Triumph

by Janet Dailey

  She knew they were there. The light of the city made them disappear, that was all. Far to the west, high above the nearly empty country where she’d spent her childhood, millions of stars still shone.

  The brisk sound of a knock from Deke’s suite made her turn away.

  “That’s room service,” he said from the adjoining room. “Are you decent?”

  “Not really.”

  There was a pause. Kelly could almost hear Deke’s indrawn breath. She smiled again.

  “Okay.” Not looking, he half closed the door between the suites with an outstretched hand. “Come on over when you are.”

  What a gentleman. It was almost a shame. But it was inappropriate to even think about a business relationship turning into something more too quickly.

  On a male spectrum from married guys looking to get lucky to single men wanting to get wild, she couldn’t really place Deke. He didn’t seem like any of the other investigators, government agents, or cops she’d come across in ten years of reporting. Too many of them had assumed she was available. Once in a while, when she felt like it, she was. At least she’d never fallen in love. That would have seemed like going too far.

  Deke opened the hall door to the room service waiter. Kelly listened absently to the minor commotion of the tray being brought in and set down, and the faint clang of the metal domes being removed from the plates.

  “Looks great,” he said to the waiter, who thanked Deke enthusiastically for what had apparently been a generous tip.

  Kelly got up from in front of the vanity mirror and walked to her suitcase, taking a long, almost weightless robe made of travel jersey from an inner compartment. The tailored design featured lapels and cuffs piped in white, but the navy-blue material was on the slinky side. Wearing the robe with nothing underneath was asking for trouble.

  She moved to the closet alcove and let the towel fall off her nude body to the floor. Kelly knew Deke wasn’t watching—the doorway was empty and there wasn’t a sound from the adjoining suite.

  Rummaging in the lingerie organizer, she pulled out her favorite pale blue silk bra trimmed with lace and matching panties. Kelly stepped into the panties and pulled them up. The whisper of silk over skin was barely audible. But both suites seemed even quieter.

  Bra next. He couldn’t possibly hear the tiny fasteners hook together.

  She found the light chemise she’d brought to sleep in. It would make another layer under the robe.

  In less than a minute, she was wrapped and buttoned, the long robe providing maximum coverage. Kelly picked up her laptop for a little extra protection, holding it in front of her like a shield, and went back to get the zippered case. She gave the knotted sash an extra tug as she went through the open door connecting the suites.

  Deke was sitting at the table, the room service meal for two on uncovered plates, still hot. He wore a dark tank top and athletic pants with a stripe down the outside of each leg. He was barefoot. Wet-combed, his hair looked black. He glanced up as she came toward the table, looking only at her face.

  She had to give him credit for self-control. His dark eyes never moved down. Behind him, in the next room, she glimpsed an expanse of snowy white bed with nothing on it. He’d probably thrown everything he’d brought onto the luggage rack—after he’d pulled out the jock togs he was wearing—and slung his black-tie carry-on bag onto a closet hook. Men traveled light.

  It was just as well she was buttoned up. Kelly sat across from him, slipping her robed knees under the draped white tablecloth and keeping the zippered case in her lap. She put her laptop beside her plate.

  “Do you always bring that to dinner?” Deke inquired.

  “I thought I might get a little work done. This isn’t a date.”

  “You look gorgeous.”

  She waved away the compliment. “Not yet. I’m not even dressed.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  Kelly’s hand moved to check the top button of her robe. It hadn’t popped out. She picked up her cloth napkin and put it in her lap. “Shall we eat?”

  “I’m starved,” he admitted. “How about you?”

  “I was thinking I’d just pick. But this looks too good.”

  The cold lemon chicken she’d ordered was thinly sliced and arranged atop a fresh salad. Deke’s entrée, a man-size burger on a toasted roll, was still sizzling.

  They started in on the meal, not talking at first. She couldn’t help noticing how smoothly he’d shaved. Deke’s rugged face did look younger, but there was nothing babyish about it. The dark tank top was taut over his broad chest, his strong arms on full display.

  Enjoy your dinner, she told herself. This was just dinner, even if he looked ready to do battle. Or make love. Oblivious to her wayward thoughts, Deke upended the ketchup bottle and gave the bottom a good whack, prepping the burger to his satisfaction.

  Kelly got busy with her knife and fork. She wasn’t doing herself any favors by constantly checking him out. They were a team, that was all. The story came first.

  They talked about other things as they ate.

  “Mmm. That was really good.” She put down her fork. “But I don’t want to eat too much before the party.”

  Deke had polished off most of his burger. She didn’t know where it had gone. The tank top didn’t show a hint of bulge.

  “I brought a few things that used to come in handy,” she said, putting the zippered case on the table.

  He held his hands up in mock surrender. “Nothing that takes bullets, I hope.”

  “No. I told you I don’t own a gun.”

  Kelly took out a small rectangular mirror about a half inch thick. “I had this thing custom-made. Looks like a makeup mirror—actually, it is. But it also takes photos and transmits them wirelessly.”

  “Not suitable for dudes.” Deke looked impressed. “But I want one.”

  “What I would do was take it out of my purse, make a trout pout at myself, and fix my lipstick.”

  She demonstrated with the lip gloss. Deke seemed mesmerized, but not by the gadget.

  “Snap snap,” she said, pressing the mirror’s rim twice.

  “I didn’t hear anything.”

  “Check your phone. I just sent a photo of you staring at me.”

  He reached for his smartphone and tapped the screen. “Here it comes—oh no,” he groaned. “That’s worse than my driver’s license picture.”

  “Let me see.” She took the phone from his hand, laughing.

  “Yup, definitely not something you would send to your mother. I’ll take another.”

  “Spare me. I get the idea.” He took the phone back from her and looked at the photo again before he deleted it. “Good lens on that gizmo. The image is super clear. Does it take videos?”

  “Short ones. Like a minute.”

  “And it fits in a purse,” he said approvingly. “We’re going to need it. I forgot to tell you before we left—the hotel’s social director issued a ban on smartphones at the ball. No cameras either, except for a couple of designated photographers.”

  “Seriously? Every party and club I go to, everyone’s taking and sending photos.”

  Deke grinned. “Which end up on Facebook. And if you’re famous, the front page or the evening news. Rich men don’t want to get caught with a drunken leer on their faces, staring down the wrong dress.”

  “Hey, what about the women? There’s always one who decides to dance on a table or smooch a waiter.” Kelly was mildly amused. “I guess Natalie Conrad knows her guests.”

  “She doesn’t know all of them,” Deke said. “You ready to go undercover again?” he asked, relaxing in his chair.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be. And I’m not really undercover. She’s met me. This is another easy assignment, right?”

  “Maybe for you. I don’t know a damn thing about Dallas society.”

  Kelly had to smile. “Do I look like a former debutante?”

  He finished his glass of ice water. “Yes, actually. Were yo
u one?”

  She shook her head. “Are you kidding? There wasn’t a chance in hell of that happening. What makes you think I come from money?”

  Deke grinned and tilted his chair back. “The way you move.”

  “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” Her tone had a noticeable edge.

  “You walk like you own the world and no one tells you what to do.”

  “You’re right about the second part.” She pushed her plate to the side. “Anyway, no one at this event besides Natalie is likely to recognize me.”

  Opening her laptop, Kelly quickly changed the subject. “If you could bring me up to speed on the investigation before we make our grand entrance, that would be great. Any new developments?”

  “Some. Do we have to do this right now? I should run out and get a burner.”

  “Huh?”

  “A prepaid disposable cell phone to hand over to the guard.” He was talking about the social director’s ban. “I don’t want to hem and haw when he asks me if I have one. It’s a prop.”

  “Something I need?” Kelly asked.

  “I’m still going to carry my real phone. So should you. Don’t worry. We won’t get frisked.”

  “I hope not.”

  The gown she’d brought along had no place to hide anything. It clung. It revealed. She couldn’t wait to see Deke’s reaction when he saw her wearing it. Right now he looked impatient.

  “The hotel gift shop might sell prepaids. Worth a try,” she told him. “Okay, quick questions. Do you have an update on the voiceprint analysis?”

  “I just got a text on that. Done.”

  Kelly suppressed a sigh. He never actually told her much unless she really prodded him. It wouldn’t hurt to remind him that she’d done him a huge favor.

  “Did Hux let you know?” she asked. “I got the idea you didn’t want him to know I’d met with Gunther Bach.”

  Deke ignored the dig. “The update came from the lab.”

  “Share it. I’m all ears.”

  Deke brought his chair back down on the floor and reached toward the coffee table for his smartphone, tapping the screen before he read the text aloud.

  “Results inconclusive. Low probability that unsub—that means unknown subject—at prior meeting is Gunther Bach. Additional analysis to follow.”

  Kelly looked at him impatiently. “Spare me the tech talk. Your people obviously don’t have a clue at the moment.”

  “Bach is still a person of interest,” Deke defended. “If I didn’t explain it before, voiceprints are comparisons. You never get a precise match. But thanks for trying.”

  She felt a little miffed. “So where is Bach now?”

  “Out of the country, as far as we know. We were able to pull up his flight information. He booked a one-stop with a layover in Phoenix. Final destination, Mexico City.”

  “Did you—”

  “No. Hux tailed him to the airport, got as far as security, and saw Bach in the VIP line. He didn’t feel like flashing his badge when we had nothing on the guy.”

  “Oh, I could think of a few things,” Kelly said. “I feel sorry for the flight attendants. But good riddance. I can’t believe I wasted a lunch hour on that creep.” She got up and collected the dishes and cutlery, stacking everything on the tray like a pro.

  “You can leave that for the housekeeper,” Deke said with amusement.

  “I don’t like looking at the gruesome remains.”

  Kelly balanced the tray on a half-moon table near the suite’s main door. She opened the door and peered outside before she bent gracefully to set down the tray on the hall carpet.

  “Were you ever a waitress?” he asked when she came back.

  “Yes.”

  He looked at her expectantly. She didn’t see any reason to tell him her entire life story. Deke would have to be satisfied with the basics.

  “I worked my way through college,” Kelly said flatly. “And it took me a while to pay off my student loans. My own fault. I majored in You Can’t Get A Job With That.”

  “Let me guess. English Lit?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And how did you become a reporter?”

  “I talked my way into a job at a local TV station because I was good at bugging people and I could write. We had five thousand loyal viewers and three advertisers.”

  “Where was that?”

  “Virginia. In the boonies. Which is where I went to college. Once I got out of high school, I headed east and didn’t come back. Then I moved to a bigger station and kept on going from there. Eventually I became an investigative reporter and then I got the Atlanta gig. Are you done asking me questions?”

  “Sorry. Just curious. Ask me a few.”

  “I already did my homework on you and your brothers. It’s amazing how little information there is on the Bannons. Especially you.”

  “That’s how I like it,” Deke answered. There was a guarded look in his eyes.

  Kelly wasn’t going to grill him on his past if he intended to keep it to himself. There were safer topics, like multiple unsolved homicides.

  “Let’s get back to the investigation. I’m beginning to wonder why you invited me to Dallas.”

  “The pleasure of your company?”

  That didn’t deserve a reply. She glanced down at her laptop and realized that she hadn’t turned it on. A minute later, she got a nice surprise. “Hey, free Wi-Fi. Is that a penthouse perk?”

  “Yup.”

  She didn’t look into the glowing screen after she tapped a few keys, just at him. “Okay, nuts and bolts questions first. Did the ballistics tests reveal anything interesting?”

  “Kelly, think about how long it takes to find shells and bullet fragments in a seventeen-story building and a parking lot. They’re just getting started.”

  Kelly positioned her fingers above the keyboard. “How about bloodstains? Spots? Spatter?”

  “Same deal. Blood analysis can take weeks. You know that.”

  “I’m not a detective.” Kelly smiled sweetly. “But you know what would make a great visual? A computerized reenactment of the shooting. Graphs, bullet trajectories, figures in 3-D.”

  “Dream on.”

  “We need something fabulous before the story goes cold and no one’s interested.”

  “That would be the purpose of the news blackout,” Deke muttered.

  Kelly seized on the comment. “Really? Can I quote you on that?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Deke, you have access to all kinds of inside information. You and I might have the same liaison at the police department. Who’s your guy?”

  Find common ground. Get the other person to believe you were on their side. She had always been good at both.

  “Someone I trust.”

  “Another non-answer,” she sighed.

  “I don’t have to tell you everything.” Deke shifted in his chair.

  She figured she might as well keep him on the hot seat. “And I keep thinking we have a deal.”

  Deke shrugged. “I’ll answer questions as I see fit. But I can’t speak for the police. They have their own way of doing things, and I’m not going to second-guess their investigation.”

  “Is that a nice way of saying that feds and cops don’t like to work together?”

  “Kelly, lay off. And don’t put words in my mouth,” he said in a level tone. “My dad was a cop.”

  “And your older brother RJ followed in his footsteps,” Kelly replied. “Why didn’t you?”

  “I’m not good at following orders. Like you.”

  The corners of her mouth quirked for just a second. She couldn’t really argue with that.

  Deke’s steady brown gaze made her uneasy. So did his next question. “While we’re on that subject, what did your father do?”

  Kelly was aware that she’d left him an opening. She covered.

  “Good question. He took off when I was really little. We never saw or heard from him again. For all I know,
he’s dead.” There was a sudden fierceness in the depths of her green eyes. “I’m not sentimental about him.”

  “No reason you should be.”

  Deke’s blunt response made her want to get the explanation over with. It wasn’t classified information. Just not something she ever talked about.

  “By the time I was a teenager, I figured if he didn’t want me, I didn’t want him. I started using my mother’s maiden name.”

  “Johns?”

  “Yes.” She braced herself for the inevitable next question. It was slow in coming and Deke asked it gently.

  “Is your mother still alive?”

  “No. She died of cancer when I was nine. My grandmother raised me. She’s gone too. I love her and I miss her. Can we talk about something else?”

  “Pick a topic.”

  Kelly composed herself. He gave her plenty of time.

  “What exactly are you hoping to find out tonight?” she said finally. “You gave me a general idea, but I could use something more specific. Starting with how you got the invite. Were you on the A list or the B list?”

  “Neither,” he replied.

  There was that annoying grin again. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was one step ahead of her, for reasons he wasn’t about to explain. Kelly glared at him until he gave in. Or pretended to.

  “One of our undercover agents knows someone on Natalie Conrad’s personal staff,” he said. “This ball is going to be the first of many. She plans to host similar events in different US cities and abroad.”

  “She has houses all over the world. Palatial houses,” Kelly added. “Maybe she got tired of decorating them all.”

  “Could be. Maybe she just wants to get back into the social whirl.” Deke reached for his laptop. “Guests are coming from all over for tonight’s shindig.”

  “I noticed more private jets touching down right after we landed.”

  Deke gave a nod. “This could be the highest concentration of rich people in one place ever. And we have more bad guys to keep an eye on than we thought. Headquarters sent a fresh batch of photos while you and I were en route. Want to see them?”

  “Hell yes.” Kelly’s eagerness showed in her body language.

  “Got the file right here. Just let me open it up and—hang on.” He tapped the keyboard for a minute, then turned the laptop toward her. “I removed the identifying captions. See if you can tell our agents from the bad guys.”