I tried not to cough when the words rolled out in a cloud of stale garlic.
Hadn’t brushed his teeth in a while either. Ick.
I fought the urge to recoil, worry plunging a sharp, stomping heel through disgust. “Kyle, you’re scaring me.” I tried to ration the words so I didn’t have to breathe in as much. “What is the matter with you?”
“I screwed up.” His eyes closed, his arms tightening around me the tiniest bit. “When I texted you yesterday. If I could take it back, I would—I should never have dragged you into this.”
I pulled my head back as far as I could. He opened his eyes.
Tears brightened the redness to zombie-movie levels.
I swallowed hard.
He was scared, too.
I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. I closed it again.
I forced a smile and tried again. “It’s not like I don’t have some experience playing in the big leagues. I can take care of myself.”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure I can even take care of you.”
One tear escaped and slid toward the scruff lining his lip and jaw. “I’m so sorry, Nicey.”
I swiveled my head, craning my neck as far as I could see in either direction, trying to catch my breath. It wasn’t like Kyle still saw me as his high school girlfriend. We’d been through some pretty serious shit together in the past couple of years.
Which meant whatever was going on here was way bigger than I’d dared to think. Bigger than Ted Grayson. Even bigger than Governor Baine. What the hell had Lakshmi stumbled into?
“It doesn’t seem there’s anything for it now, does it?” I tried for cheerful but missed the mark by so much I just sounded nauseous. “I know what I know—which is a lot more than I’ve heard from you, I might add—so why don’t you just go ahead and give up what you know about Hamilton Baine. Do you have a bead on where he is?”
He shook his head slowly, sniffling. “Nobody does.” He pulled in a deep breath. “Listen, I told you to come here so I could tell you one thing: get the hell out of Richmond. Full stop. Don’t pack, don’t call anyone, don’t tell me where you’re going. Just go. I’ll go get the dog. I can’t have you in the middle of this one.”
I squirmed, trying to take a step back. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Go. Not to your mother’s, and try not to use your credit cards.” He loosened his grip and I broke away, stumbling back over my heels until I was in the sun, staring into the shadows at my old friend.
“I have a job to do. A life. I can’t just take off on a whim.” I stammered over the words, my pulse rate fluttering like I was in the home stretch of the Suntrust Marathon.
“It’s not a whim.”
I furrowed my brow. What had changed in the past four hours? He wasn’t particularly chatty this morning, but he’d helped me get into the prison. And then commenced blowing up my phone. Something happened while I was talking with Angela, because I’d swear this was a body snatcher if I didn’t know every line of Kyle’s face so well. His hands closed over my wrist, tugging me back toward him. “Please, Nichelle.”
He had talked to someone. An interview was the only thing that explained the break in the insistent text messages, and his flip-the-hell-out about-face.
And I had a pretty good idea how to find out who.
I let him pull me back, Governor Baine and Mrs. Drake flashing through my head. I had promised to help find out what happened to their children. Not to mention the fact that I liked Lakshmi. If I bowed out, who would stop her death from being reduced to a side note in yet another political sex scandal? Not Charlie. For damned sure not Dan. Lakshmi would be objectified in some circles and outright demonized in others.
I had to know where Kyle had been. I hugged him, running my hands up and down his back before I locked my arms tight around his narrow waist.
He folded his lips between his teeth. “You don’t understand, dammit. This isn’t the time to fight for the story. Be stubborn next month. At least you’ll be alive for me to fight with.”
“It’s not about the headline. Not this time. It’s about the girl. I’m the only voice she has, Kyle. What good is staying alive if it comes at the expense of being able to live with myself?”
His breath spread warm across my scalp as he buried his face in my hair, tears falling fast as he crushed my shoulders. “So goddamned stubborn,” he whispered. “I love you, you know. Don’t forget that, no matter what, okay?”
I nodded, fluttering my lashes over the telltale pricking in the backs of my eyes as I stepped back. “I’m always careful.”
“You’re always lucky.” The words came out so soft I couldn’t have sworn in court what he said.
I squeezed his right hand with my left. “Looks like you could use a little luck on this one, too, Agent. Take care of yourself, you hear me? We’ll get dinner when it’s all over. My treat.”
He was still standing there, shaking his head, when I got in my car.
I turned the key and backed up, gunning it out of the lot and driving a few blocks before I pulled to the curbside under an orangey-yellow oak and opened my right hand.
“Stacy Adams,” I whispered to Kenny Chesney, who was singing about nowhere to go. “Commonwealth Energy Alliance. Let’s see if you can connect any of these pieces.”
My fingers curled tight around the card I’d lifted from Kyle’s back pocket when I hugged him, my throat closing around rising guilt. He always wore his pants too loose, and had a habit of palming cards when he did interviews and slipping them in his left hip pocket. The only explanation I had for the past twenty minutes was that somebody he’d talked to today had freaked him right the hell out, so I’d fished out the card trying to see who was behind his meltdown.
I was sure Kyle knew how to get ahold of Stacy again if he needed her. And maybe a sit-down with her would finally help part of this mess make sense.
I clicked my email open, looking for a reply from Angela Baker. Strike one.
Joey’s face popped up on the screen before I could decide what to check on next. I sighed, my eyes going to the clock. Ten to five, on Saturday. Nobody was still in the office. And I couldn’t keep ignoring him.
“Hey.” I managed to keep my voice from shaking as I put the phone to my ear. “Sorry it’s so late. What’s going on there?”
“Starting to get a little worried about you. I’m not exactly used to sitting by while you go chase killers. You about ready to call it a day?”
Ah-ha. I hadn’t had an all-consuming story like this since he moved to Richmond, and he wasn’t really the stoke-the-home-fires type. I should call it a day.
“I need to write up a follow to shut Les up, but I can do that from anywhere. Where are you?”
“Still at your house.”
“Be there in ten.”
“I’ll open the wine. Drive safely.”
I clicked to my texts and touched Les’s name. Sending a follow on yesterday’s murder shortly. Watch your email, I tapped. Just because Charlie wasn’t my biggest problem didn’t mean I could ignore her.
Easing my foot off the gas, I took a right at the corner and let my brain wander back through the day as I navigated the tree-lined cobblestone streets, the dazzling yellows and oranges of the trees blurring into the gray of the buildings as the city zipped past my windows.
Sitting at a red light, I closed my eyes for a few beats, trying to sort a conclusion—or at least a theory or two—out of the tangled mess of information I’d taken in since this morning.
Kyle’s teary, worried face kept pushing through everything else, sending panicked butterflies flapping around my middle.
“He’s being overly cautious,” I mumbled, putting my foot back on the gas when the light changed. I wanted to believe it. But I wasn’t sure I did.
Something big was happening here. A senator devising heinous blackmail to get at science secrets. A dead woman who knew—in the Biblical sense—a whole bushel of powerful men. The governor’s missing
son—who had unfettered access to the murder scene and also worked in the science sector.
Not Lakshmi’s research, like I’d thought this time yesterday, but her dad’s. I turned into my driveway as the mission solidified: I just needed to know what Dr. Drake was working on. Because top secret energy science is easy to come by.
I climbed the steps and pushed the kitchen door open, smiling at the small bouquet of red and white roses in the center of the table. A plate of cheese and crackers sat next to it, two wineglasses completing the picture. My stomach rumbled, reminding me that my blueberry muffin was a long damned time ago.
“Hey,” I called, kicking my Manolos off and picking them up. “Anyone home?”
I padded down the hallway in bare feet, peeking into the living room. Joey was sitting on the floor, tugging one leg of Darcy’s favorite stuffed frog while she dug her toes into the rug, backing up and growling as she shook the toy by its head.
I smiled. “Y’all are so cute.”
Joey looked up, a grin spreading across his chiseled features. “She’s fun.”
“She’s spoiled rotten. But we like her that way.” I crossed the room in three long strides, dropping onto the thick, geometric-patterned rug next to him with a sigh. “The table looks nice.” I bumped my shoulder against his.
He pulled the toy away from Darcy and tossed it over her head, sending her skittering across the floor after it. Turning, he raised his good hand to cup my face. “I figured you didn’t eat much after you left here. How was the madam?”
I shook my head. “Don’t want to talk about it right now. Too much I’m still trying to process.” I leaned in to plant a soft kiss on his full lips. “Dinner?”
His jaw flexed so briefly I couldn’t swear I hadn’t imagined it before his lips tipped up at the corners. “I ordered Vito’s. When was the last time you went grocery shopping? All I could find in the kitchen was cheese, crackers, wine, and dog food.”
“The cheese should still be good. Beyond that, it’s a little fuzzy.”
He stood, pulling me up behind him in one fluid motion. “Let’s go see. Dinner will be here in about a half hour. Maybe some food will help you process faster.” He did a good job covering the worried undertone—anyone who didn’t know him like I did wouldn’t have noticed it.
I followed him to the kitchen, where he pulled a bottle of my favorite Italian Moscato from the fridge and poured it into the glasses. I cut a wedge of cheese and grabbed a cracker, stuffing all of both into my face and chewing as I wiped escaping crumbs from the corners of my lips.
Joey took the seat across from me and sipped his wine, reaching for a cracker. I handed him the knife after I made myself a second one.
Nibbling the edge of the cheese that hung over the cracker, I studied him through lowered lashes. He wanted to know what I’d found out. Which wasn’t unusual, even when the murder victim wasn’t someone he had a soft spot for.
I just didn’t know how much I should tell him.
Safer things first. “The governor’s son is missing,” I said, and bit into the cracker.
He froze with his glass halfway to his lips. “Who knows that besides you?”
I shrugged. “A very small handful of cops and the governor.”
The muscle in his jaw twitched, and my stomach closed in around the cheese. “What?”
Joey sighed, setting his glass on the table. “I’m trying to figure out what kind of mess you’re getting into here. Baine has some old friends at the Richmond PD. They’re in a habit of being careful what they say where that kid is concerned.”
I tipped my head to one side, chewing on the rest of the cracker. He didn’t say anything else. I swallowed. “Care to elaborate?”
He leaned back in the chair, his face going flat. Unreadable. “You have a lot of friends at the PD, too, princess. How much do you want to know?”
Damn. I knew that look. It was the one that said he was protecting me by not telling me something. “I want to know the truth,” I blurted, not sure the words were accurate as they left my lips. I walked a fine line in my relationships with my cops. They weren’t supposed to be my friends, because it wreaks havoc on objectivity. But they kind of were anyway, particularly to the extent that I trusted them to want to do the right thing. And hoped that staying mindful of my fondness for a handful of officers would balance my view and keep me unbiased.
But sitting there looking at Joey, I felt much the same way as when Kyle started talking about the Caccione syndicate: afraid to hear things that would make me think less of people I cared about.
“You’re not sure about that.” Joey could read my face better than just about anyone.
I nodded. “You’re right. But tell me anyway.” Please God, don’t let him say anything bad about Aaron.
“I’m not talking about shady deals and crooked cops—more like backroom political handshakes. But I wasn’t sure you’d keep asking.”
I sipped my wine. “What kind of backroom handshakes?”
“Back when Baine was the mayor, his kid was a handful. Things got resolved on the quiet, off the books, and Baine greased wheels at city hall for funding for programs the department wanted. Putting full-time officers in underprivileged schools, drug clinics, increased funding for child protective services. It didn’t all directly benefit the department’s budget, but what didn’t helped lighten their workload.”
I waved one hand. “And helped thousands of people. Hell, I’d sign on to keep the kid’s name out of the paper for all that.”
Joey’s jaw flexed, his eyes going to the floor. “Not the best parenting tactic, though.”
Because dad always pulling strings to get a troubled boy out of trouble might just make the kid think he could get away with literal murder.
Mrs. Powers’s phone screen: She’s dead . . . and I wasn’t even in there. What am I going to do?
Grieving boyfriend, as I assumed the first time I read it? Or privileged young man who had experience covering his ass?
Kyle’s red-rimmed eyes and stoic silence . . . Mike inviting me up into the middle of their conversation . . . Baine’s rumpled and haggard appearance.
Puzzle pieces clicked in faster than I could keep up with. Were my cops hunting for Hamilton because they were concerned for his safety—or trying to help his dad with spin control? And how much did Kyle know?
Joey got out of his chair when I stood. “Where are you going now?” he asked.
I hurried to the living room, pulled out my laptop, and returned to the table. “Someone who had Lakshmi’s passwords deleted all of her social media accounts,” I said. “Hamilton looked well and truly into her, but he has a troubled history, right?” A history not one cop said a bitty little word about in an hour-long conversation. And while I was hanging on to that card for Stacy Anderson, it was also after I asked Kyle about Hamilton that he flipped his shit. “Something isn’t right.”
I clicked into my search history and found Hamilton’s friend, the one I’d located the address for the day before. Copied it over into my notes.
Joey touched my knee, and I looked over my screen to find him kneeling in front of me. “Catch me up.”
“Baine didn’t know about Lakshmi’s past today, when I asked him.” I put the computer on the table and took a long swig of my wine. “But he also wouldn’t give me a straight answer when I asked if he was sleeping with her. He looked like hell—which, I know, his kid is gone and there was a dead woman on his desk yesterday, but . . .” I paused for air. “But. You said yourself Lakshmi had a thing for older men. Powerful ones. Suppose Hamilton walked in on his dad and his girlfriend and went all Charles Manson?”
“They’d have no choice but to cover it up.” Joey’s full lips almost disappeared into a thin white line. “Hamilton would literally have dad’s ass in a sling.”
“Exactly. Thomas Baine is on the edge of vaulting onto the national political stage. State law here gives him a very narrow window for that—he gets four years as gove
rnor, and then he’s out. The president is coming here. She likes him, party be damned. Everything is going his way.” The faster I talked, the more sense this trail made. “Hell, he even said it today, that he didn’t trust the state police as much as he trusted his old pals at the RPD. And Aaron and Mike bought every word.”
“But what does he trust them to do, exactly?”
I nodded. “That’s the question I didn’t know to ask. Because if he trusts them to keep his career steaming ahead no matter what his kid has done, I have a serious problem.”
Joey’s brow furrowed. “How so?”
“I already lost Kyle. If I can’t trust Aaron and Mike, I’m down all my best sources in the middle of the most complicated story I’ve ever seen.” I slumped back in the chair. “So. Now what?”
15
“Lost Kyle?” Joey put his hands up. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Damn. I didn’t mean to say that. Joey didn’t like Kyle for obvious personal reasons, but under the jealousy, he respected Kyle’s intelligence. Which meant under no circumstances could he know why Kyle wasn’t talking to me about this case. I didn’t need a fight on the home front piled on top of the teetering mountain of bullshit that had invaded our laid-back weekend. And I wouldn’t put it entirely past Joey to try locking me in the bedroom for the duration of the investigation. His overprotective streak can stretch too far on occasion.
“He’s really busy,” I said. “This added to his caseload at an already inconvenient time.”
Joey’s eyebrows leapt to his hairline. “Since when is Miller too busy for you?”
It was a lame excuse, and felt every syllable of it. Before I could get my mouth open to try another, he laid both hands on my knees.
“If Miller is staying clear of you, there’s a reason for it, and that probably means you’re on the right track with your story.”
Deadly Politics Page 13
