Best Laid Plans (12 page)

“SAPD ran all the prints they could get from the motel and nothing popped,” Lucy said. “We’re running them federally, but there’s no criminal. Nothing yet from missing persons.” Lucy sipped her coffee. “You said you had a lead?”

“Maybe. I talked to one of my informants, showed her the picture. She recognized her, said she’s new in town, but doesn’t know anything about her. I have a couple places to check out where she might be. I can do it myself, I don’t want to infringe on your Sunday.”

“I don’t mind.”

“No, seriously—the lead may not pan out. How ’bout this—I’ll check them out, and if I get eyes on her, I’ll call you.”

“Fair enough. I’m doing yard work at the church this afternoon, so I
really
hope you get eyes on her for more than one reason.”

Tia laughed. “Tell Sean I said hi.” She hung up.

Sean came downstairs. “So, do I have you as my slave all day, or does Tia need you?”

“If you put it that way, maybe I should call her back up and tell her I want to tag along.”

He smiled. “So you’re mine today.”

“Every day.”

*   *   *

Adeline Reyes-Worthington took visitors all Sunday at the house. Some were friends and family, others just pretended to be. Everyone had the same thing to say.

“We’re so sorry for your loss.”

“Harper was a wonderful man.”

“We just saw him last week. He seemed so healthy.”

Everyone loved Harper. That affection was the primary reason Adeline had married him. That, and his money. She needed the money to run her campaign. Her father certainly wouldn’t have given it to her. He claimed he didn’t have the five million she needed to win her first election. What had he done while being mayor of San Antonio? He’d helped so many of his friends, why didn’t he help himself? He could have mortgaged his ranch, but of course he wouldn’t do
that.
He loved his damn horses more than he cared about his daughter’s career.

She needed a break. She told Joseph that she was going to her room to lie down and to make apologies for her. What would she have done without Joseph? He had been a rock for her, as her personal assistant and as a friend. He also ran the house—something Harper thought didn’t need to be done, but once Joseph came on board Harper appreciated him.

Instead of going to her room, Adeline went to her private office, upstairs in the west wing. She liked the sound of that. She didn’t expect to ever be president of the United States—a black
man
could be elected president, but not a Hispanic
woman.
She didn’t really care, anyway. She had her own power base right here in the heart of Texas, and it wasn’t going anywhere.

She never brought anyone upstairs to this office, where she worked while at home. The downstairs office with the antiques and view was for guests and meetings; this office was functional with a computer, printer, files, and everything she needed to conduct business—even a separate and secure phone line. She sat at her desk and looked through her schedule. Most events she would have to cancel or reschedule. She cared for Harper, but the timing of his death was poor. She had a lot of pokers in the fire right now, and going through the motions of grief was going to distract her. She supposed if she said that out loud, people would think she was callous, but Harper certainly shouldn’t have been off screwing a prostitute. The information would eventually get out, so she needed to do damage control before it did and make sure that she came out on top.

She sorted through the in-box on her desk and saw a manila envelope with her name on it. She almost tossed it aside for her secretary to deal with, but something about it drew her attention.

She picked it up. It was addressed to her by name only—no stamps, no mailing address, no return address. She first thought it was a condolence card, but dismissed the idea—guests weren’t allowed upstairs and there was a table in the hall for cards and flowers.

Curious, and a bit suspicious, she opened the envelope and slid out the contents.

There was a photo and a letter.

Her stomach turned. The photo was of Harper, half-naked in a motel room. He appeared to be sleeping. But she knew he was dead.

The letter was short and to the point.

Adeline ~

I told you two months ago that if you changed allegiances, you would regret it. I want what you owe me. You have forty-eight hours, or you’re next.

I know you won’t say anything to the police or FBI, because I have enough evidence to bury you. Not only evidence of our arrangement, but proof that you had your husband killed.

~ Tobias

Adeline was shaking so hard that she dropped the letter. The words blurred, and her eyes were drawn again to the photo. There was no proof that she had had Harper killed because she hadn’t had him killed! What had Tobias done?

This was not happening. It could
not
be happening. She hadn’t heard a word from Tobias after she broke off what had once been a mutually beneficial financial arrangement. He’d been completely destroyed when the DEA shut down his gun-and-drug-smuggling operation. His inside cop had been arrested. Certainly that person would spill the beans eventually, and Adeline had had to cut all ties so she wouldn’t be caught up in the fallout. It had been a business decision, and she and Tobias were business people. She thought he’d understood that, his temper tantrum two months ago notwithstanding.

She hadn’t taken his threat seriously because he had no more power.

He’d had Harper killed?
That’s
what his threat meant?

Adeline paced, her heart racing. This could
not
be happening to her. Not now.

She hated being scared. Why was she scared of that man? He had
nothing
. He’d barely gotten out of Trejo’s compound alive, according to her sources. How could he think that anyone would believe she had something to do with Harper’s death?

He couldn’t possibly frame her for Harper’s murder! He couldn’t create evidence out of thin air.

Yet … maybe it was possible. Two months ago he’d had great power. What if he still had someone inside the police force? Someone to plant evidence? Someone to implicate her?

Dammit! What was she going to do? She couldn’t just sit here and take it. And giving him money? She’d had to spend a small fortune to protect herself when Tobias had lost the gun shipment. She’d had to placate people, make sure they understood that it was Tobias, and not her, who had screwed up. It was the cost of doing business, she’d told him, and she stood by it.

She had to fix this. And the only way to fix it was to take out Tobias himself.

Except … she had no idea where he was. She didn’t know what he looked like, or if Tobias was his real name. They worked through an intermediary. She’d talked to him on secure phones, but she’d never met with him in person. He was particular about that—she didn’t know why. Their arrangement had been working beautifully for years until he’d screwed up.

That was on
him
, not
her.

If she couldn’t take out Tobias, she’d do the next best thing—take out his entire operation. And she knew exactly who to call to have it done. She’d use the rest of Tobias’s money to pay for it.

Fitting.

If Tobias thought that she was so weak that she’d cave because he killed her husband, he would learn that he’d screwed with the wrong woman.

She pulled a secure cell phone out of her desk and dialed the private number of Javier Marquez, whom she’d started doing business with exclusively after Tobias nearly got caught by the authorities.

“It’s Sunday,” Marquez said.

“Tobias had my husband killed and threatened me.”

“Why is this my problem?”

“He threatened our new arrangement.”

“Tobias knows better than to come after my operation, especially when he’s been cut off at the knees. You worry too much, Adeline.”

“He’s rebuilding.”

“Hmm.”

“I can tell you who and where. It’s Jamie Sanchez’s old operation. They moved safe houses. I know where they are.”

“It will cost you. This goes beyond our agreement.”

“I understand.”

“Send Mr. Contreras to me with the information and payment. I will take care of it.”

CHAPTER TEN

Once Joseph had left to meet with Marquez, Adeline paced. She nibbled at the food Harper’s grieving friends had brought, but she wasn’t hungry. She was too nervous. She needed Joseph to return and tell her it was taken care of, that Javier would live up to his agreement and Tobias would no longer be a problem.

She was still stunned that he’d killed Harper. Tobias had surrounded himself with dangerous people, but because he was so elusive and secretive, he’d never threatened anyone directly. He’d lost nearly half the gun shipment two months ago when—according to Tobias—a mercenary seized several of the trucks while they were on their way to the buyer. That had been a major blow to the entire organization. Adeline had had to scramble to replace the money Tobias had used to obtain the guns, because the people who were expecting them wouldn’t take the screw-up as an excuse.

Tobias had excuse after excuse, but in the end, Adeline had decided to cut ties with him because he was obviously reckless and weak. She’d built a solid operation without him; she certainly didn’t need him now.

He killed Harper.

She shook her head to clear her mind. Maybe it was for the best. Harper had been so withdrawn lately. She’d worried for a while that he was suspicious about some of her land transactions—he’d asked questions about the land she’d sold to cover Tobias’s screw-up. So what if she’d sold it for more than market value? That was how the game was played—a lobbyist wanted something from her, she needed money to save her ass. It wasn’t like she was compromising her principles—she would have voted for the legislation anyway—so what harm was it that she earned a little extra money on the side?

She’d made up a lie about natural resources on the property and the buyer was betting on future earnings, blah blah. At the time, Harper seemed to accept her explanation and didn’t ask about it again, so she put it aside. But what if he’d started digging around? She hadn’t wanted him dead, but if anyone knew about her questionable practices, they might think that was a motive.

Shouldn’t Joseph be back by now?

Adeline glanced at the clock and saw that only fifteen minutes had passed. She was far too antsy, she needed to calm down. A glass of wine would help.

She went down a curving staircase into the large, finished basement. Half of the basement had been converted into a temperature-controlled wine room with all the bells and whistles. Harper was generally frugal—too frugal at times—and she never understood why he spent so much time with his wines when he never had more than a single glass from any bottle. Such a waste. He always had prided himself on having the perfect bottle with a meal, but never allowed himself to drink to excess.

Adeline had learned a lot about wine from Harper, but she didn’t know what the big deal was. She liked her alcohol straight up, preferring tequila to all else. She knew which wines Harper liked the best, and which bottles—in a special rack—he’d told her were for “special occasions.” Well, he was dead, and all this wine was just going to waste. She considered opening up the wine cellar for the funeral. There were at least a thousand bottles, not like they’d do Harper any good now. His friends could take one to remember him by. Or maybe she’d give them away as gifts.

She picked up a cabernet with a French name she couldn’t pronounce and took it upstairs to the library. Immediately, she heard bells that told her someone had come through the gate. They had the code, which meant it was one of two people on a Sunday afternoon—Joseph Contreras, who couldn’t be back this quickly, or Jolene.

Adeline opened the wine and poured herself a glass, waiting. She heard a car speed down the drive, then a door slam. A minute later, the front bell rang, followed by pounding. Adeline looked at the security camera. It was, indeed, Jolene.

Though Adeline hadn’t changed the gate code, she had changed the locks last year and kept “forgetting” to give Harper’s daughter a key. Served her right for being a stuck-up little daddy’s girl.

Adeline sipped the wine. It was pretty good, she supposed, but there were far cheaper bottles of wine that tasted the same to her.

The bell kept ringing and Adeline pressed the panic button hidden in one of the bookshelves. She was so
tired
of coddling the whiny, spoiled child. Jolene needed to grow up.

Adeline took her time walking to the front door.

“Jolene, what’s with all the pounding? You scared me.”

Jolene burst in. She wore no makeup, her face splotchy from crying. “What did you do to my father?”