by Kat Martin
Taggart was a big man, square-jawed, with a blond buzz cut. He wore a yellow striped tie and pale yellow button-down shirt under his coat. Polished brown wing tips housed a pair of big feet.
Reese led the way into his study, which was furnished in sienna leather and warm shades of mahogany, the only room he had designed himself. He walked over to the wet bar. “I don’t suppose you’re allowed to have a drink while you’re on duty.”
“A soda would be good. Whatever you’ve got will work.”
Reese opened a Coke, poured it on the rocks, and handed it to Taggart. He poured himself a Macallan single malt, neat, and carried the drinks over to the sofa and chairs in front of the gas fireplace.
Taggart sat down on the leather sofa. Reese took the chair. “How can I help you?”
Taggart drank some of his Coke, set the glass down on the sleek mahogany coffee table. “I understand you’ve been digging around, trying to come up with information on the helicopter crash.”
“It’s not a secret. I was in the helo when it went down. I want to know what happened.”
“So do we. We’ve interviewed the people you’ve made contact with, as well as a number of others. We know pretty much everything you know, and of course we can access data and information you can’t.”
“I’m sure that’s true.” Or maybe not. He had Tabitha Love, which tended to even things up.
“You’re the CEO of a billion-dollar company,” Agent Taggart continued. “People in positions of power have enemies. We figured, once you knew the helicopter had been purposely brought down, you’d start trying to find out if you were the target.”
Reese leaned back in his deep leather chair. “I admit the thought has crossed my mind.”
“One of the first things we looked at was the passenger list. We checked out the people on board, same as you. Nothing turned up, but a couple of days ago, we got new information. Turns out you weren’t listed on the original manifest.”
Reese’s interest sharpened.
“Apparently there was a last-minute change. Most days, Sea Titan uses a twelve-passenger chopper, an Airbus H-175, to transport passengers and crew back and forth to the offshore rigs. That day, the chopper you’d been assigned was needed elsewhere. The computer randomly picked your name and moved you to the smaller helo. Some of the other passengers were also reassigned. No one knew ahead of time you would be aboard the EC135.”
“You sure it wasn’t some kind of setup? Someone purposely had me moved onto that chopper?”
“We put our best computer guys on it. They’re absolutely sure the change was random. Just a case of wrong place, wrong time.”
Relief trickled through him. No need for a bodyguard or to worry about Kenzie’s safety. His relief didn’t last long.
“If I wasn’t the target, who was?”
“We don’t know yet. According to the people we’ve talked to, even with the mechanical problems, the chopper should have been able to autorotate down. That’s where pilot error comes in. Jake Schofield made a crucial misjudgment. If he hadn’t, there might have been injuries, but odds are, no one would have been killed.”
Silence fell as Reese processed the information. He wasn’t the reason the chopper went down and whoever did it hadn’t necessarily meant to kill anyone.
“Anything else I should know?”
“Just one thing. From now on, it’d be better for you if you left the investigation to the FBI.”
The warning came through loud and clear. Interfering in a federal investigation was a serious offense. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Taggart set his unfinished cola down on the coffee table and stood up. “At some point, we may have a few more questions for you.”
Reese walked him back to the elevator. “You know where to find me.”
The agent left and Reese’s mind went back to what he had learned. If the crash wasn’t meant to kill anyone, maybe it was just supposed to be another accident involving the Poseidon. The more problems, the more chance Garrett Resources would pull the plug on the deal.
So who the hell was willing to go to that much trouble? And why?
FBI warning or not, Reese intended to find out. On Monday, he’d call Derek Stiles, bring him up to speed and get his reaction, see if there’d been any more problems in the last few days.
At least now he knew no one was trying to kill him.
Still, when he finally shut down his computer and went to bed, he had too much on his mind to sleep. Instead, he thought of the problems with the Poseidon deal, thought of Kenzie, and slid into an erotic dream that didn’t last nearly long enough, then shifted in and out of a restless half slumber. A little before dawn, he gave up and rolled out of bed, weary and out of sorts.
After a quick shower and getting dressed in a dark gray pinstripe suit and white shirt, he poured himself a travel cup of coffee and headed for the office. Kenzie usually arrived around seven thirty, but it was a quarter to eight when a knock sounded on his office door. His pulse kicked up in anticipation as he pulled it open.
Instead of Kenzie, Dallas police detective Heath Ford, a longtime friend of Chase’s, stood in the doorway, along with two police officers in crisp black DPD uniforms.
“Heath,” Reese said. “What’s going on?”
“I know it’s early, but I need to talk to you about one of your employees.”
Reese opened the door wider. “Come on in.”
Ford, a good-looking, dark-haired cop in his late forties, was one of the best homicide detectives in the department. It didn’t bode well that a murder cop was standing in his office.
The detective turned to the two uniformed officers. “Wait here. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Reese closed the door behind him. “What’s this about, Detective?”
“You know a man by the name of Lee Haines?”
An icy chill slid down his spine. “I do. His ex-wife is my executive assistant.”
“That’s the reason I’m here. Lee Haines was found dead this morning. Two bullets to the chest, one in the thigh, fired from a .38 caliber revolver.”
Reese thought of Griff. Haines wasn’t a great dad, but now the boy would grow up without a father. “When was he killed?”
“Saturday night. ME gives a tentative time of death around midnight. Housekeeper found him on the floor of his bedroom this morning.”
“I assume you’re here to inform Kenzie of her ex-husband’s death.”
“I’m here to ask Ms. Haines some questions in regard to the murder. Do you know anything about her relationship with her ex?”
Reese’s instincts went on alert. Ford was clearly there as more than just the bearer of bad news. “The divorce wasn’t friendly, but then most of them aren’t, including mine.”
“Did you know Lee Haines had filed for full custody of his son, Griffin?”
“I knew,” Reese admitted.
“You knew she was fighting it?”
“She’s my assistant,” Reese reminded him carefully. “I knew she loved her son. She mentioned Lee had filed a suit for full custody. There was never any doubt she would fight it.”
“But she doesn’t have to fight it now, does she? Lee Haines is dead.”
His temper rose. He was famous for his control, but for some reason where Kenzie was concerned, it was a struggle. Reese took a moment to settle himself. “What’s going on, Detective?”
Before he had time to answer, there was a rap on the door. Reese beckoned, and Kenzie walked into the office. She flicked a glance at Reese but her gaze went straight to Heath.
“Detective Ford? One of the officers outside said you wanted to see me.”
“That’s right. I’m sorry to bring you bad news, Ms. Haines, but your ex-husband, Lee Haines, was found murdered in his bedroom this morning.”
“Oh, my God.” Ke
nzie swayed and Reese reached out to steady her. He eased her down into one of the leather chairs in front of his desk, then crossed to the wet bar behind the paneling. He poured her a glass of water, returned, and pressed it into her hand.
“Thank you.” She took a sip, her hands shaking. “It’s just such a shock.”
“I understand,” Ford said. “However, as I was telling Reese, at least now you don’t have to worry about losing custody of your son.”
She looked up. “What?”
“Where were you Saturday night, Ms. Haines?”
“I was home.”
“Were you alone or was someone else with you?”
Her hands shook. “I was alone. Earlier that day we had all gone to the museum, my son, my grandmother Florence Spencer, and I. After we got back, my grandmother went to see a friend. It was Saturday evening. Sometimes they share a bottle of wine. If that happens, she spends the night instead of driving home.”
“And your son?”
“Griff was at a sleepover with his best friend, Tommy Caruthers.”
“So there isn’t anyone who can verify your alibi?”
“My alibi? Why would I need an alibi?” The rest of the color leached out of her face. “You don’t...you don’t think I killed Lee?”
Standing a few feet away, the detective looked down at her. “A pistol registered in your name was found in a dumpster just a block from the murder scene. There’s a good chance ballistics will confirm the gun was the weapon used to murder Lee Haines. Since you don’t have an alibi for that night, I’m afraid you’ll have to come down to the station and answer a few more questions.”
Kenzie’s gaze shot to Reese and he read her fear. Her face was as white as the paper on his desk.
“I didn’t kill Lee.”
Ford reached down and took the water glass from her shaking hand and set it aside, caught her arm, and eased her up from the chair. “Let’s go.”
“You’re...you’re arresting me?”
“Not at this time. But it would be best if you cooperated and came willingly.”
Kenzie started trembling and Reese’s control slipped another notch. No way had she killed her bastard ex-husband. One thing he knew for sure—Kenzie wasn’t a murderer.
“Let her go, Detective.” Ford’s attention swung to Reese. “Kenzie couldn’t have killed Lee Haines on Saturday night because she was with me.”
Kenzie’s gasp echoed across the office. “Reese, don’t!”
The detective’s eyes darkened as they zeroed in on Reese’s face. “Are you sure about that? You’re a well-respected businessman, Reese. You have a reputation as the kind of guy who doesn’t mix business with pleasure.”
Normally, he wouldn’t. Kenzie was different. Since they had actually spent Thursday night together, he told himself it wasn’t that much of a lie. And it would give them time to gather the information they needed to prove her innocence.
“I’m sure,” Reese said. “Ask Kenzie about the little mole she has on the inside of her thigh.”
Tears welled in her eyes as Ford’s gaze swung back to her. “So your relationship is more than just professional? The two of you are sleeping together?”
“Not...not exactly,” Kenzie said.
“Yes,” Reese countered.
Ford’s jaw hardened. Clearly, he suspected Reese was lying. “Looks like I’m done here—for now. If anything else comes up, you can be sure I’ll be in touch.” Ford strode out of the office without closing the door. Both uniformed officers fell in behind him as he crossed to the executive-floor elevator and disappeared inside.
* * *
Kenzie sank back down into the chair, trapping her hands between her knees to keep them from shaking. Reese closed the office door, then returned and stood directly in front of her.
“Are you okay?”
Her eyes flooded with tears she’d managed to hold back until now. “Oh, my God, Reese. What have you done?”
His jaw firmed, his usual control back in place. “Did you kill your ex-husband?”
Kenzie wildly shook her head. “No! Of course not!”
“Then I bought us some time.”
“Time? Time for what?”
“Time to figure things out.”
“Like what?”
“Like how to prove you’re innocent of murder and who the hell killed your ex-husband.”
“You lied to a police detective, Reese. You could be arrested. You’re the CEO of Garrett Resources. Your job could be in jeopardy. You could even be thrown in jail.”
“I’ll clear things up once we get rolling. I’ll talk to the police, tell them I got the dates mixed up. That we were together Thursday night not Saturday.”
She brushed away the wetness on her cheeks. “And you think they’ll actually believe you? They’ll accept your word you just made a mistake?” She swiped at another errant tear. “I can’t believe you did that. I can’t believe you would risk yourself that way.”
Gripping her shoulders, Reese eased her up from her chair. “You don’t think you’re worth it?”
She swallowed, her heart squeezing at the look on his face. “I didn’t kill Lee.”
“I know, honey. We’ll figure it out, but we’re going to need some help. Why don’t you go wash your face while I call my brother?”
Her throat ached. She still couldn’t believe Reese had lied for her. He had stepped completely out of line for her. It made her feel warm all over.
Since she didn’t have any idea what else to do, she turned and headed out the door. As she walked toward the hallway, she saw Louise standing next to her desk, her eyes wide and worried.
“The police were here when I got to the office,” the older woman said. “Is Griff okay?”
“Griff’s fine. Unfortunately, Saturday night his father was killed.”
“Killed? You mean in a car accident or something?”
“Lee was murdered, Louise. The police are trying to find out who did it.”
Louise’s eyes widened. She looked at Kenzie with concern. “Oh, dear. Poor Griff.”
“I don’t know how to tell him. He and his dad were never close, but still... Lee was his father.”
“Do the police have any idea who did it?”
Kenzie pressed her lips together and glanced away.
“Wait a minute. Surely they don’t think you had anything to do with it?”
Kenzie sighed. “It’s complicated, Louise.” She shoved her dark hair back from her face. “I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me. I need to use the ladies’ room.”
Leaving her assistant staring after her, Kenzie headed down the hall. In the last few days, her life had been turned upside down. First, Griff had landed in the hospital. Then the custody suit. Then she had seduced her employer, a man she respected and admired, putting both of their jobs at risk. Now Lee was dead, she was a suspect in his murder, and Reese had lied to give her an alibi.
Kenzie was afraid to imagine what would happen next.
FIFTEEN
The afternoon turned stormy, dark clouds on the horizon, the wind blowing like a bitch. Reese was meeting Chase in his office at Maximum Security, one of the top detective agencies in Dallas.
Briefly, he’d filled his brother in on Lee Haines’s murder and the ongoing investigation. But Chase wanted details. Reese dreaded the confrontation. Hell, he didn’t know that much about it himself.
Shoving open the glass front door, he walked into the single-story redbrick building on Blackburn Street.
“Chase is expecting me,” he said to Mindy Stewart, the receptionist. The petite brunette sat behind a big oak desk that matched the Western decor of the office.
“He told me you were coming in,” she said, pushing her round tortoiseshell glasses up on her nose. “I cleared his calendar for the afternoon.”
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Good news and bad. Plenty of time for his older brother to rail at him for what he’d done, one of the few people Reese allowed to get away with it.
He waved at Jason Maddox as he strode across the open area where oak desks sat in a line of neat rows. Since he was short on time, he didn’t stop to chat. He’d call Hawk later to thank him for his help with Rico Alvarez and ask him to keep his ears open for anything that might help him find Lee Haines’s killer.
With a light rap on the door, he walked into Chase’s office. His brother rose behind his wide oak desk, his dark blond hair slightly mussed, a scowl on his face. Reese was surprised to see Brandon sprawled on the brown leather sofa, sipping a bottle of beer.
Resigned, Reese headed in that direction while Chase rounded the desk to join them.
“I talked to Heath Ford,” Chase said. “He told me as much as he could. What the hell have you done?”
“I’m helping a friend, all right? I’ll straighten things out in a couple of days. I just needed to buy a little time to get things started.”
“Tell me you aren’t really sleeping with her,” Chase said. “You just made that up to help her out of a jam.”
Reese clenched his jaw. “Who I’m sleeping with is none of your business.”
Brandon rose from the sofa to stare him in the face. “It is when she’s your employee, bro. You know how dangerous that is. The company belongs to all of us. That woman could ruin you and cause us endless grief.”
His jaw went even harder. “It’s a chance I’m willing to take.”
“Kenzie is a suspect in a homicide,” Chase said.
“She didn’t kill her no-good ex-husband,” Reese replied.
“How can you be sure?” Chase asked.
Reese’s temper inched up. “Because I know her. I’ve worked with her five days a week for the last six months.”
“What about the gun the cops found a few blocks away?” Bran asked. “It belongs to her, right?”
“Ford said it was registered to her. We haven’t had time to talk about it.”
“Well, you damned well better make time,” Chase said.
