One Man Two Votes (The Robert Carlton Series Book 1)

by J Russ Briley

  As she entered, the bellman discreetly handed her an electronic key card. Behind her, at a distance, came Hunt. He had taken care of the car and valet, but he didn’t want anyone to notice him following the girl. He lagged behind her, but arrived in time to get into her elevator.

  The key unlocked the floor. When they arrived, Hunt let Carol go into the hall first. The suites on this floor catered to the elite, and it was possible that someone would have security standing outside their door. Hunt was lucky; that didn’t appear to be the case this evening. He followed Carol to Senator Farrell’s sumptuous suite.

  Opening the door, Carol could see that room service had set up a tray in the living area. Champagne stood in a silver bucket, and Strawberries Romanov adorned a china platter. She left the door ajar, and headed into the bedroom. Hunt entered the room behind her.

  Senator Farrell had arrived much earlier, and was relaxing in the spacious marble bathroom’s tub.

  “Carol, my beauty,” he called, seeing her approach the doorway. “Why don’t you relieve yourself of those clothes, and come join me.”

  Carol entered the bathroom. “Hello, Morgan.” She smiled. Draping her fur on the makeup stool, she perched on the edge of the large tub.

  “Did you bring it?” Farrell had a hungry look.

  “It’s right here.” She patted her purse. Leaning away, she set the purse on top of the fur. “Wouldn’t you like to have some champagne first?”

  “It can wait. Jump in here, and bring the purse with you.” He told her.

  “You sure? The strawberries look terrific.” She stood up to leave.

  Hunt rushed through the door grabbing Carol harshly by the upper arm, forcing her down onto the hard tub edge.

  “Stop squirming!” Hunt growled at Carol. ““Hello, Senator.” Hunt said conversationally. Farrell made a weak attempt at rising. “You just stay right there in the tub.” Hunt’s gun sat comfortably in his hand, pointing at Farrell. Hunt’s fingers were biting into Carol’s arm, making her wince.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Farrell asked irritably, annoyance causing his voice to crack slightly.

  “Now, is that any way to greet a business associate, Senator?” Hunt said with intimidating confidence. “You’ve been enjoying yourself,” he continued with a nod toward Carol, “and it’s time to pay something back. I need a little favor from you.”

  Farrell made a move to get out of the tub again. Hunt, still holding Carol, leaned forward and pushed Farrell back in with the point of his barrel. His grip brought a pained whimper from Carol. “Don’t press your luck with me, Senator.”

  Farrell let out a huff of indignation. “I don’t know why you think you can talk to me like this, Hunt. I don’t owe you, or anyone else, anything. You should know better than to barge in here and make demands on...” he began.

  “I know exactly who and what I’m dealing with, Senator.” Hunt interrupted. “I think our past dealings together may have misled you about me. Let me explain the situation to you, Senator.” Hunt yanked Carol off the tub edge and pushed her to the floor, her arm twisting awkwardly in his grip. Hunt was enjoying himself immensely.

  Knocking Carol’s purse off onto the floor with his gun, he watched Farrell’s eyes followed it as it fell. “My associates and I have the ability to make you quite miserable. These little luxuries you enjoy? If you want to keep them, you’re going to do a favor for us. You’re going to turn Senator Daniel Gregg over to the U.S. Attorney General. Are you listening to me?”

  Farrell had been distracted by Carol’s purse, staring at it throughout Hunt’s speech. He slowly tore his eyes away, trying to focus on what Hunt was saying.

  “You will ‘out’ Gregg as the key man behind the attempt to sabotage and take control of the OPOV system.” Hunt continued. “You will do this by handing over supporting evidence to Robert Carlton, the Associate Attorney General, when you have lunch. You’ll need to move that lunch up, by the way. It’ll have to be tomorrow.”

  “I can’t do that! Gregg’s...” Farrell stammered. His face flushed with a mix of anger, anxiety, and high blood pressure.

  “Yes, you can. And you definitely will.” Hunt interrupted. He was in control and he liked it. Pressing his foot into Carol’s waist, he pinned her against the cabinet and floor. Hunt let go of her arm. “You’ll give Carlton these two recordings.” He pulled a memory stick and yellow envelope out of his side coat pocket and set it on the makeup counter. “If you don’t, I cut off your supply permanently.” Nodding in the direction of the purse, Hunt gave Carol a nudge with his foot. “Open it.” He told her.

  Struggling against the pressure of his foot, she leaned over, and opened the purse. She took out a vial of white powder, handing it to Hunt.

  Farrell watched each movement. He mustered every ounce of confidence he had to lean casually back in the tub, suppressing his need for the powder. “You can’t cut me off from anything. I can get that anywhere. You don’t understand who you’re tangling with.”

  “Really, Senator?” Hunt replied casually. “I think I know exactly who I’m ‘tangling’ with. I know about your oil lobbyist—the one you’ve been kissing up to for those fat bankrolls you’ve been enjoying. Believe me, I can cut you off from that, and from this type of perk.” Hunt said, gesturing to the luxury suite. “And I know your fetishes, and your indulgences.” Hunt said, nodding toward Carol and the vial. “I have plenty of information that will discredit you with your public, your supporters, and your family, if you want to play hardball. If you choose to cooperate, however, everything can be just like it was. Plus, we’ll supply some extra benefits.” Hunt was careful to keep the gun trained on Farrell. “Take a look at that envelope. Make sure you look closely.” He picked up the envelope and laid it on the edge of the tub.

  The first signs of nervousness crept into Farrell’s expression. He took a moment to glance through the few pictures, and then read through a list of documents Hunt claimed to have. A copy of one was in the envelope. It was a damning list. Farrell knew that Hunt was serious. If any of this got out, the scandal wouldn’t be survivable.

  “Who’s behind this?” He demanded. Farrell decided he wasn’t going down unless somebody a lot bigger was pulling the strings. He knew there weren’t many that fit that description, and he could influence most of them.

  “Senator, you have my guarantee that this is far too big for you to fight, and those involved are too significant for me to name names.” Hunt answered easily. He paused, then continued in a meaningful tone, “Believe me when I say you have no choice. If we don’t have your assurance of ‘support,’ you’ll wish you weren’t walking out of here in the morning. You won’t like the reception outside.”

  Farrell sputtered, as words failed him. His face began turning very pale.

  “Nicely said.” Hunt commented. “So, turn the evidence on Gregg over tomorrow at the lunch. That’s all you have to do.” He opened the vial and tapped out some of the powder on the counter. “I don’t want you forgetting, so I’m keeping the rest of this for now.” He dropped the vial into the purse. “I locked out your connections for more, so unless you want to go to the street searching for some…well, that wouldn’t be very smart, would it? I’m pretty sure you’d be photographed, especially since it would be my operative doing the picture taking. I’ll turn your supply back on when I hear the door slam on Gregg. Not before. Oh, and don’t think you can get help from anyone without my hearing about it. Besides...” He cracked a thin-lipped grin, “I’m quite sure you don’t want to talk to anyone else, do you?”

  He stood up and tossed the fur to Carol who stood up slowly. “You’re leaving with me.” Carol looked scared. Hunt had not warned Carol about anything he’d planned to do. He’d wanted her reactions to be genuine.

  “That craving you feel now will turn into the shakes once that little taste I left wears off.” He told Farrell. “So, I’d get moving if I were you. We swept your house and office clean of those emergency stashes you
keep around. Oh, and we got the one from your secretary’s desk. Yes, I know about you taping it under her drawer. That’s not very nice. What if she were to get busted in a sweep?”

  Hunt turned and closed his hand around Carol’s arm, leading her to the door. Putting his gun away and picking up a towel with his other hand, he threw it into the water. He looked back over his shoulder, telling Farrell, “Get out. Your romantic evening is over.” Hunt left with Carol, leaving the bathroom door open.

  Farrell clambered out of the water, pulling the wet towel out onto the floor. He rushed naked to the counter to inhale the small stripe of cocaine.

  Driving away from the hotel, Hunt broke the silence first. “You did well. I’ll drop you at another hotel. From there you can catch a cab.”

  “You scared me.” Carol’s weakened voice was barely audible.

  “Yeah, well, it was important that he think you had nothing to do with it.” He pulled a thick wad of money from his pocket and handed it to her.

  They drove several blocks away. Arriving at a lesser hotel that had self-parking, Hunt pulled in, driving to a top-level parking spot. The lights in the corner of the garage he chose weren’t working. Hunt turned off the engine, and the car lights.

  “Turn around.” He commanded Carol.

  She was surprised, but turned her back to him compliantly, simultaneously placing the money into her purse. He pulled down the zipper of her dress. Carol flinched a little at his touch.

  “There’s an extra thousand there.” Hunt said dryly, pulling the top of her dress forward and off her shoulders. Her fair skin looked pale in the poorly lit garage. As she reached both hands backward to unclasp her bra, Hunt pulled a garrote from between the seats. The cold wire looped around her head in one silent, quick movement. Hunt tightened and relaxed his grip a couple of times, allowing her to gasp for air repeatedly before he finished her prolonged death struggle. The confines of the car made her kicking and flailing useless. He grinned through clenched teeth as her nails bit into the backs of his hands. His head went back in a spasm of demented ecstasy.

  The wire was thick enough to strangle without cutting, so there was no blood, just a deep red line of broken capillaries and damaged skin. The strangulation turned the blood vessels in her eyes brilliant red. She made no sound as her throat collapsed, and her air gave out.

  Hunt didn’t like loose ends. In his business, no one did.

  Chapter 65

  Blair followed Grady back to the bed and breakfast cottage. He kept plenty of distance between his car and Grady’s, knowing where Grady was likely to be headed. He was making sure there were no surprises, and no slip-ups. He stopped along the road before reaching the B&B, where his car wouldn’t draw attention. The car rapidly became an icebox as the inside temperature dipped below freezing, forcing him to periodically crank up the engine to get warm. He’d coated the windows with a thin layer of soap as an anti-fogger, allowing him a clear view.

  He picked up his night vision binoculars and scanned the cottages. The area was devoid of movement. A few of the bungalows still had lights on, but most were dark. All the snow and ice would make his car noisy if he drove into the complex, and walking in made for a bad exit strategy. He’d rather get this done tonight, before he left, but that didn’t look feasible. He picked up the phone.

  “Hello?” The woman’s voice sounded groggy.

  “I need you to close out the job tomorrow.” He told her.

  “That soon?” She asked, sounding more alert.

  “We need to finish this job. I’ve got more work for you to do. Do you think you can get him to the back road?”

  “No problem. But short notice costs extra.” She informed him.

  “You’re confident he’ll show in the morning?” Blair wanted to be sure this got done.

  “Yes. Absolutely.” She affirmed.

  “Then I’ll arrange the car and reception.” Blair thought that was at least one thing he could make sure got done.

  “And my bonus?” She reminded him.

  “If you get him there. The guys will take care of the rest. If for some reason they don’t show, you’ll have to do it. Your bonus will be five percent.”

  “Ten.” She bargained.

  “Five and you take over the watch…now. I have to head back.” Blair said firmly.

  “He’s not going anywhere.” After a pause; “Five percent.” She sighed.

  “The minute you hand him off, you catch a flight back. I need you on the other job right away.”

  “I’m at your service,” she answered.

  They both hung up.

  Grady rose when his alarm clock chimed. He had slept soundly. A quick glance through each window verified sunny skies. After a quick shower he headed out the door. The ski shops wouldn’t open for more than an hour, so he figured he’d stop for food. Turning onto the main road, Grady didn’t notice the car discretely following him.

  Grady found a familiar coffee shop near a rental and clothing store, and sat back to comfortably enjoy his espresso. He ordered a ham and egg bagel.

  When he saw the ski shop open up, he strolled in behind a couple of college guys. A girl at the counter set about helping the boys get boots and skis.

  Grady approached the counter. A twenty-something guy behind it asked, “Looking for a rental package?”

  “Do you have a set that’s been recently tuned up? Fresh wax?” Grady asked directly.

  “Yeah, I tune the skis. I just set up two new GS pairs, and three pairs for all-around.” The guy answered comfortably.

  “Excellent.” Grady smiled. “I would like the all-around ones closest to 175, and a set of better quality boots. I don’t know if we will be on the moguls, or in the back bowl, and I need to be able to beat my friend down the hill. I want the bindings locked down tight, and the wax brushed so it’s hot on the first run. Do you know what I mean?”

  The guy’s interest had perked up from the moment Grady had asked about tuned skis, but now he was excited. “Cool!” He enthused. “Yeah, they’re a little extra, but I think you’ll like these.” Walking back, he pulled a colorful pair from the hanging rack. “They’re choice, if you’re between a 10 or 12. I put a coat of ‘White Gold’ on them using a copper brush, then a nylon brush, tip to tail on each coat, and...”

  “You know your stuff.” Grady interrupted, laughing. “Let’s say I’m an 11. And I’ll need stiff, tall boots.”

  “I’m on it, Dude.” The tech was clearly happy to be putting together something more interesting than the cheap, standard rental.

  Grady went to the overpriced clothing section, and picked through the trendy gear. Fortunately there was a partial rack from last year on sale for half-off. He found a nice jacket, a set of long underwear, gloves, and hat. His jeans would do fine in this weather. The rental paperwork needed ID, and a charge card. Grady wasn’t worried about the ID, it wouldn’t be broadcasted anywhere. The charge card was the problem. He’d disposed of his attacker’s cards and ID, and if he used his own it would become a trail when swiped through the machine. He decided that the excuse of forgetting his card and a generous tip would get him past that hurdle. He was right. The guy tuning his demos didn’t need to be asked twice. He didn’t peg Grady as the type to steal the skis, and he needed the extra money. It all took a bite out of Grady’s dwindling cash. He changed into the new gear at the shop, then picked up his boots and skis.

  Proceeding to the ski resort, Grady rolled into the upper parking lot. With his boots finally on, and the skis balanced on his shoulder, he began his trek to the main ticket booth.

  Grady deftly adapted to walking in the tall, stiff boots. He found himself enjoying the moment. The day felt fresh, and the ground was covered in bright white patches of sunlight. The chilled air super-cooled his face. He found himself anticipating a pleasant day.

  Once he arrived at the ticket booth, he propped up his skis and got his ticket. With the ticket safely secured to his jacket, he snapped on his skis and skat
ed to the Peak double. He waited, watching the path that came up from the parking area. He didn’t have to wait long. Walking toward him was the most fantastic woman he could have imagined. She wore almost solid white, with a few vibrant yellow accents. Even her boots and skis were almost all white. Her hair cascaded across her shoulders, framing her face perfectly as she smiled at him.

  “Good Morning, Grady!” She sounded genuinely excited to see him.

  “Melanie...you look fantastic!” Grady was overcome by her appearance. She looked more beautiful than she had last night. Even in the insulated ski clothes her spectacular figure was evident. Maybe more so, with her tightly cinched waist belt emphasizing her curves. He recovered himself. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Yep, my lift pass was part of my hotel package.” She flipped the ticket hanging from her jacket.

  “Well, let’s head for the chair.” Grady helped her with her skis by setting them on the snow, next to her feet. She snapped in easily and they polled the last few feet to the lift line.

  “It’s a perfect day. I’m glad you talked me into this.” Grady felt awkward. Not with the skis, but with the woman. He looked up and around to orient himself. It really was a beautiful day, he thought, admiring the bright blue sky between the white clouds. The sun beamed down on the snow, sending multicolored sparks of light in every direction, and glinting off Melanie’s shiny hair.

  “Too bad it didn’t snow more. This will all be packed down on the runs in no time.” Melanie added, not sounding too disappointed. “But the base looks good, and I can work on my technique for packed powder.”

  Grady was having a tough time concentrating on the thought of skiing. This woman had captivated him. The voice in his head was beginning to wonder what was wrong with this picture. He usually took his time with relationships, forming connections based on joint interests and conversation, holding back his smoldering passions until he felt there was more than basic physical attraction. There had been no one special in his life since his wife had passed away. Girls hit on him occasionally, but he was frequently oblivious to their charms. His friends usually ribbed him about it.