Best Laid Plans(88)

But he’d never have a baby with her. Sean would make a wonderful father, and she feared by loving her, he was missing an amazing opportunity. That she was denying him a child of his own. Watching Sean with Molly reminded her that she wasn’t whole, she’d never have a child that was half her, half Sean. Then she’d feel guilty, thinking about all the other women who couldn’t have children. Why couldn’t she just accept it and get on with her life? Why did this overwhelming sense of loss keep coming back? Why did she feel like she was still broken?

She sighed and closed her eyes. Tears burned behind her lids, but she didn’t cry.

She hated feeling sorry for herself.

“Lucy,” a voice said. “Lucy, I’m home.”

She blinked and stretched. “I guess I fell asleep. What time is it?”

“Nearly ten. I’m sorry I’m so late. I got wrapped up in the files at HWI.”

She yawned. “I think I’ve been asleep for a couple of hours.”

“You needed it.” He sat next to her and kissed her. Looked her in the eyes as he rubbed her neck. “You still look tired. Did you eat?”

“I had a late lunch.”

He frowned. “That’s not sufficient. Sit, relax, I’ll make you a sandwich.”

“I’m not an invalid. I don’t want a sandwich. Are there any leftovers from last night?”

“I might be able to whip something up in the microwave. Stay. I’ll be right back.”

Sean seemed to like waiting on her. She appreciated it, but didn’t expect it. She stood and fully stretched, hearing her bones crack and pop. The couch was comfortable, but not good for sleeping.

Five minutes later, Sean returned with two plates of barbecue leftovers. “You gotta love microwaves,” he said when he set them down on the coffee table. He reached into each pocket of his pants and pulled out two beers.

“Wow. Anything else in there?” she teased.

“You’ll have to find out later.” He winked. “Eat. Tell me what all this is.” He picked up the package of paper from Harper’s tablet.

She was glad to talk about work. It distracted her from all the emotions she didn’t want. She explained that the files had been on Harper Worthington’s tablet, that they suspected the list of numbers were land parcels, but admitted she was a bit lost on the dates.

“I know exactly what this is,” he said.

“Really?”

“I’m guessing. But I’ve been going over the BLM audit all day, trying to figure out what had Harper so obsessed with it. Now I think I know—it wasn’t the audit numbers, it was the transactions. I think these dates match up with these parcel numbers, and I think these parcel numbers are properties that the government sold or purchased over the last seven years.”

“Since Adeline Worthington was elected.”

Sean glanced at her. “You think she’s corrupt?”

“I know she is. There’s an undercover FBI investigation ongoing right now. Barry and I almost got pulled from the murder investigation because the UC thought we had exposed him.”

“You met with the undercover agent?”

She told Sean about Logan Dunbar and his fear that she would blow his cover.

“He wanted us off the case because we’re making Adeline nervous.”

“Do you think she’s guilty of murder?”

“If she knew her husband was investigating her—forget the FBI—then yes, I think she could have done it. She has a spine of steel, and it’s much easier to hire someone than to do it yourself. But the method? It’s … bizarre. Poison him and have the room set up like he’d been with a prostitute? Why would she do it that way?”

“Because the spouse is always suspected. Such an embarrassing situation would immediately put her lower on the list.”

“Maybe. I don’t like her.”

“I can tell.”

“If I were planning a murder, especially if I would be a suspect, I wouldn’t create something so elaborate. I would find a way to make it look like an accident.”

“And I’m sure you would get away with it.”

She glanced at him and almost laughed. “Hardly. I don’t lie very well.”

“Maybe.”

She ignored Sean’s comment because it bugged her. She didn’t want to become a good liar. The few lies she’d told weighed heavily on her.

“We found the prostitute,” she said. “Whoever hired her shot her last night.”

“Is she okay?”

“She will be. She’s in the hospital, but Tia sent me a message earlier that the doctor is releasing her at noon tomorrow, provided there are no complications. We’re going to arrest her.”

“For murder?”

Lucy nodded and sipped her beer. “She’s scared and defiant. She’s been on her own for a long time, and she doesn’t trust anyone. But when we pushed her on the murder, she swore up and down that she thought she was giving him a knockout drug. She said a ‘happy’ drug—maybe XTC or ketamine or a combo drug. She claims that she was hired to take dirty pictures of him, not to kill him, that she didn’t even know him. She was sent to the room and told to wait for Harper to arrive, then drug him and take sex pictures.”