by Diane Kelly
He winked back to let me know he got the implied message and that my secrets were safe with him. He stood and opened his arms. “It won’t the same around here without you and Britney.”
We exchanged a warm hug.
“Good luck with your classes,” I told him as I released him and stepped back. “And the girls,” I added in a whisper. I had no doubt he’d do well on both fronts.
He offered a roguish grin. “If you decide a younger guy might be your thing after all, you know where to find me.”
Not wanting to be left out, Brigit woofed up at Hunter and wagged her tail, offering her own good-bye.
He knelt down and rubbed her back and scratched her behind both ears. “Bye, girl. Be good.”
She gave his cheek a wet, warm lick, and he responded by hugging her around the neck and burying his face in her fur. I felt a little tug at my heart. Hunter would make some girl really happy someday.
I grabbed the handle of my suitcase and said, “C’mon, girl.”
With one last glance back at Hunter, Brigit and I left the lounge and walked through the foyer to the front doors. On our way down the ramp, we spotted Emily coming up the sidewalk.
She spotted us at the same time, her face clouding in concern as we met on the concrete. “What’s with the suitcase?”
“My parents are making me move in with my aunt and uncle for a while. I left you a note.”
She exhaled sharply. “I’m losing another roommate? That side of the room must be cursed.” She shook her head in disgust, though her face softened a moment later. “I hope my next one is half as nice as you, Morgan. You were…” She seemed to be searching for the exact words, but gave up quickly, probably not wanting to sound sappy. She left it at, “You were a good roomie.”
“So were you,” I said.
“No I wasn’t,” she replied without malice.
“Well…” Now it was my turn to search for words. “At least you kept things interesting.”
She snorted but smiled, giving me a quick and awkward one-armed hug before scurrying into the dorm.
As I led Brigit across the campus to the car, I found myself worrying about the naïve and vulnerable kids I was leaving behind. If the case were abandoned, would Chao continue to sell Molly to his fellow students? Would more young people succumb to the harmful effects of the drugs and suffer permanent health problems, or worse? Was there nothing I could do to stop the flow of drugs? To hold the dealers accountable for their crimes?
Were some criminals simply above the law?
FIFTY-FOUR
DOGGONE IT
Brigit
As they left the dorm, Megan stopped and talked to the nice boy. He gave Brigit extra scratches and rubs today, even a hug.
She hoped he’d get a dog of his own one day. He’d make one a really good friend.
FIFTY-FIVE
LEVERAGE
Senator Sutton
He stared across his desk at Wu. The minister of commerce had lost the cockiness he’d had when Sutton had attempted to negotiate before. God, it felt good to finally have some leverage.
“All I have to do is point the finger at your son,” he told Wu, “and he’ll be ruined. He’ll be put on a watch list and arrested the instant he tries to reenter the United States. Any dreams he has, any dreams you and your wife have for him, will be over.”
He almost felt bad to see the anxiety in the man’s eyes. Almost. It felt good to have some power back, for someone to be listening to him again. He’d been ignored far too often lately. By the press. By voters. By his fellow politicians.
He arched a brow and twisted the metaphorical knife. “The news that your son has been selling drugs made from ingredients he obtained in China won’t be good for your career, either.”
Wu’s eyes narrowed. “Nor would it be good for your campaign for the press and voters to know your intern was helping my son sell those drugs.”
Wu had a point, of course, which was precisely how this had all come about. But Wu had much more to lose than Sutton. Sutton’s connection to his intern was much more tenuous than the connection between father and son. Besides, Wu was younger by two decades and had many more years left in public service—assuming his career wasn’t ended early by the shame of a family drug scandal. The senator told him as much. “I’m only planning to serve one more term. This will be my last campaign. If I’m not reelected, I’ll just ease into an early retirement.”
It was a bald-faced lie. His aspirations ran much higher. He had his sights set on the presidency, moving into that nice little residence at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in D.C. He’d rather not deal with a scandal at all, but if he could at least stave it off until after the election in November he’d be in much better shape. It was extremely difficult to recall a sitting senator. But right now was a critical time in the campaign season. People were making up their minds, making firm decisions on who they would back. If the scandal hit now, it could be the final nail in the coffin of his campaign.
Wu seethed. “What do you want from me?”
Senator Sutton leaned back in his chair. “I want you to come out publicly in favor of my CUSP bill. Immediately. Then I want you to convince whoever needs convincing in China to get on board.” If he could get positive media attention on the progress he’d made, surely the tide would turn in his favor.
Wu threw up his hands. “How can this CUSP agreement be good for China?”
“It’s simple, really,” Sutton said. “Your people will be able to buy American products more cheaply than they can now. The CUSP will help China overcome some of the bad press it’s gotten for labor abuses, like the iPhone scandal. Workers in your country will be paid fair wages and have more money to spend, which will in turn increase demand for all products and stimulate the Chinese economy. Everyone will win.”
Wu didn’t look convinced, but he really didn’t have much choice in the matter. Not if he loved his son. “I will do as you ask,” he said finally on a sigh.
“Great! It’s a deal, then.” Sutton stood and walked around his desk to shake Wu’s hand. “I’ll see you out.”
He led the minister out of his office, down the hall, and through the foyer, stepping with him out into the hallway.
Ding! The elevator doors slid open and Paige stepped out. Part of him still wanted to backhand her, but part of him wanted to grab her and plant a big kiss on her cheek. Her stupid little criminal enterprise with Wu’s son had put the senator at risk, but it had also provided him just the clout he needed to back Wu into a corner, to make progress on the CUSP, and to get the prick and his ilk back on his side, to throw their full support behind him.
“Hello, Senator,” she said, looking both contrite and surprised at the same time. It seemed she hadn’t expected to see Minister Wu standing there with him. Her gaze went past the minster, obviously seeking his son. Good luck with that. The kid was knocking back moo goo gai pan in Beijing by now.
“Hello, Miss McQuaid,” Sutton said, reaching out a hand to hold the door for Wu. “I trust you were able to finish your homework?”
He was speaking in code, but he knew she’d understand. She was a smart girl according to his chief of staff, who’d hired her. Had a 3.8 GPA and made the dean’s list each semester. Her parents were very wealthy and well connected. They’d contributed thousands to his campaigns over the years, encouraged their friends to do likewise, even hosted informal fund-raising receptions for him at their lovely home in Southlake, which sat just one neighborhood over from the one the senator and his wife owned.
Paige nodded, but bit her lip.
“Something wrong?” he asked. “Did you have trouble with the homework?”
Her gaze went from Sutton to Wu.
“He knows what’s going on,” Sutton said softly. While his voice was still low, he spoke more emphatically now. “Was there a problem?”
“Nothing major,” she said. “At least I don’t think so. It’s just that a girl who lives in the other side of our suite
overheard me and my roommate talking. My roommate got mad when I deleted the video from her phone without asking her first. I’d never said that you…” She let the two men mentally complete the sentence. “Anyway, Morgan seemed to have figured out why I was deleting it.”
Sutton’s heart skittered in his chest. “That someone had asked you to do so, you mean?”
“Yeah.”
He felt panic rising up, gripping his guts like a claw. “And did Morgan figure out exactly who that someone might have been?” That it was him?
Once again the little twit said, “Yeah.”
Fuck! This was no longer simply a drug scandal. He could face felony charges for tampering with evidence. While he might have been able to survive bad press relating to a rogue intern, even if it came out that she’d met her accomplice in Sutton’s local office and used official computers to set up cash drops, there was no way in hell he could survive the accusation that he himself had tampered with evidence to cover it up. It would be a modern-day Watergate, with himself playing the role of Richard Nixon. Mollygate. The press would have a field day with it. He could see Trish LeGrande now, demanding answers and making accusatory retorts when he provided none. The media who’d been a politician’s biggest backers were the first to turn on him or her when they discovered their favorite lawmaker was actually a lawbreaker.
But would people believe a couple of college girls? Paige they’d surely dismiss out of hand. Who’d believe a drug dealer? But her friend Morgan could be another matter. If she stepped up to share her suspicions, he wasn’t sure whether people would believe her or not. He could be panicking for no reason. There was a good chance it would go no further.
Then again, if anyone started digging, they might discover that Paige’s incriminatory e-mails and browser history had been deleted from his computer at his local office. Of course, he could claim Paige had done so on her own, without his knowledge. After all, it wasn’t like he knew the girl well or spent much time in Fort Worth, at least not until recently.
He felt only a momentary sense of relief before a terrifying thought tiptoed into his mind. He’d had her sign in with her own user ID and password, but she’d used his computer, at his desk. Dammit! How could he have been so stupid! Would someone be able to tell which computer had been used to delete the information? And would they be able to tell when the e-mails and history had been removed? That it had occurred on Sunday, when the office was closed? Interns were not given keys to the office. Law enforcement would realize someone had let Paige in. While it wasn’t unusual for the senator or his chief of staff to to be in the office on a Saturday or Sunday, interns rarely worked weekends, and even then came in only if there was a special project under way.
Paige chewed her lip again. “Morgan was arrested with me on Saturday, at the pool party. She was drinking underage and pushed a cop into the pool. She moved out of the dorm this morning, and she’d only just moved in last week. She’s been asking everyone a bunch of questions, you know, about the kids at the dorm who got sick. I just thought she was getting to know everyone and trying to be friendly, and maybe I’m being paranoid, but…”
Senator Sutton didn’t like that but. Not at all.
“Any chance you have a picture of this girl?” the senator asked.
Paige whipped her phone out of her pocket and pulled up a photo of herself flanked by two girls. One was a pretty girl with dark skin and bronze hair. The other had skin like light toast and long black hair, a few freckles scattered across her face. Something about her looked slightly familiar, though he couldn’t place her.
Until he saw the dog.
The enormous shepherd mix looked eerily similar to the one he’d petted at the Fourth of July celebration at Panther Pavilion after he’d given his speech.
He returned his focus to the dark-haired girl, trying to picture her in a police uniform with her hair pulled back into a bun. While he might not have recognized the young woman alone, the fact that she resembled the handler he’d spoken with and her dog resembled the K-9 was too much to be mere coincidence.
It’s them.
Holy hell!
Any hope he’d had that things would go no further was gone now. He handed the phone back to Paige, fighting the urge to cram it down her throat and choke her to death. “That girl’s a local police officer. I met her on the Fourth of July.”
Paige’s eyes popped wide.
Though panic gripped Sutton’s heart and threatened to squeeze it to death, he forced himself to remain calm. “The drug investigation is in the DEA’s hands now. They’ve told me that without a match for the second set of prints they can’t proceed.” He bent down and looked Paige right in the eye. “I trust your attorney has instructed you not to speak with law enforcement?”
She nodded.
Thank God she’d hired Anthony Giacomo. The guy was known as a legal wizard, a one-man army when it came to criminal defense. He’d even managed to successfully defend an IRS investigator after she’d shot a target four times in the leg. Sutton’s office had received more than one complaint about how that matter had turned out, constituents questioning if shooting taxpayers was going to become a new way of doing business at the IRS, an aggressive collection method, if they’d become no better than loan sharks who sent their goons after those who couldn’t pay up. Of course the media had sensationalized the event, glossing over the fact that the victim had taken a shot at the agent before she’d opened fire. Self-defense wasn’t as sexy as scandal.
He put a hand on Paige’s shoulder. “It’s more important than ever that you follow Mr. Giacomo’s advice and say nothing. About the drugs and deleting the video. Otherwise, you could be brought up on charges of tampering with evidence, too. You understand that, right?”
She nodded, her eyes bright with anxiety.
Though he’d just as soon rip her arm off, he gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “It’ll all be okay, hon. Just keep your mouth shut tight. Now get on into the office and get to work.”
She turned and hurried off.
Once she’d gone, the senator’s eyes met Wu’s. “Paige is the only one who knows whose prints those are. She can bring us both down. And that cop’s catching on. If she does any more snooping, you and I are screwed.” He paused a moment to let that sink in before adding, “We can’t let that happen, can we?”
“No,” Wu agreed. “You’ll take care of them?”
“We’ll do it together.” Sutton offered a smile that was anything but congenial. “You’ll supply the cheap Chinese labor, and I’ll supply an American-made car, gun, bullets.”
FIFTY-SIX
FAST AND FURRY-OUS
Megan
Detective Jackson hadn’t been in the station when I’d gone by to return the Jeep. I wanted to tell her what I’d overhead, that Paige had deleted the video from Alexa’s phone and that it appeared she might have done so on orders from Senator Sutton, but the detective was out for the afternoon working other cases and had left orders with Melinda that she wasn’t to be interrupted unless it was an emergency. My news could wait. After all, the video from the pool party had already been deleted from Alexa’s phone. It was too late to do anything about it now.
Monday evening, I packed Brigit into my tiny blue Smart Car and drove up to the skating rink in Lewisville to cheer on Frankie and the rest of the Fort Worth Whoop Ass in their bout against the Fredericksburg Femme Fatales. I might have lost my drug case to the feds, but I’d sure as hell root for my roommate to skate her way to victory.
I sat on the sidelines with the mostly male crowd who’d come to watch their girlfriends play. The skaters went round and round and round, skating and scoring and occasionally wiping out and sliding across the well-polished track. The guys seemed to find the female aggression titillating, jumping to their feet and shouting in glee whenever things got particularly rough on the track. Sheesh.
When the guy next to me sat down after shouting encouragement to the skaters, I turned to him, “This
turns you on, doesn’t it?”
“Like nothing else!” he admitted with a shameless smile.
Despite being in firefighter training, Frankie was on fire herself tonight, skating harder and faster than I’d ever seen her, a blue-haired blur as she sped past, maneuvering like a pro.
I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted. “Go, Frankie!”
The guy nudged me. “It turns you on, too, doesn’t it?”
Double sheesh. “I’m only here to support my roommate.”
“Roommate,” he repeated with an exaggerated wink. “Sure.”
When the bout wound up, the Whoop Ass had lived up to its name, thoroughly trouncing the Femme Fatales with a final score of 343 to 81.
After Frankie exchanged ass pats with her teammates and congenial nods and hand slaps with the opposing team, she rolled off the track and in my direction, raising her palms for a double high five.
“Great bout!” I said.
Brigit raised one paw for a single high five.
Frankie grinned. “Hauling around all that heavy equipment in the fire academy has made me so much stronger. My stamina is better, too.”
“It shows. You looked great out there.”
She beamed with pride. “Thanks!”
We parted ways a few minutes later. She planned to go out with the other girls on the team to celebrate, and I didn’t want to horn in. Besides, after living in a dorm the last week and being constantly around people, I was looking forward to some quiet time alone.
Brigit and I headed south down State Highway 121, traveling in the rightmost lane. It was after nine o’clock by then, and given that it was a weeknight, traffic was relatively light, much lighter than it had been when I’d driven up this way earlier and caught the tail end of rush-hour traffic.
The roads up this way seemed to be under constant construction. Orange barrels were visible up ahead, cordoning off a zone where large equipment was parked. As we approached the work zone, a vehicle zoomed up behind me. Judging from the height of its headlights, it had to be a pickup truck or SUV. The car pulled up to within inches of my back bumper and turned on its bright lights, blinding me. Jackass. Why didn’t the driver just move into the adjacent lane?
