Trust No One

by Velvet Vaughn

  It was late but Kai would still be up, probably playing basketball on the Xbox. He pulled out his cell and dialed his son.

  "Hey, Dad, s'up?" Kai said in his typical pre-teen slang.

  He chuckled. "How's it going, kid? I miss you. S'up with you?"

  Kai chuckled back at his attempt to sound hip. "I miss you, too. But I'm having fun with grandma and grandpa. Gramps hasn't beat me yet in Grand Prix racing. He brags that he's like Mario Andretti but he keeps crashing. And you know grandma makes the best macaroni and cheese ever."

  Dante's stomach growled. His mom did make the best mac and cheese in the world. "How's school? You're keeping up with homework, aren't you?"

  A long-suffering sigh. "It's tough, but I manage."

  It was an idle question—Dante didn't have to worry about Kai's schoolwork. The kid was a straight-A genius. He also excelled in sports. He was so proud of him, he could burst. Kai could be anything he wanted to be, but all he wanted to do was follow in Dante's footsteps and become a SEAL. It made his heart swell with pride every time he thought about it. He loved Kai more than life.

  "When are you coming home?"

  Though Kai tried to act tough, sometimes his age showed and Dante detected a note of apprehension in his tone. His son worried when he went away on an assignment, which is why he rarely did anymore. If it had been anyone other than Demon, he would've declined. Even though he'd just arrived in Chicago, he said, "soon." They chatted a few more minutes and dreading to hang up but knowing he needed to, he said, "Make sure you listen to your grandparents. I'll call you tomorrow. Love you, Kai."

  "Love you, too, Dad. Bye."

  Dante checked his watch. Thirty minutes had gone by. He wondered if they found anything yet. He thought about the woman with Demon. She was feisty, courageous and a knockout. Oh, Dorian would never admit to it, but he could tell by the way he watched her, tracked her every move, that he was smitten. After his last assignment, Dorian needed some good in his life. He blamed himself for the evil machinations of a twisted killer.

  The low hum of a motor jerked his attention behind him. Someone was approaching in a small watercraft. He quickly grabbed the rod and reel that Dorian's buddy included in case they needed a disguise. He dropped the line over the side and pulled his baseball cap lower over his face, waiting for the boat to pass. It was puttering along and from his quick glance, he only spotted one person, but you could never be too careful. He eased out his Glock and kept it out of sight. Finally the boat drew even…too close for his comfort. The Zodiac rocked gently in its waves. The boat idled and Dante's radar shot up.

  "Catching anything?" An old man tipped a Coors to his lips and swallowed a hefty swig.

  "Nah," Dante responded, keeping his finger on the trigger. "Not biting tonight." Hopefully the man wouldn't peer too closely inside the boat and see that Dante had no bait with him. Pretty hard to catch a fish without bait.

  "I didn't have any luck either," the man commiserated. He took another drink, belched and tossed his can in the boat. Definitely not his first beer of the night. "Last year, I caught a catfish that was yay big," he said, holding out his hands to demonstrate the size. He stumbled and grabbed the wheel to right himself. The last thing Dante needed was for some drunk to mess up their operation. The man proceeded to tell him about various fish he'd caught over the years. Dante slid the safety back in place and stashed his weapon. This man wasn't a threat…he was just an annoyance. He hated to be rude, but Dorian and Kendall should be back soon.

  "Guess I'll call it a night," he tried, adding a yawn for good measure.

  A soft splash sounded in the distance as Dorian and Kendall broke the surface. He prayed the man hadn't heard, but he didn't have to worry. The old guy was busy rummaging in his cooler for another beer. "Want one?" he offered, holding the can aloft.

  "Thanks, but I'd better not. Wife gets upset if I come home smelling of alcohol."

  "Pfft," the man said, waving a hand, not even noticing he was spraying beer everywhere. "Mine used to get upset, too, so I got rid of her." He laughed like he'd just said the funniest thing. "This one time…" He launched into a story about his wife, or ex-wife now, catching him drinking. Dante nodded along with him, silently prodding him to talk faster.

  Finally, the story ended. "I hear ya. Listen, nice to meet you but I've really got to be going."

  "Yeah, yeah, me too." He settled the can into a holder by the instrument panel and plopped into the driver's seat. "Nice to meet ya, son. You take care now."

  Dante waved as he accelerated and motored on. As soon as he was far enough away, he flashed his light once so Dorian and Kendall could locate him. They were pretty far out so he paddled closer and met them halfway. He helped Kendall in the boat first and then Dorian. They unstrapped their tanks and he handed them each a towel.

  "Make yourself a friend?" Dorian asked.

  "Yeah, sorry about that. I couldn't get rid of him. Did you find anything?"

  He could tell by the grim looks on their faces that they did. Dorian passed him the digital and he flipped it on to view the files. Gruesome pictures of death didn’t bother him, he had seen his share. He’d been up close and personal with the grim reaper, sometimes working side by side. But the image he saw captured on the digital file made him nauseous.

  "Damn," he said over the lump in his throat.

  "It gets better," Dorian said grimly. "That’s Senator Aaron Hofstra’s wife."

  "Oh, hell. I was just reading about that. I saw your interview, too, Kendall. It was really good."

  "Thanks. He’s going to be devastated," she murmured, a shudder racking her body.

  "Think he could be involved?"

  "It's possible," Dorian shrugged. "He seemed genuinely upset, but it could be an act. Now the rest of his staff…definitely capable of murder."

  "How are we going to handle this? It's a major news story."

  "I need to call Alex," Dorian said. "I'll leave the discovery up to him. He can say an anonymous tipster called it in or something like that."

  Once the equipment was stored and Kendall was seated, he and Dorian took up their spots and paddled to the shore. Dorian assisted Kendall from the boat and they hefted out the equipment. Dante deflated the boat and they made their way back to the truck to stow the gear.

  "You can’t use the cell phone to call Alex," Kendall pointed out. "The call could be traced back to you."

  "COBRA phones can't be traced," Dorian said. "But, if we want it to look like an anonymous tip, there’s a pay phone at the marina. I'll make the initial call from there. If we approach from this side and stick close to the building, we can get in and out without being seen from the security cameras, if they even work." They hiked the short distance to the marina.

  "You two stay here," Dorian said before they left the tree line. He snapped on a glove and Dante handed him a wiped-clean quarter. He moved stealthily to the building and followed it to the phone attached to the side of the building.

  "I'm surprised they even have pay phones anymore," Dante mused.

  "I'm more surprised that it works and someone hasn't stolen the receiver," Kendall replied.

  They watched as Dorian lifted the receiver with a gloved hand, inserted the coin and punched in a number.

  #

  "Mylonas."

  "Did you order a large with double cheese and pepperoni?"

  A chill snaked up Alex's spine. "Wrong number—"

  "Wait. Don't hang up yet. Wait a couple of minutes but proceed with the pizza."

  Alex placed the cell on the bedside table without disconnecting and tossed back the sheets. Padding to the dresser, he pulled out his personal cell phone, the one the department didn't know about, and dialed Dorian's number.

  The phone barely rang before Dorian's voice cut through the line. "It's bad, Mylo."

  Alex rubbed a hand across his forehead. "I knew it had to be if you resorted to using the old code. And what's with leaving the phone connected?"

  "
I'm an anonymous tipster."

  "What's the tip?"

  "We found Senator Hofstra's wife."

  Alex dropped his hand and straightened. "Come again?"

  "We found Pamela Hofstra."

  "Where? Is she alive?"

  "In Pine Lake and definitely not."

  "Ah, hell." Alex sat heavily on the mattress and began pulling on his pants. "Give me all the details."

  Chapter Nineteen

  Wednesday, September 22

  "Authorities are searching for the person or people responsible for the murder of Senator Aaron Hofstra’s wife and unborn child today. Mrs. Hofstra’s body was recovered from Pine Lake early this morning. Cindy Patterson is on the scene at this hour. Cindy, what can you tell us?"

  "Thank you, Mona. According to preliminary reports, the coroner surmised the body had been submerged in the lake for almost ten days. Mrs. Hofstra and her unborn child have been here the entire time they went missing. Also, we don't know yet if she drowned or was dead before someone so callously dumped the pregnant woman in the lake. We have Special Agent Ron Daulton of the Federal Bureau of Investigation with us. Special Agent Daulton, can you give us details?"

  Kendall turned down the sound on the monitor as she waited for the producer to return, shivering as she remembered the look on Pamela Hofstra's face. They were back at the television station so she could film an update to her breaking news segment early this morning. After getting the okay from Alex indicating that Senator Hofstra had been notified, she'd called her boss claiming an anonymous tip alerted her to the gruesome discovery. She could practically hear him salivate over her coup. He'd instructed her to get to the scene and he contacted the local affiliate to send a camera crew, aka Vince, who arrived within a half-hour. Thankfully, she and Dorian brought along a change of clothing, just in case. It would've been suspicious for her to film the television segment in a wetsuit. She didn't have time to worry about hair or makeup. She looked into the camera and broke the news to the nation that Senator Hofstra's wife's body had been recovered. The local stations were just now on scene, but most of their details had come from her earlier report.

  She fielded a call from CNN soon after her breaking story. They conducted an interview with her that would run periodically throughout the day. She'd questioned both Alex and Special Agent Ron Daulton with the FBI. Both of those segments would run in prime time tonight.

  Against her wishes, her boss contacted Gray Posten about the possibility of interviewing the senator about the latest development, but he'd been quickly and forcefully shut down. Gossip was flying that the senator had to be hospitalized for a breakdown. That didn't deter her boss. He was over-the-moon excited about the exposure she was generating for the station. He wanted her back in New York yesterday, even though he grudgingly admitted that having her on the scene in Chicago was a boon. By the end of the conversation, he'd taken complete credit for her still being in Illinois. She reiterated that she was staying until the killers were caught and he finally agreed with the caveat that she would let him know as soon as she had any information so he could arrange coverage.

  The local news director was also ecstatic about the publicity his station was receiving and offered her a position with a substantial raise from her current job. She thanked him but declined his offer. She was at crossroads. Her job didn't hold the same appeal it once had. She'd lost her drive. She hoped it was the aftermath of seeing her three friends murdered and then discovering Pamela Hofstra's body, but she feared it was something more. She simply didn't want to dig for stories or report the news anymore.

  Her whole adult life had been dedicated to becoming the best reporter that she could be. She felt like maybe she'd reached the pinnacle. She'd covered the national story, was still covering it as a matter of fact. There was nowhere to go from here, and frankly, she didn't have the desire to continue.

  #

  Ron Daulton pulled into the driveway across the street from Senator Hofstra's house. The owner, Patrick Mason, had returned from a business trip and his secretary scheduled the meeting. Ron popped three Tums before getting out of the car. With the discovery of Mrs. Hofstra's body, the case just became top priority.

  Mr. Mason met him at the door and they shook hands. "My secretary said you needed to look at my security feed?"

  "Yes. I need to check footage from Friday evening through Saturday afternoon."

  "I had my housekeeper pull the tapes." Mr. Mason handed him a box. "They're all in here. You can keep them. I don't need them back."

  "Thank you, Mr. Mason. I appreciate it."

  Ron placed the box in the back seat and headed back to headquarters. Cory was still at the lake gathering details on the murder so he headed to the office and fired up the tapes. Most of the footage was uneventful save for a random car passing by. He hit pay dirt around six on Saturday morning. A man wearing a gray hoodie was walking down the street, hands in his pockets. He glanced around nervously and practically vibrated on his feet. A tweaker if he had to guess. Sure enough, the man stopped in front of the Hofstra mailbox, glanced around again, and then slid an envelope inside. Ron rewound the tape. As the man was checking out the area, he looked directly into Patrick Mason's camera. Ron paused the tape and called down to have one of the techs come clean up the image.

  An hour later, he had a clear picture of the man who planted the note about the baby not being Senator Hofstra's in the mailbox. He circulated the photo to the local police departments, asking for identification. Twenty minutes later, his phone rang.

  "This is Bill Patroski, from CPD Narcotics Division. I just saw your memo. I recognize the man in the photo. He's a local addict by the name of Stevie Murray, goes by Skidz."

  "You know where I can find him?"

  "Out looking for a score," Patroski said. "He's homeless. Sleeps wherever he passes out. I'll put a BOLO out on him and when we find him, we'll bring him in and give you a call."

  "I appreciate it."

  #

  Thursday, September 23

  Kendall's cell phone woke her from a deep sleep. She was snuggled up against Dorian's warm body, his arm draped possessively across her stomach. After all his big talk of keeping away from her, somehow they'd ended up in bed together last night.

  Alex was too busy with the case to drive to the cabin so he was sleeping at his apartment in the city. She'd been too upset to sit around talking after finding Pamela Hofstra's body when they returned, so she'd made a beeline for the bedroom. But once inside, she couldn't sleep. She listened to the sounds of Dorian and Dante moving around and then she heard the door across the hall close. A few minutes later, her door creaked open and Dorian slipped inside. He padded silently to the bed and climbed in beside her, as if knowing she needed his comfort. She clung to him desperately.

  Sometime during the night, they reached for each other. They made love with passion and tenderness and after they rode the waves of desire, he held her tightly with no words of recrimination or remorse.

  Her cell trilled again and she tried to grab it without waking him but his arm squeezed before he released her, letting her know he was already awake. She snatched it off the table and checked the display. "It's Stefani's sister," she told him as he stood and stretched. Stark naked, the man was perfection. She almost missed the call staring appreciatively at his body. She turned her back on him so she could concentrate. "Hello? Cassie?"

  "You know?"

  "Yes, and I'm so sorry."

  Cassie's soft sobs could be heard through the receiver. "Me, too."

  "I was with her, but I didn't see who killed her." She explained about the phone and how she crawled under the bed. "If it's any consolation, she didn't suffer, Cassie. It was quick."

  "Well, thank God for that small blessing." Her voice hardened. "When they find out who did this, I'll kill him myself." Cassie was a lieutenant in the Army, so Kendall had no doubt she could carry out the threat. "I was granted emergency leave and I'm on my way back to the States. I should b
e there in a few days. Have you heard anything? Do they have any leads?"

  "Nothing solid, yet."

  "I hope they interview her boyfriend. I couldn't stand the pompous ass."

  "Boyfriend? Do you mean Byron Wilks?"

  "That's him."

  "What made you dislike him?"

  "His attitude, his tone. I'd seen him once when we were chatting on Skype. He was yelling for Stef to hurry, he had things to do. He acted like he was Mister Important and the world should do his bidding."

  "I've met him and I got the same impression."

  "I bet he did it."

  "What makes you say that?"

  "Stef went to a big shindig with him over a week ago…it was a Saturday night. It was a ball or something to do with the senator he worked for. She was so happy and thought he might even ask her to marry him. She had her wedding dress all picked out and was even talking venues to hold the reception. I encouraged her and acted like I was happy for her…I didn't tell her I disliked him. I really didn't know him, so I was giving him the benefit of the doubt. She was so happy and in love. I told her to tell me all about the night but then I didn't hear from her. I was travelling in an area without reception and by the time I could send an email it was last Thursday. She sent a quick reply that nothing happened and that she was seeing him for lunch the next day. She said she would fill me in soon."

  "Stef had a date with him the day she was murdered?"

  "Yes, and she didn't seem happy about it. You could tell her feelings by how many exclamation points she used. There were none. Her wording was terse, completely unlike her. I didn't press." Cassie's voice broke. "Now I wish I had."

  "Cassie, please don't think like that. Whoever did this is evil. If it is Wilks, the police will catch him and he'll be brought to justice."

  "I hope so."

  "When are you arriving?"

  "I hope to be there Tuesday. I have a few things I'm required to do here before I go and then I need to catch a military flight out. I'm trying to schedule the funeral for Thursday. It'll be small since we don't have much family."