“So, now what?”
“You go back to Jordan and get the hard facts.”
“I don’t know about that. Now that the sheriff’s involved, he may have other plans.”
“When Gray saw all you’d accomplished, it was actually his idea. Why should he put someone undercover when you’re already in place?”
Gray’s idea? Diana pressed her back again the passenger side door and folded her arms. When Brad had asked her to stay on at the plant, Diana had said yes in a heartbeat. At another’s request, she resented not being consulted.
All right, ninety-nine percent of her wanted to return to Jordan. To leave before solving this case would mean Leo had died for nothing. And Liz’s patient, the fact that he’d mentioned Jordan? Didn’t that prove a connection?
But her career. If she didn’t get back to Dallas soon, everything she’d worked for was over. Her heart was filled with indecision. “I’m not sure I can go back to the plant. Why doesn’t Gray notify the EPA? Leo’s dead, Liz’s patient is, too. Isn’t that evidence enough to bring in a federal agency?”
“It’s a start. But Gray told me tonight he’s not ready to call in the EPA. Calling in a government agency brings the FBI, and other law enforcement agencies. He’s a cop first and foremost. He’d like a crack at this case without the big boy’s interference.”
“So it’s down to ego?”
“That, and truly not having enough evidence.”
“How can you say that? What about the conversation I overheard in the hallway about the ten o’clock rendezvous?”
“What does that prove? Jordan’s a twenty-four-hour-a-day operation. Maybe the people you overheard were planning a meeting with second and third shift supervisors. Big deal.”
“The journal we saw in Leo’s apartment? It listed names, dates, even chemicals with Leo’s comments.”
Grimacing, Brad stared straight ahead. “The crime scene investigators didn’t find one.”
Diana dropped her jaw. “What?”
“Sometime between the hours we left, and before the investigators arrived to search Leo’s apartment, someone else entered and stole that binder. With the exception of Leo, you and I are the only ones who saw it. We’re Gray’s only leads.”
Diana stared back at Brad. “Oh, shit.”
“That about covers it. Whether we like it or not, you and I are up to our suspicious necks in this mess. By the way, I know why the police found my fingerprints on file; I’ve had to be cleared working in government. Why did they find yours?”
“I’ve been around a few crime scenes in my career.”
His eyes narrowed. “But don’t you arrive after the fact?”
Diana twisted her lips. “I may have gotten there first a time or two.”
“Of course you did.”
They sat in silence a few moments, the only light emitted from the vehicle’s parking lights. Diana slid a surreptitious look Brad’s way, studying his profile, and the way his well-proportioned body filled the Navigator. Despite their constant sparring, she couldn’t argue the magnetism she felt for this man.
Tonight, he’d defended her as if she were the love of his life. He thought Snake Charmer Road brought back unpleasant memories? She’d treasure this place forever.
As always, he seemed to gauge her inappropriate thoughts. He reached down and switched off the cellular phone on the floorboard, a none-too-subtle reminder their relationship was clandestine and off-limits. The gesture brought Diana’s inventive mind hurtling back to earth.
Again, she’d read more into this evening than he had. The only reason he’d defended her was out of a sense of obligation. She pressed her hand to her heart, missing the locket she’d removed once and for all. Dammit, she’d been trying.
“Did I thank you for tonight?” she asked finally.
The corners of his mouth curved upward. “Once or twice.”
“I was so relieved. When those deputies arrived at the Drifter’s Inn—”
“Revenge isn’t my style, Diana.” Irritation laced his voice. “I would never set you up.”
“After everything I’ve put you through . . .” Her throat felt like putty. “You have every right to hate me.”
Was it her imagination or did he grip the steering wheel tighter?
Brad started the car. “We should get you back to the motel. What do you want me to tell Gray about Jordan?”
Diana stared out into a sky verging on twilight. “I don’t think I have a choice. Tell him I’m in.”
Chapter Twenty-six
AT SIX A.M., BRAD stepped out of the shower to prepare for an eight a.m. conference. Toweling dry, he closed the distance from the four-poster bed to the closet. As long as Diana was in town, perhaps he should stop scheduling his meetings so early. If he’d known how long the session with Gray Tafoya, Neil, and Diana would take, and what time he’d get home this morning, Brad might have arranged his calendar to begin at—say, maybe—noon?
A knock sounded on the door and he paused. No one ever came to his room. Up until his grandfather’s stroke, Brad had lived in Diamond. He’d returned to the ranch as a favor to his dad. Further, his dad was out of town, and his grandfather no longer took the stairs.
Fearing Gloria had come to deliver the next wave of bad news, he held his breath. He wrapped the towel around his midsection, cracked the door, and openly smiled.
Sue stood in the hallway, a white paper sack in one hand, and in the other, a to-go cup.
He opened the door.
She lifted an eyebrow. “Good, you’re not decent. May I come in?”
A grin crossed his lips. “I wish you would.” He took the coffee from her hand and kissed her. “New outfit?”
“Yep.” She performed a comical version of a pirouette. “You like?”
He smiled. He liked a lot. The blue ensemble had a fitted, classy look. One of the hardest things he’d had to do while running for office was to ask her to tone down her wardrobe. It was an unfair request, and he’d told her so. With Susan’s body, she could be draped in a sackcloth and still turn heads.
“You look terrific.”
“You look tired.” Brushing his hair out of his eyes, she gave him a worried once-over. “I can’t believe the sheriff kept you so late.”
Brad shrugged and sipped the coffee. “He’s got a murder to solve. What’s in the bag?”
Susan removed a chocolate donut covered with multicolored sprinkles.
He eyed it in approval. “Wow, babe, you got me covered. Thanks.”
Brad took a bite and offered her one, but she shook her head and smiled. “I’d rather have what’s beneath the towel.”
He set the coffee and donut on the dresser and pulled her against him. “Did you set up the appointment with the realtor?” He traced his lips down her neck.
“The broker said the owners will be out of town this weekend, and we can see it anytime.” She sighed and relaxed in his arms. “On paper, it looks perfect. I don’t want to lose it. Are you okay with making an offer before we’re married?”
“If we both like it, sure.”
She stiffened and untwined her arms. “Why do all your responses have to come with an if? I’m trying, are you?”
“There is no try in this case. I have to like the house.” But even as he made his point, the truth bit him in the ass. As long as Diana had remained in Dallas, he’d been able to put her out of his head. Now that she’d come back to Diamond, no matter how much he’d denied his feelings, they still existed.
But then, he loved the woman in his arms as well.
How could this have happened, and so quickly? One week ago, he’d had no doubts and had been ready to move on. In seven days, Diana had turned his orderly world topsy-turvy.
“I’m sure I’ll love the ho
use. The last few days have been crazy, that’s all. I’ve been totally unfair to you.”
Susan closed her eyes. “Apology accepted.”
They shared another kiss, after which, she grinned up at him. “Sure you won’t take off that towel?”
Brad groaned.
“Ordinarily, I wouldn’t care that I go out of my way to bring you a donut, and you refuse to make it up to me,” Susan said, laughing. “But your friend the sheriff wants to see me this morning.”
“Did he say why?”
“He wants a list of everyone Leo’s ever worked with.”
Brad scoffed. “Pretty tall order.”
“Yep, and why I’m going in so early. Leo’s been at Jordan for years. I want to look through his files, and make a list of any of his former supervisors.” Susan searched Brad’s face. “Does Gray think Neil had something to do with Leo’s death?”
“Not after last night’s interview, I don’t think so.”
“What a relief.” She put a hand to her breast and sighed. “Neil couldn’t kill anyone.”
Brad appreciated her loyalty.
She walked to the poster bed. Using the bedpost for support, she sat. “That doesn’t mean I think he’s a good company president. Many of Neil’s managers think he makes irrational decisions. I’ve been told that most will go to Vic Hagen for answers before they’ll go to Neil.”
Hagen. Brad scratched the jaw he’d yet to shave. His father had hired Vic years ago, showing confidence in the chemical engineer and promoting him steadily. Did Sue know what she was saying, or had she formed her opinions out of dislike?
Neil had been ordered to hire Susan, something he’d resented like hell. The company had been interviewing HR managers for months, and was on the cusp of offering another candidate the job. Still, Mark Lewis, Susan’s father, was a longtime family friend. He’d worried his daughter lacked confidence after her divorce and asked John for the favor. Because she was qualified, and a vacancy existed in the department, John hadn’t felt he could refuse.
“If you’re thinking Neil’s incompetent, you’re wrong. Not only does he have the technical expertise, he’s been groomed for the position.”
“I never said incompetent. I said irrational. Your brother also has a tremendous ego. He’s also aware of the rumors, and now he practically shuns Vic’s advice. An effective leader listens, darling.”
A throbbing pain formed over Brad’s left eye. What kind of decisions was she talking about? As for poor decisions, had Leo been one of them? “I hope you’re staying out of the company politics. You’re last name’s soon to be Jordan.”
She rose from the bed. “And I can’t wait. Trust me, the only politician I want in my life is you. Will I see you tonight?”
An image of Diana flashed in Brad’s mind, along with a hefty dose of guilt. Why was he even contemplating what she might be doing this evening?
Like Brad, Gray had vetoed her spying on the plant’s perimeter. He now had deputies doing the job. Her assignment was to observe the inner workings only, avoid unnecessary risks, and report back. Problem was, Diana considered every risk necessary.
“Brad?”
He redirected his thoughts to the woman he should be thinking about. “I’ll call when I get off work. And we’ll talk more about those wedding plans.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
THURSDAY MORNING, John stood in Congressman Bill Harrison’s ninth floor waiting room. Harrison’s executive assistant had admitted John. If she’d been dismayed over his lack of an appointment, she’d shown the good sense to never let on.
Staring out the window, he checked his watch. Ordinarily, visiting Austin would bring back fond memories. Both Neil and Brad had attended the University of Texas a few short blocks away.
Directly in front of John, he faced the Texas State capitol. A glance in the opposite direction revealed the bridge overlooking the Colorado River.
But John hadn’t come to Austin to sightsee or reminisce. In his hand he held a briefcase, and as he thought of its contents, he clutched the handle tighter.
Harrison’s assistant reentered the reception area and smiled. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Jordan. If the congressman had known of your arrival—”
“I was in town,” John lied. “Do you expect him soon?”
“Thursday mornings Congressman Harrison has breakfast with his staff. Sometimes he comes straight here. Other times . . .” She held out her hands as if she could offer no guarantees.
“I’ll wait,” John said tersely.
For eight years, the file in his briefcase had gone undisturbed in a safety deposit box in El Paso. An hour or two longer could do no more damage than the contents had already done.
John paced the room. Soon, the woman returned with a cup of coffee. He took it, and nodded his thanks.
An hour later, Bill Harrison, flanked by a tall young man and a slender young woman, walked through the door.
“John?”
He put down the Austin Capitol Times and stood.
The congressman advanced and extended his hand. His cropped brown hair bore traces of white, evidence that as with John, time had taken its toll. “What a surprise. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to town? I would’ve met you at the airport.”
John forced a smile. “Spur of the moment decision. I need a few minutes.”
The politician’s expression turned serious. “Certainly.” He acknowledged his staff. “We’ll discuss the Thompson legislation this afternoon. Three o’clock.”
Dismissed, his subordinates left the room.
Bill slapped John between the shoulder blades. “Man, it’s good to see you. Let’s step into my office.”
Once seated behind a grand oak desk, Harrison asked, “What brings you to Austin?”
Feeling the confines of the chair, John rose and wandered the politician’s office. Several framed photographs, including Harrison shaking hands with the president, digging ditches amidst his constituents, and standing with the boy scouts, reinforced the man’s squeaky-clean image. For the hundredth time since John had opened the file, he wondered. “Do you recall our conversation on Monday?”
Bill grinned. “I may be going senile, but I can remember the past few days. Sure I do.”
“My father never discussed Benton Reid’s disappearance with me.” Fixing his gaze on the man he’d considered to be a friend, John couldn’t hide an accusatory tone. “Dammit, Bill, I can’t understand why you didn’t see fit to enlighten me.”
Bill Harrison’s graying brows drew together. “Naturally, I assumed you’d be privy to it. Clayton said something about his grandson getting married. He wanted to know more about this young woman’s family.”
Opening his briefcase, John removed the file. Unable to curb his anger, he tossed it on the congressman’s desk. “Did Clayton pay you to quash this? Is that what happened?”
Bill’s eyes darkened. “I suggest you sit down, John, and calm yourself. Before you tie me to a spit, give me an opportunity to refresh my recollection. It’s been a few years.”
Bill opened the file and perused the contents. His normally congenial face vanished. Looking up, he met John’s stare. “Is this a joke?”
“I find nothing amusing about the United States of America accusing Benton Reid of treason. The allegations in this file are obscene. The State Department has written Mrs. Reid numerous times that her husband’s a hero. He’s been awarded the Medal of Honor. I’ve seen the letters. Yet, your report claims Reid is alive and well and that the son of a bitch sacrificed his crew to save his traitorous neck!” John curled his hand into a fist. “I want to know why his wife was never told.”
Ignoring John’s outburst, Bill continued to read. Minutes later, he looked up. “I’ve never seen this report in my life.”
&nb
sp; John groaned. “Is that, or is that not, your signature?”
Bill flipped to the last page of the report. “Sure as hell looks like it, but I swear to you, John, I never signed anything like this.” After a tense silence, he picked up the phone. “Todd, get in here.”
The lanky young man John had seen previously with the congressman entered. Eyes wide, his expression wary, he asked, “Congressman?”
“I don’t care how you do it or how much storage you have to wade through. I want you to find my report to Clayton Jordan dated twelve April, 1997.” The congressman stood. “Forget the Thompson legislation for the time being. As of now, that report is your top priority.”
The young man bobbed his head once and left the room.
The congressman and John stared at each other. Bill was the first to find his voice. “This obviously is an altered report. I can’t remember exactly, but my report in no way made these types of claims. What was your daddy up to?” Then, in a troubled voice, Bill added, “How many people have seen this?”
John slumped into the chair and pressed a thumb and a forefinger against his eyes. “No one. Except a frightened young girl. In my father’s nonsensical mind, he thought he was protecting my son.”
“Hell, John, I’m sorry for you.”
The heat coursing through John’s veins turned glacial, and he was alarmed at the depth of rage pulsating through him. To hell with appearances, he could no longer hide his disdain. In Clayton Jordan’s attempt to play God, he had deprived Brad and Diana of their happiness—torn good people apart.
Standing, John collected the file. “Don’t feel sorry for me. Feel sorry for my father.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
THE DAY AFTER Leo’s body was found in a shallow grave, Jordan Industries turned from a chemical processing plant into a zoo. Every once in a while, during Diana’s mailroom distribution, she’d run into a deputy. Once, she even encountered Sheriff Tafoya who’d taken over the conference room across from the lobby to conduct interviews.
Buried Agendas Page 16