by Debra Webb
At least the distraction prevented her from obsessing about last night’s hot, searing kiss. What had she been thinking? She’d grabbed him and kissed him wantonly.
“They weren’t here before,” Dylan said, startling her back to the present. “I searched too thoroughly.”
Jana banished thoughts of last night. “So why now?”
“Got a key for Maguire’s office?” He wiggled the locked door handle.
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter,” she replied. “If it’s bugged I’ll think he’s innocent and you’ll tell me he planted them to divert suspicion.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You’re a quick study.”
“Yes, I am. I need to get Dad’s papers in order for Camille before she has Sam come in and kick me out.” The betrayal still stung. As much as she wanted to pretend her stepmother and her dad’s oldest friend still cared about her, Jana wasn’t a complete fool. They wanted her out of the way.
He sat down in one of the reception chairs. “I’ll run interference for you.”
“Thanks, but it’s not necessary. It’s Saturday. Things should be quiet today.” She ducked into her dad’s office and turned on the television to the local morning show.
She was running out of time and access to this office—to her dad. Whatever there was here to find, she needed to find it quickly. There had to be a clue to the key and, potentially, the killer in the paperwork or on his computer.
Why hadn’t he just told her what was going on? Why all the secrecy? A wave of hurt washed over her. She couldn’t let the grief overwhelm her again. Staying on task was too important. Maybe obsessing about that kiss was the least distracting of her worries just now. Then again, with Dylan starring in her increasingly creative and erotic dreams, she’d had another restless night last night.
“Just do what you came here to do, Jana,” she muttered. Like the grief, lust and hormones could wait. The governor would announce Camille’s appointment any time now and Jana would be there, showing her support.
How had she not seen the deceit all around her father?
Jana skimmed through computer files, forwarding to her email address more of what she thought might be important to Dylan’s investigation or to Camille’s assumption of her dad’s role as a legislator. Her cell phone hummed with an incoming text message. Recognizing Gregory’s number she groaned, but she had no answer for the Where are you? message. As she debated her response, the television flashed a breaking news banner.
Her stomach dropped. “Dylan,” she rasped. She tried again, this time bringing him rushing into the office. Pointing to the television, she turned up the volume. Together they watched as Camille stood in the senate chamber taking her oath to fulfill Senator Clayton’s seat for the remainder of his term.
“I should be there,” she said, shutting down her search. “Rose is there.” Gregory was there alongside the District Attorney. Sam stood at the edge of those gathered, a serious but pleased expression on his face. How had this happened? Sam was supposed to let her know?
“You’ll never get there in time.”
“It’s not far.” A fresh surge of betrayal flooded her. “Why didn’t they tell me?”
“I don’t know.” Dylan shook his head. “But, showing up late to the party wouldn’t be a good thing.”
He was right, making a tardy appearance would be worse than not being there at all. Maybe it was for the best though she worried her absence would hurt Camille’s reception as interim senator. Everyone in the legislature knew how closely Jana had worked with her dad on policy and issues while Camille had been involved with her businesses, the charities, campaigns, and state events.
Jana stopped herself. Why on earth did she care how her absence impacted Camille? Fury tightened her lips. She refused to care. All that mattered now was finding the truth.
As the new senator and Sam answered questions, Jana picked up her phone and sent a text message to Tammy Fowler, her counterpart in Senator Wagg’s office. Senator Wagg had been serving almost as long as her dad, and the men had been close friends and allies on many issues.
Dylan leaned against her desk as the press conference continued. “If it was so important to show a united front, why didn’t Maguire tell you when to show up?”
“No idea.” Jana’s phone hummed with a response from Tammy. “Hopefully my friend will have some idea.”
“Be careful. We don’t know who we can trust,” Dylan warned. “Can I help you finish up in here?”
She shook her head, exchanging text messages with Tammy who was eager to chat privately this afternoon. “We have a little time. Camille will take questions for a few more minutes.” Then what? Jana didn’t have any idea.
To her relief, Dylan’s phone rang, interrupting her jumbled thoughts. He stepped into Rose’s office to answer it and she returned to the task.
“Come on, Dad,” she muttered aloud. She scrolled through the inbox folder icon on his monitor once more. “Give me something to work with.” She had combed through his calendar, but couldn’t find any red flags. Her dad had been unusually reticent in those last weeks. There had to be something. She forced herself to stop and think. When had that started? Pinpointing the first behavior shift could narrow the search field.
Voices sounded in the reception area. Camille..., then Sam. Neither sounded pleased to see Dylan. Jana propped a smile in place as her stepmother walked in and closed the door firmly.
“You’re in my chair,” she said quietly. The twist of her lips couldn’t be called a smile.
“Congratulations,” Jana said. She rose from her dad’s chair and rounded the desk to offer a hug. “I wish I’d known about the swearing in. I would’ve been there.”
Camille stepped away quickly. “We’re alone, Jana. You don’t have to pretend.”
“Pardon me?”
“I personally sent you the email invitation last night.” She flicked her fingers. “This is a terribly difficult time for all of us. Sam smoothed over the gaffe for you, but I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive you.”
“I didn’t receive your email. You must believe me.” Jana snapped her mouth shut as her temper rose. She squared her shoulders and met Camille’s accusing glare. “I was just gathering some paperwork to make your transition easier.”
“Thoughtful, but not necessary.” Camille skirted the desk and sank into the chair, smoothing her palms over the supple leather armrests. “I’ll have to make some changes,” she said to herself. “The décor is far too masculine for me.”
“Is there anything else you need from me?” Jana struggled to keep her voice even.
“I think not.” Camille’s smile was brittle. “I’ll need you to turn over everything you’ve been working on. Projects, reports, assessments. Sam and I will prioritize the agenda for the next session.”
“You’ll have it in the morning, just as soon as I’m done putting it in order.”
“You’re done now, darling.” Her smile turned sweet enough to cause cavities. “Don’t you understand? I must bring in my own staff as soon as possible. Sam said you understood. With the holidays coming up, it’s the perfect time for you to regroup and recover from losing your Dad.”
Tears burned Jana’s eyes but she held them back. “I see.”
“Good.” Camille gave her a nod. “Everything on my desk by the end of the day. I’d rather not cause a scene having security escort you out.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“I’m glad we understand each other.” Camille shooed Jana away like a pesky fly. “Send Sam in on your way out.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“That’s senator now.”
Appalled, unable to reconcile this woman with the Camille she’d known and respected, Jana opened the door and stepped out to a room full of cameras and media. The troupe was already following in the new senator’s wake. Jana smiled automatically, expressing her delight at the appointment, though she couldn’t be sure that was the ques
tion posed. Catching Sam’s eye across the reception area, she signaled that the new Senator Clayton requested his presence. The crowd shifted their attention to Sam, giving Jana an opportunity to squeeze through the crowd and into her office. She quietly closed her office door, blocking out the media.
“What happened?” Dylan asked, looking up from the worktable by the window.
“Nothing good.” Jana looked at her desk, then the rest of the room. She was going to miss this place. “I decided to go into politics in eighth grade,” she said. “Growing up in Dad’s shadow, watching how much he cared about the people and the process inspired me. It colored every choice I’ve made my entire life. I fretted over every grade I made right up until I received my master’s degree.”
“And here you are,” Dylan said, closing his laptop. “You made it.”
“For a few years,” she agreed. The job had brought more challenges and joy than she’d anticipated. She was going to miss it. “There were whispers when Dad hired me as an advisor, but no one could argue with my work ethic or Dad’s belief in me.”
“What’s wrong?”
She swallowed back the damned tears, telling herself Camille’s decision wasn’t personal. She’d actually expected it... she’d even told Sam she felt her stepmother would want her own staff. Yet, somehow, hearing her say the words in that cold, ruthless tone hurt. “A career in politics is like planting in rocky soil. Dad said that ages ago,” she explained. “Voters are fickle and careers are made and unmade on the smallest of decisions.”
“Hang on.” Dylan lowered his voice. “Camille said something that got to you?”
“I simply don’t understand what’s happened to her.” Though she told herself she had reconciled to the idea that Camille and Sam were somehow involved in her dad’s death, it still hurt.
Dylan joined her at the desk. “Answer me, Jana. What did she say?”
Jana shrugged, the tears brimming on her lashes. “The new senator believes it’s best if I take some time to grieve properly.” Where was the anger when she needed it? All she felt was empty.
“Bullshit.” Dylan braced his hands at his waist. “She didn’t admit to murder or to bugging your house and the office, did she?”
Jana swiped at her eyes. “We should be so lucky.”
“Congratulations.”
“For what?” She opened a drawer and started to remove personal items. Suddenly she would have given anything if she’d already cleared out her office. She took a deep breath and steadied herself. Her work here was done, for now. The only thing left to do was clear her dad’s name.
“You finally suspect someone of acting against your dad. That’s a big step.”
“I just wish it felt like a victory.”
“You’ll get there.”
His half grin drew her attention to his mouth, made her want another kiss. She couldn’t think of a better distraction for a newly unemployed social policy advisor.
“Why don’t we just get out of here?” he offered, as if reading her mind.
“Camille—the senator—has demanded all the paperwork by the end of the day.”
“Are you going to comply?”
“If I do she won’t have security escort me out.”
“How thoughtful of her,” Dylan said with a heavy dose of sarcasm.
Jana snorted. “I have a meeting in a few hours. I’ll do what I can until then.”
“Since this is our last chance to look for any clues that might help with our investigation,” Dylan offered, “let’s do all the digging we can.”
“If there’s anything here.” Jana considered the possibilities—all of which they’d gone over at least once already. “If Dad had concerns he would’ve found a way to let me or someone know.”
“You’re sure?”
“You don’t stay in politics as long as Dad did without learning how to take precautions.”
Unless he’d let the wrong someone know... like his wife or his best friend.
Dylan had warned Jana things would escalate, but even he hadn’t expected this sort of blowback. Camille’s move had been a bold one. Leaving Jana out of the swearing in and then treating her so badly. Obviously, the kid gloves were off. Who knew what the woman might try next?
They needed to make headway on this case sooner rather than later. He’d intended to tell her last night what he’d learned about the key, but the confrontation with the bozos had changed his agenda. Then that damned kiss had basically blown his mind. Not that what he’d learned would likely lead to anything, but it could prod a memory for Jana.
“I also went through Dad’s email forwarding and deleting things that troubled me,” Jana noted as she continued digging through the drawers of her desk.
“Anything useful?”
“I’m not sure.” She turned on the television and started shredding a page or two from each report she’d compiled for the new senator.
“Do you mind if I ask what you’re doing?”
Jana flashed a faint smile. “Making the new senator’s life as miserable as possible.”
Dylan laughed. “Fair enough. What’s my job?”
“Gather up anything personal. All of the books. I’m calling a friend from security for boxes.”
“What about the computer?” He asked when she’d completed the call. He packed his laptop and the hate mail. “Will she lock you out?”
“I’m sure Sam is changing the passwords as we speak.”
“You don’t sound worried about it.”
“We’ve been through everything once already and found nothing. The few items that still nagged at me have, as of this morning, been forwarded to my personal email account. I assumed this would be my last shot at the files.” She shrugged. “One of the risks of hiring close family is that they know how you think.”
Dylan stopped, an all-too-familiar sense of dread falling across his shoulders. “That means Camille and Sam know how you think, too.”
“Let’s hope they keep believing that.”
Dylan caught the absolute determination and temper sizzling in Jana’s eyes. First impressions were rarely misleading, but with her, he had to recalculate too damn frequently. Was it the nature of politics or the nature of the woman? The trouble with Jana was that every new obstacle revealed a layer stronger than the last. He found her challenging and intoxicating. The memory of last night’s kiss suckered punched him.
You’re walking a dangerous line, Parker.
She might consider her career path full of obstacles at this point, but he was starting to see how those trials would likely forge her into a formidable opponent.
“Being an advisor was a stepping stone, right?” he asked, mostly out of curiosity. “You want to be a politician.”
“I never thought I’d simply inherit my dad’s seat, if that’s what you mean.”
“I didn’t say that.”
Further discussion had to wait as boxes and a hand truck arrived. Jana’s cool demeanor amazed him as she gave her friend from security Camille’s reason for her exit. Dylan noted she tossed in the university library line for good measure.
The minute they were alone again, he used the interruption to emphasize his point about her career plans. “That’s what I mean. The way you connect with people. It’s special. Voters like that kind of thing.”
“I’ll earn my place someday. If I represent them with the same amount of concern as my dad, I’ll get the job and I’ll be able to keep it,” she replied. “Dad taught me everything I know about acting on behalf of the people, regardless of the issue or party line. It starts with the way you treat the people closest to you.”
He let her talk, learning more as he silently filled boxes with books and framed photos, along with a few mementos and awards. She’d mirrored her dad’s approach. When someone entered her office, they’d know her credentials, but they’d also see who had inspired her and what issues mattered. He didn’t expect Camille to have the same genuine style.
Once more
he wondered about the timing of Clayton’s murder. He’d definitively ruled out suicide after the bikers had shot up Jana’s car, assuming it was a political play. But they had yet to come up with a policy issue that divided the senator from his closest allies.
Camille had been appointed over Jana. If the senate seat was the goal, no one should bother Jana now. Dylan wondered if he was going after this investigation all wrong. Was the murder personal rather than political? From his study of the family finances, no one was hurting for money or influence. So where was the motive?
Jana’s phone beeped with an alarm and she smoothed a hand over her hair, apparently satisfied with what she’d accomplished. Her desk was clear. Each small stack of papers was labeled for her replacement. “That’s good enough,” she declared. Reaching into her purse, she found her key ring and removed two keys, placing them front and center on her desk.
“So we’re out of here?”
She nodded. “By way of my meeting.” She added one small box to the top of the stack on the hand truck, and then grabbed her purse and a briefcase. “Do you mind hauling this out? I can meet you at the truck.”
He shook his head. “Nice try. Where’s your meeting?”
She gave him the room number that meant nothing relative to where it was. “You can’t come with me.”
“You’re not going alone.”
She stood there, the prim and proper expression almost masking the impatience simmering under the surface. He ignored the urge to muss her up a little, starting with all that silky hair.
“Camille won’t let either of us back in the office,” he pointed out.
She sighed, pressing her fingers to her temples. “Point made. We leave together, but I have to take the meeting privately.” She held up a hand, staying his protest. “Not negotiable.”
“I’ll wait outside the door.”
He decided he was in way too deep when she rolled her eyes and he found it endearing. Taking control of the hand truck, he followed her through the door. The empty reception room was a lucky break. “Where is everyone?”