The Perfect Murder by Kat Martin

TWENTY-THREE

After what seemed a very long weekend, Kenzie arrived at the office early Monday morning. She was anxious to see Reese, not quite sure where they stood.

She glanced up as the elevator doors slid open and Reese walked out, power and confidence in every long stride as he crossed the deep-pile carpet. Heat washed over her just looking at him. When those crystal blue eyes focused on her like twin laser beams, her stomach contracted in blatant sexual desire.

“Good morning,” he said, nothing more than those few words, but it seemed as if he reached out and touched her. A memory arose of lying with him, of Reese’s mouth on her breasts, of him moving deep inside her.

Ignoring the warmth creeping into her cheeks, she rose from the chair behind her desk. “Are you ready for me?”

He usually just nodded. They always went over his schedule first thing and discussed what needed to be done.

This morning his lips twitched. “I’m definitely ready,” he said.

She flushed. She knew exactly what he meant. She was ready for him, too. She had thought of him constantly. It was the reason companies didn’t encourage office affairs.

She rose to follow him but turned at the sound of a man’s deep voice. Reese was staring over her shoulder, watching a big blond man with a flattop haircut walking toward them. Dressed in a dark brown suit and wingtip shoes, he strode past them, right into Reese’s office.

“Well, Special Agent Taggart,” Reese said dryly. He motioned for Kenzie to join them, then closed the door. “I hope this means you’ve found the man responsible for the Sea Titan helicopter crash.”

“You could say that. Currently, he’s lying on a slab in the morgue.”

Reese’s glance cut to her. “FBI Special Agent Quinn Taggart, meet my executive assistant, McKenzie Haines.”

Taggart dipped his chin in greeting. “Ms. Haines...”

“Special Agent.”

“Kenzie’s been involved in the investigation since the day the chopper went down, so I’d like her to sit in on our conversation.”

Taggart nodded. “That’s not a problem. This won’t take long.”

They moved to the seating area around the dark walnut coffee table. Reese offered the agent something to drink, but he declined.

“Last week,” Taggart began, “a mechanic named Louis Kroft was murdered outside a vacant warehouse in Dallas. Took two .45 caliber slugs to the chest, plus a stray bullet that ricocheted off the gravel and lodged in his abdomen. We were able to ID him, track him back to where he was living in Port Arthur. He’d only been working there a few weeks, coincidentally took the job not long after the Sea Titan helicopter went down. Turns out he was an expert on the EC135.”

Kenzie remembered the moment she’d heard about the deadly crash and felt a sudden chill.

“You think this is the guy?” Reese asked.

“Looks that way. Before the move, Kroft worked as a helicopter mechanic in Dallas. Quit his job and left town shortly after the crash. We found a couple of big deposits in his bank account, and gas receipts from a station in Galveston. We’re still investigating, but there’s a good chance it’s him.”

“So who killed him?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it? That and the reason he was murdered. Clearly he was working for someone else. That’s the person we’re looking for now.”

“Can you trace the money back to its source?”

Taggart shook his head. “Cash deposits made by Kroft himself.” He shoved his big frame up from the sofa. “I figure you’re probably still digging around. You hear anything about this guy or anything else, you let me know.”

Reese nodded. “I will.”

Taggart turned to Kenzie. “Pleasure meeting you, Ms. Haines.”

“Agent Taggart.” She didn’t say it was a pleasure meeting him, too. She’d had enough of law enforcement to last a lifetime. And now the mechanic who had sabotaged the helicopter was dead. Whichever way they turned, murder and mayhem swirled around them.

Reese followed Taggart to the door and closed it behind him. Then he turned back to Kenzie. Surprise jolted through her when he pulled her into his arms and kissed her so thoroughly her knees went weak. She was trembling when he let her go.

“Sorry. I just needed to get that out of my system. I missed you and I’ve been worried about you.”

“We...we can’t do that, Reese. I can’t concentrate on my job if I’m thinking about you instead of business.”

He nodded, a faint, unrepentant smile on his lips. “You’re right. I promise it won’t happen...often.” He actually grinned. “Now we can get to work.”

Kenzie laughed. She had never seen this side of him, relaxed and slightly playful. It only made him more attractive.

“Before we get started,” she said, “I should probably tell you Detective Ford came by to see me. He questioned me about the shooting skills my dad taught me and warned me I could be dragging you into a lot of trouble.”

Reese frowned. “Next time you don’t talk to him. You call Nathan.”

“I thought about it. Next time I will.”

“Good. Now let’s go over my schedule for the week—starting with when we’ll have time to see each other outside the office. Tonight would be a good start.”

Kenzie smiled, the anxiety she’d felt all weekend slipping away. Reese still wanted her. For now, everything was okay.

Except that she was still the primary suspect in her ex-husband’s murder. A chill of foreboding crept down her spine. Everything was definitely not okay.

At the end of the very long workday, Kenzie looked up to see Reese walking toward her.

“So what time am I picking you up?” he asked.

“I...umm...guess you forgot that meeting you have with the mayor and members of the city council. I should have reminded you earlier, but other things came up. They’re expecting you to be there. I don’t see any way around it.”

Reese softly cursed. “All right, if the meeting doesn’t go too late, I’ll call you. Maybe I can stop by for a nightcap.”

The heat in his eyes said a nightcap would lead exactly where Kenzie wanted to go. “Gran goes to bed early. It’s a school night for Griff, so that could work.”

She thought he might lean over and kiss her, but fortunately for both of them, at the last minute he came to his senses.

They left the office anticipating their rendezvous later that night, but fate in the guise of the mayor intervened and Reese’s meeting went past midnight. With their trip to Houston scheduled for the next day, Kenzie was able to squelch her disappointment.

Still, worry about Lee’s murder, and what the police would do when they discovered the money from his life insurance policy, kept her awake. She was shifting restlessly on the mattress, determined to get some sleep, when an odd sound reached her.

When the noise came again, she grabbed her pink cotton robe off the chair and slipped it on. As she stepped into the hall, she recognized the sound as heavy footfalls on carpet and they seemed to be coming from Griff’s bedroom at the end of the hall.

Her pulse kicked up and her mouth went dry. With her pistol gone, she had no weapon to fend off an intruder, and no time to go in search of one. Not when Griff could be in danger.

Hurrying back to her bedroom, she grabbed her keys out of her purse, laced the jagged metal between her fingers as her dad had taught her to do, and stepped back out into the hall. As she approached Griff’s room, she could hear men’s voices, and the taste of fear filled her mouth.

Moving quietly, she turned the knob and silently opened the door. Moonlight steaming in through the open bedroom window illuminated a man lifting her son over a thick shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

“Griff!” She lunged toward him, spotted another man, shorter, with curly black hair, an instant too late. His fist slammed into her jaw, spinning her into the wall, but she kept her grip on the keys.

“Griff!” Struggling to regain her balance, she charged, punching, kicking, raking the keys down his cheek.

“Bitch!” Blood erupted, ran down his face in scarlet rivulets. He reached for her, but she was already racing toward the bigger man holding her son. Griff was unconscious, she realized, his wrists and ankles bound.

Terror struck. “Let him go!” Lashing out with the keys, she fought like a wild thing, screaming for help, praying Gran would hear her in her bedroom downstairs and call the police. Fury and desperation drove her even as the man with the curly black hair jerked her away and punched her in the stomach, then hit her in the face.

Shouting Griff’s name, Kenzie gripped the keys, used them to slice one of his arms, and tried to knee him in the groin.

Still unconscious, Griff never stirred, but the bigger man kept moving, ducking through the bedroom window, descending a ladder propped against the side of the town house.

The man with the curly black hair punched her so hard she hit the wall and slid down to the bedroom floor. Her head spun and her vision dimmed as she flashed in and out of consciousness.

“No cops.” The man grabbed her chin and tilted her head back. “You hear me, lady? You want your kid to live, you keep quiet and do what they tell you. You got it?”

When she didn’t answer soon enough, he slapped her face. “You got it? Say it?”

She swallowed. “No...police.”

“That’s right. You’ll be hearing from us. Till then, keep your mouth shut.”

Kenzie tried to get up, but he hit her again. “And tell your boyfriend he had better keep his fucking brothers out of it.”

Her eyes slid closed. It was the last thing she remembered until Gran opened the door, saw her lying on the floor covered in blood, and screamed.