Dark of the Night Page 14

  “How did you know?”

  “You were gone all night. You’re blushing like a virgin, grinning like the Cheshire cat, and your buttons are crooked.” She nodded meaningfully toward Riley’s shirt.

  Riley look down at the buttons on her blouse, her face burning hotter. “It was nothing.”

  “Right, and I’ve been asked to guest host for Regis Philbin. Riley, this is me you’re talking to. I know you.”

  Certain her shirt was suitably straight, she looked up, meeting Adelaide’s gaze. “It was a mistake to go.”

  “Jake wasn’t who you thought he’d be?” Adelaide’s dark eyes held a serious question.

  “It’s not that.” She shook her head, chewing her bottom lip. He had been so much more. “It’s just that I can’t . . . it’s wrong . . .” She fumbled for words, trying to order her rattled thoughts. “It’s just impossible. There’s Daddy, and the campaign. It was one night, Adelaide. Just one night.”

  “Tell that to your heart.”

  There was wisdom there, and Riley recognized it, but she didn’t have the luxury of letting her heart hold sway. “It isn’t that simple.”

  “It’s as simple as you want to make it. Honey, we’re talking about your life. You can’t let other people’s dreams be your sole reason for existing.”

  “I’m not. It’s my dream too.” She sounded defensive and she knew it.

  “Is it?” Adelaide raised an eyebrow in question, looking fierce. Jake was right—she did resemble a gnome. An incredibly wise one at that.

  “It is,” she said firmly. “Daddy and I have worked hard for this, and I am not going to do anything to jeopardize our chances. Nothing is worth that, Adelaide. Nothing.” Some small part of her wasn’t buying any of this, but so far she was managing to keep it sequestered.

  “I’m glad to hear that, Riley.” Her father strode into the kitchen, smiling, but the smile didn’t extend to his eyes.

  There was an uncomfortable silence as father and daughter eyed each other warily. Riley continued to chew on her lip, not certain where to start. “You know.”

  “That you went to Mahoney last night? I figured as much.”

  “And you’re angry with me?” It was a stupid question. Of course he was angry. How could he not be? He’d specifically asked her to stay away from the man. And she’d slept with him. Not that she intended to share that little fact with her father.

  “I’d best be getting off.” Adelaide reached for her purse, shooting Riley a look. “I have errands to run.”

  Carter nodded absently, his attention focused on his daughter. Riley swallowed nervously. So much for reinforcements.

  “I’m not angry, Riley. I’m disappointed. I thought you’d show better judgment.” His look belied his words.

  Riley felt her stomach drop, but despite the feeling, or maybe because of it, she lifted her chin. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. Either way, you took a risk.”

  Her own anger flared. “I most certainly did not. I only wanted to explain that I hadn’t been the one to call his paper.”

  “It doesn’t matter a hill of beans who placed the call, Riley.” Her father narrowed his eyes and they stood face-to-face.

  “Of course it does. I won’t have people thinking I can’t be trusted. He could have been dismissed from his position.”

  Carter waved a hand, interrupting her. “The man was asked to stay away from you. Nothing more.”

  “Either way, it was my integrity. And I don’t like having it impugned for no good reason.”

  Her father sighed, running his hand through his hair in an uncharacteristic gesture. “And that’s the only reason you went?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, that’s the only reason.” Sort of. It certainly was the most obvious choice.

  “I see.”

  She sighed with exasperation. “You don’t see anything.”

  “Of course I do. You went off in the middle of the night, in the middle of a storm, no less, to tell a man you barely know that you were not responsible for his being rebuked for harassing you.”

  “He wasn’t harassing me.”

  “He most certainly was. You just aren’t savvy enough to recognize it.”

  Well, if talking to her had been crossing boundaries, she thought, sleeping with her would certainly not be within acceptable bounds. Any thoughts Riley’d entertained about coming clean with her father dissipated with his words. “Nothing happened.” She clenched her fists at her sides, trying to get through to him.

  “You were gone all night.” He might as well have been tapping his foot, the proverbial parent.

  “I am a grown woman, Daddy.”

  “Who is about to become the First Lady of the United States.”

  “First Daughter,” she corrected perversely.

  “Whatever.” He waved a hand through the air again. “The point is that First Daughters do not go around cavorting with journalists. Especially barracudas like Jake Mahoney.”

  “I wasn’t cavorting.”

  He grew very still, his eyes on her rumpled clothing. “You obviously spent the night.”

  She swallowed, certain there were some things she did not have to share with her father. “It was storming. It seemed safer to stay.”

  He glared at her.

  “Nothing happened.” Why was it her father’s stare could reduce her to repeating herself? And lying. “And more important, it’s over. I will not be seeing him again.” And she meant it. “I know how important this campaign is to you. And I won’t jeopardize it—I swear to you. Although, to be honest, I fail to see how my seeing Jake Mahoney is a threat to anything.”

  “He’s a reporter.”

  “Daddy, I realize that there’s danger in talking to the press. And I realize that being involved with a member of the press is taboo. But I think you and Leon have gotten a little carried away about all this.” If she talked enough, maybe she’d convince herself that it didn’t matter.

  Her father’s face relaxed, concern replacing his anger. “I didn’t mean to sound so harsh. But you’re my child, Riley, and I love you. . . .” He trailed off.

  “It’s all right, Daddy. I love you too. But you’ve got to let me find my own way.”

  “I’m trying. It’s just that I worry.” He smiled sheepishly, a lopsided attempt at compromise.

  “Well, stop worrying. Jake Mahoney isn’t part of the equation.” She said it with all the certainty she could muster, knowing that she’d just have to make it the truth.

  Somehow.

  “You won’t see him again?”

  She stopped short of out and out lying. “For all its size, Atlanta is a small town, Daddy. I can’t say that I’ll never see him. But I have no intention of initiating further contact. How’s that?”

  “It’ll have to do.” He pulled her into his arms.

  She hugged him back, the contact comforting. He’d always been there. No matter what had happened, they’d faced it together. He probably knew her better than anyone on earth, but she still couldn’t help wondering if he had any idea what was truly best for her.

  How could he possibly know, when she wasn’t certain herself?

  “Here’s the article on Larsen’s death.” Jake picked up a sheet from his printer tray and handed it to his editor.

  Tim slipped on his glasses, skimming the article. “There’s not much here.”

  “That’s because we don’t know much. Only that the fire was the result of arson. Which means that Larsen’s death wasn’t an accident.”

  “Which, considering he was an ADA, probably narrows the list of suspects to a couple hundred, give or take.”

  “Exactly. Although given what we know, there’s a distinct possibility that we can narrow that down. But not on paper. Not yet, anyway. All I’ve got is the man’s phone call.”

  “And the fact that he’s dead. Circular logic. So what do the police say?” Tim frowned, looking up from the article
.

  “They’ve upgraded the investigation to homicide, but they aren’t ruling out the idea that the fire wasn’t intended to kill the man.”

  “Which would mean manslaughter.”

  “Yeah, but that doesn’t track with what we know. If Larsen really did have something on Michaels, and if Michaels knew about it, then it would make sense that he’d have Larsen taken out of the equation.”

  “The problem with that scenario is that once Larsen was safely out of the way, it doesn’t follow that Michaels would kill himself. So we’re back where we started.”

  “I’m close, Tim, I can feel it.”

  “What happened with the girlfriend?”

  “Not much. Larsen had evidently been bragging about his ship coming in, that sort of thing. But she didn’t know where any of it was coming from.”

  “Did she give you an explanation for her sudden vacation?”

  “More or less. Basically, Larsen’s death spooked her. Made her realize how quickly it can all end. So she took the first boat out of town, so to speak.”

  “So another dead end.” Tim’s eyebrows shot up above his glasses, his expression doubtful. “You going to Michaels’s funeral?”

  “Yeah. Under the circumstances, it seems appropriate. Then later tonight I’m set to see Larsen’s files. Hopefully, there’ll be a connection to the trial Michaels allegedly tampered with. It’s worth a look.”

  “All right. For now, we’ll hold off on anything more than reporting the ATF’s findings.” Tim leaned back against Jake’s desk.

  “Sounds like a plan.” Jake glanced down at the envelope lying on the desk, debating the wisdom of sharing its contents with Tim. He decided he owed his editor at least a heads-up. “I came across some other information today. Something to do with Caroline O’Brien.”

  “I thought you were going to back off.” Tim’s look turned fierce.

  Jake held up his hands in defense. “The information just fell into my lap. And I’m not certain it means anything anyway. But I want to follow through, and to do that, I might need to talk to Riley.”

  “Jake . . .” There was a world of meaning in just the one word.

  “I’ll be careful. I promise. But you need to know that Riley wasn’t the one who made that call.”

  “It doesn’t matter, my friend. The call was made and the orders came down.”

  “I’ll be discreet, I promise. But this is something I need to do.” Hell, he just needed to see her, period, but he wasn’t about to share that with Tim.

  The editor sighed. “I suppose there isn’t anything I can say that will stop you.”

  “No. But I wanted you to know what I was up to.”

  “So you want to tell me what it was exactly that got dropped in your lap?”

  “Why don’t I wait and see if it amounts to anything first.”

  “Fine.” Tim shook his head, looking more like a tolerant parent than a managing editor. “Just don’t get too distracted. We need to find out what happened with Larsen. Anything between you and Riley O’Brien needs to remain subordinate to that.”

  Whatever the hell was going on between him and Riley, he was fairly certain it wasn’t going to be subordinate to anything, but it didn’t seem wise to share that fact with Tim. “I honestly doubt it will amount to anything. But you know me, I’ve got to follow up on a lead.”

  Tim’s expression was resigned. “Just be careful.”

  “Don’t worry. I will.” Jake smiled absently, wondering exactly how he was going to get Riley to see him. And exactly how he was going to break it to her that someone was interested in her sister’s death.

  What he needed was an ally.

  And he knew just whom to call.

  Riley sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the empty table. The book was gone. Or maybe it had never been there. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to understand what was happening to her. In the course of two days, she had abandoned her reserve for something coming close to recklessness.

  She’d slept with a man she hardly knew, and now it seemed she was losing her mind. She traced a finger along the finely grained wood of the table. The book had been there. She was certain of it.

  Sort of.

  She’d been in such a state last night. Worrying about Jake and her father. Lost in thoughts of her sister. Maybe she’d just imagined it all. No one would deny that she’d been under a great deal of stress. Her father was running for President, and she’d somehow turned into a magnet for disaster. Or maybe it was Jake who was the magnet, and she was simply attracted to the wrong man.

  God. It was all so confusing. And in the grand scheme of things, Caroline’s book was nothing. Still, it was unsettling. Maybe she should have told Jake. Maybe there was something to it after all.

  She blew out a breath in frustration. Maybe she should just take an ad out in the newspaper: Senator’s Daughter Cracks Under Pressure. Squaring her shoulders, she stuck out her chin. O’Briens were made of stronger stuff than that. Someone had probably put the book away. It was no doubt safely back in the library. Back where it belonged.

  Just like her.

  She belonged here at Rivercrest—with her father. At the end of the day, family loyalty was everything.

  And nothing else could be allowed to get in the way.

  Especially not Jake Mahoney.

  “You’re absolutely certain that it’s a good idea for us to be here?” Carter stepped out of the town car looking picture perfect. Which was exactly the way Leon wanted him.

  “Of course it’s a good idea.” Leon straightened his jacket and closed the door, nodding to the driver. “Douglas Michaels was a staunch supporter, and he was a major player in Atlanta politics.” They began to walk toward the church, Secret Service men flanking them on two sides.

  “He also committed suicide, and rumors are running rampant.”

  “I don’t see what that’s got to do with you, Carter. You’re just a fellow citizen of Atlanta coming to pay last respects.” Flashbulbs popped on all sides as they neared the entrance.

  “That’s all fine and good, unless some overexuberant reporter decides to find fault with our presence.”

  “You’re being paranoid. The man just snapped.” Leon leaned closer, keeping his voice low. “I can’t say that I’m really all that surprised, given his line of work. Imagine the horrors he’s probably been witness to over the years.”

  “Sorry I’m late.” Maudeen pushed through the crowd of reporters, falling into stride with them. “Where’s Riley?”

  “Inside, I hope,” Leon said. “She was coming directly from the Junior League.”

  “Where’ve you been?” Carter hissed out of the side of his mouth, his face a mask of sincerity, his eyes still centered on the crowd around them. “I’ve been looking for you all morning.”

  Maudeen dipped her head, swallowing nervously. “I had some errands to run.”

  “I see.” Carter sounded anything but happy, and Leon wondered if he’d misjudged the man’s attachment for the woman.

  “Carter, I went to see Julia Michaels. I thought it was something you’d want me to do.”

  He relaxed immediately, reaching for her hand. “How’s she holding up?”

  Maudeen shrugged. “As well as can be expected, I guess. They’ve been keeping her sedated.”

  “Did she mention anything about why he did this?” There was a note of disbelief in Carter’s voice. “Hell, he wasn’t much older than me. And certainly at the pinnacle of his career. It just doesn’t make sense.”

  “I don’t think anyone has a clue, Carter. In fact, I doubt we’ll ever know for sure.” Leon pulled open the church door. “Some people simply aren’t capable of achieving greatness without caving in to the pressure.”

  “I guess you’re right.” Carter shook his head, obviously dispelling any thought of Michaels’s demise, his expression moving back into candidate’s position. “And this is certainly one hell of a photo op.” He raised his hand in a calculat
ed wave.

  “Absolutely.” Leon laid a hand on Carter’s shoulder. “Front page material. Hell, we ought to be thanking Douglas Michaels.”

  Jake stood in the crowd of reporters watching Carter O’Brien and his entourage pass. The man actually walked like a President, if that were possible. He was flanked by his press secretary and Leon Bronowsky. They were deep in conversation, and despite their purposeful air of serenity, he would have sworn there was dissention in the ranks.

  The thought made him smile, thinking of Riley. Her absence from the little gathering could mean anything. And he was determined not to read anything into it.

  “She’s already inside.” Edna Winston appeared like a phantom at his elbow.

  “So what, you’ve taken to mind reading?” He looked down to meet her amused gaze.

  “You’re the one who called and said he needed to talk.”

  “Well, I wasn’t implying you had to materialize out of thin air.”

  Edna laughed. “I think you’re just preoccupied. I take it you had a nice evening.”

  He actually felt the stain of a blush. Damn the woman. “How did you—”

  She smiled. “Let’s just say I’m in the know.”

  “Well, that makes one of us.”

  “These things are seldom easy, my boy, but that doesn’t mean they’re not worth the effort.”

  “Do you always talk in riddles?”

  “Only when I’m attending a state funeral.”

  Jake sobered. “There are certainly a lot of dignitaries here. Michaels had a lot of friends.”

  “Honey, this isn’t about friendship. It’s not even about respect. It’s about political oneupmanship. These people are afraid not to be here.”

  “Because they have something to hide?”

  Edna linked her arm with his. “No, because appearances are everything. And even a funeral can become a political event.” She tipped her head toward another entourage making its way toward the church. “The mayor. He didn’t even like Michaels. Wanted Fred Abramson for the job.”

  “I thought it was his appointment?” Jake watched as the little man waved for the crowd. “His and the city council’s.”

  “Hardly. A decision like that comes from the well-connected, Jacob. A favor here, a job well done there. Cultivate the right people, and a low level flunky becomes police chief.”