Best Laid Plans(111)

Joseph Contreras opened the door before they rang. “Adeline is in the den,” he said. “She isn’t feeling well and asked that you keep this visit short.”

Contreras led the way to a small room near the entry. It was smaller and warmer than Adeline’s office, with several chairs, built-in bookcases with history books and antique knick-knacks, and on one wall a map of Texas from before Texas became a state.

Adeline sat on a chair with her laptop, dressed in jeans and a simple blouse, her eyes rimmed red. “My campaign manager just died,” she said. “I’m … having a difficult time. Can this wait until tomorrow? Or after the weekend? Harper’s memorial is on Saturday.”

“I’m sorry, this can’t wait,” Barry said. “We’re here about Mr. Garza.”

“How did you hear about his death?” Lucy asked.

“Airport security contacted me when they searched his identification and learned he worked for me. Why does that matter? Everyone I care about is dying.”

“You mean murdered,” Lucy said.

She blinked. “Harper was murdered. Security said that Rob collapsed at the airport.”

“He was murdered at the airport,” Lucy said. “When did you last speak to Mr. Garza?”

Adeline was struggling with her composure. “Yesterday,” she said. “After lunch.”

“Where were you?”

“Here. We were working…” Her voice trailed off and she didn’t look at them.

“What did you discuss?”

“That’s none of your business,” she snapped. “It was campaign related.”

“Did you discuss the girl I showed you a picture of yesterday? Her name is Elise Hansen.”

“N-no,” she said.

Lucy didn’t believe her. Did this woman actually think that she was a believable liar?

“Were you aware that Rob Garza had hired Ms. Hansen for sex when he was in Washington?”

“No.” She wasn’t looking at Barry or Lucy, but at the bookshelf behind them. She was trying hard to keep it together.

Lucy continued to push. “Were you aware that Mr. Garza paid Ms. Hansen more than ten thousand dollars to come to San Antonio for the purpose of seducing your husband and taking pornographic photos?”

Adeline paled. “N-no. He wouldn’t.”

“Were you aware that Mr. Garza shot Ms. Hansen when she tried to collect the money?”

“God, no. No. That’s not possible.”

“We had an arrest warrant and were looking for Mr. Garza when he attempted to flee our jurisdiction by buying a ticket from Dallas to New York City. We believe he may have been trying to leave the country. But he was killed before he could board the plane by an unknown assailant. The Dallas FBI office in conjunction with Homeland Security is investigating his murder. But we’re finding it hard to believe that you didn’t know your campaign manager and chief consultant had your husband killed.”

“I— That’s not what happened. I had nothing to do with it. But—no. He couldn’t be—but—” She stared at the wall behind them, not looking at either Barry or Lucy.

Lucy said, “Mrs. Worthington, do you know a man who goes by the name Tobias?”

Adeline started to shake. “Oh God. Oh God.”

Barry glanced at Lucy and for a moment she thought that Barry was angry because she’d brought up Tobias, but his expression was one of total surprise.

He said to Adeline, “How do you know Tobias?”

“No. I mean, I’ve never met him, but…” She got up from her seat and walked to the bookshelf. She pushed in three books, and a hidden compartment opened. “Tobias thinks I took money from him. He killed Harper. I … I didn’t think Rob had anything to do with it, but maybe…”

Adeline handed Barry an envelope.

“What is this?” he asked.

“Proof that I didn’t kill my husband.”

Barry first looked into the envelope, then he cautiously pulled out a single piece of paper. Lucy read over his shoulder.



Adeline ~



I told you two months ago that if you changed allegiances, you would regret it. I want what you owe me. You have forty-eight hours, or you’re next.



I know you won’t say anything to the police or FBI about this note, because I have enough evidence to bury you. Not only evidence of our arrangement, but proof that you had your husband killed.



~ Tobias



Barry took out a photo from the envelope. It was Harper Worthington half-naked in the motel room.

Lucy’s stomach tightened. Elise Hansen must have taken this photo—and there was nothing sexual about it. It was obvious that the man was dead.

“You have to protect me,” she said. “He’ll kill me.”

“What was your arrangement with Tobias?” Lucy asked.

She opened her mouth, then closed it. “I can’t tell you that.”

“This note says that he has proof that you had Harper killed.”

“I didn’t! He set it up. He’s framing me! Rob must have been in on it, because that whore was his—” She stopped talking.

“You said you’d never seen Elise Hansen,” Lucy said.