by Dee Davis
“And arrogant,” Riley added, unable to stop herself.
Carter nodded, crossing to the drinks table for a refill. “That seems to go with the territory. Reporters are an arrogant lot by nature. They have to be to spend all their time sitting in judgment of other people.”
“Well, if you ask me, the press in this country has gone too far.” Leon’s tone was condemning. “They have no sense of decency. And frankly, if the story will sell papers or bring in ratings, I don’t think they give a good goddamn about how much truth is involved.”
“I can’t argue with that,” Carter added. “Truth is an irrelevant commodity in today’s hyped-up world, and the press is leading the debaucherous parade.”
“Well, then it’s all the more important that we get Daddy elected.” Riley smiled at the two of them—her family, such that it was. “Maybe he’ll be able to stop some of it.”
“Stop some of what?” Maudeen Drake stood in the doorway looking coolly elegant in a black silk dress.
“The press’s rush to misinform,” Carter said. Riley watched as her father crossed to the older woman, holding out both hands. “You look beautiful as always.”
“Thank you, Carter.” Maudeen’s smile was luminous.
Riley bit back a comment. It wouldn’t do to start a fight. Besides, part of her was ashamed of her animosity. Her father deserved someone in his life. She watched as they settled side by side on the sofa, and wondered for the millionth time how different things would have been if her mother and sister were alive.
“We were just telling Riley that she should beware of Jake Mahoney and his ilk.”
“Daddy and Leon think he’s going to eat me alive.”
“Nonsense.” The older woman smiled. “You’ve been handling reporters since you were little.”
An image of mocking blue-black eyes begged to differ. Riley blinked, clearing her head. “Of course I have,” she answered, with more conviction than she felt.
“Well, I think it best for everyone if you stay away from Mr. Mahoney.” Her father leaned forward, his eyes intense. “If nothing else, he seems to invite trouble.”
“Daddy, I’ve only talked to the man two times. You’re overreacting.”
“Maybe so, but we’re awfully close to winning this thing. And I don’t want anything to upset the apple cart.”
“Fine. It’s not likely I’ll see him again anyway.” Leon and Carter exchanged a look, and Riley was immediately suspicious. “I don’t need you to go fighting my battles for me.” Leon opened his mouth to answer, but Riley held up a hand. “I mean it, Leon. I’m a grown woman and a seasoned political veteran. You’ve got to stop handling things for me, and let me take care of myself.”
“It’s only that we love you.” Leon’s tone was sincere, but Riley had her doubts. Leon loved her, all right, but she knew he loved winning more. Fortunately, they played for the same team.
“I know that. And I’m grateful that you want to watch out for me. But Jake Mahoney isn’t a risk. There’s nothing he can do that will hurt me or endanger this campaign.”
Well, there was some truth in that.
Sort of.
Jake Mahoney had the potential to do lots of things to her, but they had nothing to do with her father or the campaign.
Chapter 5
“YOU’RE GOING TO clog the few arteries you have left.” Jake sipped his beer, watching his friend pour extra gravy on his chicken fried steak. It was past dinnertime at the OK Café, but the place was still hopping.
David Mackenna stabbed a forkful. “If it’s worth eating, it’s worth eating right.”
“I’m not sure your doctor would agree.” Jake grinned, then sobered. “I suppose it’s too soon to have any news on the bomber.”
“It hasn’t even been twelve hours. I’m good, but not a miracle worker.”
“I know.” Jake ran a hand through his hair. “I’m just frustrated. The world seems to be falling apart and I can’t explain it.”
“You’re talking about more than the bombing, I take it?”
“Yeah. Michaels. His death has got to be tied to what Larsen found, but I’ll be damned if I know how. Nothing Larsen told me can be substantiated. It’s innuendo at best. And Michaels’s death is just another damn door closing.” He slammed a hand down on the table, then blew out a long breath. “God, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Maybe I am a cynic.”
David raised an eyebrow. “Been doing some soul searching lately?”
Jake shook his head. “More like I’ve been searched. Riley O’Brien practically accused me of manipulating tragedy for a story.”
“Well, there’s probably a little truth in what she says.” Jake opened his mouth to retort, but David held up a hand. “But you’re a reporter. Taking the facts and turning them into a story is what you do. If that means playing off of tragedy, then so be it.”
Jake suppressed a smile. “Now you sound like the cynic.”
“Well, in my line of work, it’s hard not to be.” David lifted his glass in a mock toast. “So I guess that makes us two of a kind.”
“And one of us without any answers. I tried to talk to some of the chief’s buddies this afternoon, but no one had anything helpful to say. In fact, truth be told, some of them were downright hostile.”
David shrugged. “Law enforcement is a private club, especially when something like this happens. I’ll see what I can find out.”
“Thanks. Maybe there’ll be something there. All I got was the party line. To hear them tell it, the man had a perfect life. Nothing at all that would suggest thoughts of suicide. Which doesn’t change the fact that he’s dead. Tomorrow I’m going to talk to the M.E.”
“You’re thinking Michaels was murdered?” David buttered a piece of corn bread.
“It seems within the realm of possibility. Not that it changes anything. Suicide or murder, the truth is, I don’t know for certain that Michaels’s death is related to any of this. To hear Larsen tell it, I wouldn’t have thought his information was that damning, but now I’m not so certain.” Jake sat back, draining the last of his beer. “You still investigating the fire?”
“Unofficially. Something about it just doesn’t feel right, and I won’t rest easy until I have the full picture.” David pushed back his plate. “But I’ve got to say, odds are the whole thing was exactly what it appears to be.”
“An accident.” Jake sighed. “Which leaves me back at square one.”
“Larsen.”
“Exactly. And the first thing I’ve got to do is try and figure out what the hell it was he found. He was working on six cases when he died, so maybe it was through one of them that he stumbled on the information about Michaels. Hopefully by tracing his steps, I’ll be able to put it all together.”
“Sounds pretty impossible to me.”
“Well, for a start I’ve got an appointment day after tomorrow with a guy I know at the D.A.’s office. I need to get a look at Larsen’s files. And there’s the little matter of his girlfriend. Seems she headed for the islands almost before Larsen’s body was cold. She’s due in tomorrow, and I’m hoping maybe her hasty departure has something to do with what she knows.” He stopped, staring into his beer glass, frustration cutting through him with the precision of a butcher’s knife.
“What about the bombing?” David sat back, his gaze appraising.
“I honestly don’t think it’s related, but I guess I can’t afford to rule it out without at least checking on the possibility. Maybe Riley O’Brien knows more than she’s telling.”
David frowned. “You don’t seriously think she’s involved in any of this?”
“She was present at the bombing and then at Michaels’s house. It bears examination, at least. Bottom line is, I can’t know anything for certain until I talk to her, and to do that I’ve got to find a way to get the woman to open up to me.”
David took a sip of his beer, eyeing Jake over the rim of the glass. “Then I’d say you have your work cut out
for you.”
“She isn’t an easy person to talk to,” Jake agreed. Riley O’Brien was more prickly than a porcupine with a dog on its ass.
David laughed. “I was referring to your less than stellar record with women.”
“Hey, Lacey screwed me, not the other way around. And as far as Riley O’Brien is concerned, she’s a potential source of information, nothing more.”
“Right.” David leaned back, crossing his arms, the smug look on his face making Jake want to punch him. The man didn’t miss much.
“Look, I’m telling you, any interest I have in her is purely job related. She was present at the bombing and she was at Michaels’s.”
David’s smile grew to a full-fledged grin. “I still think your interest goes beyond professional.”
“Think what you want. But I guarantee you’re on the wrong track. I’ve been there and done that. I was married to the empress of ice, remember?”
“And you think Riley is made of the same stuff?”
“I know it. Pure ice.” And fire. Sweet, sweet fire. Jake fought the image his mind was conjuring. An image of Riley lying on his bed, hair flowing around her, eyes wide with passion.
“I don’t know, there are worse ways to go.” David had been reading his mind for years. It was a habit that made him very good at what he did, but rather annoying as a friend.
“Look, I’m not taking that kind of chance. I’ve got no desire to repeat my mistakes.”
“Sounds to me like the woman got to you, ice queen or no.”
He pictured silvery eyes, and his hand clenched as he thought about the soft gold of her hair. Silver and gold. All the riches a man could possibly want. He shook his head, banishing his ridiculous thoughts.
“No way. The woman’s untouchable. I couldn’t reach her even if I wanted to—and I’m telling you, I don’t.”
“Fine. I get it. Your interest in her is only related to your story.”
“Exactly.”
“So follow your gut then and find the story.” The right side of David’s mouth quivered, jerking upward into a half smile. “And who knows, maybe somewhere along the way you’ll figure out how to rescue the princess.”
“Christ. It’s midnight.” Carter O’Brien rolled onto his back, oblivious to the fact that he pulled the covers with him.
Maudeen Drake sighed, and pulled the sheet firmly back to her side of the bed. For a woman who’d spent the last two hours in the arms of the man she loved, she felt oddly empty. Depleted in a soul-deep kind of way. “I didn’t know you were watching the clock.” The words came out on a pleading note, and she hated herself for it.
Carter sat up and shot her one of his megawatt smiles. A smile designed to win over an electorate. “Come on, darlin’, you know that I’m not. It’s just that I’ve got an early meeting in the morning.” It was his way of telling her to go home. Maudeen fought against her resentment. “You shouldn’t have stayed this long.”
“No one cares that I’m here, Carter. Leon and Adelaide have gone home, and Riley isn’t a little girl anymore. She’s a woman now, well able to accept the fact that we’re together.”
“It’s not that.” He caught sight of himself in the mirror, brushing his hair back with careful fingers. “She’s had quite an ordeal. I should be there for her.”
“She’s asleep, Carter.” Maudeen swallowed her exasperation, pasting on what she hoped was a pleasant smile. “But if you think it best, I’ll go home.”
Again she had a fleeting moment of melancholy. She’d been with Carter for years. Loved him most of them. Slept with him for at least half of them. And yet, in some ways they were no closer than when he’d hired her thirty years ago.
“That’s my girl.” Carter patted the sheets absently. “I knew you’d understand.”
She didn’t, but now wasn’t the time to press the point. She pulled on her clothes, heedless of whether she was doing buttons right or wrong.
Oblivious of her distress, Carter propped himself up against the pillows. “First thing in the morning, I want to have a word with the security folks.”
She slid the zipper of her skirt closed. “I thought you’d refused an escort.” Since winning the primary, Carter had had the option of Secret Service protection, and, at least until now, he’d summarily dismissed the idea, valuing privacy over security at all costs.
“I did.” The sheet dropped as he shifted, and she sucked in a breath, as always, awed by the sheer physical power of him. He wasn’t a big man in the traditional sense, but he was solidly built. No middle-age spread. Middle age. Who was she kidding? They’d both seen middle age a long time ago. “But after last night’s scare, I think it’s worth revisiting the issue. At least when we’re away from Rivercrest.” He shrugged, sighing.
She reached for his brush. “So you’re telling me from now on we’re going to have Secret Service men following us?”
“Just Riley and I.” He smiled, his grin almost impish. “And not for a few more days. I think we deserve a swan song.” There was more to his words than Secret Service. Maudeen fought against a shiver.
She pulled the brush through her hair. “A swan song.” She tried but failed to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. She loved Carter O’Brien. Loved him with everything that she was, but she wished that there were a way to separate the politician from the man.
She smiled at her own foolishness, knowing full well that the politician was the man.
“Ah, come now, Maudeen.” He reached over to pat her, his smile contagious. “Everything I do has to be for the good of the campaign.”
“You’re preaching to the choir, Carter.” She tried for a smile but missed.
“In just a few more months it’ll all be over, and I’ll be standing at the podium taking the oath of office.” He wasn’t even listening to her.
She leaned over, placing her hands on his shoulders. “You’ll need somebody by your side.”
“I’ve got Riley.” He pulled away—distancing himself. “You know that’s the way of it. You’ve known it from the beginning.”
And so she had. Still, there were days when the subterfuge of it all got to her. Days when she just wanted for them to be a normal couple. When she wanted to shout to the world that she loved him, and that he loved her.
But that was a pipe dream. Stuff and nonsense. She swallowed her bitter thoughts. Unless something dramatically changed, it was obvious they were on the fast road to nowhere. And she, for one, wasn’t about to sit by and watch Carter’s rise to power destroy their relationship. She’d given Carter her best years. Riley wasn’t the only one who deserved to stand at that podium.
Carter leaned over to kiss her, his lips starting fires deep inside her. She reached up to pull him closer, but with a lithe twist he was free, swinging up out of the bed. “You’re talking to the NBC folks tomorrow, right?”
He disappeared into the bathroom without waiting for an answer, his voice rumbling through the doorway, sounding strangely disembodied. “Make certain Leon is aware of the agreement. I wouldn’t want any problems with our favoring one network over the other. And will you help me to remind Bill to make sure Senator Hutchinson gets the flowers we talked about? She came through for us when we needed it. And I’ll not have her thinking I’ve forgotten.” He appeared in the doorway, his thoughts already centered on tomorrow.
Her lover was gone, consumed by Carter O’Brien, presidential candidate.
And, God, how she hated the candidate.
It was dark. Deep, impenetrable black. And cold. Icy cold. Riley shuddered and tightened her arms around Mr. McKafferty, the little bear offering comfort, his ragged fur and tattered bow a reminder of all things safe and good.
She wasn’t certain where exactly the little bear had come from. She hadn’t seen him in years, but just at the moment she was grateful to have him here with her. At least she wasn’t alone. She fought back a sob, her eyes frantically searching for even a glimmer of light.
Nothing. She might as
well be blind.
The wind whistled and moaned, stirring the soft hair around her cheeks, the sound almost human. A keening wail. Or a scream. It whipped at her nightgown, icy fingers trying to shred the cotton. She shivered again and tried to move forward, but her fear kept her bound in place, surrounded by wind and darkness.
She closed her eyes, and then slowly opened them, hoping against hope she would find herself safely in bed, away from the blackness—the wailing. But she knew it wasn’t possible.
She had been here before.
The pounding of her heart echoed in her ears, a strange counterpoint to the moaning of the wind. The fury of the storm increased, its presence reaching through the night, surrounding her with malevolence. She shivered and clutched the little bear tightly, eyes straining into the darkness.
“Caroline?” Her voice was lost in the sound of splintering glass.
She sucked in a breath and tried again. “Daddy?”
White light stabbed through the darkness, hurting her eyes with its brightness, and she took a hesitant step forward, knowing that light meant safety. Escape from the dark.
But something stopped her. Something deep inside. A newfound terror that was greater than anything she’d felt before. Time stood still as she focused on the bar of light that spilled into the dark corridor. She sucked in a breath, her fingers digging into Mr. McKafferty’s soft reassuring fur, and took another step, and another.
A clap of thunder split the night, and the light dimmed then brightened, white turning red. Deep crimson. The color of lipstick. The color of blood. The light reached for her, oozing forward, more frightening than the dark had ever been. She stood frozen, unable to run, waiting for the light to find her, to destroy her.
Clutching the bear, she summoned the last of her strength, and opened her mouth to scream. . . .
“Riley, honey, wake up.” Maudeen sat on the side of the bed, reaching over to shake the sleeping woman, the gentle green glow of the clock casting pale illumination across the room.
Riley moaned, then slowly opened sleep-clouded eyes. “What happened?”
