by L B Wyatt
“How dare you harass me on my day off,” he growled at her lowly so the others couldn’t hear.
“I apologize, Senator Ross, I didn’t know it was your day off.” Her tone was anything but sorry.
“How’d you get past the front gates?” he wondered, glancing around the greens.
She smiled tight-lipped, but held her tongue. After a moment, Ross rolled his shoulders as if knocking off the burden of her visit and walked around her to shove his tee into the ground. Veronica ignored the other cart in behind the mayor and the fact that they now had even more company. She thought she recognized one of the younger men as Ross’s son, but he was standing a couple of carts away rummaging in his bag. Veronica’s eyes swept over the crowd, counting heads and taking mental notes before she rotated on her heel to face the senator once more. He was squaring up to swing when she approached his side. He glanced up at her as he followed through with a practice swing.
“If you hit the ball like that, it’ll slice for sure,” she stated causing him to straighten his shoulders and look fully at her with a newfound interest.
“What makes you say that?” he demanded, a mix of wonder and contempt in his tone.
She offered him a shrug and simply stated, “It’s your posture. It’s all wrong.”
Ross straightened his back until it was rigid and was working on new ways to stand when his son approached the tee box.
“Everything okay, Dad?” he asked.
His voice was deeper than what Veronica thought it would be. When she looked sidelong at him, she saw that he was older. She combed through the details she’d read in files through her mind and thought perhaps this boy was seventeen or eighteen years old. Ross had two sons, this one was the oldest. He was dressed similarly to his father and favored him a great deal standing there eye-to-eye with Ross.
“Just fine, Caleb, just fine. Now back up a little,” he instructed. “Veronica here is about to show me how to avoid the same slice I made on the last hole.” He smirked at her and Veronica raised an eyebrow at him before taking a step back. The younger man returned to his cart, but not before casting a concerned glance over his shoulder at the detective. She saw him whispering something to his mother out of the corner of her eye.
“It’s your feet. They’re turned out to much,” Veronica advised. She glanced subtly toward the other carts to get a feel for what the guards were up to. They obviously didn’t see her as much of a threat because one of them was setting on a fender and the other was leaning on the side looking bored. The sound of the metal driver meeting the ball called her attention back to the senator and he shielded his eyes from the sun as she watched his ball drop at the edge of the putting green in the distance.
“I’ll be damned,” he muttered.
Indeed, Veronica thought savagely. She waited until he was grinning at her, evidently pleased with his improvement before she spoke.
“Care if I ask you a couple of questions, senator?” she requested politely.
His delight disappeared quickly from his face and a sense of irritation overcame his features. He adjusted his glove, undoing the Velcro and strapping it back on a couple of times before shaking his head. “I don’t think there’s any reason for it, Miss Covey, do you? I told you I don’t even know the name.”
Veronica stepped forward and produced a small wallet-sized picture from her back pocket. She held up Amelia’s smiling face in her senior picture. She watched carefully as Ross held his eyes on Veronica for an aggravated moment before humoring her and dropping his gaze to the photo. His eyes flicked away quickly and he shook his head.
“I don’t recognize her.”
“You sure? My sources tell me she attended a couple of events you were hosting in the past year.”
Ross looked over at his waiting party and leaned forward on the handle of his golf club before turning back to her. “Events that I attend are usually packed with smiling, eager faces, Miss Covey. It would be hard to remember one I may or may not have seen in passing.” He held her gaze for a long time and Veronica didn’t back down.
“Why are you questioning me anyway?” he demanded.
“She’s missing.”
“And you think I had something to do with it? Because she attended a fundraiser?” he scoffed.
“Just trying to be thorough,” she assured, returning the picture to her pocket.
“Perhaps you should do your homework before you bother me with things I know nothing about.”
She smiled sweetly at him and nodded.
“What seems to be so amusing?” he demanded.
She shrugged and looked back at the group, now growing restless and impatient. “I never said she was at a fundraiser.”
When she looked back up at Ross, he seemed to be a little flustered.
“I was just throwing that out there as a guess,” he reasoned.
She stared at him for a while. “You’ve only attended one fundraiser in the past year, Senator. I have the list on my desk at the station. You did RSVP for another, but had to cancel back in November. Since then you’ve attended a few town hall meetings during the holiday recess period, but you haven’t been very sociable in the last six or seven months. Is that enough homework, or should I go on?” she asked calmly.
Ross’s face turned to stone and he looked at her for so long, Veronica thought his eyes might pop out of his head with the strain. She could see the vein in his temple rise as he worked his jaw in anger.
“You should watch yourself, Miss Covey,” he whispered.
“Is that a threat?” she wondered mildly.
His anger dissipated quickly as if he just realized how low he’d let his guard down and he flashed her his best politician smile. “Just a bit of good advice, really,” he clarified. “I think we’re done.”
Veronica lowered her sunglasses back down on the bridge of her nose and smirked again, though it was more like a sneer. “No, senator, I think we’re far from done. But that’ll do for now. Thank you for your time. I hope you have a wonderful day.” Her words dripped with acid as she glanced sidelong at the older man who had started to inch closer. She was sure his big ears were itching for the conversation that could only be heard between herself and Ross.
“Mayor. It’s always nice to see you.” She nodded toward him.
“Wish I could say the same,” he growled at her.
His words made her smile as she turned and walked back toward her cart. She got behind the wheel and headed back to her vehicle. Her interview wasn’t nearly as successful as she wanted it to be, but she had rattled the senator and his reactions only confirmed her suspicions. If she ever had a doubt before, she certainly didn’t now. Senator Ross definitely had something to do with Amelia Mason’s disappearance.
Chapter Three
When Veronica got back to the station, she was still considering a trip to see Amelia’s parents after lunch. She thought perhaps she might invite Merritt to come along. She felt bad about the way she’d been blowing him off lately. She decided it was for his own good, though. If she did get in trouble for investigating the senator unauthorized, it was better if she was caught doing it alone. She looked through the crowded station toward her desk, but she didn’t see Merritt’s dark auburn head there. She figured he went out to finish the robbery case or get himself a bite to eat and she was completely okay with that. She didn’t want to have to explain herself anyway.
Veronica was walking by one of the evidence rooms when she just happened to look up and catch Quinn Murphy’s eye. He was standing beside a corkboard full of evidence, but he wasn’t studying it. No, he was studying her. She felt her heart skip a beat but it was for all the wrong reasons. She wasn’t particularly happy to see him or be the center of his attention right now. No, he wasn’t there at the station because of her. He was there because of the homicide the other night. There was a team huddled in the room with the door closed. She didn’t realize she had stopped in her tracks until an officer pushed by her muttering, “Ex
cuse me,” in a harassed tone.
Veronica stepped out of his way, her eyes never leaving Murphy. He was dressed in a white tee shirt and dark jeans today. His FBI badge hung loosely around his neck. His coal black hair was cut very short and half his handsome face was covered with stubble. It looked like he was trying to grow a beard, or maybe he was just growing tired with this case. Sometimes they tended to run one haggard. But he didn’t look worn—no, he looked sharp and delicious and when her mind took an unhealthy turn, she promptly turned her eyes away.
She could see a few images on the board next to him, but one in particular caught her attention. The whiteboard had several photos of the crime scene. It showed a woman, face down on the concrete. Her face was covered with a splay of blood stained blonde hair and Veronica couldn’t see a good image of the victim’s features. But that wasn’t what disturbed her. It was the close-up photograph of a tattoo on the back of her left hip, visible after she had fallen to her death on the ground. A small compass about the size of a dime. The photographer had zoomed in on it until the image was good and painfully clear.
Veronica’s eyes widened a trace as they turned back to look at Quinn. He was looking at her intently and suddenly she knew the reason for his impromptu visit last night. Having seen all she needed to see, Veronica returned to her desk and gathered a few things. She could see Quinn moving toward the door as if to stop her and say something, but she didn’t need him to say anything. She needed time to think right now and having him question her would only interfere with her figuring this out on her own.
She turned from her desk just then and walked very fast for the parking lot. She was grateful when she got to her vehicle and shut the door without him following her. Veronica didn’t know where she was going to go, but she needed to get away and fast.
When she was a few miles from the station, she picked up her phone and called Merritt. He didn’t sound pleased when he answered.
“Where are you right now?” she asked.
“Double-checking surveillance on this robbery,” he said with distaste.
“What do you know about the case the feds are working on at the station?” she asked directly.
Merritt was quiet for a second then he said, “You mean that homicide?”
“Yeah.”
“Nothing, really. They’ve been kind of hush-hush about it. They don’t even talk when they come out of debriefing.” He paused. “Why?”
“I just left there and it just seems like there’s a lot of feds and badges working on it. I wondered if the vic was high-profile.”
“Not that I’m aware of. I don’t even know if they’ve figured out her name.”
Veronica wasn’t sure why, but that comforted her. She chewed on her lip for a moment as she turned down an unknown street.
“You okay, Covey? Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing,” she lied. “I’ll catch you later. Thanks. And good work on that robbery.” She hung up before she could hear him complain about it. She held her phone to her chin lost in thought. She jumped when it vibrated against her flesh. She looked at the screen to see it was a blocked number. Subconsciously, she slowed the car as she debated whether or not to answer it.
Her hand shook a little as she pressed the green button. “Covey.”
“Veronica,” said a smooth, feminine voice on the other end.
Veronica’s heart plummeted to her toes. She swallowed hard and shook her head with regret for answering. “Aniya,” she greeted through gritted teeth. “It’s been a while.”
“Too long,” Aniya agreed. “How have you been?”
“Cut the bullshit, what do you want?” Veronica demanded.
“Ouch, V, that hurts. I really have missed you.”
Veronica was silent. In truth, she had missed Aniya as well. It had been years since she’d heard the woman’s voice. It was sad that the only friend Veronica felt like she’d ever had was someone she had never even met.
Aniya was part of an organization Veronica had worked at a long time ago. She was the liaison between Veronica and her real boss. The man who called the shots and eventually ended up firing Veronica for insubordination. But that was definitely bitter thoughts saved for rehashing later on. She was still raw about the entire thing, but she wasn’t going to dwell on it.
Aniya was a voice only; her appearance was one that Veronica had had to envision over the time they’d known each other. The image that came to mind each time they spoke was of a woman who meant business. Aniya was intelligent and witty, ever the calm presence in the midst of a storm. Nothing ruffled her feathers and nothing got by her astute intuition either. She had called Veronica out on her feelings for their former boss long before Veronica herself even knew they were becoming a problem. This had both impressed and enraged Veronica. At first, Veronica had been in denial and then when things had ended the way they ended, she was left to realize just how right her friend had been.
And then Veronica had faced the loneliness that followed not having frequent conversations with someone who both challenged her and called her out when she was getting out of line. Often times, Aniya had found Veronica’s harsh sarcasm and judgmental comments amusing rather than offensive. And perhaps that’s why they had always gotten along. Aniya was certainly someone who could handle herself against hard-to-deal-with people like Veronica Covey.
“If you’re as sharp as you used to be, I assume you already have an idea of why I’m calling.” Aniya’s words were smooth as velvet when she spoke.
Veronica nodded even though the gesture couldn’t be seen on the other end of the phone. Her silence was all the confirmation the clever woman on the other end of the line needed in order to move the conversation along.
“What do you know?” Aniya questioned.
“Not much,” Veronica confessed, but it was a lie. Most likely, she knew too much. Otherwise her former coworker wouldn’t start calling out of the blue. An image of the dead girl’s tattoo plastered on the evidence board at work flashed through Veronica’s mind followed by a heavy dose of guilt. She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles were white and wrestled with her conscience until she had the damn thing roped back in.
“I’ll text you a location. Twenty minutes.” There was a deafening click on the other end of the line. Boy, Veronica hadn’t missed that. She pressed the red button on her phone and worked her jaw in anger. She tossed the phone into the passenger’s seat and gripped the steering wheel even tighter.
No, no, no, she whispered in her mind frantically. I cannot and will not get sucked into this again. I can’t.
Her phone buzzed. She had the option of looking at the text or ignoring it. She worked her jaw some more, remembering how disappointed she was when she answered the phone to start with. She cut her eyes over at the device and shook her head fervently.
Nope, she decided.
Not again.
She knew the text contained an address and if Veronica complied, she would go to whatever business the address belonged to and Aniya would call there. Using a random phone at a random coffee shop, dress store or wherever they decided was a trick her old colleague used to remain anonymous to outside trackers. Veronica wasn’t going to do it this time.
Not ever again.
She turned her vehicle around in the parking lot of a CVS and headed back toward an address she’d memorized from earlier that day. She wasn’t going to be intimidated by anyone or anything. Not an old flame and certainly not her old employer.
No, she had things to do right now.
Within half an hour, she was pulling into the driveway of a small, but well-kept home on the outside of the city. It was tucked away in a rural part of the area. The brick house had no garage attached and no other out buildings or anything around the property. It sat by itself at the end of a short driveway with only two small trees nestled close to the porch steps in the petite manicured lawn.
There was an older silver Buick parked in front of her and Veronica stare
d at the back of it as she collected her thoughts. She wanted to be focused on the right things before knocking on that door. She had been horrifically distracted from her goals today and she was not about to let Aniya, her dickhead former boss, or Quinn Murphy get the best of her.
What the hell? she thought suddenly. Why were the people of her past suddenly all back in one day to irritate the piss out of her? She shook her head again, shaking out the negative notions and let out a deep breath, expelling everything. When she inhaled, she was ready to get out and head up the steps.
She knocked on the door and within a few minutes, a small woman was peeking through the curtain. Veronica watched the stranger’s eyes narrow a little in suspicion. However, she still cracked the door open wide enough to say, “Can I help you?”
“Are you Darlene Mason?”
“Yes,” the woman replied, allowing the door to open a notch more.
Veronica flashed her badge and introduced herself. “I’m Detective Covey, I’m working on your daughter’s missing persons case. Do you mind if I ask you a few things?”
“Not at all!” Darlene pushed the door to and Veronica heard the sound of the chain lock sliding loose. The door opened wide and Veronica walked on in. Her eyes swept over the quaint quarters. The living room was to the right and a hallway straight ahead to the kitchen.
“Please, come in and have a seat!” Darlene insisted. “Have you gotten any new news on my sweet Amelia?” she questioned eagerly.
“Not yet,” Veronica said looking fully at the woman once they were both seated on the pale blue sofa. Amelia’s mother was wispy to say the least. She looked like a stiff wind could possibly blow her away. Her cheeks were sunken and brown eyes were ringed with dark circles. Her hair was off, Veronica noted. It just didn’t fit the woman’s face very well. It was a terrible mousy brown with a bob cut that tucked just beneath her sharp jaw.