by Debra Webb
“If Burton isn’t representing you,” Kendra asked, “then who would he be working for? He’s been on top of my every move since I arrived.”
“My new enemies. Men I’ve worked with for two decades. There are at least three who I believe would go to any lengths to stop this piece of legislation from reaching fruition.”
“Yet you’re still not prepared to go to the authorities,” Kendra tossed out a second time.
“You are surely aware of what would happen if I chose that path.”
He was correct. She was quite aware. “All-out war.”
Her assessment prompted a somber nod from him. “Make no mistake, I have an ongoing effort to catch them at their own game. However,” he confessed, “proper evidence is essential to taking the appropriate steps to see that they answer for their actions.”
“What about the accusation against your wife?” Kendra wasn’t going to let that go until she had a better sense of the senator’s involvement. She had seen the pictures. He was at the very least acquainted with Aleesha Ferguson. That was a given.
A frown lined his brow. “Since I’m unaware of any such effort, I have to assume that this is yet another strategy to discredit me.”
Yoni had not mentioned the troubles related to Mrs. Castille. And the senator stuck by his story. That left Grant Roper, Kendra’s replacement on the senator’s staff. He was the only one spouting this other theory. That he had pictures which seemingly backed up his accusations, left Kendra with no choice but to believe that some truth was buried there.
The facts were indisputable. Aleesha Ferguson was dead. Killed by a hit-and-run driver on June 2. And her associate Delilah insisted Sharon Castille was involved, if not driving the automobile used to murder the victim. The latter was ultimately hearsay but when considered in light of the photos Roper had shown off, difficult to dismiss.
Kendra posed to the senator the same question she’d presented to Yoni. “Is there one iota of truth to any of the levied threats? Like this alleged terrorist connection to Yoni? Anything at all upon which your enemies could be building their case?”
The extended hesitation before he responded warned that Kendra and Rocky were about to be given a pivotal piece of the puzzle.
“I understand that you grew disillusioned with things here,” Castille asserted, the effort obviously painful. “I will be the first to admit that there was a phase through which I failed to live up to the expectation of those who had graciously elected me to office.” The senator’s gaze grew distant. “I allowed my perspective to grow skewed. The power rather than the privilege became the goal. It was wrong and I must live with those choices for the rest of my life.”
Kendra let the pause pass without saying a word. She wanted nothing she said or nothing he saw in her eyes or on her face to stop his momentum.
“But, with Yoni’s encouragement and support, I reached a place where I recognized it was time to give back. This bill is my legacy to the American people. I will not allow anyone or anything to taint the effort.
“No one is without a history or mistakes. Except perhaps Yoni.” Castille moved his head side to side in disgust or defeat, maybe both. “This so-called connection is related to an event in his father’s youth. One that is about to be blown completely out of context and grievously out of proportion.”
“And you,” Kendra dared to push.
“As I said, no one is without a history.” Determination solidified in the senator’s gaze once more despite the uncertainty quavering in his voice. “But I will not allow ancient history to destroy my family or to derail what is best for the citizens of this great nation. That I can promise you.”
“Is Aleesha Ferguson one of those mistakes?” Rocky asked.
“Yes.”
Anticipation whipped through Kendra. “Then it is possible that there could be some truth to the theory that your wife was involved with her death.”
“Sharon doesn’t have the stomach for harming another human being, much less ending a life. She knows nothing about that tragic mistake of mine.”
“Someone knows,” Rocky countered. “Otherwise we wouldn’t.”
Another weighted pause. “I can’t see how that’s possible when no one knew,” Castille insisted. “Absolutely no one.”
“What about my replacement? Grant Roper?” Kendra ventured. “Is he aware of these threats and any basis, however flimsy?”
“Grant fully supports the bill,” Castille assured her. “He would not jeopardize this opportunity. What purpose would it serve? With any notoriety I gain, he is sure to gain, as well.”
And yet, he had jeopardized that opportunity. Kendra had seen the photos. “Does he know anything about your involvement with Ferguson?”
“That’s not possible,” Castille vowed. “No one knows. This is frivolous nonsense exhumed and redecorated by those who wish to keep intact the self-serving veil of secrecy. The Transparency Bill would lift that veil once and for all.”
“This has gone far beyond frivolous nonsense, Senator,” Kendra reminded. “Yoni is dead. Aleesha Ferguson is dead.”
“What happens,” Rocky interjected, “if you’re next on that list?”
Chapter Twelve
9:30 a.m.
“What now?”
Kendra dropped her head against the seat. Castille had driven away with Rocky’s warning still echoing in the thick air.
What happens if you’re next on that list?
The morning, like the situation, was shaping up to be a hot, muggy one. Whether it was the heat or the tension, Kendra’s instincts were humming. This—whatever this was—was racing to a climax.
Yoni was dead. Aleesha Ferguson was dead. Mrs. Castille had gone into hiding. Grant Roper had tossed aside his loyalty to the senator. His motives so far from clear that she needed a spotlight and a magnifying glass to even attempt to decipher them.
The senator insisted three of his enemies had spearheaded an effort to kill his bill. Kendra had chosen not to mention her meeting with Roper as a precaution. If the senator was responsible for Yoni’s murder—which she highly doubted—Kendra wasn’t about to be responsible for anyone else being added to his hit list.
Then there was Wayne. He was up to his neck in this somehow. But how?
“I want to talk to Wayne again.” Kendra wasn’t sure what she hoped to accomplish, but they had to start somewhere “After that we’ll track down Grant Roper again.”
“How about,” Rocky said as he started the engine, “we get Patsy T. to run down the relevant details about Sharon Castille’s car and check with the various vehicle repair shops in the Alexandria area. It’ll take some time but if Castille mowed down a pedestrian, there would have been damage to the car.”
Absolutely! “That could be why she went out of town last month, assuming she left after the second of June.” Sheer conjecture. Damn it. She needed something concrete! All these theories were leading them nowhere.
Rocky pulled out his cell phone and put through the call. Kendra suffered a twinge of jealousy at his easy way of talking to Patsy. He smiled as he listened to her responses. Did he have a thing for Patsy? Then why had he kissed Kendra last night? Held her in his arms the entire night?
She closed her eyes and shook off the ridiculous thoughts. They were colleagues, partners on this case. She had no right to be jealous or anything other than thankful for his backup on this case.
He closed the phone and dropped it on the console. “Patsy’s on it. She’ll call us with anything she finds.”
“Excellent.” Kendra focused front and center. She swallowed back the foolish, foolish adolescent reaction. “I’ll check in with Wayne’s office. Try to find out where he is this morning.”
“Meanwhile,” Rocky offered as she entered Wayne’s number into her cell, “I’ll hit a drive-through. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
“That’d be great.” Kendra waited through a ring. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.” Finally on the thi
rd ring the division operator picked up and recited the practiced greeting.
A half minute later Kendra closed her phone. “He’s in a meeting until around ten-thirty. If he comes out before we get there she’ll have him call me. We’ll figure out a time and place then.”
Rocky made an agreeable sound.
He stopped at a fast-food restaurant and they ate inside the car in the parking lot. Not two words passed between them. What was worse, she couldn’t meet his eyes.
Once they were back on the road, the silence continued. Kendra stared at the passing landscape in an attempt to suspend the mounting awkwardness. First thing this morning she’d understood that momentary unease. But now…she hadn’t anticipated having to fight it again. Had to be her. She’d never been good at interacting with the opposite sex on an intimate level.
“You want to talk about it?”
Apprehension spread through her limbs, emanating from her chest like spilled coffee. “We have a plan. What’s to talk about?” Frustration twisted in her belly. Her voice held that high-pitched anxiety-ridden quality.
“We kissed. Had a moment, so to speak. It was…nice.”
She moistened her lips. Nice. Definitely. “But it was out of line.” Might as well put that one on the table. They were colleagues working an investigation. Allowing that kind of personal interaction was inappropriate. And, honestly, maybe he would change the subject.
“Yeah, you’re right. Definitely out of line,” he agreed.
“It was…nice though,” she felt compelled to say.
More of that crushing silence.
So…he thought it was it was out of line. She’d said the same, but it felt somehow worse hearing it from him. Could she glean from his statement that the moment, as he called it, meant nothing to him? Other than…nice?
Why did she expect a mere kiss would mean anything to a guy like Rocky? Just because she had no sex life didn’t mean he had foregone his physical needs. She’d been so busy recreating her career she’d completely ignored any semblance of a social life. Now somehow she was utterly out of practice.
“This is probably going to be out of line, as well,” Rocky said, breaking the mini-eternity of silence. “But I’d like to do it again sometime.”
Her heart bumped against her sternum as another rush of heat flowed inside her, this one emerging from her belly button and cascading downward.
Confusion abruptly cooled the warmth his words had generated. She kept her attention straight ahead, didn’t dare look at him. Was she, in his opinion, just another sexual conquest? Would getting involved with a coworker be a mistake? What if things didn’t work out? That could be incredibly awkward.
If she agreed, would he think she was needy?
“We should probably give the idea lengthy consideration before making a decision.” She winced. Her explanation hadn’t exactly come out the way she’d intended. “I mean, there could be difficulties—”
“Agreed.”
She replayed the single word over and over in her head. Tried to analyze his tone. Curt? Irritated? Matter-of-fact? More silence.
Her cell phone vibrated. Thank God. “Kendra Todd.” She was so relieved for the distraction she didn’t bother checking the caller ID on the screen.
“You gave me your card.”
Delilah? “Yes.” Kendra held her breath, prayed this would be a viable break in the case.
“Kendra Todd? The sister Aleesha never had?”
Kendra closed her eyes and nodded. “That’s me. This is Delilah, right?” Her gaze collided with Rocky’s.
“I have stuff to tell you…but…”
More of that coughing Kendra had heard last night rattled across the connection. The woman needed to give up the cigarettes.
“I need money to get out of town.”
“Just tell me where to meet you and how much money you need and I’ll be there.”
“The Smithsonian. A thousand bucks.”
“Thirty minutes. I can be there in thirty minutes,” Kendra assured her, not wanting to spook her or to put the meeting off any longer than absolutely necessary.
“Two thousand bucks,” Delilah said quickly. “I’ll be at the main entrance.”
The connection ended.
“She wants to talk,” Kendra said in answer to Rocky’s questioning look. “And two thousand dollars.” Damn it. One thousand was Kendra’s daily ATM withdrawal limit. “We may have to combine our resources.” Of course it would all end up on the expense report anyway.
“No problem.”
He didn’t look at her this time. Kendra wondered if he was ticked off by her noncommittal response to…to more of those hot, wild kisses. Her blood heated as memories bombarded her.
She needed to figure this out. Later…when they’d solved a couple of murders.
10:15 a.m.
“THAT’S HER.” KENDRA DIRECTED Rocky’s attention to the skinny blonde sprawled on the front steps, a cigarette dangling from her lips.
“She looks ready to hit the road,” Rocky commented. A backpack sat at their target’s feet. A long, thin strap looped around her neck, holding a small purse against her hip. The T-shirt, ragged jeans and flip-flops allowed her to blend in with the dozens of teens drifting in and out of one of D.C.’s most esteemed tourist attractions. Come to think of it, Kendra looked younger than usual in her jeans and tee. She looked more relaxed than she had a right to under the circumstances.
He liked her in jeans.
“She said she needed to get out of town.”
Rocky snapped back to attention.
Kendra considered the woman a moment. “Guess she wasn’t exaggerating.”
Delilah looked up when they neared. As if suspecting someone might be watching or that they might have sold her out, she immediately surveyed the crowd. When her gaze fixed on Rocky and Kendra again her eyes were wide with worry or fear.
Kendra sat down on one side of her. Rocky leaned against the stair handrail, keeping an eye out for anyone coming too close.
“You okay?” Kendra asked her.
“No way.” Delilah looked around, clearly nervous. “After that thing at the café some dude chased me for three blocks. I wouldn’t have lost him at all if I hadn’t run into a friend who picked me up.”
Worry claimed Kendra’s face. Rocky understood that she likely felt responsible.
“You have some additional information for me?” Kendra asked, her words careful.
“Aleesha said,” Delilah drew in a big breath, “the senator was her ticket to a better life. He promised her big bucks. But I guess his wife didn’t want to share. She and that guy killed Aleesha. I saw it. He ran into her on purpose. I saw it with my own eyes.”
“Were you drinking that night?” Rocky asked without looking down. He’d spotted a guy in the crowd that had his instincts moving to a higher state of alert. “Drugs? Anything that might have altered your perception?”
“No way, man. I’m clean. I don’t do any of that stuff. Aleesha got me clean.”
“Where were you when the accident occurred?” Kendra asked gently.
“We was talking on the sidewalk.” Delilah shrugged. “The night was done. When Aleesha crossed the street to go to her place headlights came on and that white car raced toward her like the driver had been waiting for her to show. I screamed…but Aleesha was like paralyzed or something. Then…” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Her body just kind of flew through the air. I won’t never forget that sound when she hit the street.”
Rocky’s jaw tightened with anger. Did the senator or his wife or both think they could get away with this? Just because Ferguson had been a hooker didn’t mean she was any less than human.
“What did you do then?” Kendra prodded softly.
“I ran into the street to help her…. I was crying so hard I couldn’t see. My heart felt like it was gonna explode. She wouldn’t wake up. I kept shaking her. Then I got my cell phone to call 911, but the car came back.” She looked
from Rocky to Kendra. “They would’ve run over me if I hadn’t got out of the way in time.”
“Did you call 911?” Rocky asked.
Delilah shook her head. “I shoulda but I was afraid they’d come after me if they got a good look at me. I been keeping a low profile ever since.” She dropped her head. “She was dead anyway.”
Kendra’s eyes met Rocky’s. Until they had invaded her street Delilah had stayed under the enemy’s radar. Their actions had gotten her noticed again.
“Was Senator Castille having an affair with Aleesha?” Kendra asked.
Rocky was aware Kendra was having trouble accepting that idea, but confirming one way or the other was imperative.
Delilah shrugged. “She wouldn’t tell me. Said it was too dangerous. She had to keep it a big secret.”
Kendra and Rocky exchanged another look.
“I need that money,” Delilah said. “I gotta get outta here or they’ll kill me.”
Kendra placed a hand on Delilah’s. “We’re going to make sure you’re safe. Don’t worry about that.”
“I just need the money.”
“I know you’re afraid,” Kendra soothed. “We have your money. If you read my card you know we work for a private investigations agency in Chicago. We’re going to take you to the airport and send you there. One of our associates will meet you at the airport and ensure you’re taken care of until this is over.”
“I…I don’t know…”
Rocky offered his hand to the frightened woman. “Come on. You’ll be safe with us.”
Delilah’s gaze met his, hers filled with terror. “What if they find me?”
“They won’t find you,” he promised. “You can trust the Colby Agency.”
Delilah stood, hauled her backpack up onto her skinny shoulder. Kendra got up, wrapped her arm around Delilah’s. “Have you ever been to Chicago?”
“Nope.”
“You’ll love it,” Kendra assured her. “The Colby Agency has an amazing safe house right on the water. Anything you want to eat. Clothes. It’ll be like a vacation only you don’t have to pay and you get anything you need. You can keep your money for your fresh start later.”
