by Debra Webb
“All the papers are in disarray,” she said from where she’d parked herself in the center of the chaos. “This report on the safety regulations for transporting oil appears to have gotten some extra attention.”
“So your dad was strongly against this legislation?”
“We didn’t talk about this particular one.” She stacked the loose pages in order. “He was not happy whenever a piece of legislation that would decrease safety guidelines was introduced.”
“And that’s the legislation Camille plans to support?”
Jana looked up at him and he could practically see the wheels turning in her mind. “It’s connected, yes.”
He waited, but she didn’t elaborate. “What did Maguire think?”
He could ask about Atkins at this point, but she was only finding the calm he needed her to feel. Dylan was not jealous of the man, or uncertain about Whiny Gregory’s loyalties. Atkins was up to something, but he didn’t want Jana hurt. Maguire was in on it. The discussion he overheard might or might not have anything to do with the senator’s death. With politicians one could never tell.
“Sam’s job is keeping the office running, not promoting legislation,” Jana explained in answer to his question.
“I’m not so sure Maguire sees it that way.” Maybe now was as good a time as any to give her the lowdown on what he’d seen and heard. “While you were in the ladies room, I overheard him talking with a couple of other men in an office down the hall.”
“That’s why you left your post.” Her eyes narrowed. “What did you hear?”
She knew that building inside and out and he could tell she suspected which office he was talking about. Knowing he’d get further with evidence she couldn’t dispute, he pulled out his phone and selected the best picture. “I meant to ask you about this earlier, but you needed a break.”
She leaned forward to look and the blood drained from her face. She took the phone and studied the image. For a moment, he thought she was going to throw the thing across the room, but she handed it back with a quaking hand.
“Who’s the guy I don’t recognize?” he prodded when she sank back against the wall.
“Senator Wayne Price.” Her knuckles went white as she dug her fingers into her jeans. “What could possibly bring Sam, Gregory, and Price into the same room?”
“Something personal or political?”
“Price and my dad crossed swords on every issue. Seriously,” she added. “I can’t recall a single day that they ever got along. Not one.”
And yet, two of Clayton’s purported friends, one of them his chief of staff, were right there, chatting up the enemy. “How does Price feel about the safety thing?”
She pushed to her feet. “Oh, you don’t need me to spell it out. If Dad was against it, Price was for it.”
“Does Camille get along with Price?”
“No!”
Dylan held up his hands. “Ease up, I’m just the messenger.”
“What did you hear?”
He cleared his throat. “They didn’t use your name, but they mentioned a female who’d just lost her job. Price wanted to know what you knew, but he didn’t mention the topic. Sam volunteered to run a background check on me. Giving Gregory credit, he said something like you weren’t supposed to be hurt.”
She pressed a hand to her belly. “This can’t be happening. You said they didn’t say my name.”
“Did another woman they were connected to get a pink slip today? Would Gregory care about another woman’s safety? The jerk was there, dancing attendance to you after the mugging.” Dylan wished he’d chosen a different phrase. The thought of dancing only brought back the heat of a few hours ago.
“It doesn’t make sense. Sam and Gregory have been loyal to Dad forever.”
Dylan understood what she was going through. Betrayal like this cut deep. “I have a question and you aren’t going to like it. But we have to look at this from all angles.”
“Oh, yay.” She leaned against the counter, her eyes steady as she waited. “Let’s hear it.”
“Is it possible your dad wanted to end it all because of the people and problems stacking up against him?”
“You’re right, I don’t like that question.” She shoved the papers back into the boxes and stormed off down the hallway.
He felt like an ass, but he’d been there himself. When he didn’t hear a door slam, he walked down the hall, stopping in her doorway. “Every man has a limit. If his wife and best friend turned against him—”
“He would’ve had me!” Her voice broke on the last word. “We’ve always had each other.”
Dylan clenched his fists. He wanted to hold her. It was remarkable how much he wanted to ease her pain, but touching her was too risky. “Up until a few years ago I wore a deputy’s badge in Montana. You meet some good people on the job when you’re working in law enforcement, but you also see the dregs of humanity.”
She slid him a look as she gathered bits of silk and lace, dumping it all into the laundry hamper.
“A woman I’d met on a case asked me out long after the case was closed. We went out and things got serious. I started thinking about diamond rings and proposals. Where we’d live, how many kids we’ve have, and all the rest.”
Jana stared at him and he forced himself to go on. “What I’d thought was love turned out to be a blinding lie. It didn’t matter that she fooled everyone right along with me. I was closest to her, I should’ve seen through it. She only wanted me for my position in the sheriff’s department. She needed a fall guy for the murder of her ex. She set me up. From the all too public brawl when she made me believe he’d tried to rape her, to the knife in his back when his body was found. I was that big a fool. When she betrayed me, when it all came out, costing me my job and my reputation, I took a hard look at my gun cabinet.”
“Dylan.”
“I’m just saying I’ve been there, Jana.” He took a step into the room and when he wanted to reach for her, he forced his attention to the clothing scattered at his feet. He scooped up the garments and carried them to the hamper. “It messes with your head learning someone close to you is capable of that kind of deception and that you couldn’t see it. To make it worse, before I had a chance to prove my innocence, my dad suffered a heart attack and died. Now he’ll never know it was her.”
“Oh my God, Dylan, I’m so sorry.”
He grabbed another wad of clothes and headed for the hamper.
“But you didn’t kill yourself.”
“No, but I’ll never work in law enforcement again. It wasn’t easy to accept that reality. It was even harder knowing I couldn’t make it right with my old man. So I ran away, ashamed and disgraced.”
“You left your mom and sister... and friends?”
He nodded. Not his proudest moment and he’d just dumped it out there, hoping his old pain would somehow ease her grief. “Headed for Mexico, I got stalled out in San Antonio because of a barroom brawl with a smart ass cowboy who had nothing to do with my troubles. I was angry and ready to take it out on anyone who looked at me the wrong way.”
“But you’re here now.”
“Yeah.” He still didn’t know how he’d been found. “An attorney showed up and offered to spring me if I signed on to this job.”
“Do you like it?”
“Some cases are easier than others.” Each one had challenges, but Jana’s was turning into an emotional trial. He didn’t dwell on his past, preferring to keep it buried since he’d found renewed purpose with the Guardian Agency. “It doesn’t erase my mistakes, but it’s good work.”
“Do you go back to Montana?”
“Occasionally. I call my mom and my sister every week. I even made it home for Christmas last year.” They were getting off track, but seeing Jana relax was worth it. “My mom’s been making noise about seeing me again for the holidays this year.”
“You should go,” Jana insisted.
He nodded. “Maybe.”
Jana
worked in silence for a few minutes, picking up and restoring order. The holidays were going to be rough for her.
“My dad didn’t kill himself,” she said suddenly, her voice soft. “If he sensed the betrayals, he would’ve taken action.”
“Maybe whatever action he took got him killed.”
“Yes, but...” The scowl lifted from her face and he watched as a new determination sparked in her eyes. “If he thought it would come back on me, he would’ve done something. Or tried to.”
“You’re thinking about the letter.”
“He did tell me I shouldn’t trust anyone.”
Dylan hooked his thumbs into his back pockets. “He wanted to protect you.”
“Just my intuition.”
He remembered that line as she held his gaze. He had a sinking feeling about the next conclusion she was leaping toward. “Jana.”
“Where’s the hate mail?”
“In my truck. I sent images to Claudia for review.”
Jana urged him out of her room, toward the guest room. “They tossed the house looking for the hate mail.” She hurried across the hall and stared at the much smaller mess in his room. “Whoever did this didn’t even try to make it look like a real search in here. They were looking for something specific they believe I have.” She spun around to face him. “It has to be someone who knows me!”
She seemed so happy about it, he didn’t dare burst her bubble with another dire warning. He wouldn’t let anyone get past him to harm her anyway, but he needed to know what was on her mind. “Can you do a little of that thinking out loud?”
She was practically dancing as she slipped by him, heading for the kitchen. “Check in with Claudia while I take a look at the email I forwarded from Dad’s office account today.”
He did as she asked, pleased to finally see full background history going back to Camille’s college days had landed in his inbox. Grades, jobs, connections, milestones, the woman had a way of sticking close to people with power, influence, and money. He turned his computer to share the report with Jana.
“Your assistant is good. There are some things in that report I didn’t know.” She squinted at his screen and pointed at one item from a few years back. “Can you please ask her to check the legal stuff behind that corporation?”
Legal stuff? She sounded as weary as he felt. “Sure. Will it shed any light on your progress with your dad’s email?”
“There are time gaps in his official account. It’s like someone went in and deleted certain emails. I suppose my dad could have deleted them, but I can’t fathom why.” She rubbed her eyes.
“You need some rest,” he said, pulling his laptop out of her reach. “We can pick this up in the morning.”
“I’ll make coffee,” she argued. “We should take a closer look at his private account.”
He managed to block her path to the coffee pot. “You can’t be planning a sneak attack on the capitol?”
“His study would be better.”
“Oh, it’ll be so much easier to go unnoticed there.”
She covered her heart with her hands and gave a dramatic sigh. “With no job, where else would a daughter struggling with her grief go?”
Having seen her in action, he believed she could sell it just that way. She’d been convincing enough when she kissed him nearly brainless on the dance floor. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.” He laid his hands on her shoulders, intending to turn her around and aim her at her bedroom, but she slid her hands across his chest.
“Thank you, Dylan.”
“For what?” He had to restore some professional distance between them.
“Standing by me. This can’t be easy on you.” She brushed her lips across his. “Good night.”
He stared after her, wondering how she managed to keep him so off balance. He wanted a cold shower. Correction, he wanted Jana more with every minute, but this wasn’t the right time. Thinking of her as a client wasn’t the effective deterrent it should’ve been. He’d once been accused of having a weakness for women with major baggage who needed rescuing. It was a load of crap, but the claim still haunted him.
There was one big difference between what happened in Montana and Jana’s troubles. None of the issues haunting her were of her own doing and, more importantly, Jana wasn’t a fraud.
Chapter Twelve
Sunday, November 18
Over breakfast the next morning, they took the time to go through the emails and documents Jana had forwarded from her dad’s computer, coming up empty again. She knew her dad had written that letter—by hand—because he suspected the worst. Obviously, he’d wanted to avoid leaving an electronic trail. It was up to her to figure out the reason he was murdered and to protect his legacy. What on earth was she missing?
While Jana refilled her coffee cup, she caught a teaser that the new senator would be on the local morning show in an upcoming segment. “Sam’s been busy.” She hoped the words didn’t sound as bitter as she felt. “Camille will be out of the house.”
“What about the housekeeper?”
“She’ll be at church. Sometimes she goes to see family after the service.” Thinking of Helen’s loyalty to Camille made Jana cringe. “There’s no way to know how long she’ll be gone. Between the two of us, we should be able to manage her as long as Camille is out. This could be our best chance for another look at the study.”
Jana was surprised when Dylan didn’t argue. In fact, he ushered her to his truck before she’d finished her coffee. During the drive to Clayton ranch he’d filled her in on the added details he’d received from Claudia. Camille was definitely connected to the one corporation that stood to gain the most from the proposed changes to the oil transport safety legislation. Jana was dumbfounded. After all she’d seen yesterday she shouldn’t have been, yet she was. Could the woman she had considered her second mother and her dad’s loving wife for twelve years really be this conniving?
At the gate to the ranch, Jana used the master code as an override to get in. Camille had changed the access codes to keep her out. Yet another indication of how the new senator had thrown off all pretenses of being the woman Jana had thought her to be. When they found the house empty, Jana gave a weary cheer.
“Does Camille know you can do that?” Dylan asked as they entered her dad’s study.
“Probably not. I figured out the master code when I was in high school.”
“You snuck out of the house.” The look he gave her was pure admiration. “So it wasn’t always stargazing that pulled you out into the dark.”
“No comment.” She’d never realized her minor teen rebellion years had led to a more circumspect life as an adult until now. Somewhere along the way in her attempts to please her dad she’d purposefully hidden her real self from her closest friends and even herself. It baffled her. She wasn’t sure how to change her habits or how to take a chance with a new relationship. Most importantly, she wasn’t sure how to be just Jana Clayton.
Glancing around the study, she pulled herself back to the more urgent matter. “Where should we start?”
“Who cares?” He grinned at her. “I want to hear about you being a rebel.”
She laughed. “It’s really not that interesting.”
“I’m only teasing.” Dylan dropped his hat on the nearest chair. “See if you can find anything you missed in his electronic files. I’ll have another look around.” He turned on the television, keeping the volume low, waiting for Camille’s interview segment to air on the morning show.
Jana spent several frustrating minutes searching through her dad’s personal email. He’d forwarded a few of her analyses and some suggestions from Sam. None of it related to the safety legislation or any of his concerns within his committees.
“There has to be something,” she muttered to herself as signed out of the email account and started searching through his cloud storage. There were photo albums, letters of thanks or encouragement, news stories that had inspired or concerned him, but n
othing that made her sit up and take notice. “What have we got?” She leaned back in the chair, giving up on the computer. “A key, a secret stash of recent hate mail, and a personal letter.”
“Don’t forget odd alliances,” Dylan added, showing her a framed picture of Camille and Sam flanking her dad. The smiles were as bright as the sunshine flooding through the French doors.
“His last campaign.” She smiled as the memory resurfaced. “He decided to go old school,” she said. “Talking issues and taxes in as many small venues as possible. The way he and my mom did it during his first campaign.” She looked over the shelves for that picture and didn’t see it. She stood and moved in that direction, a distant memory surfacing, taking her back twenty years. “Where did you say you found the key?”
Dylan pointed to the small statue on the bookshelf. “In the base of the same statue in the capitol office. But this statue isn’t so helpful. It doesn’t have a hidden compartment.”
“Sweet Jesus.” Jana knelt in front of the base cabinet beneath the shelves. “It couldn’t be...” She opened the two doors and reached inside, moving her hand over first one shelf and then the other.
“What’re you thinking?” Dylan knelt beside her.
“Mom bought him the first statue when he won his first campaign. She bought him the second one to keep at the office when she found out how sick she was. She told him that no matter where he was, at home or at the office, he would always know that he was her star.” Jana smiled as her fingers found what they were looking for. She popped the face off a custom drawer hidden inside the cabinet. “I can’t believe it.”
“What is this?”
“I used to play in here all the time when I was little. One day, I was probably nine or ten, I tripped that little switch by accident. I thought for sure I’d found a treasure chest. My dad made me promise never to tell anyone about his little secret. I just assumed it no longer existed since Camille had this room gutted during the remodeling.”
