The Perfect Murder by Kat Martin
TEN
Reese showered and dressed in slacks, a crisp white shirt and a navy blue blazer. He was ready but found himself reluctant to leave. He thought of Arial Kaplan and the evening ahead, supper at Chez Julienne, then back to Arial’s apartment for an after-dinner drink, a brief seduction, and sex.
Arial was beautiful, with the deep red hair and pale complexion of a true redhead, marred not even by a single freckle. She was an attorney, smart, if a little self-absorbed. He told himself the only reason he was hesitant was the work he needed to do. He’d been out of the office all day. He didn’t want to get too far behind.
Pulling out his cell, he phoned Arial and postponed their date until tomorrow night, then phoned Derek Stiles, his acquisitions VP, and asked if he was free for dinner.
“Matter of fact, I am,” Derek said. “My lady’s out of town. Give us a chance to catch up on a few things.”
“Fleming’s?” Reese suggested, a place not far away they both enjoyed.
“Great, I’ll see you there.”
Reese hung up the phone, thinking of Arial, wishing he didn’t feel such a sense of relief. He just had too much on his mind, he told himself as he stripped off his blazer and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, looking forward to a more casual evening.
Tomorrow night he’d be ready for a little diversion and Arial was just the woman to provide it. Reese left the apartment and headed for Fleming’s Steakhouse.
Unfortunately, the evening didn’t go the way he planned. Derek remained concerned about the incidents plaguing the Poseidon. When Reese told him the NTSB had concluded the crash was intentional, Derek went ballistic.
“Dammit, Reese, you realize what that means? That crash has to be connected to the other accidents. If it is, someone wants to destroy this deal bad enough to commit murder.”
Reese ignored the unease filtering through him. “Maybe. Or maybe it was about something else altogether, and I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Until we get some answers, we can’t afford to jump to conclusions.”
He went on to fill Derek in on the actions he was taking, what he’d learned so far, and his appointment at the sheriff’s office in the morning.
“You sure you don’t want to call your brothers?” Derek asked. “Arrange some kind of personal protection?”
“I should know more in a day or two. My instincts say there’s something else going on here. If it looks like the threat is real, I’ll take care of it.”
He wouldn’t have brought Kenzie with him if he’d believed he was putting her in danger. But he worked faster and more efficiently with her helping him sort things out and stay on track. “In the meantime, I won’t take any unnecessary risks.”
Instead of feeling refreshed after a night away from work, Reese felt tired and out of sorts the next morning. He was driving back to Galveston, Kenzie in the passenger seat of the Rover, looking nearly as tired as he felt, but still so beautiful his mouth went dry every time he glanced in her direction.
The attraction he felt for her was growing stronger. He should have slept with Arial last night. The distraction would have at least kept him sane this morning instead of aching for a woman he couldn’t have. He’d make up for it tonight. Take Arial until he was too tired and sated to think of Kenzie even for a moment.
He turned off Broadway Avenue, headed toward his destination. The sheriff’s department on 54th Street off Highway 87 wasn’t far from the Sea Titan heliport on Pelican Island. A white, green-striped sheriff’s pickup sat in front of an unimposing white concrete block structure.
Kenzie got out of the Rover and her soft perfume teased his senses as she walked past. Gritting his teeth against the blood that began to flow south, Reese silently cursed. At the front counter, he spoke to a dark-haired female deputy whose name tag read M. Orlando, introduced himself and Kenzie.
“I called earlier. Sheriff Martinez arranged for me to speak to Deputy Hollenbeck.” Like a lot of people, the sheriff had been impressed by Reese’s position as Garrett Resources CEO. He needed information. He would use whatever leverage he could get.
“I’ll tell Deputy Hollenbeck you’re here.” Threading her way around several men in dark green uniforms, Deputy Orlando headed for the rear of the building, then returned a few minutes later followed by a tall guy with a square jaw and sandy hair combed straight back from a wide forehead.
“You’re Garrett?” he asked.
“That’s right. And this is my assistant, McKenzie Haines.”
“I’m Deputy Hollenbeck. Sheriff Martinez said you wanted to talk to me about the break-in at the heliport.”
“That’s right. Anyplace we can speak in private?”
Hollenbeck’s gaze went to Kenzie, slid over her in a way that made Reese’s jaw go tight. “Follow me.”
The deputy led them into a small, multipurpose room with a TV monitor on the wall and a rectangular walnut conference table that seated six.
Hollenbeck sat down at one end. Reese seated Kenzie, then took a chair between her and the deputy.
“I’d like to know how it went down,” Reese said. “What you found when you answered the call.”
The deputy studied his notes. “It was a little after eight that morning when dispatch got the call. Apparently, one of the mechanics noticed the open window and discovered it had been pried open sometime during the night.”
“So there was evidence of forced entry.”
“That’s right. Probably a crowbar. Window’s big enough for a guy to crawl through without much problem.”
“You check for prints?”
He nodded. “Standard procedure on a possible burglary. Didn’t find anything usable, just a bunch of smudges on the windowsill. Nothing that could help us find the intruder.”
“Any video cameras on the premises?”
“Not in there.”
“So someone broke in, but nothing was stolen.”
“No, not according to the mechanics on duty that morning.”
“Any chance the window could have been jimmied from the inside? Just made to look like a break-in?”
Hollenbeck stiffened, his ego cranked at the idea he might not have done his job as well as he should have.
“No. It was a metal-sashed window, bent inward around the edges then shoved open. No way the break-in was faked.”
“What about other break-ins on Pelican Island?” Kenzie asked. “Something that was reported before or after that morning? Or something that happened in the surrounding area?”
Good question, Reese thought. She’d been quiet since they’d left Houston. Clearly she hadn’t slept, either. He hoped Lee Haines wasn’t giving her more problems.
Hollenbeck cut her a glance that slid like grease over her breasts. “I can check it out for you. Maybe you could give me a call this afternoon.”
Reese clenched his jaw. No way was she calling the bastard. “If nothing was missing, what was the intruder after?”
Hollenbeck’s mouth flattened out. “How the hell should I know?”
Reese controlled his temper. “Since the crash was just upgraded to a homicide, you might want to give it some thought—before the FBI arrives to ask you the same question.”
“Homicide? Someone brought that chopper down on purpose?”
“That’s right.”
Color surfaced in Hollenbeck’s neck and crept into his face. “I hadn’t heard.”
“The helo gears were tampered with,” Reese continued. “The break-in means someone besides the regular crew had access. You got anything that could point us toward who might have broken in that night?”
Hollenbeck shook his head. “Like I said, I can look at other break-ins and burglaries in the area. Maybe that’ll turn up something.”
The tension in Reese’s jaw eased. The deputy’s attitude had definitely improved. Amazing what tossing around the letters FBI could do. “I appreciate your time and any help you can give us.” Reese handed him a card and rose from the chair.
Kenzie rose, as well. She was wearing black slacks and a dove-gray V-neck blouse in a soft fabric that curved over her full breasts. It was modest by any measure, shouldn’t have looked sexy, but did, which Hollenbeck clearly noticed.
Reese tamped down the irritation he had no right to feel. “I’d appreciate a call if you come up with anything.”
The deputy nodded.
They were on their way back to the Range Rover when Reese’s cell phone rang. He pulled it out and checked the screen.
He paused next to Kenzie on the sidewalk and accepted the call. “Hey, Tab, tell me you’ve got something.”
“Couple of things, actually.”
“Hold a minute. My assistant, Kenzie Haines, is helping me with this. Let me put you on speaker.” They moved into the shade of a nearby tree and Reese held the phone so Kenzie could hear. “Go ahead.”
“I ran the names you gave me, got a couple of interesting hits. Manual Alvarez, the guy off the Poseidon who died in the crash, had a nice little side business going. He worked a typical shift, two weeks on, two off, which gave him plenty of time to deal drugs with his brother, Rico, in Houston.”
Reese smiled. “I know better than to ask how you managed to find this out.”
Tabby laughed. “I had a little help from a mutual friend. I saw where Rico Alvarez was arrested the week before the crash, so I asked Hawk Maddox to look into it, see if there was a chance Rico’s brother, Manuel, was working with him. Sure enough, from what Hawk found out, Manuel and Rico worked as a team and both of them had enemies. Apparently, the money from a couple of recent cocaine deliveries went missing. The guys higher up the food chain weren’t happy about it. Hawk says Rico was lucky he got arrested or he might be as dead as his brother.”
“Hawk thinks they sabotaged the chopper to get to Manuel?”
“He doesn’t know but he says it’s possible.”
“Thanks, Tabby, appreciate the help.”
“You said there were a couple of things,” Kenzie put in. “Was there something else?” She had a way of keeping him focused, one of the reasons he considered her such a valuable asset.
“Not about Manuel, but Hawk made a few more calls and guess what? Turns out, the copilot on the flight, Craig Bigelow, is sleeping with the wife of one of the mechanics who had access to the chopper. You need to call Hawk. He can fill you in.”
Reese nodded. “Will do.”
“I’ll let you know if I come up with anything else.”
Reese ended the call and turned to Kenzie. “It’s lunchtime. There’s a place to eat just down the block. I can call Hawk from there.”
They made their way into a small café called the Sunbonnet and slid into a booth at the back. Pretty, wide-brimmed straw hats banded with silk flowers hung on the walls. The booths were upholstered in bright yellow vinyl, and yellow flowers in small glass vases sat in the middle of the tables.
“Hawk Maddox,” Kenzie said as she picked up a menu. “He’s one of the guys at The Max, right? You’ve mentioned his name a couple of times.”
“Jason Maddox. Everyone calls him Hawk. He’s a bounty hunter, one of the best in the trade. He’s got a network of informants all over the country. You want to know what’s happening in the underbelly of a city, Hawk’s your man.”
A little waitress with a bouncy blond ponytail arrived to take their orders: grilled chicken salad for Kenzie, a pastrami sandwich for Reese. While they waited for the food, Reese phoned Hawk.
“I been expecting your call,” Maddox said, his deep baritone rumbling over the line clear enough for Kenzie to hear. He was a big guy, former spec-ops marine, six foot four inches of solid muscle. He was recently married and extremely happy about it.
“I understand you’ve got information for me,” Reese said. “I’m putting you on speaker so my assistant can hear.”
“Kenzie, right? Chase mentioned you were with her at some fundraiser he and Harper went to.”
“My date canceled at the last minute and Kenzie filled in for her.”
“I hear she’s a real stunner.”
Reese’s glance strayed toward her. Impossible to deny it. Kenzie was beautiful. “She’s sitting right here, you know. She can hear what you’re saying.”
“Hi, Hawk,” Kenzie said with a smile so warm he felt a little pinch in his chest.
“Nice to meet you, Kenzie,” Hawk said.
“You mind if we get back to business?” Reese grumbled, mildly irritated and not quite sure why.
“You know about Rico and Manuel Alvarez?” Hawk asked.
“Tabby brought me up to speed on the brothers. She says you have info on the copilot.”
“That’s right. One of the mechanics who works on Pelican Island is a guy named Tex Lovell. Wife’s name is Suzy. Word is Suzy gets around. Lately she’s been sleeping with Craig Bigelow, the copilot on the chopper that went down.”
Bigelow’s name was on his list. He cast Kenzie a glance and could tell she understood the ramifications, that maybe Bigelow was the target, not him.
“So aside from a dead drug dealer with some serious enemies, we’ve got a possible jealous husband who could have jimmied the gears in order to kill his rival.”
“That’s about it,” Hawk said.
“Anything else?”
“Not at the moment, but I’ve put the word out. I’ll let you know if something turns up.”
“Thanks, Maddox, I owe you.”
“No way. As I recall, you were the one who saved my ass last time around.”
Reese chuckled at the memory of the night he and Kate Gallagher—now Hawk’s wife—had rescued him from a Houston brothel.
The call ended, the food arrived, and they settled in to eat. He had two new leads to follow, both of which put him in the clear as the target of the crash. He looked at Kenzie and felt a little better about bringing her along.
Unfortunately, until he knew for sure what had happened, he had to keep digging. Which meant another night in Houston, another night with Kenzie sleeping in the room next to his.
Reese slid her a glance and thought how pretty she looked surrounded by colorful straw bonnets and bright yellow flowers, her mahogany curls loose around her shoulders.
Inwardly, he groaned.
