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The Triple Threat Collection

Page 12

by Lis Wiehl

I’ve got to get ready for work,” Cassidy murmured. She was nestled into the crook of Rick’s arm, the sheets tangled around them. Their clothes were scattered all over the room. An empty wine bottle stood on the bureau, and another lay sideways on the floor.

  His arm tightened. “You can’t go, baby. It’s not right. I still can’t believe you have to work on Christmas. Especially on a Saturday!”

  “I lost the holiday lottery this year. But I get to fill in for Brad, so it’s not all bad. Some people think I’m anchor material. This will give me a chance to strut my stuff.”

  Rick’s expression changed. “You’d better not be strutting it for anyone but me.”

  She pushed his shoulder. “Ha-ha, very funny. When would I have time to see anyone else? I really don’t even have time for you.”

  Leaning over, she gave him a peck. Rick turned it into a full-on kiss that threatened to become something more.

  Cassidy finally managed to get him to let her up. As she got to her feet, a headache bloomed behind her eyes. What time had they gotten to bed? Had she ever really gone to sleep?

  This thing with Rick was crazy and fast. Just the way Cassidy liked it. She liked the way he was watching her now, as she walked around her bedroom naked and pulled clothes from her closet. She didn’t even mind that her hair must look like a rat’s nest, although she did suck in her stomach. There was something about his ice-blue eyes, always at half-mast, that reminded her of some kind of animal. A wolf, maybe. Something that looked all tame and calm on the outside, but inside was anything but domesticated. He was always watching her, but she never knew what he was thinking. Maybe that came with the territory when you dated a cop.

  After a long shower, Cassidy’s head felt a little clearer. She didn’t remember bringing it in here last night, but there was another bottle of wine in the bathroom. She took a long sip before she brushed her teeth. Surest way to get rid of a hangover, that’s what everyone always said.

  She came out of the bathroom wearing black pants and a V-neck cranberry red sweater.

  “You’re not wearing that,” Rick said. It wasn’t a question. He had propped himself up on the headboard with a couple of pillows.

  “Why not? It’s a Christmasy color.”

  “It’s too low-cut. I don’t want all of Portland ogling you.”

  Cassidy leaned over the bed. “Oh, so you’re the only one who can ogle?”

  One second she was leaning over him, the next Rick had flipped her onto her back, holding her arms over her head.

  Cassidy laughed in surprise, but she heard how uncertain it sounded. “What are you doing?”

  “Making you late for work.” He nuzzled the side of her neck.

  “No, Rick, don’t. I don’t want to.”

  “Don’t say that. I know you do.” He pulled back and gave her a wolfish grin.

  “No, seriously, I don’t.”

  Rick’s eyes narrowed. His expression changed, hardened somehow.

  Something pulsed low in Cassidy’s belly. Was it desire—or fear?

  “I mean, of course I do. I would love to spend the rest of the day here with you in bed, but I have to go to work. They’re counting on me.”

  For an answer, he grabbed both her wrists with one hand.

  MYSPACE.COM/THEDCPAGE

  Blue Eyes

  October 6

  Saying you’re a Senate page sounds glamorous, but it’s not. We’re basically gofers. It seems so old-fashioned, all the paper we carry around. Haven’t they heard of e-mail? It’s probably been the same since Daniel Webster was a page.

  This afternoon I ran into Senator X. He asked me what I was doing for dinner tomorrow. When I told him I had a voucher to eat in the Union Station food court, he made his voice break like the kid who works at Krusty Burger on The Simpsons. “You want a side of grease with your burger?”

  I laughed. The food there does get kind of old. Then he said we should go to that same Japanese restaurant we went to with V. Usually you have to go someplace with another page, but when you’re with an adult you can go places by yourself. So I knew it would be just him & me, which is a little weird. But I’ve heard that every year he picks out a page to mentor.

  At the restaurant, he ordered for me. He remembered exactly what I liked from the other time we were there! He said when he was a page it was the same as now—long hours, no glory & bad food. I said he left out the stupid uniform. But tonight I was wearing black pants & my blue cashmere sweater. Everyone always says it makes my eyes look bluer.

  He even gave me a present—a beautiful gold bracelet—b/c he had heard I had my birthday. I couldn’t believe it! He said I could always look at it & remember my time here.

  The night just flew by. When I came home, my roommates were all asleep. They probably had just watched TV in the dayroom & gone to bed. And I had been talking to a senator about my future!

  MARK O. HATFIELD UNITED STATES COURTHOUSE

  December 27

  The trap and trace says the threat came from a pay phone,” Allison told Nicole. They were in Allison’s office, waiting for Senator Fairview and his lawyer.

  “Did the voice sound familiar?”

  “Maybe. Yes. No.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. You know how many people I’ve prosecuted. You’ve worked most of those cases with me.”

  Nicole tilted her head. “Then why are they going after you and not me? Or both of us?”

  Allison had thought about this. “I’m the one who puts people away. I’m the one they think of when they sit in their jail cells . . . or when they get out.”

  When Allison’s phone rang, both women started.

  “Senator Fairview is here,” the receptionist said.

  Allison looked over at Nicole. “They’re here. Let’s go pin this jerk to the wall.”

  As a prosecutor, Allison would never interview a potential witness by herself. If someone told her one thing in an interview and then said something different on the witness stand, she couldn’t take the stand herself to rebut him. She needed someone else present to do that.

  More than that, she and Nicole made a good team. In an interview, Nicole sat back and listened with all her being, which made some people feel off-balance. They could tell they were being put under a microscope. And with as slick as Senator Fairview and his lawyer were sure to be, her team needed all the advantages they could get.

  Michael Stone, Fairview’s lawyer, had agreed to the interview only if Fairview was granted “use immunity.” Use immunity meant the government couldn’t use what was said today against Fairview at any future trial—it was for information only. Even if he broke down and confessed to killing Katie, it would be inadmissible at trial.

  Allison had agreed to the stipulation, but mentally she put an asterisk after the agreement. If Fairview bobbed and weaved, if he said anything that put her antennae up, then the interview would be over, and the next time she saw Fairview would be in front of the grand jury. And if he said anything at all different to the grand jury, she would know he was lying. While technically she wouldn’t be able to use that knowledge, it would still make all the difference.

  She knew that Stone knew this as well. Most lawyers took the safe route and just said no thanks to an interview, even with use immunity. But Stone was a risk taker. He practiced law expertly, but often very close to the edge. Of course, he would also turn around and not only tell the media that his client was cooperating, but hint that Fairview was actually helping to track the real killer down.

  The two men were waiting in the lobby.

  Dapper and neat, with black hair silvering at the temples, Senator Fairview wore a perfectly tailored black suit and an appropriately concerned expression. He shook Allison’s hand with just the right amount of firmness. In her two-inch heels, she was eye to eye with him.

  Michael Stone was as famous for his expensive suits as he was for his high-profile clients. Today he wore a charcoal gray suit with a subtle pinstripe, which had probably cost more than Allison
’s car, as well as shiny Prada shoes with the little red stripe up the back of the heel.

  “Hi. I’m Mike Stone. How you folks doin’?” Stone also shook their hands, his teeth gleaming in his tan face.

  “We appreciate you coming in during the holidays,” Allison said. “I’m sorry to have to take you away from your families.”

  “This is a matter of life and death,” Fairview said portentously. “I will do everything in my power to help you find that girl.”

  Allison ushered them into a conference room that overlooked the Willamette River. Senator Fairview smoothed the front of his jacket before sitting down. He reminded her of some kind of smooth, self-contained animal, a cat maybe, or an otter. She knew every word out of his mouth would have been rehearsed with Stone many times over.

  “Now, Senator Fairview,” Allison began.

  He cleared his throat. “Please, call me James.”

  “I understand Katie Converse was your page,” she said, careful not to call him anything at all. “How many pages do you have at one time?”

  Fairview’s shoulders seemed to relax. “That’s not how the page system works. She wasn’t ‘my’ page. There are only thirty Senate pages per program, and two programs per year. I usually only sponsor a page every two or three years. But they don’t work for me. They work for the whole Senate.”

  As he spoke, Nicole took notes. Later she would write up a report and send it to Allison.

  Stone was pecking away on his Mac PowerBook. He was either taking copious notes or playing solitaire. Either way, he seemed to be distancing himself from the interview, giving Allison and Nicole a free hand. If it was a ploy, it was one that worked for Allison.

  “How many applicants did you have for the slot Katie took?” Allison asked.

  He shrugged. “I think five or six. My staff narrowed it down for me. I only spoke with the top three finalists.”

  “So you first met Katie . . . ?”

  “Last spring when I interviewed her.”

  “Was anyone else present?”

  “Her stepmother—Valerie—was there, but I asked her to stay in the waiting area. Valerie and her husband have donated to my campaign, and I’ve met her at a few fundraising events.” Fairview allowed himself a small smile. “But frankly, she seems like a bit of a helicopter parent—do you know the term?”

  “A parent who hovers?” Allison asked.

  “Exactly. I want to hear from the student applying to be sponsored by me, not from some parent who interrupts everything they say to explain, ‘What Jonathan really meant was . . .’”

  “You said the Converses had donated to your campaign. Is that a prerequisite to being a page?”

  “Of course not,” Fairview said in a disappointed tone. “Katie was chosen on her own merits. She was bright, well-spoken, and had glowing references from her teachers. The other candidates had those things too. But what made Katie stand out was how much she loved politics. She wasn’t just thinking that a stint as a Senate page would look good on her college transcript. She truly cared. Her parents could even have been Democrats and I still would have wanted to sponsor her—although I’ll admit it’s not likely liberals would have asked me to sponsor their kid.”

  He smiled disarmingly. Allison caught herself starting to smile back.

  “And what was your impression of Katie?”

  Fairview made a show of looking at Stone, who said, “Just tell them what you know, James, like we talked about. Just tell them the truth.”

  It was all Allison could do not to roll her eyes. Stone’s words reminded her that the whole thing was an act from start to finish.

  Fairview cleared his throat. “At that time, I thought Katie was bright and very capable.”

  “At that time?” Allison echoed, drawn in despite herself. “Did your opinion change?”

  He pursed his lips and then said, “Shortly after the program started, I met Katie in a hallway when she was running an errand. She started telling me how lonely she was. Of course, I was completely sympathetic. It’s a bit of a shock to the system being away from home and family and friends for the first time. Plus, being a Senate page is hard work. I understand, you know. I was one years ago. It’s like having two full-time jobs: student and Senate worker. It’s extremely stressful.”

  “Did you talk more after that?” Allison asked.

  “Katie had a lot of questions about politics. And she wanted to discuss the issues. She’s a political junkie, as I am. She wanted to know about the ins and outs, the horse trading, how bills get made, the work of the committees.” Fairview’s voice rose with unfeigned passion. “You know how few people care about those things, even though they affect everything in their lives?”

  “Did you ever call her?” Allison watched him closely. This was her chance to see how far he would go with his lies.

  He did not seem concerned. “A few times. I felt I should check to see how things were going. I was worried about her, frankly. I even talked to my wife about it.”

  A few times? Is that what he calls a couple of hundred conversations?

  Allison concealed her glee. “What were you worried about?”

  “Katie’s emotions were very volatile. Everything was either the best thing that ever happened to her or the end of the world. She was seeing a boy, one of the House or Senate pages, but it wasn’t going well. It was a rocky relationship. Very volatile.”

  Nicole looked up from her notes.

  Allison said, “Who was it?”

  “I don’t know his name. She never told me.”

  “Did you ever see him? Can you describe him?”

  Is he inventing the boy for his own purposes? There were some blog entries about a boy, but they didn’t sound as full of turmoil as Fairview was making out.

  Fairview shrugged. “Between the House and the Senate, there are dozens of pages. She never pointed him out to me, and I never saw her with one particular boy.”

  “Did she tell you where he was from?”

  “No.” His voice finally showed strain. “I don’t know anything about him. All I know is that I told Katie if it was causing her that much turmoil, maybe she should just break it off. Maybe I was wrong.” His eyes welled with tears. “Maybe she needed all the friends she could get, and I took one away from her.”

  “Katie was clearly lonely.” Allison put on an expression of sympathy. “Look, sometimes kids don’t realize the signals they send out. It wouldn’t be unheard of for her to come on to you. Is that what happened? And then the relationship got too complicated . . .”

  “It wasn’t like that at all,” he said flatly.

  “So are you saying you were flattered by how she confided in you?”

  Instead of being insulted, Fairview shook his head. “Frankly, no. I didn’t need some clingy girl who thought her problems were the whole world.”

  Could he be telling the truth?

  “We’ve heard that you took Katie out to dinner.”

  His expression remained innocent and open. “Her parents, who, as I’ve said, are also campaign contributors, made a point of asking me to watch out for her. As the program went on, I noticed that Katie started to lose weight. To be honest, she reminded me of my daughter, who’s also had some food issues. I occasionally took Katie out for meals so I could monitor her eating.”

  “How were you able to take her out?” Allison asked. “Don’t pages need to be accompanied by another page at all times away from their job?”

  Fairview shook his head. “Not when they are in the company of an adult.”

  Nicole spoke for the first time. “Didn’t you worry about how that would appear?” She gave him a skeptical look.

  Fairview straightened up. “I’m her mentor. Katie views me as a father figure. She’s troubled, and I tried to help her. And now I’m being crucified for that.” His jaw jutted forward like a bulldog’s. “Every time I open my front door, reporters yell questions in my face. They’re hounding my family.”

 
“Then why didn’t you get Katie some help?” Allison asked. “Shouldn’t you have reported her to her proctor?”

  “I knew what would happen. They would just ship her home to get the problem off their hands. And I knew that would completely crush Katie. Being a Senate page was her dream. She saw it as the first step toward a career in politics. If I reported her, her dream would die.” He put his palm over his heart. “And I would have been the one to kill it.”

  It was time to show him that there was a fist inside the velvet glove. “So you ignored Katie’s problems,” Allison said.

  Fairview straightened up. “I did not ignore them. I tried to help her.” His face showed a trace of annoyance. “Are you saying I should have forced a troubled girl to give up the one thing that gave her life meaning?”

  “You yourself said she was troubled. But you just let that go?”

  “I did talk to her about it. Many times. I wanted her to see a counselor. But she would have had to do it through the page program’s providers, and she was afraid they would report back. She said I was the only one she could talk to.”

  “So did you ever wish there was a way you could just—get rid of her?” Allison asked softly. “It’s understandable, really.”

  His face flushed. “Are you saying I did something to her? I did not. I’ll take a lie detector test. I’ll do whatever you want to prove to you that I didn’t do anything to that girl.” He took a deep breath and calmed him-self. “As we got closer to Christmas break, I was worried she might do something rash. She was depressed that she had to go home and live with her stepmother again. Valerie has strict standards, and Katie’s gotten used to being on her own.”

  “When was the last time you saw her?”

  Fairview seemed to be holding himself carefully, choosing his words with care. “Actually, it was December thirteenth. A few hours before she went missing. I was Christmas shopping with my wife in Nordstrom when I ran into Katie. She was looking for something for her stepmother. Our conversation lasted only a few seconds.”

  “What time was this?”

 

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