The Perfect Murder by Kat Martin

EIGHTEEN

It was getting dark outside, the evening slipping away. Arthur Haines sat in the study of his Turtle Creek home, elbows on his polished mahogany desk, his head tipped forward into his hands.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Troy Graves sat across from him in a high-backed rose velvet wingback chair, a leg crossed over his knee. The only son of Arthur’s late partner, William Graves, Troy had inherited his father’s half of the company, making him co-owner of Black Sand Oil and Gas.

Arthur straightened. “I appreciate your condolences, but you didn’t come here tonight to talk about my son’s murder.”

“No, I didn’t. Though I sincerely regret the pain Lee’s death has caused you.”

The kid had no idea. Lee was dead because of him. Because of the mistakes Arthur had made. Mistakes he desperately needed to remedy before someone else got killed.

Troy’s hand slid over the straight black hair he slicked back with pomade, and Arthur bit back a laugh. Who did the kid think he was? Fucking Elvis Presley?

Troy had his mother’s pretty face, but a weak chin and devious eyes. When it came to women, his old man’s money made up for it.

“I need to talk to you about the latest developments in the Poseidon deal,” Troy said.

“What about them?”

“Surely you can see this whole thing has gotten out of hand. The helo crash was only supposed to be another accident. No one was supposed to get killed. Garrett wasn’t even supposed to be aboard. For God’s sake, his brother’s a detective. His whole family’s connected to law enforcement in some way. All hell would have broken loose if he’d been the guy who took a chunk of rotor blade between the eyes.”

Arthur leaned back in his chair, making the springs squeak. He was forty pounds overweight and had a heart condition. Too bad the guy who’d killed his son hadn’t shot him instead—saved everybody a lot of trouble.

“You’re the one who came up with the idea,” Arthur reminded him.

“True, but—”

“You and Reese Garrett have a history, as I recall. You went to college together. According to your dad, Reese beat your ass at pretty much everything you competed at, including women.”

“I don’t like the bastard. That wasn’t the reason I suggested we try to take over the deal.”

“No?”

“Dammit, we need that platform. Our market share is in the toilet. First those North Texas wells fizzled out, then we hit a couple of expensive dry holes. We’re on the verge of bankruptcy. We have to do something to save the company.”

“We are doing something. Soon as Garrett pulls out, we’ll be taking over the purchase of the rig.”

“We should have bought the Poseidon when it first came up for sale.” The rig was the best deal to come up on the secondary market, located just ninety miles off the coast and a good, steady producer.

“We didn’t know it was going to sell so cheap,” Arthur reminded him. “Now, with all the accidents, it’s worth even less than it was then. If we take over Garrett Resources’ position, we’ll be able to raise the capital we need to close the sale. Once we own the platform, we can expand even further into offshore drilling. Our market share will go back up and the company will be worth something again.”

Troy fell silent. Until recently, the kid was used to living the high life: trendy designer clothes, accounts at the finest restaurants, a silver Porsche Carrera. With business way off, he had to be worried as hell.

Arthur shifted in the leather chair behind his desk. “I say we keep at it awhile longer. Garrett is good at his job. All the problems with the rig, he’s bound to be thinking of cutting his losses. Once he backs out, we step in and close the sale.”

Troy nodded, the hint of a satisfied smile on his face. Arthur had a feeling he was doing exactly what the kid had intended from the start.

“I don’t like it,” Troy said. “But I guess we’ve got no choice. I’ve got a couple more things already lined up. We can move forward with those, but if Garrett still doesn’t back out, we need to try something else.”

“Agreed,” Arthur said. But there wasn’t anything else to try. He had already exhausted every avenue he could think of before his new partner had talked him into this crazy scheme.

He glanced at Troy, saw something dark in his eyes. The kid was far more ruthless than his father, something Arthur had only recently discovered. A real wolf in sheep’s clothing and used to getting his way.

Nothing Arthur could do about it, and he had his own problems to solve. He only had one more son. Daniel was the best thing he had ever done is his misbegotten life.

Arthur didn’t want to lose that son, too.

Reese sat at his desk the following morning. He hadn’t slept well again last night. After his meeting at police headquarters, he and Kenzie had returned to the office. Immersed in an important budget meeting, he’d had no time to talk to her. The abuse she’d suffered at Lee Haines’s hands was just one of the things they needed to discuss.

As CEO, juggling his busy schedule, keeping all the balls in the air was never easy. Now he was in the middle of a murder investigation. And there was Kenzie. Everything about his attraction to her screamed wrong place, wrong time.

Wrong person.

Still, when he’d seen her first thing that morning, he’d felt the same kick, the same fierce pull of attraction that had drawn him to her from the start. He’d wanted to take her right there in his office, forget his problems and satisfy the hunger he felt just looking at her. He’d wanted to drag her down on top of his desk and bury himself as deep as he could possibly get.

He’d wanted just to hold her.

For the past few hours, he’d managed to force thoughts of her from his mind and concentrate on work. Then her familiar rap again came at his door, the door opened, and she walked into his office.

“Derek Stiles is on the line.” The color was back in her cheeks, her shoulders squared. Just the sound of her voice made him hard. “He’s calling about the Poseidon. He says it’s important.”

She was wearing a peach knit skirt suit with a perky little peach-and-blue print scarf. She was back on her game, he could tell, ready to face whatever lay ahead. Her resilience was one of the things that attracted him so strongly.

“Put the call through.” Forcing himself to ignore the lust he shouldn’t be feeling, he slid the Poseidon file out of the stack of folders on his desk. It was all on his computer, of course, but he liked to have the actual paperwork in front of him.

He flipped open the file and looked up at Kenzie. “I’d like you to sit in on the conversation.”

She nodded, sat down in her usual chair across from him, smoothing her skirt as she crossed her legs. He thought of those pretty legs wrapped around his hips, and his groin tightened.

He hit the speaker button. “What’s going on, Derek?”

“Sorry to start your day off on a sour note, but we’ve got another problem with the rig.”

The way things had been going, he wasn’t surprised. “What is it this time?”

“Gas leak in one of the platform pipes.”

He flicked a glance at Kenzie, saw her make a note on her iPad. “How serious is it?”

“They found the leak and repaired it, but the foreman says it shouldn’t have happened in the first place.”

Reese shoved back his chair and rose, paced a few feet away, then back. “I need to get out there. I want to talk to the foreman and some of the crew, get their opinion on what’s been happening and why.”

“Maybe it’s time to think about cutting our losses. I know we’d lose money, but taking over a rig with this many problems might end up being worse in the long run.”

“I’ve thought about it, believe me. I just don’t like the idea that someone might be playing us. This rig represents all kinds of opportunities. If Sea Titan wasn’t making some major internal changes, they never would have put it up for sale.”

“Yeah, and certainly not at that price.”

“We’ll hold awhile longer. I’ll have Kenzie set up the trip.”

“You want me to go with you?” Derek asked.

“I need you to stay in Houston, keep things running on your end.”

“I can handle that.” Derek was a navy vet, former jet fighter pilot. He was one of the company’s most valuable employees. The call ended and Reese sat back down in his chair.

“I want you to take me with you,” Kenzie said, catching him off guard.

“Why?”

“First, because I think I could be useful. Also because of this.” She set a folded copy of a newspaper on top of his desk and smoothed it open. The Spectator was a tabloid full of splashy headlines, candid photos, and gossip, most of it total BS.

On the cover of the weekly issue was a picture of him and Kenzie getting out of the stretch limo in front of the Adolphus the night of the benefit. “Dallas’s Most Eligible Bachelor, Reese Garrett, and His Executive Assistant, McKenzie Haines.”

In smaller print, “Sexual Favors Part of the Job at Garrett Resources?”

Reese cursed under his breath. “I was hoping this wouldn’t happen.”

“I can’t imagine what the papers will say when they find out I’m a suspect in my ex-husband’s murder—and you’re my alibi.”

“I don’t care what they say.” Rising, he rounded the desk, caught her shoulders, leaned down, and kissed her. For an instant, Kenzie stiffened. Then her mouth softened under his, and she returned the kiss, a small sigh of pleasure slipping from her throat.

“I want to see you,” he said. “I don’t care what the tabloids say. What about dinner tonight?”

“You have no idea how much I want to be with you. But you need to think about the consequences, Reese.”

He thought of his brothers and what they would say when they found out about the article. He thought about the people who worked for him, people he liked and respected. People who respected him.

“All right. We’ll leave town for a couple of days, fly back down to Houston, spend the night, and make that trip out to the rig the next day. You’re my assistant. You go where I need you. Fuck them if they don’t like it.”

Her mouth twitched. He wanted to kiss her again, feel the satiny glide of his tongue over those soft pink lips.

“I can’t leave tomorrow,” she said. “Lee’s funeral is tomorrow afternoon. I’m keeping Griff out of school. I can set up the trip for Friday and we can come back on Sunday.”

He thought about it. As much as he wanted to be with her, he knew it wouldn’t be fair to Griff. The boy needed his mom right now.

“Set it up for next week. We’ll fly down Tuesday morning, go out to the rig on Tuesday, come back Wednesday morning. That gives us a couple of days together, and you’ll still have the weekend with your son.”

He caught the flash of emotion in her eyes. He knew she was worried about Griff. From what she’d said, the boy had taken his father’s death harder than she’d expected. Lee’s murder had been all over the news. Griff was waiting for the police to find the killer. He wanted justice for his dad.

So far he didn’t know his mother was the number one suspect.

“I’ll set it up,” Kenzie said. “But until we can get out of the city, we need to be careful. You have your job to think of, and I have Griff.”

He nodded. She had a family to consider. Why the hell did everything have to be so complicated?

They worked till lunch, had a quick meal sent in to his office, then Kenzie returned to her desk to finish out the day. She was gone by the time he cleared his desk and left for home.

Reese was sitting in the back of the black SUV, Reggie Porter behind the wheel, when his cell phone rang. Chase’s name popped up on the screen. With a sigh of resignation, he pressed the phone against his ear.

“So I guess you saw the paper,” Reese said.

“I didn’t see it. Mindy did.” Chase’s receptionist. “Not a surprise. We knew it could happen. That’s not the reason I’m calling. I’ve got something for you. I’d rather talk in person. I’m at the office, but I can meet you wherever.”

“After the day I’ve had, I could use a drink. How about Clancy’s?” The Irish pub just down the block from Chase’s office, a place The Max crew hung out.

“That’ll work.”

“I was on my way home. I’ll have Reggie swing by and drop me off.” Fifteen minutes later, he walked past the old-fashioned etched glass windows and strode into Clancy’s. The interior of the pub was all dark wood, with wooden booths and tables in the dining area and a long oak bar with at least twenty different beers on tap.

Chase waved as he approached, a bottle of Lone Star already sitting in front of him. Reese took off his suit coat, hung it on the brass hook at the end of the booth, and slid onto the seat across from his brother. Seconds later, a waitress with short curly blond hair arrived to take his order.

“Jameson,” Reese said. “Neat.”

The blonde flashed him a smile. “I’ll be right back.”

Stretching his legs out in front of him, he leaned against the back of the booth. “What’s up?”

“Aside from your fame in the tabloids?”

He grunted. “Yeah.”

Chase took a drink of his beer. “So how are things going with you and Kenzie?”

“I have no idea. In the office, she’s all business, which is good because it keeps me focused. We haven’t been anywhere together except the police station since this began.”

“If you’re seriously interested in her, you need to fix that.”

He sighed. “I know.” Were his feelings for Kenzie serious? She already meant more to him than any woman he could recall, but until he spent more personal time with her, he couldn’t be sure.

“Haines’s funeral is tomorrow,” Reese said. “I haven’t talked to Kenzie about it, but I’m planning to go. We won’t be together, but at least she’ll know I’m there.”

Chase nodded.

Reese’s drink arrived and he took a grateful sip, felt the burn of the alcohol loosen his muscles and joints. “So why are we here?”

Chase set his beer bottle down on the table. “Hawk called. He’s out of town. Got a lead on a skip he’s been hunting, so he gave me the info he had, figured I could follow up.”

“And?”

“Nobody knows anything about Haines’s murder. No rumors, no speculation, nothing. According to what I could get out of Heath Ford, the cops don’t have jack, either. No prints, no blood evidence, absolutely nothing left at the crime scene. The only thing they have is the murder weapon, registered to Kenzie, found two blocks away. It was wiped completely clean. Other than that, zero, zip, nada.”

Reese sipped his scotch. “And this helps us...how?”

“According to Hawk—and I agree—the murder had to be a hit. And it had to have been done by a real pro.”

Reese frowned. “So not a fight that got out of hand or a crime of passion?”

“No way.”

Reese felt a rush of relief. He’d always believed in Kenzie’s innocence, but he didn’t like the uncertainty that crept in once in a while. “Hawk have any ideas who might have done it?”

“Several, actually. His personal favorite is a guy who works for the mob in Louisiana. He’s a real ghost. No one even knows his name.”

“What makes Hawk think he’s the guy?”

“Apparently, the shooter’s known for getting the job done without leaving any trace evidence. He’s meticulous in his research and planning. Knows the target inside and out. What the subject does, where he lives, who’s in his bed. He formulates a plan, eliminates his quarry, and does whatever it takes to divert attention away from himself.”

“Like using the gun that was in Lee’s house, then tossing it for the cops to find.”

Chase nodded. “He probably knew Haines had the pistol and where he kept it. The shooter might even have known it was registered to his ex.”

“If the guy was that good, why did it take him three bullets to put Haines away?”

“Probably the same reason he used Haines’s gun then planted it. To make it look like an amateur instead of a pro.”

Reese sipped his scotch. “Why would a Louisiana mob hit man want to kill Lee Haines?”

“No idea. But I’ll keep working on it. Unfortunately, Bran’s headed back to Colorado. He’s got to finish getting the new office set up by the end of the week. He didn’t want to leave but I told him we could handle things here.”

Bran’s wife, Jessie, loved the city, and he was always up for a new challenge.

“Bran’s going to keep digging,” Chase said. “He’ll let us know if he comes across anything useful.”

Reese sipped his whiskey. “I remember Kenzie mentioning Lee’s brother is a Louisiana state senator.”

“Could be something.”

“Next time I see Kenzie, I’ll ask her about it.”

Chase nodded, finished the last of his beer, and slid out of the booth. “Your drink’s on my tab. I’ve got a pretty wife waiting at home. I’ll let you know if I turn up anything new.”

As his brother left, Reese felt a pang of envy. Once he had wanted the kind of life his brothers now had. After his divorce, that had changed. Marriage to Sandra had soured him. He wasn’t sure he would ever try it again.

Kenzie’s image popped into his head and arousal slipped through him. There was no doubt he wanted her. More than that? He needed time to find out.