The Perfect Murder by Kat Martin
TWENTY
Kenzie curled up next to Reese on the sofa beneath the lightweight throw he’d tossed over them. Pulling her close, he slid an arm around her and Kenzie leaned against him. They were quiet for a while.
“I need to tell you about what happened with Lee,” she finally said, braving a subject she dreaded. “I should have told you sooner, but I was embarrassed. I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me.”
Reese caught her chin, forcing her to look at him. “You could never disappoint me, Kenzie. You stayed because you felt you had to for Griff. I understand that. I don’t like that it happened. But Lee’s dead. There’s nothing either one of us can do about it now.”
There was no mistaking the hard note that had crept into his voice. It occurred to her that in one way or another, he would have made Lee pay.
“I should have left sooner,” she said. “There are places that help women in trouble. But more than a year passed between the first incident and the second. By then, I was sure it wouldn’t happen again. Still, that terrible first time made me realize how dependent I was on him. I started making plans just in case. Then one night he came home and I could see the anger in his face. He didn’t hit me that night, but if I had pushed him the least bit, he would have. I was grateful Griff was having a sleepover with one of his friends that night.”
“I saw the way Lee treated you at the hospital. Maybe he knew Griff wouldn’t be there so he could deal with you the way he wanted.”
“Maybe. I don’t know. After that, I knew I had to leave. A few weeks later, he came home early and caught me packing. That was the second time it happened. I moved out a week later.”
Reese released a slow breath. She realized he was working to summon his usually unshakable control. He leaned down and softly kissed her. “I’m sorry for what Lee did to you. But I’m glad you ended up working for me.”
She smiled at him. “So am I.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, Lee’s abusive behavior is just one more thing that makes me look guilty.”
Reese squeezed her hand and sat up straighter on the sofa. “I talked to Chase this afternoon.”
“About the tabloid article?”
“About the murder. Chase and Hawk both think Lee’s killer was a professional, someone good enough to murder him and not leave any evidence—or at least none he didn’t plant.”
She frowned. “You aren’t talking about a hit man of some kind?”
“It’s a possibility. Hawk thinks it could be a guy who works for the Louisiana mob. He’s looking for a connection.”
Unease filtered through her. “Lee’s brother, Daniel, is a Louisiana state senator.”
He nodded. “I remember you saying that.”
“As far as I know, Daniel’s a really good guy. I can’t believe he’d have anything to do with murder.” She had met Lee’s older brother and his wife only a couple of times, but she had liked them both.
“Lee said Daniel was as straight as an arrow. According to Lee, he’d always been his father’s favorite. In Arthur’s eyes, Lee could never quite measure up. I don’t think Daniel would associate with criminals.”
“In Louisiana, the mob is heavy into the casino business,” Reese said. “Was Lee a gambler? The riverboats in Shreveport are only a few hours away.”
“Lee didn’t gamble. He didn’t like to lose at anything. Same reason he didn’t play golf.”
“I’ll dig into it, see what I can find out.” He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, pressed a soft kiss into her palm. He rose from the sofa, magnificently naked. “In the meantime, let’s go to bed.”
She thought of the falcon tattoo on his back and a fresh rush of desire slipped through her. With regret, she shook her head. “It’s a school night. I have to get home.”
“You sure you can’t stay, at least for a while?” At the heat in those amazing blue eyes, her abdomen contracted. Her mouth dried up while the rest of her body went soft and damp.
“I guess I could stay...for a while.”
Reese leaned down and scooped her up into his arms. “We’ll worry about tomorrow when it comes.” Striding down the hall, he carried her into his bedroom. “In the meantime, we deserve a little time to forget.”
Reese made sure that happened.
The night was jet-black, no stars, no moon as Troy Graves turned into a deserted street in the warehouse district. Driving through the gate of an empty metal building surrounded by a chain-link fence, he braked his silver Porsche, slowed to a stop in the shadows, and turned off the engine.
It wasn’t the first time he’d been there. He’d met the same man in the same deserted spot before. He cracked open the car door, eased out, and started walking, his thousand-dollar Balenciaga sneakers crunching on the gravel.
Up ahead, he could just make out the man’s shadowy figure, and rage burned through him. Reaching into the pocket of his windbreaker, he wrapped his fingers around the ivory grip of his Glock 19 semiauto. The gun felt good in his hand.
He’d inherited the weapon from his dad, just like the power he held as half owner of Black Sand Oil and Gas. His father had never fired the weapon, but Troy had. You never knew when you might need to protect yourself.
Just like tonight.
The shadowy figure came into focus as the man came closer. “You bring the money?”
His jaw tightened. “You bring the recording?”
“I said I would, didn’t I? You get the flash drive, I get the cash, and no one’s the wiser.”
“You were well paid for what you did. Now you expect to get paid again, just to keep your mouth shut.”
In the thin rays of moonlight shifting through the clouds, Troy saw the man shrug.
“Things heated up. I had to leave town, start over somewhere else. That takes money, more than you paid me the first time.”
“How do I know the conversation we had hasn’t been copied onto more than one flash drive?”
Another shrug. “Guess that’s just a chance you’ll have to take.”
“Put the flash drive on the ground and back away.”
The man set the flash drive on the asphalt. “Now the money,” he said.
Troy pulled the pistol out of his pocket. “Sorry, I don’t think so.” They were standing about ten feet apart, the perfect kill zone, even for a guy with his lack of experience.
“What the hell?” The clouds parted and more light streamed down, illuminating the white circles of the man’s dark eyes.
“You shouldn’t have come to Dallas,” Troy said. “You should have stayed wherever the hell you went.” Troy pulled the trigger, once, twice, three times. The guy hit the ground before the shots finished echoing off the metal walls of the buildings.
In seconds he had the flash drive in hand and was driving his car back through the gate. The night closed around him as he continued along the roadway back to the city. He wondered how long it would take before the man’s body was found. It didn’t matter. There was no way to connect him to any of this.
Troy smiled. Maybe he’d stop by Heather’s place, celebrate a little. Heather was a good piece of ass, and after the way he’d handled things tonight, he deserved a reward. Troy stepped on the gas.
