“Home, with my kids. I left as soon as they announced that there’d be a state of emergency declared. I didn’t want to be caught out in the storm.”
“And this can be confirmed by friends or neighbors?”
He thought about that for a moment. “I think I saw my neighbor, Ted, pull into his driveway, but I’m not sure. You can ask my wife, though.”
She’d do that. “Can you tell me anything at all about Jennifer Blake? What she was like, in the office and out?”
Oates leaned back in his chair. “Well, in the office she was the consummate professional. Always on time, always on the ball. She was totally committed to getting Todd elected. Out of the office?” He shrugged. “Who knows? I didn’t really see her outside of her working capacity. We didn’t exactly run in the same circles.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, she was friends with Todd, while I was just the accountant. Meaning, she went to balls and parties and cocktail hours, while I went home to my wife and kids.”
“And were you jealous of her success?”
“Success?” His eyebrows rose. “No. I wouldn’t call what she had success.” When Beth frowned, he continued. “To me, success is heading home to my wife and kids at a decent hour but still being able to make the mortgage payment. I don’t want to work eighteen-hour days while my wife takes the kids to soccer. I want to be the one driving them all. Jennifer wanted... Well. Who knows what she wanted, but I doubt it was the stable family life I’ve got. I don’t think she went home often enough to really have a home.”
“Fair enough.” Beth made a few notes. “Any rumors or innuendos you may have heard attached to her name?”
Beth glanced up from her notebook and caught the look of disapproval on Oates’s face. “I don’t listen to gossip, Ms. Rand, especially anything that comes out of the mouths of the likes of Kensington and Grahame. Kensington was annoyed that she turned him down, and Grahame was annoyed that Kensington asked.”
She didn’t really agree with him about Ms. Grahame, but from the expression on his face he wasn’t going to talk about anything outside Jennifer’s professional life, not without some serious proof, anyway. “That was the impression I got. I just needed to confirm it. Thank you.” Beth settled back in her chair. “How did you interact with Mrs. Blake?”
“Jennifer often requested financial files from my office for legal purposes. Sometimes she’d want to have proof ready of exactly where a campaign contribution had come from, what it was being used for, and that it did not exceed any legal limits imposed by the government. She wanted no hint of scandal to attach itself to Todd’s campaign. She was extremely anal about that, despite the fact that we have a couple more months to go before it becomes a real issue. Part of me admired that dedication to Todd just as part of me cursed her out for the unnecessary paperwork.”
Beth made another note, nodding. “When was the last time she asked for those financial sheets?”
He grimaced. “Funny you should mention that. She asked for them three days before she died, and I’ve been unable to locate any of them since then. I think she may have still had them on her when she was killed.”
“How far back did the information go?”
“She asked for the financials dating back to the first of August.”
Beth felt herself growing excited. “Do you have copies of that data?”
To her chagrin, Oates shook his head no. “The redundant files got stolen the day after her death. In fact, Todd was the one who reported the theft, since his office is where those files were stored.”
Interesting. Beth made some quick notes to get Dante to pull those police files. “Electronic backups?”
“Wiped, and I’m not sure how it was done.” Mr. Oates sighed wearily. “In fact, that’s what I was working on when you came in here. Somehow, someone in this office got to those copies before I could.”
Beth tapped her pen against her notebook, trying to hide her excitement. “You don’t say.”
Now they were on to something.
* * *
Half an hour with Mrs. Messinger and Dante was ready to pull his hair out. She’d absolutely refused to discuss anything real. She’d offered him cookies and coffee when he questioned her about Blessing. She’d asked him whether or not he had children when he mentioned Blake, making sympathetic noises about how all of this must be affecting Blake’s young daughter. He was about to throw in the towel when Elizabeth joined him, looking far too smug for his liking.
Before he took her out to lunch he had to ask one final question. “Is there anything else you can tell me about Mrs. Blake, ma’am?”
Mrs. Messinger shook her head sadly. “Oh my, no, Detective, I wish I did know something.”
Damn it. It was like pulling teeth from his nana. Every time she offered him a cookie or shot him a disappointed glare he wanted to squirm in his seat like a guilty little boy.
Elizabeth tapped her pencil on her pad. “What do you know about the break-in the day after Mrs. Blake died, Mrs. Messinger?”
Mrs. Messinger looked flustered. “Break-in?”
Apparently Elizabeth’s grandmother wasn’t the grandmotherly sort, because she wasn’t falling for the guilt trip the way he had. She snapped open her notebook, ready to decimate the nice little old lady. “Yes. The break-in where all of the financial files were stolen right out of Mr. Blessing’s office. The one he himself reported to the police the day after Mrs. Blake died. That break-in.”
Dante watched a battle of wills occur between the two women. He held himself perfectly still, his hunter’s instincts telling him that if he so much as twitched Elizabeth would lose vital information they needed to solve this case.
He saw the moment when Mrs. Messinger conceded defeat. Her shoulders drooped, and her expression turned sour. “Mr. Blessing walked in that morning to find that his office had been rifled, but it wasn’t just the financial records that were taken. I’m not sure what all was missing, but he was very distraught. He called the police in and told them what had happened. That’s how we found out Mrs. Blake had been murdered. But I don’t know anything else. Mr. Blessing kept the door closed while he spoke with police.” Mrs. Messinger shot him an annoyed glance, like the fact that she’d cracked under Elizabeth’s stare was his fault. “You can check the officer’s notes.”
“Thank you. You’ve certainly been a big help.” Elizabeth smiled, but the expression didn’t reach her eyes. “When will Mr. Blessing be back in the office?”
“I believe he’s stepped out for some lunch after his morning appointment. He should be returning in about an hour and a half.”
“Please tell him that we’ll wish to speak to him then.”
“Mr. Blessing has a very busy schedule. I’m not certain when he’ll be available to speak with you.” Mrs. Messinger smiled with total insincerity.
Dante decided to step in at that point. “This is a murder investigation. We want everything to go smoothly, with,” he added as her face filled with indignation, “as little bad publicity as possible for the candidate.”
She blinked. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Elizabeth smiling cynically. She knew exactly what he was up to. He just hoped that his idea worked, and Mrs. Messinger backed down.
He was lucky. The dragon guarding her knight stopped breathing fire. “I’ll pencil you in at two this afternoon. Would that be convenient for you?” She was all business, already marking their names in Blessing’s calendar book.
“Yes, that would be fine.” He placed his card on her desk. She barely glanced at it.
He and Elizabeth turned away, heading toward the door of the campaign office. “Want lunch? I’m buying.”
Elizabeth looked up at him in surprise. “Aren’t we already doing dinner?”
He shrugged. “We both have to kill time until Bl
essing is available. Why not do lunch?”
She shrugged, wary. “No reason not to, I guess.”
She held open the campaign office’s door for him. He smiled at the small gesture. He knew it for what it was. She was flush with success and asserting her dominance. “I gather that Cranston wasn’t in? Or did the interview with both of them take up so little of your time?”
She glowered at him as the door shut softly behind her. “He was out to lunch. Maybe we’ll get lucky and run into him.”
Despite the thick winter coat her hips swayed temptingly. “Yup. Maybe we’ll get lucky.” Dante held open the car door for her, amused at her confused frown. She slid into the seat, and Dante knew in that moment he wanted to keep her right where she was.
He closed the car door and hurried behind the car, staring at her dark head the entire time. When she waved at him impatiently he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He found even that little gesture adorable.
Wait. Adorable?
He stopped dead, his hand on the handle of the car, and sighed as she gestured for him to hurry the hell up. “I am so very fucked.”
* * *
He took her to the Golden Lotus, one of her favorite restaurants. It was a place she and her friends often ate lunch at. She’d seen him in there once or twice when she ate with her friends, so maybe it was a coincidence he’d chosen it.
Of course, when dealing with Dante, she figured there were no coincidences. He must want her to feel comfortable before doing whatever it was he’d plotted.
“You learned about the break-in from Oates?” Dante asked once they’d ordered.
“Oh. What a brilliant piece of detective work, Detective. Is that why they pay you the big bucks?” She batted her lashes at him in true Candy Grahame fashion.
He picked up his water glass and drank half of it. “One more crack like that and we’re eating Dutch.”
Damn. How did he make her smile so often? He hid it well, but he had a good sense of humor, one she wouldn’t mind seeing more of. “You learn anything from Mrs. Messinger?”
“Other than she makes a mean peanut butter cookie? Nope.”
“And you didn’t save any for me?” She tried her best to look outraged, but she didn’t think she’d pulled it off because he suddenly grinned at her.
“At my dinner table, you snooze, you lose.”
“I’ll keep that in mind at dinner tonight.” Beth glanced over at the doorway when she caught sight of a familiar red coat.
Oh shit.
Two of her best friends had just entered the restaurant. They paused and stared at her, shock on both of their faces before Andi nudged Sam. Their gazes bounced between her and Dante, unholy glee lighting their faces.
She glared at them for a split second before turning back to Dante with a bland smile.
Dante looked over his shoulder at the doorway. “Uh-oh.” He ducked a bit in his seat, trying to make himself look smaller. An impossible feat, considering his bulk. “I know those two.”
Those two were Andrea Hancock, Piotr Romanov’s personal assistant, and Samantha Brody. Sam and Andi were her closest friends, something that still surprised her. They’d stand by her no matter what. Hell, they’d help her bury the bodies if she finally decided to lose her damn mind and off her parents.
She wished she could tell them about what had happened with Abby. She needed them, their advice, their concern. Even Sam’s quirky way of always looking on the bright side would make things so much better.
But Abby had sworn her to secrecy, and while Beth understood that this involved Seth’s safety, she still didn’t like it. It felt wrong not to share what had happened with Andi and Sam.
“Beth, Detective Zucco. What a pleasant surprise.” Andi couldn’t hide her interest as well as she thought she did. She might fool others with her cool looks and exotic beauty, but Beth knew Andi. The woman was about to die of curiosity. The brown-haired beauty sat next to Dante, her unusual turquoise eyes alight with curiosity. Andi was far too genteel to ask what they’d just walked in on.
At least, she was too genteel to ask while Dante was sitting there. Beth wouldn’t be surprised to find herself with a visitor in the near future. For all her sophistication, Andi was a twelve-year-old girl at heart.
A tom-boy too. Something that would surprise anyone who didn’t know Andi well. With her sleek, sophisticated hairstyle and her impeccable wardrobe, most thought she was nothing more than Piotr Romanov’s arm candy.
If only they knew. Andi could run rings around most people, figuratively and literally.
Sam merely smiled shyly at the detective and wiggled her fingers hello. “Hi, Dante.”
Dante reacted the way most men did when confronted with the ethereal Sam. He smiled gently before handing her a menu, just as eager to please and protect her as any other man. “Sam. It’s nice to see you again. How’s the job hunt going?”
Sam made an adorable face, pursing her lips and blowing a raspberry. If Beth didn’t know better she’d swear Sam had come straight from the pages of some magical girl manga. “Meh. I had a job interview, but I’m waiting to hear back.” Her shoulder-length golden-blond hair gleamed in the shaft of sunlight from the window next to them. Her delicate hands rested lightly on the tabletop. “I’m hoping the salary will be at least a match for what I made at Wyatt Industries.”
Dante jolted in his seat. Beth knew why too. It was the mention of Wyatt Industries, the company run by one of his friends. “That would be great.” Beth truly hoped Sam got the job. She’d been out of work ever since being summarily fired from Wyatt. The reason given had been down-sizing, but Beth wasn’t buying it. There’d been a hush-hush investigation, then... no more job. Sam had gotten several interviews, and with her skills she should have landed a job by now, even at a lower pay rate.
Instead, she did freelance work for people like Beth.
Andi must have figured out something was going on, because she leaned forward and began to speak solely to Dante. “So, detective. What’s the craziest case you’ve ever worked?”
Dante shot Beth a quick, irritated glance, but when she didn’t rescue him he sighed. “This one time we had a guy show up at the precinct in nothing but honey and feathers...”
Beth suspected that someone at Wyatt Industries was giving Sam a bad reference, but there was no way to prove it. She spoke softly, hoping Dante didn’t hear. Damien was a friend of his, but Sam was hers. “You should keep Wyatt off your resume if this one doesn’t pan out.”
Sam immediately shook her head. “That would be lying.”
“Nope. Just tell people you were doing freelance work due to the economy. That’s not a lie, is it?”
“But...” Sam bit her lip. “You think I can’t get a job because of Wyatt?”
“...then he told the desk sergeant that his mama wore combat boots...”
Beth blinked, determined to ignore Dante’s outrageous story. “I’m almost certain of it.” Beth’s instincts were rarely wrong. Sam had no problems finding jobs before Wyatt. After...
She couldn’t get a job as a grocery bagger.
“...then he mentioned the badger chasing him down Old Baltimore Pike...”
What the hell? Beth almost allowed herself to be distracted, but Sam’s puppy eyes kept her focused.
Sam bit her lip nervously. “All right. I’ll kick Wyatt off my resume if this job interview doesn’t work out.”
“Good.” Beth relaxed once more. Sam was sweet-natured and deserved to find happiness. “I might have some work for you soon.”
“And that was my first trip to the psych ward.” Dante leaned back, grinning as Andi giggled.
“Oh. Good.” Sam seemed relieved.
Beth stared at Sam. That soft, dreamy smile hid a mind like a steel trap when it came to computers. Sam cou
ld get lost for hours digging up obscure bits of data that no one else was capable of finding.
She decided to have a little chat with Sam after the Blessing interview. Maybe her friend could find something she couldn’t. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d asked for Sam’s help on a case. Plus, she was willing to bet Sam could use the money.
“Trust me, Sammie. I think the job interview is going to work out just fine.” Andi patted Sam’s hand and ignored Beth’s curious gaze. “So, detective, what are you two up to, hmm?”
“Trying to catch the bad guys, ma’am,” Dante said in his best lawman’s drawl. He even tipped his non-existent hat at her friends.
Andi laughed in delight. “I do love me a man in uniform.”
“The Blake murder?” Sam asked quietly, her gaze intent on Dante’s face. “We heard about it on the news.” She turned her worried gaze to Beth. “When we heard about where it happened we were worried about you.”
Beth patted Sam’s hand. Sam could be annoying with her dreamy ways, but she wouldn’t hurt a fly, and she loved her friends deeply. She was loyal to the bone, and Beth treated her like the kid sister she’d never had. “I’m fine, Sammie.” Beth winked at Sam. “But don’t ask me to discuss it with you. I can’t.” Not yet, anyway. At least, not with Dante sitting right here. There was no need for the lovely detective to know anything about Sammie’s hacking skills.
“Mmm. Not a very good lunch topic.” Andi grinned with delight as the waiter began placing the dishes in front of them. He must have seen them sitting with Dante and Beth and prepared the usual meal the women ordered. “I love this place.” Andi sighed happily, picked up her chopsticks and began digging into her moo goo gai pan with relish.
Beth pulled out her notebook, absently writing down the things she needed Sam to do for her, and how much she’d be able to pay her friend. Looking into the missing Blessing campaign funds would be a good start. Beth often tossed work Sam’s way, but she knew it wasn’t enough to keep Sam in dog kibble. She was afraid Sam really would do something illegal just to put food on her table. Sam was getting dangerously thin, even on good days.
The Fire Within Page 6
