by Desiree Holt
God damn it.
If only there was an easy and acceptable way to kill the whole political career train right now.
Somehow, he should have figured out what was going on with Owen and the gambling and found a way to stop it before it all blew up. He’d known something was wrong. His son had been edgy and uneasy, but he’d chalked it up at first to pressure from the workload. He’d given him cases to handle that played to his strengths and thought that would keep him busy enough to stay out of trouble. The last thing he’d expected was for any of the shit with the Tampa Mafia to escalate out of control and hit the firm, where anyone here could find out about it.
Even then, he thought he’d had a lid on it until Dane Hollister had stumbled over it and he’d nearly had a stroke. Thank god at least Hollister had come to Peter about it first. He’d denied the whole thing, then chewed Owen’s ass to shreds.
But what a fucking mess. Hollister had backed off a little, but Peter knew he wasn’t through digging into it. Then Owen had decided to ‘fix’ it his own way and made a bigger mess.
Kendrick took another swallow of his drink.
“So now we have the sister-in-law who, like some avenging angel, is hell-bent on finding the driver. It’s a good thing I’ve been keeping tabs on her. I managed to make sure the traffic cops are out of the way and she couldn’t hire anyone to help her. But now she’s found these people I never heard of and no one I reach out to knows about them, either. I can’t find out shit. Whoever they are and whatever they do, they keep a very low profile and that makes me very nervous. We have to fix this, Warren.”
Sulzberger snorted. “What do you expect me to do? Get rid of the sister? You don’t think that would make even more noise? I know I’m stating the obvious here, but your son made a fucking big mess. If I fix this, how are you going to control him going forward?”
Kendrick ground his teeth. Sulzberger was right, only it had never entered his mind that Owen would think murder was the answer.
“He’s my problem and I’m handling it. I am more concerned right now with the people Peyton West managed to hire. I haven’t been able to find a single thing about them except their name. Not even a phone number. Nothing. It’s making me nervous.” Kendrick drained his glass and rose to refill it at the bar against the wall. “You have the kind of connections that can get that information. I want to know everything there is, right down to how they brush their teeth. Then I want to know how to neutralize them.”
“Neutralize them?” Sulzberger snorted. “You don’t want much, do you? Why don’t you do it yourself? You’ve got people who can check them out.”
“I’ve already tried and hit a wall. Listen, you’re the sneakiest bastard I know. You have much better resources for that than I do. Plus, you have people who can do it without leaving a trail or getting their attention. I want to know what the fuck kind of people don’t have an office and fly around in a plane that costs millions of dollars?”
Sulzberger was silent for a long time before he spoke again.
“What happens when you get your information?”
“I’ll use it appropriately.” Kendrick knocked backed a healthy swallow of the bourbon.
“Peter, if you make a bigger mess out of this, we’ll both be in trouble.” Sulzberger rubbed his jaw. “You can’t kill off everyone who knows what a wild card your son is.”
“No, but I can steer them in another direction. Or throw up misdirection, if I just know exactly who they are and how they operate. We’re meeting with the team next week to start implementing the program we created.”
Sulzberger’s laugh had a sarcastic tone to it.
“You weren’t able to keep Owen from getting in trouble over his head and trying to kill his way out of it, and you want him to become governor?”
“He’ll be fine.” Kendrick wanted to grit his teeth. “I just have to get him elected to the office. Then I’ll be pulling all the strings and managing the work.”
“And you’re sure this is going to work?”
“I’m betting heavily on it. First the governor’s office, then the Senate, then, if it all shakes out, the White House.” His smile had a touch of evil to it. “And a chance for you to finally get your revenge, if you help me with this.”
Sulzberger was quiet for a long time.
“If someone besides the sister decides to start pushing,” he said at last, “we may have trouble with the police report of the accident.”
Kendrick scowled. “What kind of trouble? They entered it in the computer, right? And put in what we told them to?”
“Yes, but it’s very sketchy. If the sister makes too much noise, someone we don’t have control over could call them on it. Maybe send someone else to investigate. See if there’s someone who was there who actually did see what happened.” He paused. “Someone who didn’t get paid off.”
“I thought you said that was all handled.”
“I was assured it was. Our men even went back the next day and took care of the payoffs, along with a few well-chosen threats.” Sulzberger shrugged. “But if push comes to shove, someone could cave.”
“Then we’d better make sure they don’t.”
“By ‘we’ I assume you mean me.”
“You’re the man who can pull the strings,” Kendrick pointed out. “And with an expert touch, I might add.”
“Is that what you call it?” Sulzberger’s laugh held little humor. “You can kill the flattery. I’m in. I owe you, otherwise I’d insist we ditch your whole plan.”
“We’d better keep a close eye on everything, especially that damn sister. I’m not about to let her blow this whole thing. It’s bad enough my idiot son can’t control his impulses.” He rubbed his jaw. “When Owen reaches the ultimate goal I have set for him, he’ll be in the best position for you to take your revenge.” His lips curled in a smile that hinted of irony. “Although the money you’ve made and the influence you’ve built should be enough revenge.”
“For some. Not for me. The money will never be enough. Those holier-than-thou bastards would have done the same thing I did, given the chance. And what kills me is that many of them did.”
“They just never got caught,” Kendrick reminded him.
Anger tightened the muscles on Sulzberger’s face for a brief moment before he smoothed it out. “You’re right. A final nail in the coffin would give me pleasure. However, we have to get there first. Can you assure me that controlling Owen from here on out will not be a problem?”
Now Kendrick had to swallow his own anger—only it was directed at his son, not the man across from him.
“I’ll take care of it. Count on it.”
Sulzberger nodded. “Then we have a deal. I’ll dig into the people the sister has found and get back to you.”
Kendrick walked over to where the other man was seated and they clinked glasses.
“To success,” he said.
Sulzberger nodded. “To success.”
For a long time after Warren Sulzberger left, Peter Kendrick sat in his den, slowly sipping the rest of the bourbon in his glass and letting his thoughts chase themselves around in his brain. He could still recall the defining moment that had changed the other man’s life.
Sulzberger had grown up in a family that thrived on politics. His father and two brothers had all gone into it, either as elected officials or behind the scenes. He’d been groomed at an early age to run for Congress, much as he, Peter, was grooming Owen to make a run for governor. Successfully elected, he’d served four terms in the Senate, eventually being appointed to the prestigious Armed Services Committee. In that position, he had been able to swing very lucrative contracts to several of his supporters, earning himself a fat bonus each time.
But some of those friends had a dark side—very dark, like the arms manufacturer supporting a rebel group in Africa. It was to his advantage to keep the rebels supplied with his armaments and make sure they continued to operate. When he learned that a top-secret mission w
as planned to take down the key rebel leaders, the arms dealer had paid him a fat fucking fee for sharing the information. The rebels had proceeded to decimate the SEAL team. Only two members had survived.
It was a scandal of epic proportions, quickly covered up by the politicians with a combination of payoffs and threats. But Warren Sulzberger had been forced to quietly resign from his seat in the Senate. Two senior senators had forced the issue, threatening to ruin him if he didn’t take this way out. That would have precluded what came next for him. As often happened to people who succeeded on the wrong side of the line, he’d opened a very successful lobbying firm. Over the years he’d done many favors for other senators. Now it was time for them to repay that by voting for bills favorable to his clients.
His firm continued to grow, both in its treasury and its sphere of influence, a situation that would have been ruined if he hadn’t simply resigned. The word had begun to circulate below the surface that if a person wanted anything done, and not just on The Hill, Warren Sulzberger was the man. But whoever needed it had better be prepared to pay for it.
Kendrick had never wanted a place in politics for himself. He, like Sulzberger now, liked to work behind the scenes, pulling strings. The hunger for power that he controlled consumed him. His son had been groomed from an early age to be the political face of the family and to feed that hunger. The fact that he had shit for brains and little impulse control wasn’t going to derail the train that Peter Kendrick had set in motion.
The first thing was to get whatever information Sulzberger would dig up on whoever Peyton West had hired. The next thing would be to get rid of everyone—even the sister, if he had to. But that one would require some delicate arrangements, and he wasn’t there yet.
He drained the glass and set it down on the bar.
Owen needed to clean up his act. Associating with the wrong people was bad enough. Being with them at the wrong place at the wrong time, when Dane Hollister could catch sight of him, could create a disaster of epic proportions. One more stupid, idiotic thing his son had done. Erasing all evidence of his son’s stupidity was going to take a Herculean effort on Kendrick’s part. But he didn’t have a choice. Owen Kendrick was going to sit in the White House or Peter was going to die trying. And that second option was just not acceptable.
* * * *
Peyton hadn’t eaten much all day. The situation had pretty much robbed her of her appetite. Still, she knew she had to eat at least to survive. She decided to feed her sugar craving and picked up a half dozen donuts and coffee on her way back to the hospital. As she drove, she thought over her meeting with Scott ‘Blaze’ Hamilton. He was not at all what she’d expected. When Nolan Hamilton had told her that his brother was a SEAL, a decorated combat veteran with sixteen years of service, the tall, sexy man who’d greeted her wasn’t at all what she’d expected. And despite his take-charge attitude, he’d been courteous, even gentle with her as he coaxed her story out of her.
The elegance of the plane had stunned her. When Nolan had said they held their meetings in a plane, she hadn’t known what she’d expected, but it hadn’t been this. The elegance of Galaxy’s plane put many elegant mansions she’d seen to shame. Of course, if they’d won millions in the lottery, price was no object, she guessed. But more than anything, she got the feeling that whatever the men of Galaxy set out to do, they’d get it done.
When she pulled into the huge hospital parking garage, she found herself looking out of both sides of the car as she hunted for a space. She considered herself lucky that one opened up on the third level right by an elevator. For the first time, she was nervous waiting for the elevator to arrive and the doors to open.
Damn Blaze Hamilton for making me edgy.
Yet she knew he was only doing his job. She might not have hired him to protect her, but she knew he was concerned for her safety. She probably should be, too. Whoever had done this couldn’t be happy about leaving Brianne alive. When the elevator doors opened, she hurried down the wide hallway to her sister’s room, paying attention to the people around her.
Nobody’s going to kill you in the hospital.
It sounded ridiculous when she thought it, but then so did someone running down Dane and Brianne. She’d make sure to be diligent.
When she entered her sister’s room, a nurse was standing beside the bed, checking her vitals. Peyton was relieved to see it was the same one who’d been taking care of Brianne almost every day on this shift. Her sister was just as still as she’d been for days, her body unmoving beneath the sheet and thin blanket, the outline broken by the casts on her leg and her arm. Peyton’s heart ached at the sight. The woman did not deserve this. She was a good person, smart, loving. A wonderful sister, and she’d been a great wife. Of course, Dane had been a terrific husband, and together they’d made a fabulous couple.
She swallowed a sigh, set the coffee and donuts down on the tray table and stood on the other side of the bed.
“How is she?” Well, that was a stupid question, she told herself. You know how she is.
The nurse’s smile was kind. “About the same, but her vitals are good. That’s a positive sign.”
Brianne reached down to take her sister’s hand in her own and gave it a gentle squeeze. It felt so cold to her.
“Is she warm enough?” she asked the nurse.
“I was planning to get her another blanket. When you don’t move around, it’s hard to maintain a body temperature.”
“But—it’s no worse than it was, right?”
“Right. It’s about the same.” She finished what she was doing and typed notes into the computer on the rolling stand, then pushed the stand toward the door. “They X-rayed her arm and her leg today. The doctor says they’re healing nicely.”
Peyton swallowed hard. “I just hope she wakes up so she can use them.”
The nurse smiled. “I have faith. I’ve seen worse situations than this turn around. And the way you sit with her, holding her hand and talking to her?”
“Thank you. It’s just so hard seeing her like this.”
“I know, but you being here is the best thing for her.”
“Good. That gives me hope.”
Peyton bent over the bed and brushed a kiss on her sister’s forehead. The one thing she wasn’t looking forward to was the moment when Brianne woke up and she had to tell her that Dane was dead.
First things first.
Then she plucked a donut from the box, grabbed the coffee and sat in the chair next to the bed. Snatches from her meeting that afternoon kept playing in her head like scenes from a movie. She could not erase the image of Blaze Hamilton, and it had nothing to do with his ability to help her.
She could still feel the warmth of his palm when he’d shaken her hand at the end of their meeting. Sense the raw energy radiating from his body. She’d bet her next royalty check he was a medal-winner in bed, too, more than living up to his name. Not that she was ever going to find out. She was aware that she appealed to men and she never lacked for dates if and when she wanted them. But she had no illusions about who and what she was. She was sure the women that Blaze Hamilton spent his hours with belonged on magazine covers.
Maybe not. Maybe that kind of woman doesn’t appeal to him. Maybe he likes them a little less glamorous, more down to earth.
But just as hot in bed.
Out of nowhere an image of the man naked, lying on the sheets, blasted into her brain. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on his bones. Every corded muscle, every inch of tan skin was visible, along with a cock that would take honors in any competition. His lips were curved in a hungry smile and need flared in his golden whiskey eyes. Heat surged through her body and every pulse point throbbed with need.
Holy mother of god!
She was never this undisciplined. Her trademark was unbroken self-control at all times. That was partially the reason she was able to concentrate on writing when she was into creating a novel. She could use her laser-like focus to shut everything else
out. Why wasn’t she doing it now?
No, her brain was elsewhere, focused on a man who was sex personified. And here she was, sitting next to her sister’s hospital bed, with aching nipples and a throbbing pulse at her core. What kind of person was she, for her mind to wander like that and her body to send her messages when her life was centered around her sister and finding who had driven the car? Why on earth was she even having these thoughts, anyway? She made a concerted effort to banish the unwelcome thoughts from her brain. No such luck. She needed to focus on what was important, not what her traitorous hormones were trying to distract her with.
Enough, she told herself. She had a brain and she should use it. Focus on her missions. She took a sip from the coffee she was holding, hoping the now lukewarm liquid would counteract the heat threatening to consume her. Then she lifted a donut from the box, took a small bite and stared at Brianne’s still form. That was what she should be focusing on, that and whoever the asshole was who had run into her and Dane with a car.
She wished she knew more about Dane and his practice. The answer had to be there somewhere. She’d done her research on the firm he was with. His clients. The cases he’d worked on. Nothing seemed out of place, at least that she could find. They were considered top litigators. Very powerful. Were they trustworthy? Did they have clients who didn’t bear a lot of scrutiny? She couldn’t imagine Dane jumping into murky waters, not after knowing him all this time. She needed a lot more information before she could come to any conclusions, though.
And that’s what you have Galaxy for, so let them do their job and you do yours.
She finished the donut, discovered she was still hungry and reached for another one. As she took a bite, a memory flashed through her brain, a scene where she and Brianne were sitting in her apartment in Texas with a box of a dozen donuts between them, gorging on the sugary goodness. For a moment her throat tightened and she couldn’t swallow. She forced it down with some coffee and took a deep breath. She had to get hold of herself.