Carolyn Arnold - McKinley 04 - Politics is Murder
Page 3
Sean looked to Reanne. Her hands were firmly clasped and rocking against her kneecap.
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“Before I bring anyone on my show, I conduct extensive research on them. Your names, well, they are all over the Internet. I know what you did for those people in Cancun. I never even would have said anything, except for this situation…” Her voice trailed off and she passed looks to the Davenports.
Sean’s eyes skipped, in turn, to everyone in the room. “What is this about?”
A few seconds passed, and Davenport’s mouth opened as if he were about to speak, when a ringing phone had him running from the room.
Randi’s eyes were full of tears and, when she connected with Sean’s gaze, she pressed on a smile to suppress them.
No one spoke until Davenport sat back down beside his wife. He took her hand. “Wrong number.”
Randi’s chin quivered and the emotion purged a few more tears down her cheeks, which she was quick to wipe away.
“Reanne, what is going on?” Sara’s face reflected their pain even though she didn’t know the details.
Davenport rubbed the back of Randi’s hand for a few seconds longer and then answered. “Our daughter’s been kidnapped.”
“Oh—”
He held up a hand. “It’s all right, there’s nothing much that can be said.”
“Have you called the police?” Sean asked.
Davenport nodded. “Yes, but, even as the mayor, it hasn’t been long enough. There hasn’t been a ransom call. Reanne told us about what you did for those people in Cancun.”
“I’m sorry, but that was a—”
Reanne uncrossed her legs. “Please, Mr. McKinley, Sean, we need your help. I never would have exposed your history otherwise. Unlike other reporters, I don’t like to dig deep and reveal things that are not relevant in the media.”
“We appreciate that, Reanne, but the police are your best bet in a situation like this,” Sara said, her phrasing and tone delicate.
“Is that what you told that couple in Cancun?” Randi asked.
Sean responded. “Actually, we did tell her to call the local police, but it was different—”
“How was it different, Sean?” Davenport asked. His stare, leveled with years of practice at manipulating its receiver.
“We were in a different country.”
“Wouldn’t that have made things more difficult?”
Sean captured the pain in the mayor’s eyes, drilling into him, but logic dictated this situation needed recognized law enforcement. Although, as communicated through eye contact, the mayor wasn’t used to accepting no for an answer.
“Why do you want us looking into this?”
Randi stood up and pulled a photograph from a pocket. She extended it to Sara. The interruption only had Sean’s eyes drifting from Davenport’s for a moment.
“Local detectives are set up in my office, monitoring incoming phone calls.”
Sean’s heart sped up a bit. He didn’t want any of the guys they knew seeing them here and getting the idea they were helping off the books as some sort of vigilante team. “I thought you said they wouldn’t get involved at this point.”
“You really think he’s going to accept that? He’s the mayor,” Randi said.
Sean looked between the couple and leaned forward, about to get up. “Listen, we appreciate your thinking of us, but you really are in the most capable hands—”
Sara tapped his arm and handed him the photo. A young woman smiled for the camera, her hair and eyes were brown like her father.
Reanne glanced at the Davenports and then spoke. “Her name is Halie.”
Sean heard Randi’s sobs. Discussing the situation in a distant-type manner must have been proving too much.
“She is a beautiful girl,” Sara said. “But Sean is right. We can’t be—”
“We will pay you handsomely for your time, of course,” Davenport interjected, his hand rubbing his wife’s arm.
Sean stiffened. “It’s not about the money.”
“We know you don’t need the money, but we would pay you.” Davenport disclosed the figure he had in mind.
Sean sensed Sara’s gaze on him but didn’t turn to face her. To take on this case would place them in a bad spot. They would pit themselves against their old friends, the chief, Jimmy. Somehow the latter struck him as betrayal.
“We’ll see ourselves out.” Sean stood.
“Please.” Reanne came in front of him. “Halie is the only niece I have. They have the police looking into this. It’s all legal, but we need you two.”
“I’m still not sure I’ve heard why.”
“We’re trying to keep this as low-key as possible.”
“You’re wanting to keep this out of the news? Wouldn’t it be too late for that?” Sean gestured outside of the room, whether or not he pointed in the direction of where the detectives were set up, he had no idea.
“Every person working this case was forced to sign a confidentiality agreement.”
“Which doesn’t mean anything if a source can’t be traced. Reanne, you of all people should know that.”
Reanne’s eyes drifted to the floor, then back up. “We all want you because we know you’ll see it through. You won’t do it because Wayne’s the mayor and you want a closed case.”
“But your phone line is under surveillance. The kidnapper, if that is what is going on here, would call within the first twenty-four hours. Has that happened?”
Randi’s sobs grew deeper, heaving her chest and causing periodic outbursts.
“We don’t know exactly when she went missing,” Davenport said, pulling his wife into his side, her head against his chest.
Sean sat back down. “You don’t know when she went missing?”
He shook his head. “But if there is a call, I record all incoming.”
“All the time?”
“Yes, being a person in a position of power and responsibility garners the attention of people who would rather see you in a pine box, six feet under.”
“Don’t say such horrible things,” Randi said, straightening up and dabbing a tissue to her nose.
“It is the truth of the matter.” Davenport didn’t weaken to soften the blow for his wife. “See, if the truth got out that the mayor doesn’t even know when his daughter went missing, people would question my ability to run a city.”
Sean’s instinctual response had him wondering the exact same thing, but he knew Sara wouldn’t be pleased if he put it into so many words. “This is why you want us?”
“Yes, and as far as we know, she went missing last night.”
“Monday?”
“Yes.”
“I take it your daughter doesn’t live here?” Sean toed the line of confrontation and diplomacy.
Randi shook her head. “She’s away at the University of Richmond.”
“What makes you think she’s missing?”
“She calls home every night. She didn’t last night.”
“She could have just been out with friends, lost track of time,” Sara offered. “She could be perfectly fine.”
“You don’t know our Halie. She would have called if she could.” Tears brimmed in Randi’s eyes.
“What my sister hasn’t told you is they called her phone but she didn’t answer,” Reanne said.
“I sense someone else did?” Sara asked.
“A guy, and he told them to not bother calling back.” Reanne swallowed deeply. “He said that she was as good as dead.”
Mulling It Over
“DID YOU CALL THE RICHMOND police?” Sean asked.
Davenport nodded. “Yes, last night, but they didn’t find anything odd at her dorm. I hated that she insisted on living on campus. I would have rented her a townhouse on the outskirts, even bought her a car, paid for her parking.”
“She wanted to prove that she could stand on her own two feet, Wayne.”
He turned to his wife. “And look
at all the good that did her.”
The spark that lit Randi’s eyes made Sara think she would have slapped her husband if it weren’t for their presence.
“It wasn’t her fault. This is all yours. If it wasn’t for your fancy career, we could all live in peace.” Randi shot to her feet and stormed out of the room, the glass in the french door rattling when she slammed it behind her.
“I apologize for her. This has been hard on Randi.” Reanne went after her sister.
Davenport leaned over, bracing his forehead in his hands.
“Mr. Davenport,” Sara started.
He lifted his head. “Please, simply Wayne.”
“Tell us about your daughter.”
Sean turned to face her and she met his gaze, with a twinge of her mouth and solid eye contact. They had said they wanted their lives to be about adventure and had agreed in Mexico to handle cases “not so on the books.”
“She is nineteen. Smart girl. She doesn’t drink or smoke or party.”
“Sounds too good to be true,” Sean said.
Sara served him a sideways glare. “He just means that a lot of times parents have no idea what their kids are up to.”
“I understand that, but that’s not the case with my Halie. Honest to God, the girl’s not like her mother or me. She’s a straight arrow. An A-plus student.”
“You said that the police didn’t find anything out of the ordinary at her dorm room?”
Wayne shook his head. “Nothing at all. They said it didn’t look like there had been a struggle.”
“So she wasn’t taken against her will,” Sara summarized, glancing at Sean. She noted the communication in his eyes and that his demeanor had softened, despite what she sensed was a lingering hesitancy to get involved. “She knew her kidnapper.”
With the realization came the trace of sadness. They didn’t know if she had been kidnapped, murdered, or had taken a run for it. It wouldn’t be the first time that a privileged kid took off, claiming they were suffocating under the media spotlight.
Wayne moved closer to the edge of the sofa cushion. “You believe she knew the person who did this to her?”
Sara nodded. The confirmation brought back the days on the job, the moments when she wished she could reel back the bad news she had to deliver and replace it with something happy instead. Unfortunately, even she knew that sometimes life wasn’t fair and didn’t operate within the confines people placed on it.
“If you have a list of her friends, it might help,” Sean said.
“You’re going to help us?” The glint in Wayne’s eyes had Sara hoping that Sean wasn’t being hypothetical.
She turned to face Sean, her eyes making the silent petition.
“We will do our best.” His words came out, and Sara was likely the only one who picked up on the underlying tone. He didn’t want to disappoint the man if they couldn’t bring his daughter back. “You see, with a case like this, with someone in your position, it might be difficult.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ll have to be careful about who we ask what, or the word will get out that your daughter is missing.”
“Seems it’s too late for that concern.” Randi came into the room, Reanne trailing behind her. “It just hit the news.”
Wayne let out a deep sigh that compressed his brow, and the ragged edges of the exhale tugged at Sara’s heart.
“It was bound to get out the moment the cops were called in to look at her dorm,” Sara offered.
He nodded, slowly, his eyes disclosing his thoughts were scattered.
Randi looked down at Sara. “Tell me you’re taking this case.”
She wanted to say an emphatic yes, but didn’t want to be the one who made the final decision. She turned to Sean and reached for his hand.
Seconds after scanning his eyes, he conceded. “We will.”
“Wonderful. Let me get my checkbook.”
Sean held up a hand to stave Wayne from any further movement. “Payment isn’t necessary.”
“Absurd.” Randi stepped closer to them.
“Consider it our way of giving back.”
Randi’s mouth gaped open, and Sara was certain hers mirrored.
Reanne moved to her sister’s side and wrapped an arm around her. “You’re going to do this free of charge?”
“Well,” Sean passed a glimpse to Sara, “it’s not like we need the money and if we can help someone else that is payment enough. Or you could always give the money to charity.”
“Bless you,” Randi exclaimed, dropping to her knees in front of Sean. “You are both angels.”
Sean got the car door for Sara and, once she was inside, closed it behind her.
She glanced over at him as he settled behind the wheel. “What you are doing is a beautiful thing.”
He never wanted to see the depth of admiration in her eyes wash away. He silently pledged to himself that he would do whatever it took to never lose her respect.
“I think of it this way, what do we need the money for? We have more than anyone could dream possible in a lifetime. People can strive their whole lives for riches and never make even close to what we have, but to what purpose? Have they fed their soul along the way?” He heard the words coming from his mouth but hardly recognized himself talking. He had grown through this experience, and with the realization, he thought of Quinn. For the first time, he truly felt Quinn was watching over him. If he allowed himself to believe in heaven, Quinn was up there with his dad.
“That is the most beautiful thing.” Sara pressed a few fingers to the corner of her eyes, dabbing tears.
“It’s true, darling. We said in Cancun we want to help people. You didn’t want to set up a private investigation firm. You said you wanted it to be more off the record.”
Sara was beaming. His heart sped up, slowed and palpitated. They were on track with their purpose. Before now, he never would have imagined himself thinking this way, but things were coming together.
“We don’t need the money.” She reiterated his earlier words and placed her hand on his forearm as she leaned over for a kiss.
She seemed to savor it as much as he did, pulling back a while later. When she did, the spark of a detective was in her eyes. “Let’s find this girl and bring her home, darling.”
“Excellent idea.” He put the car into gear and rolled out of the estate.
Talking It Out
THEY WERE BACK AT SEAN’S rental house with the list of Davenport’s haters spread out on the table in front of them.
“It’s hard to believe one man has so many enemies.” Sara dropped onto a kitchen chair, a fresh coffee in her hands.
“Five typed pages, single-spaced, and these are only the ones he knows about.”
Sara sliced a look across the table. “Interesting comment. It’s probably one of them who is behind this.”
“You’re likely right, darling.”
“Let’s talk this out, then. We’ve got a young woman, nineteen, away at university,” Sara began.
“It already sounds like trouble,” Sean opined with a smile.
Sara angled her head to her shoulder. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”
“Pretend away.” He winked at her.
“You think just because you’re charming, you can get away with anything?”
“Do you blame a guy for trying?” He got up and walked behind her, massaging her shoulders briefly, before bending over and kissing her.
She pulled back. “You could do that all day.”
“Yes, but I’d rather—” He went for her mouth, but she was giggling.
“I was referring to—” She tapped her fingers on her right shoulder.
“You are such a tease.” He knotted his hands, working them into her tense muscles. “Why are you so tight anyway?”
“Regular exercise.”
“Now who is being funny?”
Her smile faded as she made eye contact with him. “It’s just this ca
se. We’re trying to find a girl—the daughter of the mayor, no less—and we don’t even know what happened to her.”
He walked back to his chair and sat across from her. “You probably already do. What is your gut telling you?”
She took a long, drawn-out sip on her coffee. She seemed hesitant to voice her opinion.
“You have strong intuition. Please, darling,” he encouraged her.
“I think she’s alive. I really do. Now, whether she’s being held by someone against her will, or she’s made a run for it, I’m not one hundred percent certain.”
“Sounds logical to me.”
She nodded. “We’ve got to figure out which it is, though.”
“Well, think of it like this, either way, her loved ones are pained from her absence. We are going to bring them closure. That’s a good thing.”
“I agree. I just don’t want to accept that she’s dead somewhere.” Her eyes drifted off and he could tell she was deep in thought.
“The cop part of you knows that’s a possibility.”
She drained the rest of the coffee and lowered the mug to the table. “Let’s start with what we do know. Her dorm room didn’t show any signs of a struggle.”
“She left willingly from there.”
“Or she didn’t disappear from there.” Sara made three columns on the notepad in front of her, labeling them, Kidnapping, Run Away, and Murder.
Under the Run Away column she wrote: left dorm willingly.
Under Kidnapping: knew kidnapper?
She tapped the end of the pen against the page. “We know that the mayor had enemies, but what we have to figure out is whether her going missing has to do with him, or with her?” She scribbled the word motive in the top right-hand corner and drew a balloon around it.
“Now, we know her father had enemies, but with all of this,” Sean ran his hand over the sheets, “it makes it a little overwhelming to start there.”
“Let’s just start with what we know.”
By her comment, he was certain his face disclosed the confusion he felt.
She smiled and reached her hand across the table and found his. “We know that the mayor has made recent enemies with the zoning changes. Remember that woman on the news last night?”