Best Laid Plans(71)

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.