by Pamela Clare
“It’s covered with documents. Sorry. You can just put it here on the coffee table.” Quickly she moved her notes aside, the smell of bacon making her mouth water. “And, yes, I’m very comfortable. Thank you.”
“Is there anything else I can get you?”
“No, thanks.” She waited until he’d gone to dive into her breakfast. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this hungry.
She reached for the remote and switched on the television and then surfed for the news. Being in the hospital and shut up in the hotel left her feeling cut off from the world. For all she knew, space aliens were parked over Washington, D.C., and peace had broken out in the Middle East.
Nell Parker’s heavily made-up face and brassy blond hair popped onto the plasma screen television in such sharp detail that Kara almost winced. At thirty-five, the popular anchorwoman had already had her first lift.
“—was found dead this morning in the Capitol Hill neighborhood. She had been shot twice through the head. Police say there was no indication that she had been sexually assaulted, but until autopsy results are available later this week they can’t be certain.
“While police said they could not discuss possible motives for the murder, a source close to the investigation told News 12 that the senator had reportedly been intimate with the deceased but that the two had become estranged.
“Again, police are currently conducting a search at the home of State Senator Reece Sheridan, who is believed to be the primary suspect in the shooting death of Alexis Ryan, a Denver lobbyist. Sheridan has reportedly agreed to submit voluntarily to questioning by police and is expected to accompany them within the hour from his office at the state Capitol to the justice center. We’ll have more on this breaking story as it unfolds.”
Kara stared at the television screen, her breakfast forgotten, blood pounding in her ears.
No! This wasn’t possible! There’s no way Reece could have murdered anyone! The police must have made some kind of terrible mistake.
She grabbed the remote and flew through the channels. Dog food. Mr. Clean. Minivan. Tampons. Oprah.
“—is expected to accompany the police to the Denver Justice Center for questioning at any moment in the alleged murder of his former lover, Alexis Ryan. We’re here on the west steps of the Capitol, where only moments ago several officers from the Denver Police Department entered the building.”
Hands trembling, Kara turned down the volume, grabbed for the phone, and dialed Tessa’s cell number. One ring. Two. “Answer it, Tess!”
“Kara? Bless your heart! Aren’t you supposed to be sequestered in a nunnery or something?”
“He didn’t do it, Tess. He couldn’t have done it.”
Tessa was quiet for a moment. “It looks bad, Kara. They found a nine-millimeter handgun in his briefcase this morning, and they found a bloody tarp in the Dumpster behind his condo. They’ve got a search warrant for his home and his vehicle and have taken his Jeep into custody for forensic testing. He says he was at home alone and asleep last night, so he has no viable alibi. He admits that he had a fling with her a couple years ago and that the two of them haven’t gotten along since she tried to trade sex for votes. But he swears he didn’t kill her.”
Then it dawned on Kara. “The TV stations don’t have any of this. Did he give you an interview?”
“Yeah. An exclusive.”
Kara closed her eyes and fought the lump that was trying to form in her throat. She knew this was Reece’s way of reaching out to her, his way of asking her to trust him. He’d granted her paper an exclusive at a time when he needed every bit of good ink he could get. What an idiot! “How’d he look?”
“He looked pretty good, considering—got a cute bow tie on with suspenders. Classy.”
“No, I mean how did he seem to you?”
“He’s pretty shaken up, but he looks good, truly, Kara. He said he was certain the evidence would prove his innocence.”
“God, I hope so, because he is innocent.” She knew it just as she knew the sky was blue and the sun would come up in the morning. “Who’s his attorney?”
“He has declined counsel.”
“What?” Kara was on her feet now, pacing. “The cops will shred him to ribbons!”
“He says he has nothing to hide and therefore doesn’t need an attorney.” Tessa said something to someone else, and Kara heard Joaquin’s voice in the background. “They’re coming out now. I’ve got to go.”
Kara hung up and turned up the volume on the TV.
“—walking down the west steps of the Capitol now.”
Kara’s heart gave a sick thud, and pain sliced through her stomach. Two officers flanked Reece as he walked gracefully down the steps and toward the squad car, jacket tossed over his shoulder. His head was high, but Kara could see the grim set of his jaw, the tension that brewed just beneath his skin.
The crowd of reporters pressed in on him with cameras and microphones and threw questions in his face, some of them rude.
“Is it true you’ve agreed to submit to a lie-detector test, Senator?”
“How do you respond to reports the murder weapon was found in your possession?”
“Will you confirm that you and Alexis Ryan were lovers?”
“Where does Kara McMillan fit into the picture?”
Reece stopped short and looked toward the television cameras. “I wish to express my condolences to Ms. Ryan’s family. I have every confidence the Denver Police Department will discover who took her life and that justice will be served. The police will have my full cooperation throughout their investigation.”
Kara saw the anger and humiliation in his eyes. She knew what this was costing him, felt his pain as if it were her own. He’d become a senator to be a better teacher, to prove to his students that one person could make a difference, to show the world that it was possible to hold political office without bending to the corruption that so often went with it. And now he was on display before the world as a murder suspect.
The police pushed through the crowd, opened the door of the squad car, and with a hand on Reece’s head, guided him into the backseat. Then the door slammed shut, and he disappeared from view. The siren chirped twice in warning, parting the crowd, and the squad car drew slowly away from the curb.
Kara was halfway to the door, her purse in hand, when she remembered. She wasn’t going anywhere.
PICTURES OF Alexis, her skull blown open, her eyes staring at nothing, lay on the table before Reece. Rage was a slow burn in his gut. No matter how much he had despised her, she hadn’t deserved what had happened to her. No one deserved this. He hoped whoever had done this to her would soon be sitting where he was sitting.
“Let’s get this straight. You argued with the deceased yesterday afternoon. Then you went back to your office, where you worked until approximately twenty-three-thirty.”
“That’s correct.” Reece stared into the skinny cop’s gray eyes. They’d been questioning him in this miserable little room for two hours nonstop. The skinny one, whose name was Charlie, was playing good cop, while the fat one, whose name was Stan, was clearly playing bad cop. They had grilled him on every aspect of his relationship with Alexis, on every step he’d taken yesterday evening. And yet it didn’t seem to satisfy them.
Stan leaned across the table and spoke in a low and menacing voice. “And while you were in your office, the things she said really ate at you and pissed you off. You decided to track her down and have it out, didn’t you? You grabbed your gun, tracked her down, and blew her brains out. Then you wrapped her in the tarp and dumped her in the park.”
“No, I didn’t. As I’ve already told you, I think someone is trying to frame me. I didn’t give Alexis another thought after I turned my back on her. I went up to my office and did several hours of research on the Internet, which the browser on my computer ought to be able to confirm. I left the office at eleven-thirty, drove directly home, watched CNN for a while, and then went to sleep. I didn�
��t see Alexis after our argument at all.”
“That’s a lie, Senator!” Stan’s face grew red. “We got a bloody tarp pulled out of a trash bin behind your condo. We got an eyewitness who swears he saw a man fitting your description dump a woman’s body in the park and drive away at oh-one-hundred. The numbers he saw on the license plate are a match for yours, Senator. You were there! You killed her!”
Reece kept his voice calm, well aware that the interview was being watched from the other side of the one-way mirror. “No, sir, I didn’t, but someone clearly wants you to think I did. I slept alone in my condo until six this morning, when I got up, went to the gym, showered, and then came into the Capitol.”
In truth he’d lain awake half the night, thinking not of Alexis and his petty argument with her, but of Kara, who was somewhere out there. Surely by now she’d seen the news and knew he was a suspect. Would she believe him guilty? Would she want to put off their relationship until he was cleared? Had she found the TexaMent connection and decided he was nothing but a liar?
Worse than the potential damage to his political career, worse than the knowledge that someone wanted to destroy him, was his fear that he’d lost any chance he’d had at building a life with her.
He loved her.
He wasn’t sure when he’d realized it. Perhaps when, afraid and in pain, she’d admitted that she needed him. Perhaps the first time she’d come for him, lost herself against his hand. Perhaps that first night when she’d had too much to drink and had given him a hard-on just by asking ridiculous questions.
A part of him still struggled to grasp what was happening. He’d just gotten to his desk at the Capitol when two police officers had showed up at his office and begun to question him. He hadn’t known Alexis was dead until they’d told him. The news had stunned Reece, but no more so than the realization that he was a suspect. He’d answered all their questions, and when they’d asked to search his Jeep and his office, he had been happy to comply. Then they’d found the Sphinx.
They didn’t seem to care that he had a concealed-carry permit. In a blink, they’d gotten a warrant to search his home and had continued to badger him for details regarding his whereabouts last night and his relationship with Alexis. Within an hour, a forensics team claimed to have found a blood-soaked canvas tarp in the trash bin behind his house and he’d become not only a suspect, but their prime suspect.
It was like a nightmare, only Reece couldn’t seem to wake up.
Charlie gave Reece a sympathetic nod of the head. “I understand, Senator. Really I do. You’re in a new relationship now with the reporter. You’ve been under a lot of strain with her being attacked and almost killed. Up comes Alexis Ryan. She insults your new girlfriend, and it all crashes in on you. You pop. It happens every day. Admit that you killed her in an uncontrollable rage, and you’re looking at murder two. With your record—”
Reece leaned forward, disgusted. “I didn’t kill her! I didn’t so much as touch her! Someone is trying to frame me here! Do you really think I’d be so stupid as to murder someone and keep evidence of the crime in my briefcase?”
Stan glared at him. “When the forensics come in on this you’re going to be arrested and then you’re going to fry!”
Reece rolled his eyes. “Actually, the current means of execution in Colorado is lethal injection.”
“You’re a real smart ass, aren’t you buddy?”
The door opened, and Chief Irving stepped in. “Charlie, Stan, take five.”
The two cops stood, shared a questioning look, and then strode out of the room.
Irving shut the door behind them, pushed back a chair, and sat. “Hell of a day you’re having, Senator.”
Reece leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over his face. “Yeah.”
“I’m going to tell you something that might surprise you.”
“What could that be?”
“I believe you. I don’t think you had a damned thing to do with Ms. Ryan’s murder.”
Reece met Irving’s gaze and saw that he wasn’t joking. “Why is that, Chief?”
“For one thing, forensics turned up no trace of blood in your Jeep. Nada. It seems unlikely to me that you could transport her body in a blood-soaked tarp and not get a single drop of blood in your vehicle. That casts some doubt on our anonymous tipster. If he saw your Jeep dumping the body, there should be blood. If there’s no blood, I don’t see how it could be your Jeep, and our tipster could be lying.”
That was the best news Reece had heard in hours. “I didn’t kill her.”
“I know it.” Irving nodded. “For another thing, the lab says there was no powder residue on your skin, and your piece hasn’t been fired since the last time you cleaned it.”
The suffocating knot of dread that had been building in Reece’s chest began to loosen. “The last time I fired it was about six months ago.”
“But more than that, Senator, I don’t think you’d be stupid enough to commit a homicide, drive the body to a highly public location, throw a tarp with the victim’s blood on it into your own damned trash can, and then keep the weapon on you. You might be a politician, but you’re not an idiot.”
Despite his situation, Reece grinned. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me all day.”
“It all goes together too well. An anonymous tip leads us to the body, gives us your license plate number and the make and model of your vehicle. The victim has a sexual history with you, a history that includes public confrontations. The bloody tarp is found behind your building. A weapon is found in your possession. Hell, this case is wrapped up so pretty you might as well put a bow on it. I’ve been a cop for thirty years, and my gut tells me something’s off.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying all morning.”
“Of course, we’re still waiting for the autopsy results and ballistic tests. If the slugs that come out of her brain match your weapon, you’re going to be in a hell of a lot of trouble. In the meantime, you might be able to cut through some of the bullshit by agreeing to a polygraph.”
“Fine. I said I’d cooperate, and I meant it. The sooner your officers quit wasting time with me the sooner they’ll find the real murderer.”
Irving nodded. “If you don’t mind, I’ve got a question for you myself.”
“Ask it.”
“Who’s out to get you, Senator?”
CHAPTER 24
* * *
KARA TRIED to focus on the papers in her hands but found it almost impossible to keep her gaze off the television. At least once an hour, the local stations ran the footage of Reece being escorted down the steps and into the squad car, together with an update from outside the Denver Justice Center. There was nothing new to report, but it was clear that behind the scenes the research drones were digging.
The noon broadcast painted Reece as a good man who’d possibly gone wrong and included the photograph of him shouting into Galen’s face. By one, he was a man with a dark side whose dislike for the victim and unpredictable temper were common knowledge at the Capitol. This time, the photo of him shouting at Galen was contrasted with photographs of Alexis Ryan as an innocent schoolgirl and a beautiful, successful woman. By two, they’d gotten an interview with the victim’s weeping parents, whose grief was juxtaposed with Reece’s fury.
Kara sat on the carpeted floor surrounded by documents, her stomach tied in knots of helpless rage. She knew lynch-mob reporting when she saw it. There wasn’t one shred of forensic evidence to tie Reece to the lobbyist’s death, yet he’d already been tried and convicted in the media. The man they described was not the man she knew, but she couldn’t very well speak out publicly on his behalf, not when she, too, was investigating him.
My God, had she actually been thinking of calling one of the news stations and complaining about their coverage? Yes, she had. The thought pushed her to her feet, and she began to pace the room.
What exactly would she have said? He can’t have murdered anyone because he was kin
d and gentle with my son? He’s innocent because no man who makes love like he does could ever kill a woman? He didn’t kill anyone because I’m in love with him?
The realization drove the air from her lungs. She sank into an armchair and buried her face in her hands. So much for objectivity, McMillan.
Perhaps she should turn this story over to someone else. Perhaps her mind was so clouded with emotion that she was unable to do her job. After all, Reece, through his tire-burning bill, was the only member of the Legislative Audit Committee she’d been able to tie to Northrup, but she still refused to believe he was involved with any of this.
Would she have felt the same way if she didn’t know him personally?
No. She would have looked at the evidence objectively, and she would have assumed she’d found the guilty party.
And she would have been wrong.
It was a strange realization that left Kara feeling unsettled. She’d made a career out of piecing facts together. She’d followed logic, followed the evidence, and it had never led her astray. And now she was ready to toss both facts and logic out the window for some kind of—what? Emotional insight?
What a damned mess this is.
She leaned back in the chair, took as deep a breath as her healing ribs would allow, and fought to clear her mind. Her investigation was incomplete. Like a puzzle with too many pieces missing, the picture created by the information she’d acquired so far was deceptive. She didn’t know what the missing pieces were, but she needed to find them.
Her next thought had her sitting upright, pulse racing. What if whoever was after her had killed Alexis Ryan? What if whoever wanted her dead was trying to hurt Reece now that she was beyond their reach? After all, media coverage of the attack had linked the two of them. Whoever was trying to kill her surely knew she and Reece were at least friends. Or what if Reece had uncovered something during his own investigation that they didn’t want him to know?