by Kat Martin
“Get going,” the man with the black hair said, shoving him forward, enjoying it. “Boss doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Nolan pushed the button on the elevator and it began its ascent to DeMarco’s penthouse apartment on the top floor of the club. Arthur wished he had remembered to grab his suit coat as he’d walked out the door. He looked wrinkled and tired after the long drive from Dallas. He hated being at a disadvantage.
DeMarco was waiting when the doors slid open and he stepped into the black-and-white marble entry beneath a huge crystal chandelier. Everything in the penthouse was overdone. Gold and scarlet, white gilded furniture, imitation Greek statues. It reeked of DeMarco’s lower-class beginnings, Arthur thought.
“You want a drink?” The words rasped out in DeMarco’s smoker’s voice. He took a sip of the expensive scotch he favored, making the ice clink in his glass. He was several inches shorter than Arthur, built like a linebacker, with broad shoulders and a thick barrel chest. He had dark brown hair that always needed trimming, black eyes, and a bad complexion. Sawyer DeMarco was not a handsome man.
“Club soda,” Arthur said. Getting drunk was not an option.
“Take care of it, Eddie.” The black-haired guy headed for the built-in bar, his lips pressed together. Clearly, he didn’t like menial tasks.
Eddie returned and handed him the heavy crystal glass. Arthur took a sip, concentrating so his hand wouldn’t shake.
“Leave us,” DeMarco said, abruptly sending his two henchmen away. He turned back to Arthur. “I hear you’re having some problems.” DeMarco sipped his scotch.
Arthur said nothing. DeMarco was behind his son’s murder. He knew it, had received DeMarco’s message loud and clear. And the man wouldn’t hesitate to kill again.
“You don’t have the money to pay me back, right?”
“Not at this time, but I assure you—”
“Oh, you’re going to pay me. We both know that. Unfortunately, you owe me interest as well as principal.”
Arthur said nothing, the gruff voice grating on his nerves.
Both still standing, DeMarco wandered casually closer. “Here’s the thing. With all the competition from the Indian casinos that have opened in Oklahoma, business is down. We need to expand. We want to locate on the north shore of Lake Pontchartrain and also in the northeast region of Louisiana.”
DeMarco took another sip of scotch. “Your son, Daniel, is one of the most influential legislators in Louisiana. Daniel Haines comes out in favor of our proposals, we’ll get the approvals we need.”
“I’ll pay you back,” Arthur said. “I just need a little more time. I’ll pay what I owe plus interest.”
“Oh, I know you will.” He patted Arthur on the shoulder hard enough to spill club soda over the rim of his glass. “And I’m going to help you. I’m going to get you that oil rig you’ve been trying to steal.”
A ripple of fear moved down Arthur’s spine. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“The Poseidon. You don’t think I know what you’ve been up to? When I want something, Arthur, I go after it. I get it by whatever means necessary. I need your son’s support and you need that drilling platform. So I’m going to get it for you.”
Arthur opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
DeMarco just smiled. “I’m going to do what you failed to accomplish. I’m going to force Garrett Resources to pull out of the deal. You’re going to buy the rig and get your company back on track so you can pay me the money you owe and move your business forward. In return, you’re going to get Daniel to do exactly what I ask.”
Arthur’s heart was thudding, his mind spinning, fighting to stay in control.
“Daniel’s support is the interest payment you owe. I’ll even throw in the photos of you and the hooker who tied you up and beat your bare ass with a whip. Does that seem fair?”
His face flushed. He ran his tongue over his dry lips. “It seems fair.”
“Good, because if you don’t convince Daniel to support our proposals, I’m going to have to find a way to convince him myself. Since you’ve already lost one son, I don’t imagine you want to lose another. Or anyone else in your family.”
Arthur felt a wave of nausea as he stared into DeMarco’s cold black eyes. Then the door opened and Nolan and Eddie walked back into the room.
“Get him out of here,” DeMarco said.
In that instant, Arthur was actually glad to see them.
TWENTY-TWO
Kenzie took Friday off to spend with her son. Reese had called after the funeral and suggested it. He’d spoken to Griff at the graveside service.
“I know it’s hard,” Reese had said. “I was older than you when my dad died, but it was still rough. He was a businessman like your father, so we didn’t get to spend a lot of time together. But I still remember him, remember some of the little things we did together.”
“Dad took me out to the lake once,” Griff said, fighting back tears. “I wanted him to teach me to water-ski but he said it was too dangerous.”
“One of my friends has a boat,” Reese said. “Maybe we can go sometime.”
Kenzie looked at her son. For the first time that day, something besides sadness shone in Griff’s eyes. “Really?”
“If we go and your mom thinks it’s okay, I’ll teach you.”
Gratitude slipped through her. She looked up at Reese, saw the caring in his eyes, and a warm feeling expanded inside her. From that moment on, Kenzie thought the day had somehow seemed brighter.
She couldn’t help thinking how different Reese was from Lee. How he actually seemed to take an interest in her son. It scared her to think how deeply she was getting involved with him. She knew what Reese was like, that odds were he’d get bored with her and move on. She told herself she could handle it when the time came.
Friday morning slipped away, drifted into afternoon. The sun was out, the September air still warm after last night’s rain.
“Why don’t you two go for a swim?” Gran suggested. “Weather’s nice today.”
Seated at the kitchen table, Griff looked up and his features brightened. “Could we, Mom?”
She smiled, thinking it was a good idea. “I don’t see why not.” Griff started for the stairs to change, Kenzie close behind him when the doorbell rang. She turned to the door, checked the peephole, and her stomach knotted.
Griff continued up the stairs while Kenzie opened the door. “Detective Ford. I’m surprised to see you.” She didn’t invite him in. She had no idea what he wanted but it couldn’t be good.
“I’ve got a couple of questions I need to ask. They won’t take long.”
She had seen him at the funeral yesterday, standing at the back of the crowd. Griff had recognized him from a news broadcast on TV and wanted to ask him about his progress on the murder case. Fortunately, the detective was gone by the time the service was over.
“What do you want to know?”
A cynical smile curved his mouth. He’d be a good-looking man if he weren’t always scowling, trying to prove her guilty of murder.
“Turns out you’re quite a good shot, Kenzie. You never mentioned your shooting skills. You didn’t tell us your father belonged to the Dallas Trap Shooting Club. Or that the two of you went there together often. Why, you’ve even won trophies.”
Her heart was pounding. She wished Reese were there. “I told you my father taught me to shoot.”
“You said you bought the pistol for self-defense. You didn’t say you were a crack marksman.”
She lifted her chin. “Do I need to call my attorney?” It was what Nate Temple would advise her to say.
“What happened the night of the murder? Reese says you were with him but we both know that isn’t true. Did you go to your ex-husband’s house in order to kill him, or did the two of you get into an argument and things j
ust got out of hand? Maybe you were frightened. After the beatings he gave you, maybe you just reacted. Or you were concerned for Griff’s safety. If that’s what happened—”
“That isn’t what happened. No matter what he did to me, I don’t believe Lee would ever have hurt his son, and I was nowhere near Lee’s house the night he was killed. I think you had better leave, Detective.”
“You might want to think about Reese. I know the two of you are involved. Giving false evidence, interfering in a police investigation—he could be facing some very serious charges.”
“Please leave.”
Ford took a step back and handed her a business card, which she accepted with a trembling hand. “If you change your mind, give me a call.”
The detective walked out of the house. Kenzie closed the door and leaned against it.
“Mom?” Griff stood at the bottom of the stairs, dressed and ready for a swim. “Was that the detective who was on TV? He’s the one trying to find Dad’s killer.”
“That’s right.”
“He...he doesn’t think you did it, does he?”
Oh, God. “He’s just doing his job, honey. The police ask everyone questions. I wasn’t anywhere near your dad’s house that night.”
She saw the fear in his eyes as he walked toward her. “If the cops think you did it, they could arrest you.”
She drew him in for a hug. “They aren’t going to arrest me, sweetheart. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Griff pulled away. “We’ve got to help them find the bad guy, Mom. If we find the killer, you won’t have to worry about the cops. Maybe we could get Reese to help.”
The worry in his face made her eyes sting. It wasn’t fair that a child his age should be afraid of losing his other parent, too.
“Reese is already helping us, honey. His brothers are detectives. They’re looking for clues.”
His features brightened. “Really?”
“Yes, they’re doing their best to help.”
“Okay.” He looked up, his shoulders less tense. If Reese was helping, surely everything would be okay. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one falling under Reese’s spell. “You still want to go swimming?” he asked.
“Sure.” She forced a smile, hoping a few laps in the pool would burn off some of the adrenaline still pumping through her system. “I’ll change into my suit and be right down.”
As she headed up the stairs, she saw Griff wander over to the window and stand there staring out. From the upstairs bedroom, she saw what he was looking at, an unmarked police car parked down the block.
Dear God, when would this nightmare end?
* * *
Late Friday afternoon, Reese got a call from Tabby.
“I took another look at Daniel Haines and this time I went deep. The guy is squeaky-clean and I mean golden. He isn’t up for reelection for two more years, but if the vote were held tomorrow, the guy would win by a landslide.”
“An honest politician. A rare commodity. Thanks, Tabby.”
“I figured while I was at it, I’d check on Lee.”
Reese had already done the basics, but anything he learned could be useful. “And?”
“Born and raised in Dallas. Married Kenzie right after she got out of college. Had a son, divorced five years ago. Considered himself a real estate entrepreneur and he definitely made some money in the business, but there were lawsuits and scandals, endless rumors about his integrity. No wonder Kenzie dumped him.”
He thought of the hospital photos he had seen. “Good call on her part.”
“You figure out who killed him?”
“Not yet.”
“One more thing. Bran called, said he’d been busy getting the office ready, asked me to look into Arthur. From what I could tell, Arthur’s a lot like his son—not Daniel, the other one.”
“Anything specific?”
“Not yet, but I’m on it.”
When the call ended, Reese phoned John Denton, VP of sales and acquisitions at Sea Titan, asked him if Black Sand Oil and Gas had made an offer on the Poseidon. The answer was no.
“You must have had other offers,” Reese said.
“We had interest from other companies, but we didn’t really put it up for bid. We knew if Garrett Resources bought the rig, the deal would likely go through. I hope nothing’s happened to change that.”
“You know we’ve had problems. But we’re working them out. I’m just following up, keeping on top of things.”
“Let me know if you need my help.”
“Thanks, John, I will.” So Black Sand hadn’t made an offer. But if the company was in trouble, maybe Arthur was having second thoughts. Expanding into offshore drilling could be the answer to his prayers.
Reese needed more information.
A little after 6:00 p.m., he joined Chase at Clancy’s, in the same wooden booth as before, sipping the same Irish whiskey.
Chase slid into the booth across from him, rubbed a hand over the close-cropped gold beard along his jaw, and ordered a beer. The waitress with the curly blond hair arrived with a frosty bottle of Lone Star a few minutes later. She flicked Reese a glance as she walked away, but he ignored the not-so-subtle invitation. He had another woman on his mind.
“How was the funeral?” Chase asked, then took a long swallow of beer.
“I felt sorry for Griff. Losing a dad is hard, even if he was a rotten father.”
Chase nodded. Bass Garrett had been a powerhouse. A dynamic figure in the oil and gas industry. As a husband and father? Not the best. Still, they’d loved him.
“Arthur Haines was there with his son, Daniel,” Reese continued. “And a woman who claimed to be Lee’s fiancée.”
“I hadn’t heard.”
“Neither had I. I have heard rumors that Black Sand Oil and Gas is in trouble. I’m trying to find out if it’s true. If it is, getting their hands on the Poseidon might be a solution to their problems.”
Chase sipped his beer. “You’re thinking Arthur might be behind the trouble you’ve been having?”
“Could be him, could be one of those idiot protesters, could be anyone. But, yeah, I think there’s a chance it’s him.”
“So Arthur Haines, Lee Haines, and Kenzie Haines. Arthur’s company may be responsible for the problems on the rig. Lee is dead and Kenzie is a suspect in his murder. I don’t know how this all ties together, but I’m not a big believer in coincidence.”
Reese frowned. “You aren’t thinking Kenzie has anything to do with the Poseidon deal?”
“I’m not sure what to think. I’m wondering if you’ve considered what role Kenzie might be playing in all of this.”
Reese felt a stab of irritation. “She isn’t playing any role. She has nothing to do with Lee’s murder or anything else. Somehow she just got swept up in all of it.”
“You sure? Timing’s about right. She came to work for you, what? Six months ago? Isn’t that about the time you started negotiating to buy the platform?”
“So what? I was looking for an assistant. Kenzie was looking for a job. She had the right credentials, so I hired her. She’s the best I’ve ever worked with.”
“What if she’s setting you up? Feeding Arthur Haines information? Bran and I both saw the way you looked at her the night of the banquet. Now she’s in your bed.”
His temper crept higher. “So I’m attracted to her. So what?”
“It’s more than that and you know it. I’ve never seen you look at a woman the way you look at her.”
The hand Reese rested on the table balled into a fist. “Kenzie didn’t kill Lee Haines and she isn’t in league with Arthur. I thought we’d already settled this.”
“That was before you mentioned Arthur’s possible involvement in the problems with the rig.”
Reese slid out of the booth and stood up. �
��Kenzie has nothing to do with any of this. I know her. I’ve worked with her day in and day out for months. She practically ran the company while I was in the hospital after the helicopter crash. She’s always there when I need her, and I trust her completely.”
Reese stared his brother hard in the face. “I came here to get your input. I never thought the conversation would take this turn. I trust Kenzie. I need to know if I can trust you to stand by a woman I care about. Can you do that?”
Chase’s expression subtly altered. He slid out of the booth and they stood face-to-face. “You’ve always had good instincts, Reese. You wouldn’t have made the company as successful as it is without them. If you believe in this woman, then Bran and I will stand with you. With you and with Kenzie. Whatever you need us to do.”
Reese’s fury ebbed, replaced by a tightness in his chest. When things got tough, Chase and Bran never let him down. “Thank you,” he said.
Chase clapped him on the back. “Okay, then.” A grim smile touched his lips. “Now all we need to do is figure out what in the hell is going on.”
TWENTY-THREE
After what seemed a very long weekend, Kenzie arrived at the office early Monday morning. She was anxious to see Reese, not quite sure where they stood.
She glanced up as the elevator doors slid open and Reese walked out, power and confidence in every long stride as he crossed the deep-pile carpet. Heat washed over her just looking at him. When those crystal blue eyes focused on her like twin laser beams, her stomach contracted in blatant sexual desire.
“Good morning,” he said, nothing more than those few words, but it seemed as if he reached out and touched her. A memory arose of lying with him, of Reese’s mouth on her breasts, of him moving deep inside her.
Ignoring the warmth creeping into her cheeks, she rose from the chair behind her desk. “Are you ready for me?”
He usually just nodded. They always went over his schedule first thing and discussed what needed to be done.
This morning his lips twitched. “I’m definitely ready,” he said.
