He wondered about that. Seventy years old, fifty plus of those years a smoker, her lungs were probably black as night. But one thing he’d learned about Renee was that she did what she wanted when she wanted and damned be anyone who didn’t like it.
“You’ll do it.”
“You know I will. Send me what you have. I’ll get back to you in a day or two.”
“Thank you.”
“You’ll thank me by hauling your ass up here and introducing me to your girl.”
“Hell, no. One night with you telling stories about me and she might run away.”
“Any girl who runs from you is a fucking idiot.”
“Love ya, Renee.”
“Right back at you.” She hung up.
Sean sent off the information he had on the property, then turned his attention to Mona Hill’s current residence. She didn’t have a large digital footprint—she was smart, he’d give her that—but she had a small one. And all it took was basic information for him to get what he wanted. He found her email address through one of her creditors, then backtraced it to find her internet service provider.
Now he needed to cross from the gray area into the black.
He pulled out his secure laptop. It took him nearly an hour to tweak a virus he’d written long ago so that it could worm its way into Mona Hill’s computer and phone—wherever she checked her email. He had to be extremely careful so as not to alert the ISP that he was planting a virus. But one thing he’d learned in his years as a hacker was that businesses were looking for the big hack—the people and foreign governments who were looking to extract vast quantities of information like secrets, credit card information, political dirt. A small, targeted virus was far less likely to be detected. And if Sean’s was detected, it would send the ISP all over the world in search of a ghost. It wouldn’t be worth their time because nothing was being stolen.
He just needed to access Mona Hill’s computer. He’d much prefer to simply break into her apartment, but he couldn’t afford to get caught. This way would take longer, but it was much safer.
When he was satisfied that his virus would work as modified, he uploaded it through the ISP’s own web form. If they even noticed, they wouldn’t trace it to him.
Once Mona Hill checked her email from her computer, he would be able to remotely access her hard drive.
If she really did have the video of Lucy’s rape, he would destroy it.
Then he would destroy her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Lucy and Barry arrived at Adeline Reyes-Worthington’s house just after ten that morning. Barry had called ahead to make sure she was there, and while her house manager or personal assistant or whatever she called Joseph Contreras had tried to put them off until later, Barry was firm.
When they were admitted through the gates, Lucy had the distinct impression that she was being watched. Though years ago she had thought the feeling, originally born out of violence, was paranoia, she’d grown to appreciate the instinct. She certainly didn’t dismiss it, so eyed the surroundings carefully.
“What are you doing?” Barry asked.
“There are armed guards all over this place.”
“Where?”
“Right inside the gate was the first one I saw, watching our car from behind the small grove of ash trees. Then two are by the house, they slipped around back when we pulled through. There’ll be another one, to the left, but I haven’t spotted him yet.”
Barry glanced in the rearview mirror and nodded. “I see the one by the gate. How do you know there’s another to the left?”
“I have good instincts when it comes to people watching me.” She didn’t care if he believed her, and she wasn’t going to explain why. Even she didn’t fully understand why—she was just relieved that she didn’t panic anymore when the sensation of being watched washed over her.
There was a car in the circular drive when they arrived. They parked behind it, and knocked on the front door.
Joseph Contreras, opened the door. “As the congresswoman said earlier, this is not a good time to talk.”
“And as I told you over the phone,” Barry said, “we need to speak with her now. We have news about her husband’s death.”
“You could have said that when you called.”
“I didn’t think that there would be a problem seeing her.”
Barry didn’t blink or defer, and Lucy had to admire his ability to command a situation.
Mr. Contreras hesitated only a fraction of a second before opening the door and motioning for them to enter. “The congresswoman is in a meeting. I’ll let her know that you are waiting.”
Lucy looked casually around, then whispered to Barry, “There’s another guard inside, dressed in a dark suit. He slipped down the hall when Contreras opened the door.”
“I caught that, too. Is that five?”
“That I’ve seen.” Or sensed. “Not government, because they would have answered the door if there was a legitimate threat.”
“And we would know. Congressional protection in the district falls under our jurisdiction.”
“Why does she feel she needs a private security force?”
“I intend to ask her.”
Mr. Contreras came through the foyer with two men, both dressed in lightweight suits without ties, appropriate for the warm, humid weather.
The shorter man was an attractive Hispanic male in his late thirties. The taller man looked very familiar to Lucy, but she couldn’t place him. She stared, trying to remember where she’d seen him. Six feet, sandy blond hair, light eyes—a bit husky, but not overweight. He worked out. No one introduced them, and both men left quickly.
Dammit, where had she seen him? It wasn’t recent, but she was usually very good with faces. Maybe he just seemed familiar because he reminded her of someone else.
Contreras didn’t say a word, but escorted Barry and Lucy back to the office with the large picture window overlooking the rose garden.
“Mr. Contreras told you that today isn’t a good day.” Adeline looked both tired and frustrated.
Barry said, “We have news about your husband’s death, and as a courtesy, we’re informing you first. However, if you would prefer to hear about it on the news, Agent Kincaid and I will leave.”
Lucy was surprised at the sharp tactic. Barry’s voice was calm and reasoned, but his words were certainly confrontational. It was a terrific approach, and she’d originally had him pegged as a less subtle agent. Which proved that you really didn’t know someone until you’d worked with them.
Adeline frowned, but sat at her glass desk. Interesting, considering that their first meeting had been less formal, on the couch.
Barry remained standing, so Lucy followed his example. Barry said, “As you know, your husband’s death was initially ruled as suspicious. The coroner’s office has confirmed that we’re now investigating a homicide.”
There was no reaction from Adeline. Either she was in complete shock or denial, or she already knew Harper Worthington had been murdered.
“Have you received any threats?”
“The Capitol Police investigate such matters. They haven’t found anything viable.”
“Then why do you have so many private security guards on your property?”
“I’m a federally elected official who has taken some unpopular stands. Just a precaution.”
“They weren’t here on Saturday.”
“Perhaps you didn’t see them.”
Adeline’s entire body was a band of tension. If she was wound any tighter, Lucy thought, she might snap and bounce off the walls.
“I thank you for taking the time out of your busy investigation to inform me that my husband was murdered. Now, go find his killer. That is your job, correct?”
“We need to confirm some information, Mrs. Reyes-Worthington,” Barry said. He pulled out his note pad, slowly and deliberately, and with equally deliberate fashion flipped through multiple pages, obviously skimming his
notes. Lucy knew he read much faster than that, so this was another tactic. Something Adeline had done had set off Barry’s instincts as well as hers. What?
She didn’t ask how he was murdered.
Barry said, “According to our investigation, your husband flew to D.C. with you on May fourth and spent four nights at your residence there.”
“Yes.”
“He was going to return on the ninth with you, but instead returned a day earlier and went to his office in Dallas.”
“He told me he had work to catch up on, something unexpected. I didn’t question him. Both of us have demanding jobs.”
Barry turned back in his notebook. “When we first met, you indicated that he had a doctor’s appointment in early May, and had been preoccupied since. We spoke with his doctor, and Mr. Worthington was last in for a checkup last fall.”
“I told you that Harper said he had a doctor’s appointment.”
“Do you remember what day?”
“No.” She paused. “It was after he came back from D.C. Maybe he has another doctor. Maybe that’s why he went to Dallas. He was obviously keeping something from me.”
Adeline wasn’t agitated or rattled. At the most, she was frustrated that they were asking her questions. She straightened her spine—even more than it was—and said, “I have a funeral to plan. I have a meeting with my lawyer. I have government business to attend to and a campaign to run. Let me know when you find out who killed my husband.”
Barry nodded to Lucy. She pulled out a piece of paper—the one with the dates—and placed it on Adeline’s desk. “Do you know what these dates mean?”
Adeline didn’t touch the paper, but looked down at the list. “No. Some are familiar—the first one is the day I won my election. The others don’t hold any significance for me.”
Next Lucy put the parcel number list in front of Adeline. “What about these numbers?”
“I have no idea what those are. What is going on?”
Lucy didn’t respond. She picked up the papers and put them back in her folder. Adeline was lying, but Lucy didn’t call her on it. Her phone vibrated in her pocket, but she ignored it.
Barry said, “Your husband had this information in a password-protected file and we’re trying to determine if the dates or numbers had something to do with his death.”
“Then why ask me? I’m his wife. You should be asking his employees. Or his daughter.”
“We are,” Barry said. “Agent Kincaid, do you have the photo?” He held out his hand for it.
Lucy pulled out the image of Elise that had been captured on camera at the Del Rio Hotel. She handed it to Barry and he gave her a subtle nod toward Adeline. She turned her attention to the woman as Barry placed the photo in front of her. “Do you recognize this girl?”
Adeline didn’t move. She stared at the photo for a long minute. Too long. She didn’t touch it. In fact, her hands were in her lap. If the desktop hadn’t been made of glass, Lucy wouldn’t have noticed that her slender hands were so tightly clasped together that her fingers were white. The tendons in her arms stood out, all the way to her neck.
“No, I do not,” she said, her voice hard and clipped. “Is this the prostitute Harper was with? Did she kill him?”
Barry didn’t answer the question. Instead, he picked up the photo and put it in his own folder.
“Do you recall a friend by the initials of G.A.?”
“Really? I have so many acquaintances and colleagues, I can’t possibly know who you’re talking about. There’s Congresswoman Georgia Abernathy, for example, out of Chicago. A good friend of mine. And Senator Grant Anderson from Maine. Should I go on?”
She was defensive. Overdefensive.
Barry asked, “Did you or your husband receive any threats that you didn’t report to the Capitol Police?”
“Of course not. There are a lot of kooks out there, not all of them announce their intentions.” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you saying that my husband was murdered on purpose?”
“Most murders are on purpose,” Lucy said.
“Then I suggest you find out what happened, and you certainly won’t be able to do that standing here in my office.”
Barry nodded. “We’ll be in touch.”
Mr. Contreras was standing outside the open office door. He’d either been eavesdropping or waiting for them during the interview. He silently escorted them to the front door, shutting it as soon as Barry and Lucy stepped out.
Barry walked around to the driver’s side and pulled his phone from his pocket. “Tia Mancini left a message.”
Lucy looked at her phone. “Me too. She also sent a text. It says, Found Elise at the hospital. Two GSWs, call me ASAP.”
“What hospital?”
Lucy dialed Tia’s number. “I’ll find out.”
* * *
Adeline stared at the rose garden and for the first time in her life, she didn’t know what to do.
Why was that little whore here? In San Antonio? Had she really killed Harper?
This could not be happening. Her whole world was crumbling around her—again—and she didn’t know how to stop it.
The last time she’d felt this way—two months ago—Adeline had been in D.C. She had to stay because Congress was in session, when she’d really wanted to be home because her entire world was falling apart.
Adeline slammed down the phone, then hoped no one in her office heard her brief tantrum. James Everett had pulled his endorsement.
Was it her fault that Tobias lost the guns? No, but she was still responsible. She was the one who had to pay back the people who’d bought them. Liquidating money was difficult, especially when most of her money was tied up in property. Thirty days? No problem. Tomorrow? Impossible.
Yesterday she’d been on the phone with James for over an hour. The whiny bastard was scared. Scared! She’d told him she would take care of the buyers, but she needed to sell a prime parcel of land immediately, and he’d better find a way to do it and get her the cash. He had, but then he’d told her they were done. She didn’t believe him … but just now her press secretary told her he’d endorsed her opponent.
Asshole!
She tried calling Rob Garza—again. Where the hell was he? Her campaign manager traveled with her everywhere now, because she needed him both in D.C. and in the district. He managed more than just her campaign. He needed to help her appease the buyers and find out what happened so it wouldn’t happen again. And help her punish James Everett, that prick.
She maintained a small, one-room office near the Capitol so she could make fundraising calls, and that’s where Rob should be. Why wasn’t he answering his damn phone? He’d better be on the phone with a big donor bringing in the money because her number-one rule was to pick up the phone when she called.
She walked briskly to the campaign office which was only a few blocks away. She needed to breathe. What was she going to tell the press about James? What could she possibly say? That he was a scared little boy who ran at the first sign of trouble? He was going to regret his decision.
The campaign office was locked. She unlocked the door, not expecting to see anyone.
The smell of sex assaulted her senses, followed by animal-like grunts. For a split second she thought Rob was watching porn on the television, but then she saw them.
Rob, completely naked, had a woman bent over Adeline’s desk, screwing her from behind. By the disarray on the conference table, the cushions from the couch on the floor, and the smears on the glass partition, this obviously wasn’t the first time they’d gone at it. Adeline watched as Rob pushed into the girl, his body jerking in orgasm.
“What the hell!” Adeline exclaimed.
Rob looked over at her, breathing heavily. He didn’t even look embarrassed. Or guilty. He said, “I thought your meeting with Senator Dutton would go on until nine.”
“Get her out of here.”
Rob pulled his dick out of the girl, then slapped her on the ass. “You heard the b
oss,” he said. “Sorry we have to cut this short.” He stood over the trash can and rolled off his condom. Adeline wanted to puke.
The girl got up. She was young. Much too young to be having sex in Adeline’s office. She was flushed, with bleached hair and too much makeup.
“You brought a hooker into my office? Are you trying to cost me the election?”
Rob pulled on his pants. “Lighten up, Adeline. You think I don’t know you’re screwing Joseph in San Antonio and Dennis here?”
The girl dressed in a short skirt, tank top, and jean jacket. She picked up her shoes. “Oh, Robert,” she said as she took an envelope out of her purse. “I think you wanted this?” She winked at Adeline, then walked out.
“You’re fired,” Adeline said.
Rob laughed. “Fired?” He handed Adeline the envelope. “This is the key to your victory.”
Adeline frowned and opened the paper—carefully, because that girl had touched it after touching God knows what on herself and Rob. Inside were photographs of the female senator from Texas who was about to come out with an endorsement of her opponent, if the rumors were true.
The senator was naked and in bed with someone who wasn’t her husband. In fact, the someone was a woman. A woman Adeline also knew, because she was a high-ranking staffer on the budget committee.
“How did you get these?”
“You should thank Elise. She’s not cheap, but she delivers.”
Adeline didn’t say anything for a minute. “You screwed her on my desk!”
“Get over it.”
She wanted to throttle Rob, but these photos were way too good. No way would the senator endorse her opponent now … and if she didn’t run for reelection, all the better … Adeline had been eyeing the Senate seat even before she ran for the House.
“We have a problem. Tobias lost nearly half the guns. I don’t have the details, but the word is that some rogue military group or mercenary gang came in and took them. I’m scrambling to pay back the buyers.”
“I told you long ago not to go into business with him. Never trust a business partner you’ve never seen. Cut your losses and move on.”
“I need protection from someone else first. Tobias can be ruthless.”
Best Laid Plans Page 21