanced over at him, she did not see any sign of relaxation on his sharpened profile. His gaze darted from the rearview mirror to the sideview mirror and back again.

  "What's going on?" she asked.

  "Probably nothing."

  "What does that mean?"

  "There's a car behind us. It's been there since we left the restaurant."

  "It's just going in the same direction. This is a popular route."

  "Yeah, maybe." He changed lanes, then checked again.

  She looked in the mirror on her side of the car. All she could see were lights. "Which car is it?"

  "It's a silver SUV."

  "That doesn't sound like a law enforcement car."

  "Oh, I wouldn't think it was law enforcement."

  Her nerves tightened as Patrick sped up, switched lanes, then took a quick exit, merging into the more crowded city streets. "Is it still there?"

  "Four cars back."

  Her pulse began to race. "Can you lose it?"

  "I'm going to give it a shot."

  He pressed the gas once again, darting in and out of traffic, turning down an alley and then across another street and into a crowded parking lot. He turned off the lights, keeping the engine on.

  "Is stopping a good idea?" she asked nervously.

  "I think I lost the car, but I want to make sure."

  "If they come up behind us, we'll be trapped."

  "I can see the only entrance to the lot from here. If they turn in, we'll move."

  For several long minutes, they sat in tense, dark silence. Every time a car came near the entrance, her heart skipped a beat, but there was no sign of the SUV.

  "I think we're okay," Patrick said a few minutes later.

  "Are you sure?"

  He nodded, putting his hand over hers. It was then she realized she'd been twisting her great-grandmother's ring around and around on her finger.

  "I'm sure," he said. "I might have imagined the whole thing."

  "You don't believe that, Patrick."

  "I don't know what I believe." His fingers tightened around hers. "I shouldn't have involved you in this, Dani. I'll take you home now."

  "We should give it a little more time, just in case."

  "All right."

  She drew in a deep breath and let it out. "I don't know why I feel so—scared. It was probably a soccer mom driving her kids back from a game in Alexandria."

  "Could have been."

  "Or it could have been someone watching us." She remembered Joe's parting words—in DC, you never know who's watching or who's listening. "Did you notice any cars following us back from Joe's house?"

  "I didn't. Not on the way there or the way back. I actually looked a few times."

  She wished she'd been as alert and wary as Patrick had been. She'd never considered that someone might follow them anywhere. "So why would they pick us up at the taco place?" she asked. "How would anyone know we were there?"

  She didn't like the answer she saw in his eyes. "Not Joe. He wouldn't have told anyone."

  "He's the only one who knew where we were going."

  "He could have sent us anywhere, but he sent us to someone who gave us new information. He's trying to help. I know him, Patrick. He can be trusted."

  "I have a hard time trusting anyone." He paused, his gaze clinging to hers. "But I do trust you, Dani. And I hope you can trust me."

  She didn't know if she could trust Patrick. She had a lot of mixed emotions when it came to him. In her heart, she thought he was a good guy, but there was a lot about him she didn't know. Like how ruthless he could be in pursuit of the truth. How could she trust someone who might destroy her career?

  Patrick's phone buzzed, and he released her hand to answer it. "It's the Corpus Christi Police Department."

  Now she had another reason to be nervous.

  "Hello?" Patrick asked as he put the phone on speaker.

  "This is Detective Hobbs. I have some information for you. A gas station security camera half a mile from the park where you were attacked picked up a man wearing similar clothes to those you described. Unfortunately, that man was located behind the gas station with a needle in his arm. He overdosed, and he's dead."

  Dani was shocked, and she could see Patrick's face pale.

  "Are you sure it's the same guy?" Patrick asked.

  "I believe it is."

  "When did it happen?"

  "We don't have an exact time of death, but it appears that it occurred several hours after your attack. We're still trying to identify him. I'll be in touch when we know more."

  "All right. Thanks." Patrick blew out a breath as he ended the call. "What do you think about that?"

  Her pulse was racing. "It's not good. Do you think it was suicide?"

  "It sounds like it. Or someone wanted it to look that way."

  "I thought I'd feel better if they found the guy," Dani said, meeting his gaze. "But I don't. Even though he's dead, it feels…strange. Like his death creates more questions than it answers."

  Agreement showed in his eyes. "I feel exactly the same way."

  She wrapped her arms around her chest, feeling suddenly cold. "I wish we knew who he was. I don't understand why someone attacked you. Why this guy was killed. Why we might have been followed. It doesn't make sense."

  "There is one other person who knew where we were tonight," Patrick said, as he started the car.

  "Who?"

  "Rico Montalvo."

  "But he gave us a lead."

  "Doesn't mean he didn't tip someone else off."

  "Or there was no one actually following us," she said, wishing she could believe that, but she couldn't.

  Eight

  Patrick watched the road closely on his way back to Dani's apartment building. His mind was racing a mile a minute, jumping from what Detective Hobbs had told him about his assailant, to the car he'd seen following them, to the mention of a reporter who might be able to tell them what his mom was working on. He wanted to follow up on every singl
e thing, but it was almost ten o'clock at night, and first and foremost, he wanted to get Dani home safe.

  He parked his car down the block from her apartment building, insisting on walking her upstairs. She didn't argue, so he knew she was a little spooked by the night's events.

  After she let him into her apartment, he did a quick check of the bedroom, bathroom, and closets before going back into the living room. "I think I should stay on your couch tonight," he said.

  She immediately shook her head. "No, I'll be fine on my own."

  "You're shaken up."

  "A little," she admitted, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "But I live in a security building—"

  "It's not that secure. You know how people are in buildings like this; they'll ring people in without knowing who they are."

  "Not usually. The tenants are pretty good, and I have a dead bolt on my door. Besides, I have a feeling I'm in more danger when I'm with you."

  "That might be true," he said heavily. "So that gala that's happening tomorrow night. Can you still try to get me a ticket? It occurs to me that Craig Haller might be there as well as Senator Dillon."

  "I can try."

  "I appreciate it."

  She stared at him, her green eyes troubled. "I've been thinking about your attacker and the way he died. It doesn't feel like a suicide."

  "No, it doesn't."

  "Did you tell Detective Hobbs that you're investigating your mother's death?"

  "No. Sunday night, I was in shock, and since then I've debated whether or not to bring it up, but I haven't come to a conclusion. If the police can ID the man, maybe that will help me understand whether he's tied into any of this or not."

  "Okay. I guess we'll just wait and see what the police come up with."

  "Or what we—make that I—can come up with on my own."

  "Are you going to get in touch with Ann Higgins?"

  "I'm going to try. Maybe she'll be at the gala tomorrow night, too."

  "It will get a lot of press. If I can get you a ticket, I'll call you tomorrow."

  "Are you sure you won't feel better if I stay tonight, Dani? I hope you know you can trust me."

  She hesitated for a split second, and then shook her head. "I'll be fine."