The Perfect Murder by Kat Martin
EIGHT
The twice-monthly staff meeting Reese presided over had just come to an end. VPs from every department—Finance, Human Resources, Marketing, Sales, and Promotion—had all presented an update report.
As CEO, it was his job to set the strategy and direction of the company. To do that, he had to know what was going on with their top competitors, which markets to enter, how much capital was needed to expand company profits, and a well of other information. It was challenging, but a job he was good at.
Better than good, when he kept his mind focused on work.
Unfortunately, his thoughts had been scattered since the night of the benefit. It was past time he stopped thinking of Kenzie as a woman, remembering how beautiful she had looked that night. Kenzie was a valued employee, one he admired and respected. That was the way things had to remain.
Since he was a master at controlling his emotions, he knew he could do it. He’d already started distancing himself, getting himself back on track.
Still, as he left the conference room on the way to his office and saw a man in a cheap brown suit handing her a manila envelope, he changed course and headed in that direction.
“What’s going on?” he asked, not liking the pale color of her face as she stared at the documents she had taken from inside.
“Good luck, Mrs. Haines,” the man in the suit called out. Turning, he walked away. Kenzie looked up at Reese, her expression bleak.
“That was a process server. Lee filed for full custody of Griffin.”
Reese clamped down on a surge of anger, disliking Lee Haines more than ever. “On what grounds?”
“Not complying with the terms of the original custody agreement. When we divorced, I was only working part-time. Then the money from the settlement began to run out and I started a full-time job. In March I took the job here, working for Garrett Resources. It’s a full work week plus occasional overtime.”
“We can figure that out. If you need more time with your family—”
Kenzie shook her head. “That’s not it. Not really. You already make concessions most employers wouldn’t. The truth is Lee doesn’t care how many hours I work. Nor is he interested in actually raising his son. Something’s up. I know it. You saw him at the hospital. Lee’s barely a father to Griff.”
“What is it, then?”
“I’m not sure, but...” She glanced at the sheaf of court documents in her hand. “Lee’s brother, Daniel, is a Louisiana state senator. I think Arthur wants Lee to run for the senate here in Texas.”
Reese liked Arthur Haines even less than Lee. “What’s that got to do with Griff?”
“I remember Arthur talking about it during the divorce. He begged me not to leave his son. Even then Arthur had political ambitions for Lee. Being a divorced man isn’t good for a candidate. But a single father raising a young boy would have great voter appeal. Arthur probably believes it’ll give Lee the edge he needs to win.”
“How’s Arthur’s relationship with his grandson?”
She sighed. “Griff barely knows him. He isn’t a kid kind of guy.”
Reese tipped his head toward his office. “Let’s go inside where we can talk.”
Kenzie walked ahead of him and he closed the door behind them. “I know a good attorney. One of the best in Dallas. He can handle this, make sure you don’t lose custody. He’s expensive but you don’t have to worry, I’ll take care of it.”
She started shaking her head. “You can’t possibly mean to pay for my lawyer.”
“You need help. That’s what people do. They help each other.”
“I can’t. People might talk. It might cause problems for you. I’m not willing to take the chance.”
“Listen to me, dammit. It’s okay to let people in once in a while. It isn’t charity. It’s just being a friend.”
Her pretty golden eyes filled, and his chest tightened. “Griff needs you, Kenzie. Let me help you.”
She turned away, walked slowly over to the window and just stood there looking down at the people on the street, the same line of protesters who had been there last week.
With a shuddering breath, she walked back. “Call him. I don’t want to lose my son. I don’t have any choice.”
Reese worked to keep his voice even. “His name’s Drew Wilcox. He’s with Wilcox, Sullivan, and Boyle. I’ll phone him, tell him you’ll be in touch. You can set up a meeting in your home. That way he can meet Griff and your grandmother, see where you live.”
Resigned, she nodded. “Okay.”
“Don’t worry. Whatever Lee does, we’re not going to let him win.”
Kenzie looked up at him and something moved across her features. “Thank you.”
“You can thank me when this is over.” Heading to his desk, he forced his mind away from Kenzie and her problems, which shouldn’t in any way be his yet somehow felt as if they were.
“In the meantime, I need you to set up that trip to Houston. I’ve given it some thought and since I’ll be asking questions that might stir up trouble, I think it would be better if you stayed here.”
“Why? Because you’re afraid you might have been the target of the crash?”
“That’s right, and if someone wants me dead, being with me could put you in danger.”
“At this point you don’t know if the crash had anything to do with you.”
“That’s exactly what I need to find out.”
“I can help you with that, and until there’s a reason to suspect you’re the one they were after, there’s no reason for me not to go.”
She was right. He was jumping to conclusions. If he’d been the target, there likely would have been another attempt on his life by now.
“What about Lee and the situation with Griff?” he asked. “If you need to be here, I can manage on my own.”
Her chin firmed. “You need me, so I’m going. I’m not letting Lee ruin my life—or interfere in my work.”
Reese felt the pull of a smile. “I guess that settles it, then. Let me know when you get the schedule worked out.”
Clutching the custody papers against her chest, Kenzie turned and walked away. When the door closed, Reese realized his pulse was hammering. He was still worked up about the guy in the suit. He was worried about Kenzie. He didn’t want anyone hurting her. He didn’t want anyone making her cry.
Something he couldn’t afford to feel spread through him. Something he was determined to purge from his mind and heart. Sitting down at his desk, he picked up the phone.
That night and the next, he went out with different women, took them to dinner, then to bed. All he felt the next day was empty. His rigid control was returning. He was putting his lapse of judgment behind him. Everything was smoothing out, getting back to normal.
Then it was Wednesday morning, time to head for Houston. Kenzie was meeting him at the Dallas Executive Airport. They’d be flying down in the company jet, a sleek white Citation CJ4. The jet was an amazing time-saver, well worth the money it had cost.
As he’d packed for the trip, he had again considered leaving Kenzie in Dallas, but with her sharp mind and knack for organization, she would be a real asset.
Still, instead of facing an evening alone with her, he arranged a date with a beautiful redhead named Arial Kaplan, whom he’d spent a few nights with when he’d been working in the Houston office earlier this year. Arial had given him an open invitation to call her whenever he was in town, an invitation that included more than just dinner.
Sleeping with Arial would keep his mind off Kenzie, Reese told himself. He’d be able to concentrate on the investigation and find the man who had sabotaged the chopper.
Or at least find out if someone wanted to stop the Poseidon deal enough to kill him.
A little over an hour after takeoff, the Garrett Resources jet landed at the West Houston Airport, the closest airstrip to the Energy Corridor, where the Houston office was located.
Kenzie smiled. She wasn’t a fan of flying, but if you had to travel, a private jet was definitely the way to go.
The plane began its descent. The September day was muggy and overcast, hinting at rain, the landing a little bumpy. Crossing the tarmac, Kenzie walked with Reese toward a pair of black Range Rovers kept at the terminal for out-of-town guests in Houston on Garrett Resources business.
Kenzie sat in the passenger seat as Reese drove the Rover to an apartment building not far away, four units the company leased to accommodate those same people.
Kenzie had been there several times. She knew Reese’s private apartment sat at the end of the hall, though she had never been inside. She carried her overnight bag into the unit next door, a nicely furnished one-bedroom with a modern kitchen and spacious bath.
Once they were settled, she joined Reese for the drive south from Houston to Galveston, to the Sea Titan Pelican Island heliport. Reese was quiet along the way, as he had been all week, adjusting the volume on the satellite radio to fill the gaps in the conversation.
Reese was CEO of the company. Kenzie had a feeling he regretted his brief lapse in the office on Monday when the process server had appeared and he had allowed his emotions to surface. She knew him well enough to know he had a protective streak when it came to his family, friends, even his employees.
Kenzie was grateful for the distance he was putting between them. She needed to rein herself in, get herself back on track, and Reese-the-CEO, instead of Reese-the-smoking-hot-date, or Reese-the-good-friend, made that a whole lot easier.
She tipped her head back against the headrest as the Rover rolled along I-45. She had accepted Reese’s help with the attorney because she’d had no choice, but she never should have let down her guard and allowed herself to think of him as anything more than her employer. She wouldn’t let it happen again.
Reese used the control on the steering wheel to turn down the volume on the radio. “I understand you met with Drew Wilcox.”
“He called you?”
“Just to let me know he’d talked to you and was taking the case. How did it go?”
“I liked Drew very much and so did Gran. He seemed confident and extremely capable.” He also seemed to understand that even with her generous salary, there was never enough money when you had two other people depending on you.
“Have you told Griff his dad wants custody?”
“Not yet. I’m hoping Drew will present my case—a single mother supporting her son and grandmother—and get the court to alter the divorce stipulations and allow me to keep my full-time job.”
He nodded. “If that happens, Lee’s case will never get off the ground.”
“That’s what I’m hoping. Drew has submitted some kind of brief that asks the judge for a dismissal. He thinks there’s at least a chance of that happening.”
“What about Lee?”
“If Lee wants more time with Griff, I don’t have any objections, but I doubt that’s what he’s really after.”
The Rover slowed, Reese changed lanes, and through the heavy morning mist, Galveston appeared on the horizon. The windshield wipers went on, the blades sweeping intermittently across the glass.
“We’re almost there,” Reese said as he continued through Galveston traffic, then turned onto the Pelican Island Causeway. At the heliport, he parked the Rover, and Kenzie stepped out into the misty sea air. She was glad she had dressed down a little, in brown pants and a blue-and-beige-print blouse, belted at the waist, no jacket, since the temperature was still warm.
Reese had dressed more casually, as well, in crisp, perfectly creased dark blue jeans and a yellow knit pullover. Instead of sneakers, he wore expensive Italian loafers.
He held open the glass door to the main office, and they walked up to the reception desk. A young blond man rose as Reese approached. “May I help you?”
“I’m Reese Garrett. I’ve got an appointment with Supervisor Brandt.”
The name Ryan flashed on the young man’s gold-plated name tag. “Mr. Brandt is expecting you. If you’ll please follow me.”
Robert Brandt was in his late forties, with thinning brown hair and a slight paunch over the waistband of his dark brown slacks. He extended his hand, which Reese shook.
“This is my assistant, Kenzie Haines.”
“Ms. Haines.” Brandt nodded in her direction and turned back to Reese. “I’m glad to see you’ve recovered from your injuries.”
“I was lucky. Two other men weren’t. The crash is what I’m here to talk to you about.”
Brandt nodded. “Why don’t we all have a seat?”
They sat down in sky blue vinyl chairs in front of Brandt’s gray metal desk. There were a couple of file cabinets the same bland gray. Framed aerial photos of Sea Titan’s offshore platforms lined the walls.
“By now you know the crash wasn’t an accident,” Reese said, leaning back in his chair.
“That’s right. Frank Milburn called me.”
“I want to know who was responsible and why it happened. I need the names of all the people onboard that day, including the pilot and copilot. I want the names of the mechanics and anyone who had access to the chopper.”
It was information Reese could have pressed for and gotten over the phone, but Kenzie knew he wanted to talk to the people involved in person, see if he could get some answers.
Brandt fell silent.
“If you need to get an approval, I’d suggest you call someone at Sea Titan who can give it to you. It was one of their choppers that went down, and I was on my way to one of their offshore platforms when it happened.”
Brandt conceded with a nod and reached for the phone. “I’ll make the call, but getting an approval might take a while.”
“Keep in mind, a lot more people are going to want the same information—including the FBI.”
Brandt’s hand stilled. He set the phone back down in its cradle. “You’re right. I’ll have Ryan get you the information. It shouldn’t take long.”
Kenzie rose from her chair. “I’ll make sure we get what we need.”
Reese stood up, too. “I appreciate your help with this,” he said to Brandt.
“The pilot, Jake Schofield, was a friend. I was relieved for his family’s sake that the crash wasn’t entirely his fault. I didn’t know Manny Alvarez, the other man who died, but I know he had family. I want the bastard who killed them just as bad as you do.”
