SARA WATCHED BEVERLY HEAD INTO a Starbucks. She wanted to ignore the warning in the back of her mind that cautioned not to go in after her until Sean arrived.
She noticed the random glimpses of the driver in the rearview mirror. No doubt he wondered why they were just sitting there. She divided her attention between him and Starbucks. Jordan Reid could be inside already. What’s to say he hadn’t gotten there first? But she had promised Sean she’d wait on him. He shouldn’t be too far behind.
“What’s your name?” she asked the driver.
His blue eyes reappeared in the mirror. “Marcus.”
“I’m Sara McKinley.”
“McKinley?” Crease lines spread out from his eyes.
Sara looked back to Starbucks and she saw him—Jordon Reid was heading toward the door, wearing a thigh-length trench coat paired with jeans.
“We can stay here all day if you’d like, Mrs. McKinley.”
“No, that’s fine.” She reached for the handle.
“As you wish. Good day. Nice to meet you.”
“You too. Thank you.” She got out of the car hoping for Sean’s arrival. She didn’t have to wait long.
He wanted to hold her when he saw her standing on the sidewalk. It was like spying fresh water in the middle of a desert. He couldn’t help but jog a little to get to her faster. “What do you know?”
She nodded her head toward Starbucks. “They’re both inside.”
“It looks crowded.”
“A Starbucks in New York City, do you think they ever experience a slow time?”
“Good point.”
“Just be careful.”
She pulled back on his arm. “Please stop saying that.”
It was written in her eyes. He was insulting her. “Sorry.”
“No, you don’t have to be sorry for caring. Just know I’m always careful, and even more so these days because I have so much to live for.” She tapped a hurried kiss to his cheek and headed inside.
He followed behind and spotted the couple right away. Too bad they spotted them too.
Jordan shot to his feet.
Sara turned. “He’s got a gun!”
There was a bunch of screaming and people pushing their way past him to the front doors.
Sean gestured with a brush of his hand for everyone to get out. For Jordan to react so quickly, Sean and Sara must have allowed just enough time for Beverly to fill Jordan in about the uncertainty with the USB stick.
“It doesn’t have to be like this, Jordan,” Sean said.
“How do you know my name?”
Sara took a few steps toward them, as Beverly took up position behind Jordan.
“That’s not important.”
“Yes it is!”
“Your family runs Reid Incorporated.”
“So what?” Jordan’s gun hand wavered in the air. He wasn’t accustomed to holding one. They could use that to their advantage.
A woman came out of the bathroom, which was located behind Jordan and Beverly, and she began yelling and crying as she rushed past them.
“You don’t want to kill anyone,” Sean said.
“How would you know?”
Sean took a couple steps and stopped behind Sara, who had stopped moving.
“Just shoot them,” Beverly barked into Jordan’s ear.
He cupped his ear and turned on her. “Shut up!”
That distraction was all that Sean needed. He hurtled toward Jordan and squeezed the wrist of the hand that held the gun. He heard it drop to the floor, then glanced back to ensure Sara got it. He spun around, only to meet with a fist to the face. He retaliated, punching Jordan’s sides, but he shimmied and bucked, left and right, reducing the effectiveness of the blows.
The man was almost ten years younger, yet Sean’s muscles were fired up and ready to work.
Another swing nearly connected with Sean’s head, but he lowered just in time. He waited for Sara to get the gun. It wasn’t happening fast enough. He struggled to look at her, between blocking blows and dishing some out.
Then, Sara and Beverly were on the floor, grabbing each other’s hair. Sara was on the bottom, but then the status quo flipped and had her on top. Gasps of squeals came from Beverly as her purse emptied across the floor.
He turned back to have Jordan’s fist meet with his gut. It instantaneously doubled Sean over—the wind knocked out of him by the swiftness of the impact. He forced himself to straighten and gather strength to return the favor.
When Sean’s body refused to resume full height, he barreled into Jordan, head-ramming him in the abdomen, knocking him into a nearby table. Jordan let out a howl as he crashed into it and fell to the floor.
Sean moved over him, fist raised and ready to deliver, when Jordan kicked his legs out from beneath him. He went down—hard.
“Stop right there.”
He heard the click of the gun and smiled, knowing there was no other woman he’d entrust with the weapon more than his Sara. He looked at her, holding it, ready to fire, and his eyes went to the floor where Beverly was trying to reach a pill bottle that had spilled from her purse.
“Let me help you with that.” Sean swooped down ahead of her, read the label, and then held it for Sara to see.
“Sleeping pills.”
Sirens sounded outside the coffee shop. The cruisers came to an abrupt halt, the noses of the cars diving forward with momentum from the sudden stop.
The door to the coffee shop flung open and three officers rushed in, guns at the ready.
“Put down your weapon!”
Sara responded immediately, placing the gun on the floor and raising her arms in surrender.
They were taken down to the station and questioned, but it wasn’t long and they were released to the freedom of the streets. They walked along the sidewalk. Sean glanced over at Sara and smiled.
“What?” she said.
“Just you.”
“Just me? Look at you. Your poor nose always takes the brunt of things. How is it?”
“Tender.”
“I bet.” She nuzzled into his side and rubbed his arm. “Maybe we should take a vacation.”
He pulled away from her. “A vacation? And miss all this fun?”
“I was just thinking.”
“You know we live for this, but we can take time off, here and there.”
“Uh-huh.” She laughed.
A silence followed, and Sean felt inclined to fill it. He owed her an apology for the way he’d treated her, both on the case in Cancun and here. “Darling.”
“Yes, Sean.”
“You’re right about the way I treat you. It’s like you’re a china doll.”
She stopped walking. “You have that tendency.”
“I’m sorry for that. I just love you.”
“Yes, and I love you. That’s not the issue.”
He had a hard time speaking from the heart. It wasn’t one of the things that came easily or naturally to him. “What I’m trying to say is, I trust you.”
She laughed. “I just took on a psychotic killer and I won. That’s all it took?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” He laughed and she narrowed her eyes.
Cognac Kisses
THEY WERE PACKING THINGS UP at the condo when there was a knock on the door. Sean opened it to Edward Cranston.
“Do you mind if I come in?” he asked.
“Not all.” Sean opened the door wider.
Sara came around the corner and smiled at their visitor. “You didn’t have to come see us off.”
“Nonsense.” Edward fidgeted with the leather gloves he held in his hands. He gestured to the seating area.
“Yeah, of course,” Sean said.
Edward wiped his shoes and then took them off.
“I’m just thankful that Mr. Quinn left everything to you, Sean. He always had a great eye and a way of seeing people.” He smiled and sat in the sofa chair. “Beverly’s going to be in prison for a long time.”
“Yes, she is, and so is Jordan Reid. His family won’t be far behind.”
Police recovered Cindy’s USB stick and the documentation contained on it would see to that.
Edward nodded. “All of this was over money.”
“Sometimes money is murder.” The words slipped from Sara’s mouth.
“Isn’t it? And look at you two.” He jabbed a finger and went between them with it. “You inherit the world—essentially—and get a murder to solve. Are you ever going to retire?”
Sean glanced at Sara, who was grinning at him. He thought back on this investigation. Beverly had been in the thick of everything. Jordan had convinced her that his love, and his money, would make any problems she had go away, when, in fact, all he did was spurn her on to kill two people. If the matching sleeping pills weren’t enough, the signature on Cindy’s suicide note had been identical to the one printed from her computer and it was feasible Beverly would have had access to the file. She tried to divert their path by warning Robert of their arrival, knowing he’d make a run for it and lead her right to what she sought. While Jordan did come through with bribery money, Sean didn’t think it had anything to do with protecting Beverly. It also seemed likely that he was the one behind the file deletion and the diversion to make it look like it traced back to Robert’s apartment.
Detective Benson was being investigated by Internal Affairs and had already met with a suspension, which would likely result in the loss of his badge. Both he and Percy, the doorman, were charged as accessories after the fact. Yet, with all the betrayal and deception, he and Sara had sorted through all of it and brought justice to a woman who’d had her life stolen. He couldn’t imagine life any other way, but he also had Sara to consider.
He took her hand as they sat on the couch. “Guess we’ll see what the future holds.”
“I have something to say and it’s going to be tough. I haven’t known you for long, but I’m fond of you both,” Edward began. “I’ve decided to leave Universal.”
He dropped the phrase out there and, despite the fact they didn’t know him well, and had even suspected him of a murder conspiracy not long ago, there was a connection.
“I hope you haven’t decided this because—”
“It has nothing to do with Cindy’s death, or Robert’s. Well, maybe it does, but I’m going to stick with the fact it doesn’t. I’m getting older, and I want to live my life before it’s too late. I’ve put my best years into the company.”
“Your best years are yet to come,” Sara said. “And you will make them great.” She turned to Sean. “Bring us something to toast with, darling.” She smiled at Edward.
The hesitation that had saturated Edward’s aura dissipated into vapor, leaving behind a lighter quality to the energy of the room.
Sean walked back in with a bottle of cognac and three glasses. He poured some in each.
“To the best years, yet to come,” Sara toasted and they all clinked glasses.
Sean watched his wife as he took a draw on the cognac, then sat beside her again.
“What are you going to do?” Sara crossed her leg toward Edward.
“I’ve got some savings. I’ll probably head south for a bit, relax on a beach.”
Sean laughed.
Sara and Edward both turned to him as if to question his response.
“It didn’t turn out quite that way for us did it, darling,” Sean said.
“Oh, don’t bore Edward with the details.”
“Please do.” Edward took a mouthful of his drink. “Where did you go for your honeymoon? I never even thought to ask.”
“Cancun.”
“Aw, it’s beautiful there. You take your jet?”
Sean glanced at Sara, back to Edward. “My jet?”
“Yeah. You do know you have your own jet, don’t you? It should have been included with your inheritance information.”
Sara started laughing. “My baby here was in too much of a hurry to whisk me away.”
“I can’t say as I blame him.”
Sean was certain his mouth gaped open. “I have a jet.”
Sara took his hand. “No, darling. We have a jet.”
“I better get going.” Edward struggled to get up out of the deep pillows of the chair. “Good night.”
“Night.”
As the door clicked shut behind him, Sara lifted her glass toward Sean. “I didn’t know you brought a bottle with us.”
“There has to be some secrecy to me.” He kissed her lips and then he pulled back for a second. “You taste delicious.”
“You too—two hundred and fifty dollars’ worth anyway.”
“Oh, is that all?” He took her mouth again.
Home Sweet Home
HIS HOUSE HAD NEVER LOOKED so good to him. They had spent one last night in New York City, sipping on cognac and falling asleep in each other’s arms.
As they entered the house, the phone rang and Sara ran to answer.
Sean smiled at the sound of her heels tapping the floor. This was their home, at least for the time being—and being together is what made a building more than simply brick and mortar.
He dropped their luggage at the door and went to the office. They definitely needed more space than this. He would convince Sara, one way or another. He logged online and brought up the listings for the area. At least location was a set deal.
“Sean?”
“In the office, darling.”
She stood in the doorway. “That was my mother. They want to have us over for Easter dinner.”
He was listening to her, but his eyes fell on the image of the perfect house. He wasn’t prone to emotional response, but this photograph elicited one from him.
“Sean, are you listening to me?”
“That sounds really nice.” He didn’t take his eyes from the screen.
She came around to see what he was looking at and her hand covered her mouth. She left it there for a few seconds before dropping it. “That’s our home.”
“I think so.”
The house was light gray brick, almost like cobblestone, with a black roof. The picture had been taken in the summer months—the grass a lush green and the landscaping immaculate. The front door was oversized and oak. Images of the back side of the home showed some additions that were white siding, but it married perfectly with the main structure. A bay window overlooked a slate stone patio area and mature shrubbery accented the property. The pictures of the inside were beautiful too with a lot of ornate touches, such as crown molding, arched doorways, and high-ceilinged rooms with wood beams.
“Look at that bedroom.” Sara knelt beside Sean.
He offered to trade off and give her the chair, but she declined the offer.
“And that bathroom.” She looked over at him.
“It’s bigger than your apartment.” He laughed when he said it, the excitement bubbling up within.
“Oh, darling, look at this room.” She pointed to an image of a sitting area. It had three walls of windows, framed with dark wood trim that matched the hardwood flooring and appeared to be original to the house. A piano was off to the one side. “We’ll have to ask them to leave that.”
“The piano? I didn’t know you played.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” She smiled, her attention back on the screen. “Look, there’s also an in-ground pool and a gazebo. This is like looking at a dream, but one we’re meant to be a part of it. Let’s do it. Let’s go see it and make an offer.”
“On it.” He spotted the real estate agent and placed the call. As he listened to the line ring, he smiled. He wasn’t about to point out to her that the house had eight bedrooms and was over ninety-six hundred square feet. She’d find that out soon enough and, by then, it would be too late. She’d be in love and they’d have their new home.
The call was answered on the third ring.
“Yes, this is Sean McKinley, and I would like to see the house on…”
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Politics is Murder
Preview of Politics is Murder (McKinley Mysteries)
For Sean and Sara, a local television interview turns into a high-profile investigation. The host’s niece has gone missing—but the girl isn’t just anyone, she’s the daughter of Albany’s mayor.
Not knowing whether she’s run away, been kidnapped—or worse—murdered, Sean and Sara set out to get the answers. It will have them using all the resources at their disposal.
Preview of Politics is Murder (McKinley Mysteries)
Fifteen Minutes Of Fame
THE CAMERAMAN HELD UP HIS hand. “We’ll count it down. In three, two,” his arm lowered, “one.”
Sean squeezed Sara’s hand a little tighter and both of them smiled pleasantly to the host. Her name was Reanne Mable. Although she was famous in the local area, the show didn’t pick up the vast audience their appearance on USA Today and Newsweek had garnered.
While this would make their third on-camera interview, Sean’s nerves didn’t lessen with experience. Sara seemed to have it all under control, though, from her manicured nails to her designer dress. Even her nose didn’t shine under the bright lights casting down on her.
Reanne, a forty-five-year-old woman who hailed from Texas, carried her twang just as vibrantly today as she would have leaving the state. She smiled at the camera—a smile that was both sincere and enormous. Her skill was apparent, as it should be for a television veteran.
“Today we have a couple with us who are living proof that kind acts are rewarded—and graciously. Papers have said, ‘Watch out, Donald Trump.’ But before I go on any further, please welcome Sean and Sara McKinley to the show.”
“Thank you for having us.” Sean managed to blurt out the words, but his stomach swirled as if he had over-indulged in rich food. At least with a small station he didn’t have to worry about a live audience.
“Don’t mention it. It is our pleasure. On a personal note, it’s so nice to meet both of you. To hear the story about how you went from being one of Albany’s own, to overnight billionaires, it sounds like a fantasy movie.”
Carolyn Arnold - McKinley 03 - Money is Murder Page 9
